Bank Negara Malaysia Museum and Art Gallery

Think of putting the Metropolitan Museum of Manila and the Bangko Sentral ng Pilipinas in a new glass-and-steel building. That's what Bank Negara Muzium dan Galeri Seni is, for me at least. There are six galleries, of which two were open during our visit: Art Gallery and Numismatics Gallery. There may be no gold collection to gawk at, but it's well worth a visit.The building is an artwork in itself.

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BNM feels like it's in the middle of nowhere even if it's very close to Dataran Merdeka. There are good views of the forested hills from the Art Gallery.

The current exhibition at the Art Gallery, Then and Now: 50th Anniversary of the Bank Negara Malaysia Collection, is on view until September 19. There is no catalogue, but the bookmark at reception has colored symbols showing the chronology of the artworks.

But the most interesting pieces for me were not the paintings but the collection of money from the Japanese occupation. I don't recall seeing World War II-era money before, so bills from one centavo to 1,000 pesos fascinated me despite the horrors of that time. 

The Numismatics Gallery also has a display of money from all over the world (woefully missing the Philippine Peso) and a display of coins, which has the most number of projectors I've seen used for a single museum display (at least 20).

There is also a reasonably priced cafe at the ground floor with a wide selection of food and drinks. The museum shop is nowhere as good as the Islamic Art Museum, though. 

It's next to impossible to commute here but drop by on a weekend for a pleasantly peaceful hour or two in the heart of the city.

Bank Negara Malaysia Museum and Art Gallery, Sasana Kijang

2 Jln Dato Onn, 50480 Kuala Lumpur

Open daily 10am-6pm

Admission is free

Selamat Hari Merdeka, Malaysia

Last week, I was at the neighborhood vegetarian eatery, thinking about the 1Malaysia concept. The idea of Malays, Chinese and Indians uniting for the good of the country has plenty of flaws because of the way Malaysia is run. I was thinking about how superficially created the three-races-together image is, a marketing ploy for tourists to the land that bills itself "Truly Asia".

When I approached the counter to pay for my dinner, the Indian server spoke to me in Chinese. Then I thought, hey, maybe 1Malaysia isn't too far-fetched after all.

Happy Independence Day, Malaysia. You've done well in these past 50-odd years.

Salon thoughts

"Haircut," I said to the tiny girl manning the cashier.

"Shampoo?" she asked.

"Yes," I said. I sat down on the chair when another woman started dripping water on my hair using a container similar to the kind that was being used for ketchup in eateries sometime ago. It took me a while to figure out that she was going to shampoo my hair in the chair, not at the sink, which is what I was used to. She expertly worked up a lather, very careful not to let any suds fall to the floor. Shaping my hair every which way, she demonstrated her skills in the longest shampoo session I have ever had in my life. My hair smelled terrific afterwards.

The stylists were all hip, as if ready to go on a night out. They had touchscreen phones and looked too cool for a salon beside a supermarket. I thought my stylist was going to be the young gay Chinese lookalike of Ely Buendia seated irritably in one corner. But no, it was the tiny girl manning the cashier. When she stepped toward me, I had a glimpse of her tattoo-covered calves.

She said that I have the unholy triumvirate of hair woes: too thick, frizzy and naturally wavy. Either I use chemicals (which I have had enough of) or I blow dry every day (which I do, but always in a hurry and most likely in the wrong way). She knew my hair better than I did in the three decades I have been on this earth.

Her cropped black jacket, though it looked plastic and not leather, made her look cool. Her short hair was perfectly coloured into an oddly natural-looking light brown. Her folded-up cut-offs, fanny pack and shiny scissors actually made her look like a manga character with a superhero alterego. I imagined myself writing about her exploits. Snip! Snip! Snip! Without a strand out of place.

There was no iced tea, no massage, no brush to dust off the stray hair that had entered my shirt. The stylist walked to the counter. She really was the cashier. The price was somewhere around what I expected, but it was still more than four times what I would pay for back home. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to tip so I lingered for a few seconds longer. She gave me her card. Now I have a heroine. Her name is Litz.

Ramadan 2012

My first Ramadan in a Muslim country was insightful. The Muslims would fast for sun-up until sundown, then break the fast with nightly feasts. For some, this meant adjusted working hours that allowed them to leave the office earlier to avoid the traffic jam. For me, it was about sensitivity towards those who were fasting (don't eat in front of them or be more discreet about drinking). Although I prefer the Catholic form of fasting that at least allowed crackers and water (eating a large meal at night doesn't sound that healthy), fasting is a habit that is good for the spirit.

Like Christmas, Raya means flashing lights and decor like ketupat (think puso from Cebu, rice wrapped in woven palm leaves) and greetings of "Selamat Hari Raya Aidilfitri".

There are Raya commercials, Raya songs, Raya deals in stores, and cultural presentations like these at Suria KLCC for the whole month.

One thing that struck me is the fondness for the kampung, the humble village. All the LRT stations had simple dining spreads at the entrances. Would you think about displaying a rusty roof with a rubber tire in the middle of the mall? It's quite nostalgic.

I enjoyed going to two pasar ramadhans, markets that would sell special food from the afternoons till early evenings for people to take home and eat with their families. There's always more food than you can finish!

It was also nice to dress up in traditional Malay attire in the office without anybody scratching their heads. Wouldn't it be nice to wear Filipiniana in the office once a year?

Raya is also the time when many people take extended holidays. The only thing I missed is the open house where people invite you to break the fast with them at home. Hope I'll catch that next year.

Even though Ramadan is over, the mood isn't quite back to work yet--there's another long weekend coming up for Independence Day. Time to paint!

Makan 2

I didn't eat or drink most of these, but I wanted to share them with you anyway.

My tablemates' food, L'Elephant, Luang Prabang, Laos:

Beer and breakfast at midnight, Paradiso Lounge, Publika, Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia:

Finally, what I actually ate. Golden Soft-shell Crab Pasta, Plan B, 1Utama, Petaling Jaya, Malaysia:

Claypot Chicken Rice from roadside stall, Jln Tun Sambanthan 4, Brickfields, Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia:

Conveyor belt sushi, Sushi King, Berjaya Times Square, Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia:

In which I discover that dory does not a good cod substitute make. Fish & Chips, Manhattan Fish Market, Ampang Park Shopping Centre, Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia:

National Textile Museum + KL City Gallery

Intrigued by its facade, I visited the National Textile Museum (Muzium Tekstil Negara) near Merdeka Square (Dataran Merdeka) hoping to have a better appreciation of Malaysian textiles. I came out of it wanting more. Maybe I'm asking for too much from a free museum with limited space, but there's something off when your favourite gallery in the textile museum is the one with the accessories.

The entrance hall made of glass is away from the road.

Nyonya kebaya

Baju

An intriguing buckle with numbers

The most unusual thing I saw in the museum. Can you guess what it is for?

Various types of traditional Malay clothing

Right across the road from the museum is the KL City Gallery. This thinly disguised ARCH souvenir store is aimed at tourists (think 10% KL history--which is short enough as it is, 90% gift shop). Don't get me wrong--I find ARCH wood veneer products beautiful (though quite expensive even though they are handmade).

A craftsman at work

A collection of framed ARCH souvenirs

Gift shop ceiling

Lucky Lindy

After two months of lindy hop, we're now moving to charleston. But before that, we had a little graduation party. The girls came in their dresses and all looked good. There weren't enough leads, so they had to be 'recycled' for the Mess Around. A good night.

The routine, part 2

The view from my balcony: the old palace, the monorail, the river and the temple

 
Since moving to Brickfields in mid-June, my morning routine has changed a bit. I can wake up half an hour later, which is a significant improvement for me. The neighborhood is Kuala Lumpur's Little India, but there are Malaysian Chinese residents as well.

It is still dark outside when I wake up at 620, but it is light by the time I get out into the street an hour later. In between, the bells of the Hindu temple across the street tell me whether I should hurry up or take my time.

When I step out, I see brown dogs approaching the bare-chested holy men of the temple. A flock of pigeons is almost always waiting for their bread crumbs in front of the other Hindu temple down the road.

In front of the next condo, parents in their Indian tunics and saris wait for the orange Bas Sekolah (school bus) to pick up the children in their blue uniforms every school day and wave them goodbye with big smiles. The vegetarian restaurant around the corner is already open for business. The flower shop across it is accepting the day's deliveries.

Crossing the road, I pass by a row of homes. The ginger cat in front of the fourth house greets me with a meow every time. The sidewalk has bags of uncollected garbage, so I hold my breath every few strides. There's the rice dealer, the coconut dealer, the eateries, and the budget hotel before I get to the 7-11 at the corner. If I pass by in the afternoon, I sometimes hear the sound of the trumpet and basketball being played at back of the YMCA.

On the next street, a crowd is always waiting for the bus to arrive. I wait for the green pedestrian light before crossing the temporary covered walkways to the underbelly of KL Sentral, where I take the coach to LCCT.

My area can be quite dodgy late at night, a den of snatch thieves and prostitutes. Parts of the area are from the 1960s and aren't in the best shape. I'm here only because of the location. The rough facade of the neighborhood keeps me alert and won't make me too soft for Manila. At least that's how I see it, practically speaking. I miss the fresh air and the relative peacefulness of my old place. But I'm a city girl. This is where I thrive.

A night at the stadium

I'm no sports fan but I wanted to know how it feels like to watch a game in the stadium. When Tony Fernandes offered tickets to Allstars for the Queens Park Rangers Asia Tour, I just had to grab the chance.

The match between QPR of Barclays Premier League and the Red Warriors of the Kelantan Red Warriors of Malaysia's national league at Shah Alam Stadium was just like QPR's previous friendly in Kota Kinabalu against Sabah, 5-0.

My teammates and I arrived before halftime and started moving out at the 90th minute, so we caught three of the five goals.

Lucky mascot: Spark parades with AirAsia FA's at half time

 

I thought that the turnout of fans wasn't bad considering the distance from Kelantan. It was also cool to see some in QPR's blue-and-white hoops.

 

What awed me the most is how a wall of sound develops when people react at the same time and the day-bright lighting inside the stadium.

I do hope to watch more football. It wouldn't hurt if the Azkals are playing.