Sunday. The Greenhut. A hostel in Bukit Bintang, the shopping district of Kuala Lumpur. The place is owned by a nice Pakistani family and doesn’t seem too dodgy. It is raining outside. I am tired, wet and thirsty. The room seems okay. We negotiate, get discount and pay in advance to stay for a week. The family invites us for a Ramadan feast.
Monday. I try to establish an internet connection in the common room. A guy walks in. He apologizes and tells us he has to take the furniture out. Sorry. He brings us some plastic chairs in return. I hear the manager talking on the phone about an urgent problem that needs to be fixed. She does not reveal the nature of the problem and I wonder.
Another guy walks in, switches off the fan and leaves the room immediately after. I get distracted and decide to take a break from this busy room for a minute.
While I am outside three young guys are looking through the stuff I left in the common room. As they get busted they leave immediately, without apologizing.
Tuesday. 11 AM. A staff member knocks at our door and tells us to leave our room, there is an “appointment” with a cleaning company. The whole event will take about an hour. It is a standard procedure that takes place every 14 days. I ask the reception desk about the nature of this appointment and the staff assures me there is nothing to worry about. They give me their friendliest smile. We can leave our luggage and we won’t be poisoned afterwards. Guaranteed. I guess there is not really a choice, take my valuables and go for breakfast.
A couple of hours later. The room smells a bit different and the staff tells me not to spend too much time there today. It won’t be healthy. No luggage is missing. I install myself in the common room with my laptop and try to research how to apply for an Indian visa. No internet. Some offline writing then. After ten minutes the furniture from yesterday arrives back in. If we can give our staff members a hand carrying the chairs. They tell me it is okay to use the just painted furniture as long as I am careful. The paint has not dried completely. But it is okay to sit there.
Then I discover a little insect- after some research also to be identified as a bedbug. We keep the bugger in a napkin. Proof. I start wondering if this was the nature of “the appointment and problems” earlier.
Wednesday. Time for some distraction. More research about the Indian Visa application. Difficult. Not only do I need to fill in some really detailed information on an unsecured Indian government website it also seems that the Indian embassy in Malaysia holds every right to deny my application after going through the whole paid process. Especially if you are not are not a Malaysian resident . After a long exhausting process of writing letters and researching I give up. Time for Bibimbap.
Later; back in the room. A new bug. The dead animal ends up in a tissue with our other crime scene material on the nightstand.
Thursday. Another extensive day of Indian visa research. It looks like a lost case. Thailand calls me back. It looks like I have to be in Chiang Mai. Off all places. Where I just came from. I need a drink.
Evening falls in and bed calls. Three more bedbugs. I start itching. Decide to check out earlier, ask the leftovers of our money back and to check out the next day. Call it a loss and hope to close my bag before the buggers will march their way into my belongings.
Friday. 11.30 AM. Bags are packed. We walk up to the reception and show them our dead bugs. They try to offer us another room. I explain to him that bugs have little legs and that it is no solution. We offer him to leave silently and ask for our money back for the last two nights. He seems uncomfortable and agrees.
Outside with our backpacks now. Flip flops are missing. Stolen. A mall mission starts. Bata.