I wish it were November 2011 again.

Hotel rooms full of delegates for a journalism conference in Kuala Lumpur.

Worried about nothing else other than class the following day. Or finding dinner in a city sliced by highways.

Bak kut teh to A&W.

AirAsia luggage tag tossed into the rubbish bin.

Uno cards.

The x-mini I bought playing Beyoncé’s Countdown while I’m washing away stupid sorrows in the bath tub.

The gym upstairs with a balcony overlooking those endless highways in KL.

Malay food, spicy. Teh tarik.

Riding in a Malaysian classmate’s car.

Riding in an angry Malaysian classmate’s car. (Traffic road rage?)

Bukit Bintang.

KLCC with visiting friends from Singapore.

Cultural nights.

Hotel lobby wi-fi and skype with friends and family back in Manila.

The set A or set B buffet breakfasts. By the third week I couldn’t stand it. But on the last day as we all parted ways, that restaurant on the ground floor became ground zero for all things bittersweet.

Malaysia, KL, images and scents that I miss.