A fter living and breathing Kuala Lumpur for two years as an expat, I thought I knew all I needed to know about the city. Nearly years since Kuala Lumpur became the capital of Selangor, with a history book in hand and score of pinpoints prepared on Google Maps, I ventured on a self-guided trail through the old heart of KL: Chinatown. It was another steaming hot day in Kuala Lumpur and the 32 degree heat allowed no respite for sightseeing.
Starting somewhere I was familiar with, I pulled up near the speakeasy I struggled to find the week before and instantly spotted a glowing preview of yellow shophouses at the back of an old laneway. They looked fantastically out of place, so I veered closer to check them out. All of the windows were closed and the buildings appeared to be empty. It was mere bait for what stood beside it, a humble passageway. Above were three Chinese symbols that I had no chance decoding and they were adorned with two red lanterns.
As I crossed the bridge, the laneway opened up into a courtyard. Amongst the artwork was an earnest calligrapher writing auspicious sayings. He had a chair propped at his table for clients so he could ghostwrite their letters to send back home. Next to him sat a smiling uncle playing the erhu, a traditional Chinese two-stringed fiddle. And rather surprisingly, to his right was an attractive prostitute wrapped in a red feather boa, who was seductively waving her pink handkerchief from inside a wooden window.
Yet, much of Chinatown was once surprisingly peppered with crime, corruption and carnality. From Medan Pasar to Jalan Petaling , notorious vices were prominent in the area, such as opium dens, gambling joints, brothels and gang-related activities.
The first more PG version, is that it was named after the local mischievous kids who would run around the street and play pranks. Just one minute around the corner is another building with a colourful past. An apt year considering its usage. Whilst one part of the building was utilised as a hotel, other rooms were occupied by individual businesses including a fortune-telling enterprise and a brothel, a fact I was blissfully unaware of as I sipped my Jungle Bird cocktail just a week before.
