Originally written for Michelle Tan's The Love Culture (http://theloveculture.wordpress.com/). Thank you Mich for providing an avenue to share, and encouraging me to post up my piece in full.
As a full-time events manager and fuller-time performer, one of the constantly pressing issues is getting around to do work. For the past 7 years, I have been relying on public transport to get around the Klang Valley. This fact seems to trigger various strong responses from people, considering how the Malaysian public transport system is notorious for being inefficient and unreliable. For the past 7 years, an uncountable number of people have urged me to get myself a car. But no matter how many times I get myself into trouble for being tardy for rehearsals or appointments due to a late bus or train, no matter how persuasive friends can get in the perks of driving, I still end up making the choice of strolling, running, looking both ways, climbing, sweating, panting, slipping & falling... reaching my destination flustered, and apologetic if the occasion requires it.
Why? is what most ask me. Why do that to yourself? Why submit yourself to a lifestyle so impractical for the careers you have?
Because as perverse as it initially sounds, I find it worth the adventure.
Having spent the most recent couple of years learning a lot about myself than I ever have, I have begun practicing the art of voluntary simplicity. Back in 2004, I could get away with saying that I couldn't afford it, and by now I have indeed saved enough to invest in a set of wheels. But I have chosen not to... not because I am miserly. And the environmental benefits of not owning a car is just the tip of the iceberg.
Using a car offers a world of convenience; it allows for the most linear, straightforward journey from Point A to Point B. Urban culture takes pride in the concept of efficiency. Taking public transport is seen as a last resort... it consumes relatively generous amounts of time, compounded by unpredictable travel schedules.
For a very long time, I was very frustrated with this. But I then decided to not allow such conditions to be a 'waste of time' by reading books, writing, and letting myself get lost in thought - which, I realized, is actually quite a luxury for me these days.
Using my legs to get me around leaves me in awe of them. I've been taking morning runs to maintain my stamina and as I lather myself up in the shower, I feel the strength of my thighs and calves. It brings me joy that my legs are healthy and functional, and why not make the most of that? I will let them take me as far as they can until I age and one day can use them no more.
One of the most rewarding aspects of public transport is the sensory ambush. I have probably seen, heard, felt, smelled and tasted more of the city than the average car driver in KL. The the pathways, the back alleys, the street food, the sea of faces... they never cease to fascinate. I look up into the sky and observe how tree branches compete for sun, how streetlamps flicker, how clouds form. I sit in the bus and hear arguments, laughter, languages I have never heard before, conversations randomly struck between strangers. I watch a flurry of hands as deaf friends discuss a topic undoubtedly exciting. I listen intently to the life stories of cab drivers. I teach toddlers on the train how to give high fives to the amusement of their mothers. I hold the hands of blind people as they cross the street in Brickfields, I sense the gentleness of their palms and the gratitude in their voice. The smell of jasmine, exhaust fumes, incense, sweat, rain, sewage and keropok lekor waft through my hair, besiege my nostrils, and hurl my floating state of mind back into the unique Malaysian madness I choose to be present in. Eyes of passing strangers meet mine and imbue me with a sense of community.
Commuting does have its fair share of risks, but that goes for every mode of transportation. Dishonest cab service, pickpocketing and public sexual harassment do exist, as do road accidents, aggressive motorists, and carjacks. It's just a matter of staying alert in our mode of travel and handling ourselves in the most ideal way with the decisions we have made.
There have been moments I have found myself less than appreciative of my country's flawed public transport system, but never for too long. A couple of weeks ago, I was feeling exhausted after a long humid day of work and extensive commuting around the city. I was making my way to my last appointment of the evening in Bukit Bintang, when I happened to pass by a group of street percussionists. Their pounding rhythms compelled me to stay a couple of minutes. One of the drummers spotted me bouncing in the crowd, and pulled me into the centre of their circle. Turned out they were performing their last song. To the cheers of the spectators, I put down my bags and unleashed my inner monkey. I met my friend sticky but revitalized. He asked, "What happened to you?" I laughed, and forgave myself for ever feeling ungrateful.
General consensus is that public transport in Malaysia is impractical and a waste of time. But with a new adventure that awaits the moment I step out of my house, with the subtle whims of Kuala Lumpur I have witnessed and become a part of, and the deep breaths I must take whenever people ask me how my day was, perhaps being impractical and wasting time isn't too much of a bad thing.
