Well I had my first run in with a squat toilet.
I was visiting Merdeka Square in Kuala Lumpur when I had a sudden pressing need for a toilet. I went to a coffee shop and was faced with only squat toilets. I didn't have time to be picky so I just gave it my best shot...
I wasn't sure where to stand. I've used squat toilets in Turkey but I'm pretty sure they had a place for your feet. These ones were on a step about a foot off the floor. I got up onto the step but then my head was above the cubicle door, which didn't seem right. If there were other people using the toilets I'd have been able to look them in the eye. I tried from off the step but didn't quite have the reach. In the end I did it from on the step and it all went as it should.
But then there was no toilet paper. Just a hose. I grabbed the hose as far back as I could but I couldn't see a way that I wasn't going to spray water and poo all over my clothes. I decided I needed to google how to use a squat toilet hose, so I reached into my bag, still perched over the hole, for my phone. When I did my hand brushed against some 1 ringgot notes. Malaysian money is plastic like Australian money, but they still have some linen notes in circulation. I was lucky in that I had 2 of these with me. So I used them to wipe and left them in the bowl.
I have a horrible feeling that some poor desperate bloke is going to retrieve them...
At the moment I'm sitting near the Petronas Twin Towers. It isn't easy to get a decent photo of them as they're so big.
Tomorrow I'm off to Penang for 5 nights, then I might head inland or across to the other coast, or just go to Langkawi.
If the bloke who found it was in a money laundering ring it'd be all good!
ReplyDeleteThat'd be the second ring it'd been in today.
Delete:-D second ring. I think you need to be able to do a deep squat with your knees under your armpits and your arse down by your ankles. I can do this but most westerners don't have that mobility. You'll see the local blokes sitting like that in the street smoking a ciggie. Then just spray your ring and it'll dribble down.
DeleteOr if you're soft, start travelling with small packs of tissues.
I think you're right about the deep squat. I think that's what I did in Turkey. My knees have deteriorated in the past year though so I don't know if I could pull it off now. But yeah, I got the tissues. I do like not having to make contact with a filthy toilet seat.
DeleteSounds like thd ones in Bali...so great when you have a bung knee and cant squat!
ReplyDeleteI've dug up a story from when I was in KL from my email archives, as I wrote about it back then. I met these 3 Swedish guys, and one of them, Martin, had an interesting time in KL.
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Martin met a local guy on the street and they started chatting. The guy's sister was a nurse, and would shortly be going to Sweden to work there. So Martin, being Swedish, was invited to come visit the sister to chat to her about Sweden, as she was a bit anxious about going to a faraway place of which she had little knowledge. Martin got into the guy's car and they drove for about 20 mins, to where Martin didn't know. They get to the house in the burbs, and Martin's offered tea and biscuits or whatever, and introduced to the guy's uncle. Everything's going well, chit-chat, and Martin notices the uncle is missing 3 fingers on his right hand - all he has is his thumb and forefinger. Yes, says the uncle. I lost those playing cards, I'm a dealer. The uncle invites him up into the attic, where there's a card table and chips etc. Despite only having one finger and a thumb, the uncle is still pretty slick with the cards - shuffling, dealing etc. Dealing the cards, the uncle shows Martin how to play a version of blackjack, BUT he shows Martin how to cheat at this game. For clarity's sake, lets just say once the cards are dealt, via hand signals from the dealer's left hand and discreet card flashing, Martin would know both what the opponent's face-down card is (so he could count their total) AND what Martin's next card would be, should he choose to draw one - the object being to get 21, remember. Once Martin had the hang of it, the uncle says that a rich lady from Brunei is on her way to play some cards, and would Martin like to play with her. Well, I don't really have any money, he says, but the dealer says he can borrow off him. Besides, he'd have the upper hand since they'd be cheating. The uncle said he wanted to fleece this lady for all she was worth, as a vendetta against rich people. And he promised to split half the profits with Martin. So Martin agrees.
DeleteNext thing the lady turns up, mid 40s, gold rings on all her fingers. Martin is presented as the engineer (not engineering student) from Sweden. They play a few hands, then some more, and everything's going to plan. Slowly the stakes are rising, and Martin's starting to feel a little nervous. The stakes are above what he has, so the guy who bought him to the house offers to borrow some money off the dealer for him. OK. Again the stakes are rising. Er, I should be going, he says, so they agree to play 5 more hands. I can't remember, but I think by now the stakes are around $US100 per hand.
The last hand is where it gets interesting, if this story wasn't interesting enough. Martin successfully draws a 3rd card, for a total of 21. Yes! The lady's sitting there with 2 cards, on 20, according to the dealer's hand signals. Martin knows she hasn't got 21, because if she did it would have been revealed already. The lady's feeling confident, so from out of a briefcase she pulls out a wad of bills - $US40,000. Forty thousand US dollars. That's 20 thou for the dealer and 20 thou for Martin. "Um, I don't have that sort money on me," sweats Martin. "That's OK, you can borrow some money from the house". Martin thinks it over, and then decides not to. As soon as the dealer sees Martin had 21, he slaps his forehead - you idiot. But still what would you do? Shit, US$20k - that's enough to pay off my student loan no prob. Or to backpack for the next 5 years! It doesn't bear thinking about. The whole thing was a scam, but was it a scam to rip Martin off or the mysterious lady? Would you trust a man with 2 fingers? It was an illegal game, and bars were on the windows. I figured, still - if it came down to it and you ended up in the shit, you'd just have to do a runner. If they didn't demand your passport first.
Of course, the guy's Sweden-bound sister never appeared. Martin was happy with the outcome; he'd gotten a free meal and a great anecdote, even if he did have a sleepless night pondering all that money. I recited an entry from Lonely Planet in the Malaysia section to make him feel better: "When in KL beware of scammers and flim-flam artists. One of the more common scams involves getting travelers to visit private homes where they are lured into rigged card games. The scam-of-the-day may have changed by the time you read this, but if you use common sense and avoid deals that seem too good to be true, you should be all right."
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Holy shit, that's scary as. But he's right, he got an awesome story out of it!
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