A part of me feels like after so many years of government dictating how people are to live, work and play, that much of what might be identified as "culture" has been stamped out or shuffled to the sidelines. In its place are attempts by the Singapore Cultural Board (a name that may or may not exist, but that's how Laura and I refer to it) to "create" culture in the form of arbitrary festivals celebrating the diversity of Singapore's population. Ironically, it would seem, very few of the people these festivals are aimed at celebrating seem to actually participate and/or care in these government-sponsored events, which seem to be more than anything geared towards giving tourists a taste of what Singapore is all about (albeit in a very well-packaged, sterile form).
Just about every week there is some kind of "festival." Whether it's a food festival, a river boat festival or a shopping festival (I kid you not), there is a celebration for everything, which to me seems like a bit of over-saturation, making things that might actually be quite important and/or interesting quite commonplace. Case in point: a week before Laura and I left for Kuala Lumpur, the Indian community was celebrating Deepavali, a festival that marks the victory of good over evil, and in some interpretations, involves the commemoration of Sayabhama's (Krishna's wife) killing of the evil demon Narakasura, lord of havoc. Sounds pretty freakin' cool to me. Think of the possibilities: pyrotechnics, dragon-slaying, swords, blood. Beats going to the mall and sitting on some fat man's lap. But thanks to the SCB, a festival that has so much potential was reduced to a fourth-rate stage show and streets lined with (admittedly beautiful) lights.
The big Deepavali "show" consisted of a series of hip-hop numbers (all performed by the same artists) and a smattering of all-male Indian dance groups wearing Run-DMC jumpsuits. In between each quality act, the host of the show, speaking only in Tamil, plugged the sponsors of the event and interviewed actors appearing on TV shows on the all-Indian network (such as the kids from a show called "Generation Russia," which was apparently about a family of Tamil superheroes. I have no idea where the Russia bit comes in). The audience of said show was comprised primarily of young expat Indian men working in Singapore on temporary construction contracts who were probably more interested in seeing a little skin than a couple of kids in superhero costumes, which might explain why they seemed completely disinterested in the entire spectacle. We left after about 45 minutes feeling as if the most "cultural" part of the evening was eating Indian food at one of the nearby restaurants.
It was with this fresh in our minds that we headed for Kuala Lumpur, nearly a month after our return from our initial foray into Malaysia. The occasion: Laura had turned 30, and I figured the least I could do was send her off in style. I arranged for us to stay in a swank hotel in downtown KL, a few blocks from the architecturally-staggering Petronas Towers. This was a significant departure from our standard travel accomodations, which rarely exceed $20 a night, and are often shared with unwanted pests, such as scorpions and drunken Germans. The only thing I didn't expect was the fact that the hotel was also apart of a mall (which in hindsight should have been obvious, considering that there are more shopping malls per capita in this part of the world than anywhere else I've been, apart from Tokyo that is). However, no expense was spared in providing us with a four star experience, with everything from free breakfasts to a complimentary drink (a choice between fruit juice or coke) included. 
What Singapore seems to have attempted to squash out, KL seems to have embraced (at least for now). While Singapore's core is much more slick and well-packaged, much of KL's historic buildings and neighbourhoods are largely intact. The shophouses of KL's Chinatown and Little India had just that much more grime and chipped-away paint to lend the buildings the necessary air of historic legitimacy. There were lots of people about, from street vendors selling flowers and sugar-cane juice in crowded lanes and markets, to groups of people sitting and chatting on the ends of sidewalks, to taxis and mopeds navigating through densely-packed streets. So much of KL just felt alive. There wasn't the same preoccupation with appearance and presentation that seems to stagnate life in Singapore, but rather a sense that the city embraced its imperfections while at the same time celebrating its modernity.
An obvious testament to this is the Petronas Towers, 88 stories of steel, glass, and concrete that simply dominates the skyline. They (the towers) are an incredibly beautiful sight that can only truly be appreciated by seeing them in person (as with most architectural wonders). We spent a few hours in line to get tickets to go up the towers, a visit that was unfortunately hampered by the fact that we had to sit through an eight-minute infomercial on the glorious contributions that the Petronas Corporation has made to Malaysia and the world, and the fact that the lift only brought us to the 41st floor, roughly mid-way up Tower 2. Still, it was enough to say that we've been there, done that, and can check another landmark off the list.
What is also unique about the Petronas Towers is the incorporation of Islamic design into the building itself. The steel and glass facade is meant to replicate certain motifs in Islamic art, as well as blending history and religion with modern-day design and corporate greed and lust. This is a characteristic that is shared with many of the buildings in KL, with the subtle nuances in the designs of these buildings creating a deeper appreciation for Malaysian heritage and artistry. A stop by the comprehensive Islamic Arts Museum gave us a further appreciation for the complex simplicity (gotta love that one) of Islamic art and how diverse the interpretations of Islamic motifs are based on their origin.
We spent the last few hours of our time in KL in its bustling Chinatown district, an area that is crammed with market stalls that conceal the many shops behind them. Of course, one out of four stalls sell the same things, so if I'd been in the mood for fake leather wallets or belts, I would have been set. We were curious about what the pirate DVD industry in KL had to offer, and we were told that Chinatown was the place to go for the best in black market goods.
While in Vancouver you can't walk a city block without some sketchy guy asking if you want some pot, in KL you get the same sketchy guys asking you if you want DVDs. We followed one guy into his shop, which was concealed by the market stalls that blocked the storefront itself. These DVD shops were more of a skeleton operation than anything, as no actual product was on the premises. Rather, you browsed through catalogues or empty DVD box sets and informed the dealer which DVDs you'd like. He or she would then leave the store, disappear for about ten minutes, and then return with the goods. I never thought that buying DVDs would require such acts of subterfuge and secrecy; I felt as if we were negotiating the sale of sensitive government intelligence data.Our stay in KL was short, and due to several factors such as sore muscles, rain, and time spent lining up for the Petronas Towers skybridge visit, I didn't feel as if we saw all we could have seen. Still, the experience in KL did reinvigorate the feeling that big cities in Southeast Asia could still provide an interesting view of a country's national psyche, rather than just an excuse to go shopping.
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