Ikea, Ikano Power Centre and The Curve

Ikea, Ikano and The Curve are not places to go if one does not own a car. Wuan and I were there last Saturday. The cab fare from Pandan Perdana to Ikea was RM20.00. That was slightly more than what we paid for the trip to One-Utama for the Bloggers Meet in January. As long as the cabbie charged us according to the meter, we were happy to pay.

We went looking for a disabled toilet as soon as we go out from the taxi. The problem with disabled toilets at Ikea is that the male and female disabled toilets were located inside the respective normal toilets. Wuan was a little reluctant but we used the disabled toilet in the male side anyway.

Photo by Wuan.

The toilet was just large enough to fit a wheelchair in with some room for maneuver. There was even a button to call for help – the first I have seen anywhere in Malaysia. The sink was fitted at a height that was easy for people on wheelchairs to reach conveniently. Next to Mid Valley Jusco’s disabled toilet, this gets high ratings for functionality and a well thought out design, except for its location.

Photo by Wuan.

We had lunch at Manhattan Fish Market while waiting to meet up with De Book Worm. Wuan ordered Baked Fish in Garden Herbs. I had Crunchy Garden Salad. The salad was nothing to shout about. It was lettuce and tomatoes and some other vegetables with Thousand Island Dressing. The fish was served in a pan with rice. I stole a few bites. The rice was especially delicious.

Just as we finished our meal, De Book Worm arrived with hubby and daughter in tow. She had put up an entry on that meeting in her blog. As usual, I was the quieter one. Still, it was nice meeting up with someone whom I have only chatted with through Yahoo for the past few months. We parted ways at around 3:30pm and loitered around Ikano.

At around 7:00pm, we hopped over to The Curve for a light dinner and a quick look-see. We had planned to go back at 8:00pm. It was all quiet there, very unusual for a Saturday evening. When we passed Marche, there was a long queue waiting to get in. We were very tempted to eat there but decided otherwise. We did not want to be late in going back.

Photo by Wuan.

There were no taxis outside The Curve. We spotted a few parked at Ikano just across the road. Traffic was heavy but it was a good thing there was a pedestrian crossing. Cars stopped as we crossed. At Ikano, Wuan indicated to the first taxi in the queue that we wanted to go to Pandan Perdana.

“Empat puluh ringgit,” the cabbie said.

Wuan and I looked at each other in disbelief. We told him that the fare was only RM20 for the same journey that morning. He went on and on about the distance and that he had waited for a while there. We ignored him as he babbled on.

“Brapa lu mau bayar?”

We shook our heads.

“Dua puluh lima ringgit.”

We shook our heads again. We would not get into his taxi even if he went down to RM20. These are the dishonest and lazy cab drivers that are giving the industry a bad name. Wuan called a radio cab but the operator said there was no response. There were several people waiting across the road at The Curve. We thought we could hail a passing cab there too. After waiting unsuccessfully for a while, we thought about William and called him up to “rescue” us.

“Have a drink first. I’ll call you when I’m there” he said. William stays at Pandan Perdana too.

Photo by Wuan.

We went browsing at Ikea instead. It was almost closing time. I got a few packets of tea light candles. Wuan bought several other items not available elsewhere. William called while we were at the checkout counter. After paying, we tried to get out of Ikea the same way we went in that morning but the guard asked us to use another exit. That main entrance was locked and he did not have the keys to it.

Cynthia and Wuan wasted half an hour looking for an exit, she from the outside and Wuan from the inside. That was ridiculous. Obstacles that were put up to prevent the shopping trolleys from being taken out of the premises also prevented my wheelchair from going out. There were no signs to indicate where people in wheelchairs could exit after closing time. Thank God for caring friends like William and Cynthia who got us out of sticky situations like these time and again.

A Series of Unfortunate Events

“Do you want to bring along some durians for Wuan?” Peter asked.

“Are you sure they will allow that in the plane?”

He assured me that if the containers were sealed properly, the malodor would not be obvious. I happily told Wuan about it. Elaine got two rather good durians from Balik Pulau the evening before I was to leave. One was ang heh. I am not sure about the other. They smelt good and looked very tempting.

That Saturday morning before fetching me to the airport, Peter used masking tape to seal the two plastic ice cream boxes filled with the durians. The boxes were then sealed again in 2 layers of plastic bags. Both boxes were then packed together with my clothes and 4 katis of dodol. Those dodols smelt even better as they were made just a couple of days before.

When the duffel bag went through the luggage scanning machine at the airport, the durians appeared in the monitor screen. The security officer rescanned it again to see what it really was. He asked me to unzip the bag and lo and behold the pungence was apparent. He asked if I had friends who were there to see me off so that I could leave the durians with them as they were not allowed into the plane. I looked around but Peter was nowhere in sight.

Knowing that I could not possibly take the durians with me, I surrendered the two boxes to the security officer. Next the dodol was scanned again. The aroma was strong too but not as distinct as the pungency of the durians. It was allowed and fortunate too because those cost a lot more.

At the check-in counter, I specifically requested to be allowed to change chairs just before boarding and that I wanted it immediately after I leave the plane. At the boarding gate, my wheelchair was tagged to indicate that it was to be delivered to me immediately just outside the aircraft upon arrival.

My flight was delayed for thirty minutes. I had nothing much to do and whiled my time away taking photos. Boarding was at 1125am. I looked at my watch. It was only 1055am. I decided to empty my bladder just in case the flight was delayed much longer. It would be embarrassing should my diaper spring a leak while I was still in the plane. I informed the boarding counter and went looking for a toilet.

After finished catheterising, I tried to open the toilet door. The knob refused to turn. Thoughts of being trapped in the airport toilet and missing my plane crossed my mind. That would have been a pathetic but amusing story to tell later. I knocked on the door and called out for help. That was the first time in my disabled life that I had to shout for help.

The cleaner must have heard me calling. He tried to open from outside but that too proved futile. I was asked to wait while he went off to get the keys. I attempted to turn the knob several times and finally succeeded. That was a great relief. I promised myself that I will never lock a toilet door again. Never mind if I was caught with my pants down. That would have been less embarrassing than getting locked in a toilet.

The doors for a disabled person’s toilet should have been installed with a lever instead of a knob. People with poor hand dexterity like me have great difficulty in gripping a round knob and turning it. Moreover it would have been more convenient if a sliding door was installed in place of a hinged door that opens inward like the one I was trapped in. In confined spaces it is difficult to maneuver a wheelchair to open such doors.

The Airbus 330 was more spacious than the Boeing 737 that I used to take. I had specifically asked for a window seat. It was a little hassle to move from the aisle chair to the inner seat. That was worth the effort though. The view outside was breathtaking. Although the flight was delayed by thirty minutes, the plane arrived at KLIA just twelve minutes later than scheduled.

As usual, I was the first to board and the last to disembark. An aisle chair was brought in to help me out about ten minutes after the last passenger had walked off the plane. The crews were very friendly and helpful. I transferred to the chair with little effort.

Malaysia Airlines is the only airline I have used for all my solitary trips to Kuala Lumpur. I have no complaints. My journeys have always been uneventful because their staff is efficient in handling disabled passengers. They even have the mind to provide an escort for me from the plane as I disembarked right up to the ERL Station for me to catch the train to Kuala Lumpur.

However this time, my wheelchair came out from the cargo hold damaged. At first, I thought it was only the right front castor that was damaged. The escort assigned to me had great difficulty in pushing the chair forward in a straight path. The chair kept turning to the right. I reported the damage and asked the staff at the Lost and Found Office if they could loan me a wheelchair. There was no way my chair could take me any further. He said they had none and advised that I send it for repairs and send the bill to claim from Malaysia Airlines.

I asked him what I was supposed to do in the meantime as that damage had severely impaired my mobility. He said there is nothing they could do. That attitude is not acceptable. They of course do have wheelchairs in the airport but he refused to do more than to filing my report and sending me off on my way again. That was akin to asking a man with two fractured legs, caused by the negligence of Malaysia Airlines, to go seek medical attention by himself and claim the medical expenses from them afterwards.

While I was in the train, I called up my friend to get a number for the shop selling wheelchairs in Kuala Lumpur. I did not know how severe the damage was until after the ERL porter handed me to Wuan at Sentral Station. I tried to propel the chair by myself but could not. That got me worried. I called the number that my friend gave me and spoke to Mr. Lee of Lee Prosthetic & Orthotic Centre at Taman Midah. He specialises in rehabilitative devices. After listening to my plight, he advised me to see him immediately to get the problem rectified. Wuan and I had a quick lunch first at Strudels.

Mr. Lee took one look at the wheelchair and suggested that I get a new one. The damage was more severe than I had expected. It was not the right front castor that was damaged. Rather, the frame was bent. Repairing it would take weeks and then only a temporary remedy because the sturdiness of the frame was already hopelessly compromised.

I called the Lost and Found Office where my report was filed to check whether they will cover the cost of replacing my wheelchair. The person who answered the call gave me vague answers and asked me to call the Baggage Claim Unit which I had done just before calling them but the phone went unanswered for a long time.

A lightweight wheelchair like the one I was using would cost RM1000 upwards. I was worried that Malaysia Airlines would not honour the claim. After kicking up a fuss, she verbally agreed that I could replace the chair and send the bill to Malaysia Airlines.

I felt slightly assured but still not fully convinced. I had to get a replacement regardless. There was no way I could use that damaged chair anymore. Mr. Lee gave me a good discount on the one that was suitable for me. I wonder what would have happened if Wuan was not there to help me around and paid for the replacement first. Worse was if Mr. Lee’s shop was closed for the day. What would physically disabled foreign travelers do if they were caught in similar predicaments as mine?

This incident had severely dented the image of golden service that I had come to expect from Malaysia Airlines. Leaving a disabled passenger almost stranded at the airport when they were at fault was simply disgraceful. The very least they could have done was to provide a wheelchair until I could get the damaged repaired or the chair replaced.

This trip had been a stressful one. The misadventures this time around have revealed to me the many problems that a disabled person travelling alone could encounter. The doubts will definitely remain the next time I travel alone again, no thanks to MAS’ poor handling of this situation.

Toilet Tales

With a flimsy piece of tissue paper wrapped around the lever, she cautiously pushed the door. As it creaked open, a thousand thoughts ran across her mind. She wondered what she would find inside – a stench so repulsively strong that it was as if something had been decomposing inside for weeks, or one that reminded her of a garden full of blooming fragrant flowers?

No, this is not a whodunit or even a horror story. This is what Wuan and would I do whenever we are at a shopping complex or hotel. We would check out the disabled toilets there. This is not some bizarre perversion. After all, that is one of the places where we would go to discharge, forgive the pun, one of our basic bodily functions every few hours or so.

Some disabled loos are there just for show and most times they are in a sorry state – leaking faucets, dirty sinks, wet floor and cans that are not flushed. While most people can decide not to use that particular latrine, the disabled have no choice because such facilities are limited.

And then, there are establishments that take great pains to keep their johns for the disabled more than spanking clean. These are not your run-of-the-mill water closets. They are replete with floor-to-ceiling tiled walls, motion-activated faucets and flushes, and floor-spaces that are larger than my bedroom.

In that aspect, Jusco Mid Valley Megamall wins hands down with its impeccably clean disabled toilets. Notably, the Household Department at Level 2 boasts of one with a floor-space that is at least 14 square meters (150 square feet). The floor and other fixtures are clean and dry. The door slides effortlessly and the latch works. Bravos to Jusco for taking into account your disabled shoppers’ comfort and to the cleaners for a job well done. Terima kasih.