|
Back in the halcyon days before the Asian
economies went tits up I had a friend in Bangkok. A nice person, her and
her husband worked in the construction industry, a boom industry among
many at that time. Both her and her husband had a car, a mobile phone,
in those days were several hundred dollars for basic models, a pager
(what’s an SMS?), all the essentials required for an upwardly mobile
yuppie household and all on the credit. We did the maths one day. Each
month her and her husband had to fork out over 2500 USD minimum in
credit repayments. Then she told me her hobby was shopping. I did ask
her once what would happen if the Thai economy dipped and she assured me
in her MBA way that it wouldn’t happen in Thailand, as if everyone knew
the laws of economics stopped at the airport.
I
thought about her in July 1997 as the economy went into tailspin and
I’ve often wondered about her since. Usually when I’m in a mall, luckily
a rare occurrence. And at the weekend I thought about her again as I
suffered Surya KLCC on a hazy, crowded Saturday. Malls and me don’t get
on, I guess because I’m not a shopper. There, I’ve said it. I’ve lived
through the most boring Arsenal teams of the early 1980’s, seen an
English cricket teams snatch oblivion from mere parity on several
occasions. I’ve taken the brickbats and abuse that came from working in
Australia who always beat us and working with Tottenham fans who
gleefully lorded it over me but I survived all that. But telling friends
that I don’t like shopping or shopping malls…you’d think I’d sprouted
suckers on my limbs and tubes out of my forehead the way they look at
me. But shopping malls scare in a way only Michael Bolton ballads and
chipmunk techno can match though reality TV would be there if I ever
watched it.
Ostensibly I’d gone to gawk at the impressive Petronas Towers but I
emerged from the train the panic set in as I walked in to a glitzy,
glassy monument to all of man’s foibles. I was buffeted like a bottle on
the ocean as a maelstrom rushed past me eyes glazed over unaware of
their surroundings. Shops were subtly calling out to them and the hoards
were responding as they fingered frocks, caressed couches or dialed
Dada. Brand name bags were clutched under armpits, kids raced by on 2
legs or 2 wheels, people handed out leaflets advertising a hand phone on
which you could watch movies. Or was it a mini movie theatre which made
phone calls?
No
matter which direction I went in I was always against the flow. I sought
solace in that last resort of all men, the toilet but you should’ve seen
the queues. Maybe there was a sale on toilet paper in there that could
send SMS’s. I looked in vain for a sign, any sign, of an exit. Just four
letters but they would mean so much. I looked in vain.
Above
it all a wailing student was extolling the virtues of globalization, how
the world was getting smaller and other such clichés. I’d just come from
Malacca, a city built on international trade going back 700 years. A
melting pot of Sumatrans, Indians, Chinese, Arabs, Javanese, Malays long
before the West got a look in.
I saw
a sign for a bookshop and prayed I could find some sanity there but it
was on the fourth floor. I had no idea what floor I was on so I found
some escalators and went up. People were queuing to get in Chilis!?
Finally, looming large was the sign I was looking for suspended over a
million bodies darting hither and thither. Needless to say it was on the
far side of where I was and necessitated me becoming part of the throng.
Help! There was no alternative so, novice shopper that I am I took the
plunge, keeping as close to the railings in the middle that always lead
to an escape route. I inched my way through the crowds, as ever they
were going in the opposite direction as I made towards the sign that
hung like the star over the manger.
Finally, much battered and bruised, I arrived, convinced that having
fought against the tide for so long the place would be empty but was not
to be. Indeed it seemed half of KL had developed an immediate interest
in my own chosen field and they had congregated in the aisles that I had
long sought. I wanted to scream but was mindful of someone’s advise to
me when you are in enemy territory. Remain invisible. So I bite my
tongue and tried to get the hell out. Of course as I was leaving,
everyone else had now decided to switch direction so once again I was
swimming against the tide.
I rode
the escalators as low as I could go but when I saw a guy fully dressed
in an ice hockey outfit I decided I really did need to be elsewhere.
Beaten I approached a security guard and asked for the exit. As I was
leaving I got an sms from the girlfriend wanting to know when I would
bring her here…
|
