The day my black heart broke: Part II

Kuala Lumpur Travel Blog

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Follow on to the day my black heart broke part 1:



Andy comes back..My tears are falling freely, and I'm ranting on a Penang side walk, clothes all twist up. My Bikini top which has been doubling as a bra for the last few weeks, and is actually my favourite item of clothing, is in tatters after having being viciously ripped from my body..I'm going nuts.

"Fucking bastard..worried about his two dollar shirt getting coffee on it , rather than his guest..Fucker..I use shirts like that to clean my floor", I'm screaming. This is about the chinaman who acts like he wants to kill me for spoiling his cheap cotton top.

I go on...............

" Oh you want to look weren't looking when the man had me on the floor and was beating me like a dog, don't look at me now..have you got something to say", I scream to the older European man drinking nescafe and reading Nietze..."I thought you knew him", he says sheepishly.

Oh so if it was a 'domestic', then physical violence towards a woman is ok then?

"you"..I shout "in fact, every single one of you that just watched what happenned like it some fucking Sentanta sports programme should be ashamed, all of you." Everyone looks away...

I'm so angry and distraught, I wish all the onlookers of my nightmare a short life!

These, and other obsenities are running forth from my mouth like a speed train. I'm high on anger, pain, fear and shock.

Andy makes the hotel owner call the police. Something he had previously refused to do when I had asked..telling me to 'go there myself'. Is it because Andy is a man, or because he is white? I do not know, all I know is the Police better come soon ,or else.

The cops turn up. Not that you would know, some 'dress down friday' dude turns up on a Kawasaki motorbike and strolls into the hotel like he's looking for directions. There has just been a serious assault here and everyones acting so freaking casual expect me, and Andy who looks like he wants to commit a murder and offers CL the cunt out, only to be reprimanded by Mr casual cop..who starts screaming some BS about him respecting the Police. Oh please!!

I go to retrieve our belongings from the damp stinking room, only to find 4 staff members in there already, throwing my things into bags. I'm ready to explode

"out now" I hiss,

I don't even have the energy left to curse them out.

I'm so mad it hurts..where was all this staff and service when I was being battered? Now everyones decided they want to get all efficient! GET THE HELL OUT OF MY PAID FOR ROOM!

The police officer says something about going to the station to make a statement..except I don't see CL anywhere...and me...well.. I ain't moving, until I see him in that police car going to the police station first.

Do I look stupid?

I get in the car..he pays the cops a few quid and disappears, and then I have to listen to some long stories about them not being able to find my assailant.

"I'm not going anywhere until you have arrested him", I tell the officer, looking him dead in the eye. He, Andy and anyone else who still dares to have their eyes or ears in my business, know that I'm not joking. I sit on the plastic stool outside Banana hotel waiting to see the bastard marched down the steps in cuffs.

Ahhh.... I don't get it.

CL's arrest seams to be taking long...apparently he has been allowed to pack and change shirt. WTF....He's not going on a day trip, but down to the cop shop for assault.

Once he is in the car..I walk over to it, and say something like..

"your world is so fucking small you make me sick, before slamming the police car door in his face"

I don't feel any better.

Because of my obstinancy, trips to the cop shop has to be done in rounds...I will be the last to arrive.

We arrive at Penang police station, CL is sitting in the chair, counting travellers cheques talking some shit about
"he's got five grand here"

" Yeah, well there are some things you can't buy your way out of you jack ass", I mutter"

I am later to be proved wrong, but I digress.

CL and I are left in the same room, until Andy demands that he be moved, to another room. He is bought outside, where I see him smoking fags and having sunshine chit chat with casual cop and his buddie. I, on the other hand am still in tears and cannot actually believe that after only 3 hours of being in the country I'm now in the police station.

what is wrong with this picture.....EVERYTHING!!

The computer is turned to face me, and I am made to write my own statement, which all though weird is a blessing, although full of typo;s I touch type. Admin cop is a 1 finger man, and English is clearly not his first language, with all I have to say, it would have taken the rest of the night to write my statement.

Apparently we now have to go the big station and talk to the proper Police...ERRR... are they having a bubble bath, is this some kind of joke? Are these people wasting my time for fun?

So, if this is not the police station, then what the backside is it? And why have I just spent 1 hour in here in tears recounting the worst day of my travels so far, IF, I only have to decamp and go an do it again in another building.

Further more, why is my assailant not in handcuffs and sitting in a cell whilst all this goes on..CL is acting like he's is still on holiday. My holiday came to a stand still with the first crack of his fist.

We go to another station, some strange dark pre-historic building, where all the officers are in plain clothes, with their cheap polyester police issue outfits hanging on the back of doors. There's smoking everywhere, men walking round in lunghi's with tooth brushes in their hands, music, laughter..

Is this a fucking guest house or a police station?

By now I have calmed down, and my brain has gone into overdrive. Andy is sitting beside me, holding my hand, looking at the ground and I can see in his eyes that he is distraught.."if I'd only come back five minutes earlier", he keeps saying.

But like Inspector Anand pointed might have been a very different situation, and whilst I would have loved to see Andy's fist,foot and forehead all connect with savage violence against some part of CL's body, I would not have wanted him here charged with anything, or even worse someones death..all it takes in 1 punch in the wrong part of the temple and it's game over..I've seen it happen before. R.I.P Tyrone.xx

So..I'm made to go though what happened again, and each time I speak, a pain shoots through me. I can't even explain it. To look at me, it seams strange that I have no real visible marks after my ordeal with this big bastard, but I call this an act of God. Luckily the way my head was turned, meant he had been punching my body rather than my face. Little american man later tells Andy, "that I was like an animal and gave CL a run for his money".

I later tell Andy that I'm going to learn Krav Maga,(Israeli self defence method, one of the most deadly in the world), as the next person who dares to put their hands on me, will not get a 'run for his money', but either a coffin or cremation - their families choice.

So after taking yet another statement, the inspectors lays it out for me. The KL Justice system is the same as the UK, apparently. Long and drawn out, and will require me to return to the country for court dates, blah blah blah, and unless my witnesses are prepared to do the same, it will just be my word against his. Whilst I have two witnesses who are prepared to say what they saw, no one wants the ball ache of being involved in some transatlantic court case, and in a rational moment I understand their reluctance.

So what now, I ask?

He tells me "Well you can press charges, this is fine with us we do this every day", but it will mean staying in Penang until it has been registered with the courts, which will take at least 10 days, and then there is no saying how long it could take to come to court or whether it would even be resolved on the first courtdate. Which in effect would mean that Andy and I would fly all the way to Malaysia at our expensive for nothing.

Maybe their is another way we can resolve this the inspector suggests.

It's then the penny drops.....THIS IS ABOUT TO BECOME ABOUT MONEY.

I don't won't money...we have money, otherwise we wouldn't have been planning to spend the next month in your dirty, stinking, racist country..As I mention in previous posts..this is my blog, I'm rarely pc and write MY if you dont like it..well don't read


It turns out CL has a 3 month visa, and had been planning on hanging around anyway, unlike us, who have 30 days, with no plans of extending. It turns out CL is a frequent visitor, and as I later find out through word of mouth, has had international problems with the law before...namely Thailand where you can notoriously buy your way out of most situations, if you have enough baht, pound, dollar or Euro.

Without uttering the actual words, inspector anand asks how how much we would be prepared to settle the matter for.

I'm livid..ah wa di mean this mug is going to get away with cashing a few travellers cheques and be allowed to go back to taking what ever substances that had his eyes rolling in his head, and looking for a lady boy wife, whilst I want out of dodgey Malaysia NOW.

I want £2k, fuck it...I'm not shy..

That's how much it would cost at the very least, if we decided to peruse the case through the courts and have to fly back and forth. And in all likelihood, what I would be given from the courts by way of compo,' wouldnt even by you a half decent Gucci bag.

"Will he spend the night in the cells" I ask.."Maybe" inspector anand says.."if my superior agrees". It's then that I realise it's money or nothing.

Inspector, becomes the financial advisor going back and forth between rooms,negotiating. CL offers £2OO

Not on your life, I think...I'll find the money to go to court. I want that bastard up in front of a judge..I'll find the money. I want justice, not the cost of a night in a half decent hotel.

Apparently their is no way he's is going to agree to 2k, and would rather takes his chances with the courts. YEP CL is old skool, a pro at dealing with cops that can be bought off, and starts playing financial hard ball. If they would have put him in the room with me, I would have strangled him with my bare handS. The little peice of shit that he is.

'No way', I say. Andy and I ask to speak in private, we have to get realistic. How much of our lives, time and trip of a life time, do we want to give over to this arsehole.

"I want a minimum of £500, enough for us to get two flights out of here, and an apology" I tell the inspector. My heart breaks yet again, all that I stand for is about to be obliterated and purchased for the flight of an Air Asia flight ticket. God save me.

£400 is his final price inspector informs us. Somehow, CL has the upper hand in the Police station where he is being accused (with witnesses) of assault..I really don't understand how this has happenned. This is most definetly NOT how it is done in the UK.

Suddenly all the fight departs from me. I have a headache, aching bones, and would like to take my first shower and teeth clean in over 24 hours, I just want to leave.

Ok...£400 and I want an apology. As inspector leaves the room to inform him that we have agreed, I stick my head around the door.

"Tell him I want that in Pounds...not Ringett...were not staying". Inspector Anand looks at me, and I think I see a smirk in his eyes.

Already I wonder how much he, casual cop, and everyone else will be getting to spend on beer,gambling and cheap hookers tonight. I'm pretty sure it will be more than £400.

We have to wait for CL to go to the currency exchange and change money

He come's back, and is bought into the same room as me. Andy is asked to leave to avoid any potential violence taking place, but I see him lurking by the door, listening to everyword and making sure the litle shit doesn't get too close.

CL hands over a bundle of money and a receipt. DOLLAR $547...apparently this is £400 pounds and the best that can be done. I count the money, and throw it in my bag.

His apology is so half assed, it doesn't even register.

I then set him straight on a few things. It went a bit like this.

" I've met lots of sad, lonley old men, whilst I have been travelling, but you Colin are by far the saddest.

he tries to interrupt..I cut him dead. This is not a conversation..we're not friends, I don't have to listen to a word he has to say.

"For your information, I have a job, money, in the bank, and that computer was bought and paid for, not a gift from the government. If I had the time in my life to spare, I would take this all the way, even to recieve alot less, £400 is small change to us", I inform him....he tries to interject again. I shut him down like a quarter back.

"But we have a life that we want to get on with, but you, you miserable, sad, racist, ignorant, bully, well need to get a life"

With that said, I ask the officer if I can leave. It's clear my business here is over and I just want to leave the station and Malaysia as quickly as is possible.

I'm made to go to yet another office, retrieve my original statement, and say that the matter is finished..there is to be no mention all of the money that exchanged hands...Big chief makes sure of this.

we still have no where to stay, dirt cheap dumps full of other lonley potential CL's, are out of the question.

My darling boyfriend, dismisses all my budget concerns and we check in the Yeng Keng hotel. Paradise amidst a plethora of other shit holes masquerading as guest houses. We plan to stay the night and leave the next day. In the morning I'm so sore I can barely move and need to take 600ml doses of ibubrofen every 4 hours, we can go no where, I can barely walk let alone carry my bag.

We stay another night, and they look after us properly, the way paying guests should be looked after irregardless of the cost. It's not our problem if you decide to open a slop house, rather than a decent establishment.

That night we book a bus to KL and make plans to depart Malaysia as soon as possible, there is no freaking way I'm staying here a month.

So to round my story up, we have been in KL 5 days now, and are now staying in a small cheap guest house, run by good hearted, worldly Persian and Philippine people, who don't have a heart attack or offer is singles bed when they see that I am black and my boyfriend is white. People who have looked after us and made us feel respected.

We leave tomorrow.xx

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