Golden Rain Papaya Love Loops, part 2

THIS POST SHOULD BE RIGHT AFTER PART 1, blogger bugger mixed it up!

Our first day in KL was stunning. Dragon fruit filled bellies we started at the Petrona towers and went to the Aquarium in hopes of escaping the heat at its highest point in the day and then we headed to the central market in a beautiful turquoise building with lavish un-neccessary and overpriced souvenirs. The highlight was the fish spa where tiny fish nibbled at the dead skin on our feet. I didn't expect to feel so invigorated in my whole body afterwards! It's amazing what good circulation can do for your breath and mind. Bathing in this wakefulness we stepped out into the rain and saw some very high quality portrait artists using coal and pastels and drawing from photos. They were some of the best most beautiful portraits I've seen. If I was ever to want one, that's where I'd go. As we walked sort of aimlessly an impending storm was stirring in the wind and scattering birds. Mysterious excitement filled my lungs as we walked toward some municipal buildings and the national art gallery. and ofcourse, all of a sudden, downpour. We took refuge under what looked like a very important building and I began to play with my camera and the different features. You'll see all these pics on picasa. Then as the rain cleared up we walked back towards a canal and at the end of it we spotted a pretty famous mosque. The rain and the smells coming from the sewers and the fruit stalls and my armpit sweat and Barts red scarf over my head (a gift from Brenda and Fahad) all these stupid simple things made me feel like I could stay in that moment forever, where everything was perfect for those seconds we approached the mosque and watched the silhouettes of men sleeping and praying in the open air structure which had massive openings all around it. Mesmerized I watched and I felt a part of it all. The devotion here teases its way into daily life in an almost romantic way. Like the lone woman, gazing at the mosque whisper singing along to the Koran sung through loud speakers as if only to her. I saw her beliefs carrying her up the escalator that night. And this became the climax of my curiosity into these muslim city women hidden after 9pm, the streets filled only with men, while they're wives were probably laughing and gossiping in a kitchen or balcony somewhere, masked to the stray cats and insane motor bike racing....

Amidst all these happenings I bought some fresh papaya and ate it in the rain. I cannot praise moisture more. I was vibing so much that this repeated phrase came to me and I started jamming with myself and imagining that Moe Clark (a poet in Montreal from Calgary) was with me and we had her foot pedal and we were just building on this crazy loop about a papaya.

That night we went to Chinatown and the market where they sell "GENUINE" fake copies of all sorts of stuff. We got bombarded by the traders and learned how to sway by them politely while ignoring them and scoped out some cheap thrills in order to find out how much we should be paying for them and come back the next day. Bart is the best haggler I've ever met in my life. I'm so lucky to go shopping with him. He seriously knows what he's doing. Its the salesman in him. He won't be had.

ps. You can now see my Singapore Sling album on picasaweb.google.com/myszkamyszka0