Dear Family and Friends,

I loved what I saw in Kuala Lumpur - the influence of Islam was evident everywhere – and it was goooorrrrrrgeous. Interior diamond-like domes, cut from mirrors by artisans in Iran, vivid colored mosaics, stars, star-shapes everywhere, pointed arches, and heavy stripes, and gold-covered mosque domes with spinnerets. Even the Petronas Towers were designed around an Islamic star pattern and the façade was designed to resemble Islamic motifs. So much love lingers amongst such beauty.










Continuing in my quest for beauty, it seemed to me that a to the well-regarded Islamic Museum in KL was of the highest priority. So after admiring the Towers, I slung my bag across my shoulder, pulled out my map and set out for enlightenment – or understanding – or a nice museum visit.

Astutely, as it turns out, Lonely Planet warns its readers that KL is not really a pedestrian city – which frankly I hadn't seen up to that point as there seemed plenty of well-swept brick sidewalks. And the best way to explore a city is to walk, yes? I had just mentally declared LP wrong when I discovered that, well, that KL is really not a pedestrian friendly city.

Well-armed with a map and the sighting of distant spires of the National Mosque, it should’ve been easy locate the Islamic Museum. I gamely, then determinedly, then grumpily, then stubbornly skirted freeways, discovered the lack of bridges over a river, crossed a 6 lane road, accidentally found myself in a construction site, and discovered the city’s gorgeous old train station. Incredulous and very sweaty, I found myself next to the blue-roofed National Mosque, rounded a bend and finally arrived at my intended destination. I mopped my brow (truly, mopped) as the glass doors parted for me to enter.

The museum doesn’t allow cameras and doesn’t sell pictures of itself – a pity – because the building itself is a postmodern beauty with famous turquoise domes, cobalt-tiled fountains, marble hallways and an inverted plaster patterned dome dripping a crystal chandelier. The exhibits were well-selected, well-spaced and showed a variety of artifacts from all over the world, including Islam in Southeast Asia, China, India, Iran, and the Middle East. There were Qur’ans and manuscripts, textiles, wood carving, coins, metalwork, and jewelry. And of course, the gift shop was exquisite. How much I learned is hard to gage, but I enjoyed myself tremendously.

However, once I was cooled and done with the museum, I remained in the middle of no where. I did find a cab and asked the driver to take me back to my guesthouse but he demanded the address and wouldn’t agree to turn on the meter. So I didn’t agree to ride with him. Out came my map and my determination to find a more efficient way to the Monorail. I bought two bottles of iced water from a street vendor, skirted the National Mosque, photographed what I thought was the Malaysian Parliament Building, walked a bit further and fell headlong in love with the Sultan Abdul Samad Building.

Built by the Brits for the government when the ruled Malaysia, the Sultan Abdul Samad Building is the crown jewel in the “Dataran Merdeka” (meaning Independence Square), where in 1957, the Union Jack was lowered and for the first time the Malaysian flag was raised. In fact, on August 31, 2007, a few weeks after my visit, the Prime Minister of Malaysia would stand in the Square and shout, “Merdaka!” (“Independence!”) in order to celebrate Malaysia’s 50th birthday.



But at the moment I visited, I was so struck with the Sultan Abdul Samad Building (for corn’s sake, even a building of this beauty deserves a nickname!) that I ignored the gathering black thunderclouds and paced the square attempting to take the perfect picture of the place. In fact, rain turned from drizzle to downpour and lightening cracked while I kept snapping photos, ducking under brick arches and not minding my soaked hair. I ended enjoying every brick and arch on that building while failing to take decent picture of the place. *sigh* Oh, well.

Anyway, the thunderstorm grew in fury, which drove me to take refuge in, you guessed it, another dinner of Indian food. In fact, next stop: KL’s Little India.

Love,
Laura