The people of Malaysia have taken me by complete surprise with their warmth and hospitality. The term “Malaysian” refers to nationality, while the term “Malay” refers to one of three main ethnic groups, the other two being Chinese and Indian. With three different contrasting cultures and religions in play, Malaysia is filled with mosques, Hindu temples, and Chinese temples. I already told you about the most famous Hindu Temple in Malaysia, so now it is time to move on to a Chinese Temple. 

Thean Hou Temple is another one of those “Top Ten Spots in Kuala Lumpur” that nearly every source will tell you is deserving of a visit. I’ve always been a fan of the picturesque red lanterns decorating the grounds of Chinese temples, and so decided that Thean Hou was the last sight I really wanted to see in the big city before leaving the following morning. 

The temple wasn’t quite what I had expected. Neon signs pointed to wedding registries and other facilities, detracting from the beauty of the architecture. Two different brides where there to have their photos taken with their families, and not wanting to interrupt them, I tried to stay on the sidelines until the other tourists showed up to lead the way. A short stroll around the grounds led me to discover that the majority of the gardens were closed off at the moment for renovations. I suspected that they were preparing for Chinese New Year which was about three weeks away. If only I could have timed my visit a few weeks later… 

The tour buses showed up almost right on cue and I followed the crowds up some stairs to the main temple. The tour guides didn’t didn’t even seem to notice that they were leading their groups straight through the wedding photo shoots. 

Upstairs was a large clearing surrounding the main temple. Airy chanting was being sung through hidden speakers, along to a chorus of chimes and gentle tambourines. I found a bench to sit and watch as the Chinese worshipers lit their incense, held it up to their foreheads, and said their prayers. The peaceful atmosphere turned the clock until I really couldn’t have said how long I had been sitting there in that tranquil other world. 

As I was sitting there entranced, a Malay girl who looked about my age asked where I was from. The question caught me off guard. My recent visit to Oman had taught me that Muslim women are not the most sociable with outsiders, and my brief research on Malaysia had mentioned that Malaysians tend to be quite shy around foreigners. This girl had no issue striking up a conversation with a complete stranger though. She asked about my travel plans, and shared some contacts for the places I said I was headed to. She also asked if I was waiting for someone and I said no, just enjoying the ambiance. She was waiting for her friend who was praying, which again caught me off guard. How open-minded of a Muslim girl to accompany her non-Muslim friend to her separate place of worship. Her friend rejoined her and they said goodbye. I decided to be on my own way shortly after. 

Once I had made my way back down to the ground level and was about to see how walkable the road was, I heard my name behind me. Who in the world would be calling me by name 9,838 miles from home? I did a 180 and there was the Malay girl hurrying after me. I was in awe that she had remembered my name. I never remember names in my own language, let alone names I am unfamiliar with. She asked if I had any plans, and wanted to join them for breakfast. A Maylay girl, her Chinese friend, and the white girl they picked up at the temple breakfasting together. That sounded like a good story. 

They brought me to a grilled fish place, which was a humble tin roof over a grill station stretched along one side. Some additional dishes were laid out in the back, and the central area was full of plastic tables and chairs. 

The grill master had several different grills for each different kind of fish, and I admired his organization. They were all being prepared the same way, dunked in some dark red sauce, wrapped in a banana leaf, making the fish look like a pig-in-a-blanket, and then thrown on the grill. I was instructed to choose what kind of fish I wanted, and then the Malay girl took the lead and went to a table where a vat of rice was set up and helped herself to a plate for each of us. 

There was also a bar of sauces, and a buffet of vegetable side dishes, from which I was told to help myself. I was glad for the instruction, because even though it was basically buffet style except for the fish, it looked more like a potluck in someone’s backyard and I was lost over if I was supposed to tell one of the staff what I wanted, or if I was just meant to help myself. 

One of my favorite travel quotes comes to mind as I recount this: 

I can’t think of anything that excites a greater sense of childlike wonder than to be in a country where you are ignorant of almost everything. Suddenly you are five years old again. You can’t read anything, you have only the most rudimentary sense of how things work, you can’t even reliably cross a street without endangering your life. Your whole existence becomes a series of interesting guesses. — Bill Bryson

There I was, sharing one of the most basic human experiences with new friends – eating – and I wasn’t quite sure how even that was supposed to be accomplished. 

My confusion didn’t last for long though. Soon enough we were sitting with an entire feast laid out before us, and man oh man was that a treat of a meal. I had chosen tilapia and it just melted in my mouth. The homemade sweet chili sauce I was told was the key. My new friends explained that Malaysians are all about the sauces, and this particular sauce was only served with grilled fish. One of the girls had ordered a fish she didn’t known the English name for, and it was a little more meaty and oh so flavorful. The other had ordered a steak from what she said was a stingray, which I had never tried before. I have always avoided eating sharks and rays, as so many species are endangered. But there are also many common species, and not wanting to be rude, (plus curiosity got the better of me) I gave it a taste. I hate to admit that I liked it, but everything on the table was devoured in no time. 

The girls taught me a little about Malaysian culture, and asked about life in America. Then hearing that I had no plans, offered to drop me off at a bus stop for a hop-on-hop-off bus that drove loops around the city for tourists. I said that sounded like a great idea, and thanked them again for being so kind as to invite me to share a meal with them. 

That experience was the highlight of my visit to Kuala Lumpur. I am not much of a big city person, and had only stopped in KL to rest off the travel wearies, and to transition from the developed world into the chaos that is Southeast Asia. I went in expecting to get a few cool photos, and instead discovered what warm-hearted people the Malaysians can be. Their friendly hospitality set a new tone for my trip, one of open-heartedness and branching out of your usual social circles when it comes to meeting new people. 

Up next: I waited and waited for the hop-on-hop-off bus to arrive, but eventually gave up and took a tour of Bukit Bitang’s latest street art instead.  Photos coming soon!