I must confess that this post has nothing to do with Adrenal Insufficiency. This is a post about living in Malaysia.
The elevators in Kuala Lumpur are weird. It took me about a day here to realize that I would have many fights with these elevators. I was on the ground floor of my new home (a thirty story building) and I needed to go up to the 2nd floor in order to check in. I ran into the elevator just before the doors shut.
The elevator didn’t like the fact that I wanted to go to the 2nd floor. It decided to take me to the 17th floor with another passenger. I rode the elevator up to the 17th floor and then rode the elevator all the way back down to the 2nd floor. I explained to the front desk how I was held hostage by the elevator. It was my first night in Malaysia and I already knew the elevators and I were going to be enemies.
Living on the Thirteenth Floor
I then received my floor assignment.
Frankly, I find it awesome that I live on the 13th floor. Next time you visit a hotel in America, check and see if it has a 13th floor. It most likely will not. Malaysians don’t have the same reservations as Americans about the 13th floor. But I did learn that they do avoid another number.
Apparently “four” is too close to “death” in Chinese. Just like Americans prefer to not live on the 13th floor, Malaysians prefer to not live on the death floor.
When I ventured to one of the many malls in the area, I got another crash course in the labeling of floors. Suria KLCC theoretically has three level “ones.”
There’s the concourse floor. Then there’s the ground floor, which actually isn’t the ground floor because it is above the concourse floor. And then there’s the first floor. Which technically, the first floor is the third floor because it has both the concourse and the ground floor below it.
Floors two through four follow afterwards. Apparently, the fear of floors containing the number four only applies to living spaces.
This has confused me so many times. “Get off on the first floor.” Which first floor are you talking about? Are you talking about the ground floor, which is actually the second floor? Shall we get off of the concourse floor, which is actually the first floor? Or do you want us to go to the third floor, which is labeled as the first floor?
I quickly learned that we must factor in several extra minutes for the elevators in my place of residence in case they decide to hold me hostage again. And when all else fails, go for the stairs.