STORIES, STORIES

I mislike the outdoors very much, but if I were to have my way, I'd hole up in my apartment together forever with my internet and have nothing to blog about except my reactions to tumblr posts. I suffer thusly for art, youguyzzz.  The worst part about the outdoors, apart from itself as a whole, is the heat. I can't even. How do you enjoy anything in the discomfort of sweat gluing your outfit to your body and the humidity frizzing up your hair? No.  Sometimes, though, it's worth the complaining when you behold nature. This waterfall, for instance, shut me up. I was like a bratty, complainer child shushed by that angry adult my parents would warn me about ("If you don't stop right this moment, I'll have Auntie XY come over and snap you in two."). How angry it was. Like a caged animal being watched by idiot humans in a zoo.  This is the Chamang Waterfall in Bentong, Pahang, where friends and I went on an unplanned trip a few weeks ago. Part o...

I've had the good fortune (on top of my generally good fortune) of being invited this past weekend by a Malaysian family to spend a (half) day of Ramadan the way the local Muslim Malays do. It was the first time I've had a good look inside their ecosystem, and therefore it fascinated me. An 'open house,' they call it, when they invite people into their homes to break fast. My host family knew my background, courtesy of the mom's very short but apparently very impactful friendship with my mother in Jeddah when she was there for an 3mrah  visit a few months ago. An aside before I continue: I've always contemplated the difference between my mother's generation and mine when it comes to forging friendships. For me now in my 30s, getting new friends is a great bonus that comes with striking out on my own career-wise. I no longer look for friends to be my posse and support group – I already have that from my 20s, and they're all in different countries now...

I was sick all of last week. It was progressive but swift, and I knew when it hit me full force – after my initial visit to the doctor. "No fever," smiled the docile Malaysian Dr Reyhana from our company clinic, who has also seen me through an eye infection and swollen hands from a royal tantrum I once threw. She gave me medication anyway, and it didn't seem to work. Back to the clinic I went the very next day. There was no Dr Reyhana. In her place was a large, (also) seemingly docile Egyptian (I was so sure of it!) woman. That 6ar7a . "No fever, just hiti," she said. I leaned in to show my incomprehension. I could barely speak, anyway, as my teeth clattered inside my head with the cold, and my entire body was breaking out into a fast, cold sweat in that air-conditioned consultation room. "Sometimes, you think you have a fever but it's really just hiti," she explained, pointing inwards her chest with both hands. I caught her drift, b...

It's taken two full years of me living here to finally warm up to Kuala Lumpur enough to set foot outside of my comfort zone... and into my comfort zone. I know, it's complicated. I can't tell you enough how complex it is to have spent most of your formative adult years in a place like Saudi, and then uproot yourself to continue life in a less confusing environment (in this case, Malaysia). For two years, I stayed within the confines of my new home and workplace, which were both thankfully in the same 3-mile radius, presumably to acclimate and become "normal". For the most part, this meant learning to stand on my own two feet – living alone, doing my own chores, finding ways to feed myself, living on a budget, really just the basics. I couldn't afford to spend time on hobbies and my interests, I soon discovered, as all my energy was directed towards "not being in Jeddah". Who knew that took so much effort? I continue to see everything through ...