Kuala Lumpur

Kuala Lumpur

On the way to Bali, we stop at Kuala Lumpur.  Monchique, my Portugese village has become a tiny, little place, almost a point in my memory. It's so far off now and so immeasurable small, compared to this metropolis of skyscrapers, the multitude of people, the intensity of traffic, the variety of malls and shops. The hotel with a small swimming pool is the place of rest behind the high walls that even cannot keep off the noise of the streets. The malls are ponds of glitter, floors of marble, spaces of glass and high density areas of humans and consumer products. This is the garden of Eden, a paradise of seduction, full of Eves and apples, reflected a million times in the windows of wealth. Moving up and down the stairs or in the elevators of glass, I'm floating on the surf of a whispering wealth and happiness in this consumer paradise. Outside the malls, at times I see a beggar or smell the stench of the hampering sewerage system. No paradise without poverty. Fate and fortune, two sides of the medal.