Holy Ship! Look at that Building! Getting a Little Dirty in Malaysia, and Travel Advice that Almost Someone Can Find Useful.

The most recent leg of my trip has taken me through Singapore, Malaysia, and Thailand. It’s definitely different than traveling in New Zealand and Australia … and a lot dirtier. Obviously being in a country where English is not the majority’s first language is going to have its challenges, and if you factor in that these countries are developing countries, it’s bound to add quite a bit of spice. And dirt. Man is some of it diiiirty.

I flew from Cairns to Singapore and stayed there for 2 nights. Singapore was nice—it was super clean and they call it a “fine” city. You get fined for everything. Chewing gum? Fine. Eating or drinking on the subway? Fine. Littering? Fine. You literally cannot buy chewing gum anywhere in Singapore. It’s illegal. And don’t think about smuggling drugs into or out of the country either, bc that’s punishable by death, as the sings ALL over the airport will tell you. It was interesting to see a new country and they way they lived, but there wasn’t much to do in Singapore except look at the really awesome architecture.

The Marina Bay Sands Hotel, aka the Ship Building

My ride in the Singapore Flier, the world's largest observation wheel.

Chinatown!

Then I moseyed on up to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, and this would be a place that the me prior to going would tell the me post going that it would be a place I wouldn’t like. It was dirty, chaotic, the infrastructure and buildings were crumbling on one street, and then next there was a brand new shopping mall, there was litter everywhere and trash clogged the gutters, but I loved it. It was so different than what I was used to so everything seemed like an adventure. Not like wandering around the well-developed and spotless streets of Singapore. And the food, oh my god the food, was so good! And SO cheap! You could get a nice meal for 8 ringgit … which is like $2.65 USD. If you want to get to the other side of a busy 6-lane street, don’t bother waiting at the crosswalk. There usually isn’t one. Just run across, or as far as you can make it, when the coast is clear. Think the sidewalk is for pedestrians? Wrong. Motorcycles at any time will just come whizzing off the street up on to the sidewalk. There are no real noticeable traffic rules. But because it was so hectic it did feel a little unsafe at times, and I wore bug spray all the time, even to bed, just in case. And I honed some of my street-smart skills.

Jalan Alor, the food street one block from my hostel.

Some really nice buildings two blocks from my hostel.

Brand new shopping centers 3 blocks from my hostel.

An awesome view of the Petronas Towers, the world's tallest twin towers, from the KL Skytower.

Speaking of me thinking in retrospect that if someone had described to you what I just did, that I probably wouldn’t want to go there: It’s so funny to me, taking people’s travel advice. I mean, if it is purely factual like: that hostel is an hour from anything worth doing, or don’t talk to people who claim to have family from your home country bc they are trying to scam you. THAT is travel advice. You can’t take someone else’s—let alone a complete stranger’s—advice on what is “so much fun” or “unbelievable” or “absolutely a must” because if you ask the next random ass person, they will probably have a different if not completely opposite opinion. And I would even take caution when taking travel advice from people that know you well … because part of traveling is discovering things about yourself that even you don’t know (obv … or else you wouldn’t be “discovering” shit). If you must base your travel plans on someone else’s opinion, my best advice is to base it on popular opinion of an educated group of individuals.

If you want to do something, then you tell some stranger that you want to do it, and they say “oh, I did that, it sucked. I wouldn’t waste your time,” don’t listen. Because you are not that person, and even if they are right, you will never know if you take their advice. That being said, here are some good things I consider travel advice for anyone, especially a woman, traveling alone:

On Being Lost:

NEVER look like you’re lost.

If you’re not lost, but you’re wandering around without a discernible purpose or direction, people think you might be lost and you then become someone they can harass, try to scam, or sell something to you that you don’t want. The best thing to do to combat this unwanted attention is to walk like you’re in a hurry, like you know absolutely where you are going, and you have absolutely no time to talk to anyone. This is adapted from a technique I learned from Anita who was teaching me to ward off bums and petitioners in SF: the Ice Out.

But, if you don’t want to speed walk everywhere, and you don’t mind warding off millions of people saying “miss, where you want to go??” “taxi?” “you want sunglasses, come have look I make special price for you” then just get really used to this: “No, thank you. No thank you. No, thank you.”a GAJILLION times. Seriously. Gajillion.

(This advice mostly applies to areas where you wouldn’t necessarily want to be doddling … like a vacant street or empty park.)

If you are lost, breathe. Everything will be fine. If you need to freak out and break down crying bc you don’t know how you will ever make it back to your hostel, you missed your train, lost your bag, whatever—DO NOT do it in public. Find the nearest bathroom, dressing room, dark corner, and then freak the fuck out all you want. Doing it any other place but in the privacy of your own privacy makes you vulnerable and emotional. Not a good combo.

Don’t take out a map in the middle of the sidewalk and stare at it like you’re searching for the meaning of life. Find somewhere private, then search your heart out. If you can’t read a map (god rest your soul) and have to ask for directions … ask someone of the same sex as you, and someone who seems to have no interest in steering you in the wrong direction. Baristas at coffee shops, for instance, work nicely.

On feeling uncomfortable:

Always go with your gut. If you get somewhere are you think, “oh shit, I don’t think this is someplace I need to be” for christ’s sake don’t wait around to find out if you were right! That makes you the stupid chick in a horror film with the gun who dies bc she was too afraid to shoot. It might have been totally fine and you might have been overreacting, but better safe than sorry.

If someone is following you, or you think they are (and it’s okay to be a little paranoid … you’re traveling alone), don’t be afraid to turn around and look them directly in the eye as if to say “watch it asshole, if you’re up to no good, I’m going to remember your face.” If you seem alert and aware, they will be less likely to try anything.

If you don’t ward of hagglers particularly well, and don’t have the greatest sense of direction, it would be a good idea to have a lot planned out before you show up someplace. For example, if you show at a train station in SE Asia and get off the train, there are about a billion people trying to persuade and convince you to ride with them, or use their service, or take you to a specific place. If you have it all planned and pre-booked you can ask for exactly what you need.

On traveling alone:

DO IT! It’s AMAZING!

I’ll tell you more about KL (Kuala Lumpur) in the next post! Now I’m continuing my travels to Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam, Turkey, Greece, and then who knows where! Stay tuned, and any travel advice is welcome!!

♥Nikki

Outside Lands, Goodies but Crazies, and Wine in Mouthwash Cups. Or a Freakin’ Awesome Weekend.

I’m sure that all of you San Franciscans know that this past weekend was Oustide Lands. And for those of you who don’t know, I’m getting really tired of directing you to Wikipedia … so here’s an excerpt for you … wouldn’t want you to hyper-extend your hyper-linking abilities (what? I don’t know … just go with it):

Outside Lands Main Stage

The Outside Lands Music and Arts Festival is a music festival held annually in San Francisco, California at Golden Gate Park. The first edition occurred August 22–24 in 2008, and included over 60 musical acts from around the world, as well as several art installations. The festival grounds included the Polo Field which was home to the Lands End Stage, the Speedway Meadow with Twin Peaks Stage and the Panhandle Stage, and finally the Lindley Meadow and the Sutro and Presido stages.

Kathryn and I

There aren’t a ton of huge music festivals in Oklahoma, which is why this was my first one ever, and. it. was. awesome. I didn’t know a ton of the bands that were there, but I have been listening to Bassnectar and Chromeo ever since I left.

I didn’t know exactly what to expect going into the weekend, but I did know that since it is San Francisco that I should count on some crazies. And I was not disappointed. And I might have even fallen into that category one or two times …

… Like on Saturday when Kathryn and I tried to sneak a camelbak full of vodka and Redbull into the gates by putting it in my pants, wait, that didn’t work, my side, nope, my back? Yeah. Strapped up under my bra, hunchback of  fucking Notre Dame style. Then we realized that they were patting people down … and that they were watching us the whole time we were trying to shove something the size of an infant down my pants. Sooo we just had to chug as much as we could then pour our potion onto the ground.

… Then whilst watching Gogol Bordello, we almost got trampled to death by the one person stampede that was some bat-shit crazy girl dancing in front of us whose appearance oddly resembled that of a lion.

… And the guy who was blasted out of his mind, aggressively fisting the air during Bassnectar … I caught an elbow to the throat, it was pretty neat.

… Then when this exchange took place: Kathryn says to some dude, “Hey, good job!” He looks at her, perplexed. Pause. Awkwardness. A look of comprehension crosses Kathryn’s face and she says with a very apologetic look on her face, “Oh … sorrryyyyy, I thought you were in the band …” and then walks off.

… Or when Kathryn was like, “What is in my pockets?” And she pulled out her pockets and they were completely full of grass.

… Or when we ordered our 5th round of $7 wine (the glasses were literally the size of mouthwash cups you get from the god damn dentist) and I handed the guy a dollar and said, “Is this enough?” He, apparently, did not think it was funny, but we thought it was pretty hysterical. So hysterical in fact, that 2 minutes later when we were ready for another glass of wine (hey … they were really fucking tiny glasses), Kathryn said the exact same thing to a lady at a different booth. Her response was a little more lighthearted than the previous gentleman’s, but she was still not totally amused. We were.

… Oh and then there was the guy who thought it was a good idea to bring his 4-year-old kid to a god damn concert. Great parenting skills right there. I can only imagine what that little girl’s future holds.

Actually, I think it looks something like this:

Two words: Role model.

… And then it was only fitting to experience the most intense encounter with crazy at the very end of the festival. This is when we met crazy violent body odor girl with wax balls in her mouth … oh and she wasn’t wearing pants. She elbowed me out of the way so she could unfold her chair, proceed to stand in it, and flip everyone off for five minutes. I could continue to describe this scene … but I hear that a picture is worth a thousand words.

There are no words.

Balls in mouth? Check. Goggles? Check. Thong? Check.

Oh … and p.s., I was severely inebriated the entire weekend in which these stories took place … so might I suggest that if you didn’t think that these stories were at all funny to go get shit faced, and then come read my blog. I bet it would help.

♥Nikki

Check out more pics on my Flickr page or my Facebook page!

Ode to Tarahumara’s: My Favorite Mexican Food in the WWW

Whole. Wide. World. In case you were wondering.

I was just talking with my friend Taylor about how much I miss and adore Oklahoma Mexican food, and Tarahumara’s Mexican Café in particular. Adore is probably the understatement of the century.

Any time I left Norman for a long period of time, Tarahumara’s was my first stop when I got back. Case in point: Went to China, went straight from the airport to Tarahumara’s; Went to Italy, Taylor picked me up from the airport and we met everyone at Tarahumara’s; Was gone for the summer, Tarahumara’s; Haven’t been there in three days, Tarahumara’s.

It was a glorious thing. A god damn gift from above.

But now I live in California, and Californians think that queso is just … cheese. PA-LEASE! You gotta get yourself to Oklahoma for some OkieMex. That shit’s where it’s at, fa real, yo.

Anyway, this reminiscent conversation with Taylor evoked some strong emotions, and I couldn’t hold them in as hard as I tried.

So here it is:

Ode to Tarahumara’s


Oh Tarahumara’s Mexican Café, how I love you so.

I have been missing you so much, and I think it’s starting to show.

My pants fit a little looser now, and my fat intake is down,

All because my favorite Mexican food is in another town.

Why do you have to be so far away from me?

All I want are some of your chicken enchiladas—smothered in cream cheese.

Mexican food here in California just isn’t the same,

What’s that I hear? It’s your chips and queso calling my name.

Mexican food here is a tiny tortilla sprinkled with cilantro,

Give me my rice and beans and a side of sour cream sauce, pronto!

Don’t forget my margarita, you know how to make it just right.

Have another you ask? Why, I think I just might.

Served up in a nice big chilled glass.

Two or three of those will knock me on my ass.

We part ways with a lime-sherbert mint,

A fully belly, and a smile of fulfillment.

I know one day that we will meet again,

Maybe when I come back to town for a football game, that I’m sure the Sooners will win.

Keep your chin up Tarahumara’s, keep your chips crispy, and your sour cream sauce creamy,

For even though I have moved away, I have not moved on, and I still think you’re dreamy.

♥Nikki

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