As I aluded to in my other posts, we decided to change hotels.  Now, I must say, that I have no idea why...but read on anyhow--it'll be interesting!

Last Friday (the 17th) I was to pack up the girls and take a taxi to the other hotel, and then unpack.

So--we left the pool and went back to our room.  It was locked.  I just figured that they had 'erased the keys' earlier, since E had already checked out.  So we left our things at the door, and went to the foyer to use the phone.  I called several times, every 10 minutes or so, requesting someone to let us in, and they kept saying, yes, yes.

After 1/2 hr, I became fed up, marched down to the front desk (this hotel is very large--so it is quite a long ways with 2 dripping wet girls) and had them make me a new key.  When I returned to my room, my things were not there!  Mind you--I have jet lag, and I am going through all of the normal things when one is in very unfamiliar surroundings(in other words--I was very tired of being stared at, I had no idea what time it was, or where I was located at on a regular basis, and I was feeling very overwhelmed by the heat and humidity!)

So.  I believe my things to be stolen.  After going to the front desk, quite upset, and crying in my room, I finally meet with the manager of the hotel, to watch the survellance camera tapes.  As I am headed to the elevator, I notice that there are chairs there...and slowly, it dawns on my foggy, befuddled, overheated brain...I must have left the things 'by my door' on a different floor.

I would have blushed--but as I have already mentioned, I was overheated as it was! 

As if this was not enough...

The girls and I pack, and proceed to get our luggage downstairs. (lest you feel sorry for me, I called a porter...)  We, of course, have brought quite a bit of too much luggage...and I didn't remotely attempt to pack it properly in this hotel transfer...so even our 'souvenier' bags are packed.

The hotel calls a taxi...and because I've already made a fool of myself once today, I don't make any waves when a) the taxi is much too small for the girls and I AND our luggage, b) it doesn't have 'air' and c) the I.D. of the driver, and the driver don't match.  (can you already see where this is headed?)

So--midroute, some of our luggage explodes out of the haphazardly tied trunk.  The taxi driver is very fat, and more than lazy, and makes no move to help with the luggage problem--so I pick it up myself, and place it on the girls' and mine laps.  Which was a benefit, considering the seat belts weren't working either.

Anyhow.  This taxi driver begins to talk about Americans, how he doesn't like them, how they owe him money, and how he cannot get a visa to America because he is muslim.  I begin to notice that our journey to the hotel is going a way that I've not seen before...and I calmly tell the girls to start to pray, because I think the taxi is lost.  I myself am praying like a mad woman under my breath, and pausing everyonce in awhile to grin, nod, and agree with this frightening taxi driver.  Geesh.

Anyhow--we did arrive safely, obviously, as I am here to tell the story.

I'm sure for those of you that have traveled a lot, this is a minor story...

This day is not over, however.  We check in, and find the room is not ready.

So they give is a temporary room.  We go down to the pool, and find it to be quite full.  Evidently, this hotel connects to the largest mall in Penang...and has become a playground for the local children.  Looking out over the pool, I've traded my scenic view of the ocean...for a very poor part of town.  I hate myself for being so materialistic...but I cry anyways.  The pool is overly warm, and filthy, and I cringe as the girls swim in it, quite oblivious to my upset.  I listen to my mp3 player, and the first song is a song that I learned as a teenager on a mission trip to Guatemala.  I am all at once angry, sad, self rightous,and ashamed that I care more about cleanliness and the style of the hotel,  than people.  I realize now, that part of my feelings at the time were fatigue, part truth, and part the 'enemy taking me out to lunch'.  Speaking of lunch...

We go downstairs for a dismal lunch...I am barely able to contain my emotions...the girls are bouncy and over tired/hyper.  I whisper a quiet prayer...

And then an English woman sits right beside our table, reading 'Lemony Snicket'--a favorite of the girls. (but are books that I find extremely dark, and rather boring...but we all have our own tastes...)  The girls engage her in conversation, and she turns out to be a wonderful Christian woman, and the instigator of several women's groups in town.  She's married to a Malaysian   and has lived her for 20+ years.  She was such an encouragment to me.  The girls call her 'that angel woman' now.  They don't really believe that she was 'real' now...probably because of the perfect timing v.s. the perfect need for her, at that time.  She pointed us to several churches. 

We finally are able to check in to our 'real' room, and find that it faces the neighborhood. (in fact, this hotel is surrounded by this dangerous part of town on every side.) The room is quite shabby and dirty.  We play a game called '1 ringet for every rat you see ' out the window, in the street.  Yes, I tend to get cynical when emotional!  E has since told me that rats are very common here, and that he, himself saw a large one at work on Friday--bigger than a guineapig. 

E finally gets back, and we work the whole thing through.  It is decided that we will stay at the terrible hotel, and search around the weekend for another.  I suppose this experience was very good for the girls, and admittedly good for me too...now that it is past!

I am writing in past tense, as the blog site was down, and I've become 'behind' in my journal.

I'm off to the pool now--I need to update my tan. (aren't I just terrible!!??) So...

to be continued!