Just to catch you up
Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. September 15.
This was one of those days when I still over-committed to my online college homework and didn’t really know how to handle the load. So I spent the entire day trying to achieve my Utopian perfect essays, and the evening – resting and watching Netflix.
Kuala Lumpur was smoggy. It smelled like the city itself indulged in an occasional cigarette (or a pack). The streets were a bit dirty and uneven (as if asking for another pants story). But this was the perfect place for my secret plan – to book a cheap place on a high floor (34th to be precise). I always dreamed of living in a tall building and falling asleep watching night city lights. Being cheap and beautiful, this city was asking for it.
Receptionist from hell
This building that contained my Airbnb room actually belonged to a community of 3 or 4 buildings A,B,C and maybe D (I didn’t really pay attention if there was a D). When I arrived I ended up in the lobby of a building A, which I later realized was a hotel in a traditional sense (not the airbnb that I was going to stay at). There was some guy at the reception whom I showed my reservation in hopes of understanding how in the world I find the apartment I’m staying at. The receptionist looked at my reservation (after which his smile successfully disappeared) and said something in a speed of speech I didn’t know existed. After looking at my confused face for a moment, he decided to repeat slowly – for slower brains. I realized that it was actually English and he said that this is a HOTEL and not an Airbnb. Airbnb is in the Block C and I would do them a great favor if I get out of their Block A and hopefully wipe the floor after myself. Ok.., that was not his exact words, but you get the idea. This really made me wonder why he is working in a customer service. I decided to simply smile and leave, since he did give me some useful information – I’m looking for the Block C!
A Ship From Beyond
When I finally arrived at my apartment/room I realized that it was not the most beautiful or best-equipped one, but it had floor-to-ceiling windows, and that was all I wanted. Even though the smoggy skies and frequent rain (September… huh) cut my view a bit, I could still see the tall buildings of the downtown, car-packed highways and quiet exurbs. Because of the smog, homework and not-very-pleasant area the hotel was situated at, I didn’t want to get out far, so I spent my time indulging in my old dream. I sat on the floor with my back against my bed and watched the city life from above. I studied, researched my trip, sketched, painted – did everything I wanted/needed to do – all while looking at that dreamy view. The city fading in the smog and rain looked peaceful and unmovable, instilling the same feeling in me. I felt calm and resilient. Nothing could get to me.
One night, somewhere in the middle of my 7 day stay there, half-asleep I peeked out of the window and saw a ship! A huge old 18-century ship right in the middle of the sleep district (exurb) of the city. That area of the city was almost completely dark and the only reason I recognized that it was a ship was its lights that contoured its wooden deck. It was standing there in an illusion of dark ocean’s shore (made of sleeping houses and trees), waiting for me to climb aboard. I thought it was surely a visual trick my brain is playing on me this late at night, but the ship was so gorgeous that I immediately wished it was real. That night I boarded the ship and met its great and crazy crew of adventurers and world-travelers. I brought my IT and sysadmin skills to that ship and fixed the wires and systems (yup! on 18-century ship), while it battled the angry oceans, only to find myself back in my bed the next morning. That dream was real. If felt real and it looked real. And I wished it was real.
After that night, I hoped to see the ship again and, as if not to jinx it, I didn’t take any photos and didn’t try to solve the mystery of the visual trick while looking out of the window. Acknowledging my efforts, the ship and it’s crew came back the next night, and every consequent night that I stayed in that apartment. And as I expected, all the dreams were gone after I moved – all I had left was my own clumsy sketch of the ship which I’m too embarrassed to demonstrate.
But this is not the main subject I wanted to talk about in this post. I wanted to tell you about the time the fire alarm went off on our 34th floor.
The False Alarm and the Slavic Attitude
So, I was watching Netflix in the evening after wasting spending my day on my homework. The fire alarm has been making some weak sound for a while now, but it didn’t even register in my head due to being so quiet. When I realized that it is ringing, I instantly decided to not give a damn about it. It was a subconscious decision and a stupid one. But slowly, the worry-meter in my head started to rise.
At first, there was this weird non-registered notion in my head saying something like “nothing bad could even happen to me”. For some weird reason, it made sense and I continued to do my important stuff – aka watching Netflix. But a small voice powered by the worry-meter kept saying something. No, not that I could die! And not even 9/11. It said that I might HAVE TO run out of the building if firefighters come, and in current not-properly-dressed state I’d be embarrassed to be outside for who-knows how long. Stupid reason, but it worked. I actually got up and started getting dressed. While getting dressed, I also thought that it would be annoying to loose my passport, however small the chance is. So I decided to check if it is still in my backpack, on the way stuffing other important don’t-want-to-loose stuff into my backpack. I ended up taking laptop, headphones, charger, documents, and my wallet. I didn’t care for the rest of the stuff that much. I wouldn’t cry if it was gone. This is how, without realizing it, I was ready to evacuate.
Once I left the room, the alarm came loud and clear. There was no one in the hallway at first, but as I kept walking towards the stairs, I saw someone peaking out of their room to see what’s going on – half-naked man and a girl in her lingerie. I asked if they know what’s going on, but they either didn’t understand me or didn’t want to talk to me. They did talk to each other though (in Russian, so I understood). The man said that “No one seems to be running”. It was said in a casual tone; the tone you use to show a kid that apples are not dangerous. In this case, I’m guessing, it was proving the girl that there is no fire. Because if no one is running, there is no fire. Right?
I kept walking, found the staircase and started descending. While going down all 34 floors, I kept wondering at myself and this “Nothing can harm me” attitude. Where does it come from? If this was anything like 9/11 or even a semi-serious fire, I’d be dead and had no one else blame. I came to a conclusion that the “surprise training alarms” (that’s when all of the sudden a fire alarm goes off and no one knows what to do. Later they say it was a training), that I often experienced in Ukraine, actually did the opposite of what they were supposed to do. They trained people to not give a damn about fire alarms. I do not think this is a sole reason, but I do think this contributed to my out-of-the-box reaction a lot. One of the other reasons could be our defense mechanism – denial of fatal outcome or something along those lines.
After I was done picking at my own brain and finally descended all (now hated) 34 floors I ended up guess where? Right! In the reception of the block A! And of course with the same receptionist on duty. I did not hold grudges and approached him to check if they know anything about the fire. My expectation was to hear “We are aware of the situation and working on it”, or maybe “We have no idea what’s going on, so please wait”. Instead I heard guess what? “This is a Block A. You belong to the Block B. If you want to complain, go there!”. What’s with this place and the Blocks? I don’t care about the blocks and the last thing on my mind was to complain. I was so surprised that didn’t even get angry. At first. Again, I smiled and left their “golden” Block A, while wondering why this guy is allowed to work in a customer service, or allowed to talk to people at all.
I walked around a bit, trying to find someone who knew what was going on. It was surprisingly difficult thing to do! I found one person who “guarded” elevators and he said that everything is find and someone probably just smoked where they shouldn’t have. On the way to my room I saw that Slavic couple again. Still there. Still naked. They never left their room. All they did was to leave their door wide open. Maybe if they saw a running man on fire, that would be a reason enough to go down. Using elevator.
I returned to my room, still a little shaken from this incident and decided to digest it all with a little bit of wine. I’m pretty sure I was putting out fire on my ship that night. Lacking any Slavic attitude, the crew helped me.
Chasing Phantom 
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