How We Rang in the New Year

     Our last day in Malaysia was New Years' Eve. It had been a life-changing vacation, and we weren't done yet.

     We all know how important it is to arrive at the airport several hours early for your flight, especially for an international flight from an unknown airport. Melly and I sure knew this, and we arrived at the Kuala Lumpur International Airport with two and a half hours to spare. We were relaxed and confident.

     We changed our clothes to prepare for the Korean cold, took out our contacts, and got ready. We mulled along at a leisurely pace, since we clearly had so much time to spare. 

     Then I noticed that our flight wasn't on the board.

     Hm, maybe it's down that escalator in the international terminal, I thought. Made sense. We walked toward the stairs, and handed our itinerary to the guard at the top. He furrowed his brow, and mumbled disconcertedly to a co-worker. He looked at us and, in halting English, said, "This is wrong place. This flight…different airport."

     Gasp.

     As it turns out, Kuala Lumpur has TWO airports, the Kuala Lumpur International Airport, and the LCCT, which stands for Low Cost Carrier Terminal. I suppose I was just ignorant and foolish to assume my international flight departed from the International Airport, instead of some unintelligible acronym. My printed itinerary made no mention of this detail.

     We had really wasted some time getting to this point, remember. Trying to control the panic that was rising up in my voice, I asked, "Okay, what do we do?"

     "Well," he said, "there is a bus that goes to the other terminal. You had better hurry. I do not think you will make it."

     Melly growled, "Fine, where is the bus???"

     He pointed us to the bus stop. We paced around for several agonizing minutes, waiting for it show up. Finally, it showed up at 11:50 PM. We scrambled on. The bus departed at 11:55 PM, a scant 35 minutes before our flight was set to depart. We weren't sure at the time, but the bus ride would take twenty-five minutes.

     Pulsing drums and a haunting flute pounded out an exotic car-chase tune through the bus speakers as we rolled along the empty freeway toward the LCCT. All we could do was sit and breathe.

     On the road, I watched the clock on my phone, and when the time was right, I announced to the other passengers, "5…4…3…2…1…Happy New Year."

     No one acknowledged me. I sighed. The car-chase music thumped on.

When the bus pulled up to the terminal, Melly and I had our packs on our backs, and dashed out like madmen when the doors slid open. We bounded madly through the terminal, which was showing all the telltale signs of being closed. As we passed, an employee called to us, "Where are you going?"

     "AirAsia!!!"

     "That way!!!"

     We spun round a corner and saw the counter. Our flight would leave in ten minutes. Boarding should be closed by now. The velvet ropes that make up the little line-maze were pulled to a close. I ran and jumped over them (not easy, with my giant pack on my back). Melly ran and…well, tried to jump over them. Her feet caught the ropes and down she went, giant backpack and all. The metal posts toppled like dominoes. I had no time to be chivalrous. I raced up to the counter, Melly hastily putting the posts back up behind me.

     I said as calmly as I could, "Hello we're very late we accidentally went to the International Airport please can we get to our flight????"

     The man stared at me, as if to say "…really?" He typed quickly on his computer, and then shook his head and said, "I'm sorry…you're too late."

     We slumped in defeat. What would this mean? Hundreds of dollars lost? Would we make it back to work on time? Where would we sleep tonight? Good lord we were exhausted!

     "All right," I sighed, "all right, what can we do?"

     The man typed. He didn't say anything for a moment. The knot in my stomach clenched.

     "Wait," he said, "wait!" 

     We held our breath.

     "You're very lucky," he said. My eyes widened. The man, focused as a laser, said to us, "When I hand you this ticket, you are going to have to run as fast as you can. Gate 11."

     "Yes, sir! Yes, that's fine! Thank you!!!"

     We waited like sprinters for the opening gunshot of a race. The man typed furiously. The boarding passes slid out of the printer.

     "Here you are," he said," now GO!"

     And we were off. Bounding through the halls of the empty terminal. We madly tossed our bags through the security check and picked them up without hardly missing a step, we ran down corridors and through halls, past gate after gate of empty seats, heaving breaths, sweat pouring off our faces in the hot Malaysian air.

     The line of passengers was still slowly filing through the door at gate 11. Apparently, boarding had been delayed by a few short minutes. We jogged up to the line, panting and heaving and sweating like animals. It was 12:28 AM.

     We had made it. It was a New Year's Eve we would never forget.

How I Proposed: The Great Malaysian Engagement Vacation

     Melly and I had been dating for 4 years exactly when we moved to Korea. I knew that she was everything I could ever hope to find in a woman, and that I was madly in love with her, and that if I were ever going to hop on the wedding bandwagon, it would sure be silly not to propose during our year-long adventure in Asia. But the process still intimidated the hell out of me.

     During our year's work at the hagwon, we got two weeks of vacation time: one in the summer, and one in the winter. We initially had hoped to travel to the Philippines during our winter vacation, but those plans were thwarted time and time again by various circumstances (airline website nonsense, mostly) so we had no idea what to do or where to go. That's when we saw an inexpensive ticket bound for Kuala Lumpur.

     Kuala Lumpur is one of those cities that I had always classified as so impossibly remote, distant, and exotic that I could never in a million years reach it or understand it. I didn't even know what country it was in (Malaysia, it turned out). And then suddenly I had a plane ticket booked there. Crazy.

Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, as viewed from the Menara Tower.

     I had a couple of months to figure the proposal out, and even then I only got everything together by the skin of my teeth. 

     First, and most importantly, the ring:

     I'm a REALLY lucky guy, and Melly is REALLY smart. A few months earlier, she sat me down and said, "If you ever are curious, these are the sorts of rings I would be interested in," and she showed me several pictures of beautiful rings. She had no idea I was planning on proposing, mind you, she was just smart enough to avoid letting me clumsily blunder my way through the process, and end up picking out some tacky piece of garbage. You know, just in case one day I did want to go shopping for a ring. Good job darlin'.  So I had a head start there. 

     A friend who had recently become married recommended shopping online for a ring. BUT, it turns out Korea has really steep import taxes and customs on diamonds. Like, 30% of the total cost of the thing added on. So that option was out.

     Luckily, I had ANOTHER couple of friends who had just gotten married in Korea (Melly and I actually sang at their wedding, but that's another story). The husband of this couple was a Korean fellow (still is, I imagine), and he was generous enough to help me out. 

     I told Melly that I was playing music with some buddies, but in reality I was sneaking off to Seoul's jewelry district with my aforementioned Korean friend. My friend--named Jong Eun--was absolutely VITAL to this whole process. The jewelry district in Seoul is called Jongno, and it's MASSIVE. City block upon city block packed full of small jewelry shops, stretching on and on for miles. You could spend weeks there searching for rings, and end up so overwhelmed with options that decision-making would be nigh on impossible.

     Oh, and no one speaks English.

     So I was following Jong Eun like a frightened kindergartener through alleys and around corners, past countless jewelry shops to the place where he bought his own wife's ring. Jong Eun and the shopkeepers would have long conversations about me in Korean, occasionally looking at me and chuckling. It was intense. For such an important purchase, it was really difficult to be so incapable of communication. But Jong Eun was a hero, and translated brilliantly for me. 

     I shopped around at a few shops, and just wasn't satisfied. That's when the woman behind the counter of one of the shops pulled out a black velvet box she had secreted away, and opened it for me. 

     "She says this is very high quality," Jong Eun translated for me.

     The ring inside was gorgeous. Brilliant, floral, radiant. Perfect. 

     I had it sent away to be set. It would be hopefully be ready with about two weeks to spare before the trip to Malaysia. And all the while, Melly had no clue.

     The ring arrived in time, and I hid it in a bookshelf upstairs. It's really difficult to keep a secret from someone when you live in a tiny shoebox apartment with them, and work with them, but I managed it. 

     The day finally came, and we were off to Malaysia. We arrived in Kuala Lumpur, and stayed for one night. The next day, we BARELY caught the train that would carry us for 7 hours to Butterworth, in the north. From there we rode a ferry to Georgetown on the island of Penang, from which point we took a bus to our destination, the small resort town of Batu Ferringhi. 

     We stayed at the pitiful Batu Ferringhi Inn & Cafe, whose service was so bad that I shudder even thinking about it. For example, the second day of our stay there, our room ran out of toilet paper. A fairly urgent issue, really. We asked politely for some more, and were assured that some would be brought up in a moment. None arrived. We asked again a few hours later, after having been out and about, and the same thing happened. The next morning, we asked again, and the manager rolled his eyes at us, clearly quite bothered to be interrupted by people so trivial as his hostel's only guests. The toilet paper never arrived, and we ended up buying our own from a local convenience store. Don't stay at the Batu Ferringhi Inn & Cafe.

     DESPITE all that, our time on Penang and in Batu Ferringhi was heavenly. The beaches were clean and soft, the tropical foliage was lush and lovely, the weather was clear and perfect, the food was delicious.

     I had the ring box tucked away in the bottom of a day pack, and I had no idea when exactly would be the right moment to whip it out. I decided on the second day. Thursday, December 27th, 2012. 

     Timing was the issue. I wanted dinner, followed by the beach at sunset. Perhaps Melly was a little puzzled why I was suddenly stressing a schedule so much, perhaps not. Either way, it worked out nicely.

     I took her to a delicious restaurant, where we enjoyed a Thai green chicken curry dish, and an Indian red vegetable makhani, and some drinks. Things were going well.

     Afterwards, I led her out to the beach. This was a little tricky, because the light was fading fast and we had to pass through the night market that sprung up every evening on the sidewalk. Anyone that knows Melly knows that it's not easy to rush her through a market. But I managed somehow.

     We got to the beach. The light had faded significantly, and it was getting pretty dusky. I had hoped and dreamed for a brilliant orange and yellow sky, but this was beautiful in a different way, and I figured it would do just fine.

The beach, where and when I proposed.

     I told her as we walked how grateful I was for her presence in my life. About how I felt completely safe with her, and free to be my strange, goofy self. I told her how great I felt about our relationship, and how wonderful it would be to grow old together. We were sitting on the sand, watching the sky grow dark. It was now or never. I pulled the box out of my pocket and spun onto one knee. 

     "Melly, will you marry me?"

     Her reaction was priceless. 

     "Yes!" she blurted out instantly. Then, "….What?!!! WHAT??? Yes!!!"

     I had succeeded. She had had no idea it was coming. It was wonderful.

     The next day was idyllic. We took a private bout tour to a place on Penang Island called Monkey Beach. The turquoise blue waters were the perfect temperature to play and splash around in. Monkeys were climbing and jumping around in the trees, and we had the most amazing Malaysian barbecue served to us: grilled chicken, fish, and shrimp, with watermelon, cucumber, and drinks. Amazing. I could've stayed there for days.

Monkey Beach, Penang

     We got back from Monkey Beach, and immediately embarked on a car tour of the island. We took a walk through the lush rainforest of the Spice Gardens (where I saw the biggest spider I've ever seen), we toured a Batik printing factory (and bought some awesome fabrics), we went to a tea factory, and we rode the Penang Hill train. 

Penang Hill Train (note how very...uphill it is)

Top of Penang Hill

     This train was really something. Set at about 45 degrees up the mountain said, the train car itself was built like a large staircase. It zoomed uphill and downhill in a most dizzying way. It was awesome. At the top, we enjoyed a spectacular view of the whole island, and the cities thereon. Monkeys swung through the trees, and luscious tropical flowers and plants fought for space wherever there was space to be had. On the way home, we stopped at a Hindu temple and watched a family receive a blessing from a spectacularly painted priest wearing only a loincloth. Very interesting.

     We collapsed in bed that night, exhausted from such a full day. We were both wonderfully happy.

     The next day, we made the long return journey to Kuala Lumpur. As we alighted from the monorail to walk a block to our hostel, a most spectacular tropical rainstorm suddenly struck. We ran laughing through the torrent to our lodgings. We were only outside a few minutes, but we may as well have jumped into a swimming pool.

     We hung out on the balcony, watching the rain and drinking beers. We met some other young couples staying at the hostel. One couple was from Denmark, the other from Finland. We spent hours talking about life, government, education, traveling, and such. It was wonderful to speak to people from another culture and be able to understand each other.

     The next day, we took a local train to the spectacular Batu Caves. These caves are a sacred Hindu pilgrimage site which house several small shrines. Monkeys crawl around the staircases in great numbers, and snack on bananas that visitors feed them. They crawl like Spidermen down the cliffs into the caverns.

Batu Caves

Batu Caves

     After the caves, we went to the largest open-air aviary in the world. Bizarre and beautiful birds were flying and hopping all over the place. It was incredible.

Us holdin' a bunch o' birds.

     We left the aviary and walked down the street to the Islamic Art Museum, and marveled at the gorgeous calligraphy and craftsmanship. 

     Then, it was time to fly back to Seoul. It was New Year's Eve, and our flight left at 12:30 AM that night. I'll never forget the wacky way we rang in the New Year that day, but I think that story will have to wait for another time.

     I couldn't believe it. We were engaged now.