June 30. Forest Voices.

Remember the day I shouted to the man, whose lean and clean English intimidated me so  much, because I mistakenly thought I had lost the ticket and he wouldn't let me on the bus? It happened yesterday, it happened through my conscious mind, it keeps happening as temper is hard to overcome.

Meeting and dinner with Noah and Michael. We have a good conversation and I come up with the jolly idea to call my brother Caspar, who is a forest ecologist working in Sarawak. Since Noah is documenting indigenous knowledge of the people in Sarawak, I thought it would be a great idea to hook them up. I pull in my legs and listen to the skype conversation where Noah and my brother drop insider terms and I feel proud in a strange but pleasant way.

June 29. Supporting Causes in Malaysia

I want to support something in Malaysia, my hands always start itching after a few days of idling. I don't want to dive into the psychological complexities underlying my passion to help where help is needed, and I leave that to the "Nachwelt", the judging generations after we have all perished. So where to look? We have our friends here, and they know of an event called "Green Drinks" we decide to attend. It is a meeting for professionals working in ecology and environment related organisations that takes place in a restaurant in the Petronas twin towers. We arrive early enough to chat with the organizer who is setting up a video screen to show a movie called "what rainforest" about the large-scale logging in Sarawak and how local commnities protest in vain.
We are encouraged to be "American" and approach people with a big smile and a stack of business cards. I walk around a little and shake hands with a German man who was just explaining the world cup to his Malaysian friends. I have to introduce our concept in two minutes but he seems to get it and like it. I decide to give his contacts to my brother.

Meanwhile, Yeon is talking to Noah, an American ecologist/anthropolist and the man behind "Forest Voices", a project documenting the local knowledge of the people in the rainforest. We have an interesting conversation and decide to support them.
After the green people, we meet a friend of a volunteer we know from Cambodia (follow me) who is working here with Myanmar refugees. We promise to look into it - who knows it becomes a cause too.

June 28. Glasses are stolen.

My glasses are stolen. This is the right moment. Yes, it is, yes. It is the last item that I carry from the past. How much can I give in to my tendency to dramatize the event, to clay it with fatty fingers and make it into something with some sort of celestial essence. Right. In German a philosopher criticizing another philosopher would call it "hochstilisieren". It happens after a nice football game between Argentina and Mexico, which we view on a big screen. But the mirthful nightly public viewing event quickly turns into a dark pit for thieves.

It is a long day. On our way to the mall, the "built-up" one, I pick up a pair of strong slippers that look like Kenyattas since I don't want to step into a dirty abuser's needle and die. What is a "built-up" place? We have had a lot of discussions about that starring me beating about the bush, reluctant to admit I mean Starbucks-Dubai Mall-Coffee Bean-Free wifi-Hilton lobby-shiny marble-steel 'n glass kind of built-up. I am trying other adjectives to express my wish to sit down in a clean Westernized place every now and then, like "glossy", "shiny", "polished", "Dubaiesk".

In the Mall I find three months worth of contact lenses and very friendly staff explaining Astigmatism and Myopia, oxygen level and moisture, changed my dollars, and give me free cleansing fluid. I bow. We walk through the mall and sit down for a while in a coffee place to bring the first hours of dizziness behind me.
After that, we find a small hotel and with Yeon's friend Mark. We have a nice streetside dinner together and meet some passionate Malaysians and a lovely French girl. Having introduced myself as Dutch, that is "Oranje", we inevitably go and watch the game that is on. I can't remember the opponent but the game was a bit boring and the outcome made everybody shruck despite the fact Holland made it further in the competition.

June 27. K.L.

We don't get up too early, and stretch the morning. You know what I mean, just being without pretentions.

In the afternoon, we attempt to hitchhike towards Kuala Lumpur, and our first few lifts are easy. They take us to the right gas station where we could try to get a lift.

A nice muslim man, highschool biology teacher, offers us a ride to the bus station and to purchase our bus tickets. I am overwhelmed but don't turn down such a friendly offer, feeling that giving him the opportunity to help has some intrinsic value as well, plus I would reciprocate by diverging the equivalent amount into the charity travel budget. The man, who was together with his sun, has a gentle smile and and kind, funny eyes. At the bus station, where he shows us our bus, we thank him and give him my namecard. I hope he contacts us. The busride was convenient as the bus leaves with empty seats allowing me to stretch out and doze off.
The first glance of KL is as surreal as I have expected. Big concrete structures made shiny and transparent as usual contrasting to whatever profit-generating dodgy businesses house inside them. We walk around with tired eyes and when we are about to take a taxi to take us to a safe hotel, we arrive at a big field where two public viewing screens are reiterating the games already played in the world cup. Argentina-Mexico was on at 2:30 so we decided to stay up...