Turns out Kuala is a city with two faces. I stumbled across the scary face before stumbling across the pretty face. I was given very specific instructions by the captain on how to find the nice side. Of course, I ventured off in the exact opposite direction. After two hours of walking I found myself deep in hostile territory. I blame it on my still burning missionary sense of invincibility. I finally came to my senses when finding myself in a super shady over crowded dirty nasty street market. And also when a man on a city bus pointed at me and made some gestures I can only assume were not the most cordial. My urban survival spidey senses kicked in to full gear and it was time for fight or flight. I flighted. I bobbed and weaved and stealthily maneuvered through the less than friendly mob. I emerged unscathed but seriously questioning the inner Indiana Jones. I did make it to the pretty side. There was happiness there and other white people.
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