City Stories

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

2006-12-22T23:05:00.000+08:00

How time flies! I would like to wish all my friends at every corner of the world a Merry Christmas and a very Happy New Year from Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia!

2006-12-20T21:21:00.000+08:00

Glenn Fredly-Januari

Berat bebanku
Meninggalkanmu
Separuh nafas jiwaku
Sirna...

Bukan salahmu
Apa dayaku
Mungkin benar cinta sejati
Tak berpihak
Pada kita

Reff:
Kasihku
Sampai disini kisah kita
Jangan tangisi keadaannya
Bukan karena kita berbeda

Dengarkan
Dengarkan lagu.....lagu ini
Melodi rintihan kati ini
Kisah kita berakhir di Januari
Selamat tinggal kisah sejatiku
Wow....pergilah

Cinta

2006-12-03T00:33:00.000+08:00

blogger: "jom, kita pergi tonton cinta"
friend: "kenapa pulak?"
blogger: "sebab aku tahu filem ini bagus"

So he agreed to watch the movie with me. As predicted, there were a few curious glances as we entered the cinema. I think I was the only chinese watching the film on a saturday afternoon at the mall. I have always been a huge fan of malay movies, and it is really rare for our Malaysian film industry to produce excellent malay films.

I left the cinema with a huge grin and satisfaction, though I couldn't help to think that how similar the movie is to 2 major western movies; Crash and Love Actually, with some local twists to its storyline. The thing that impresses me about this movie is that it is produced by a Malaysian Indian producer, who seemed to understand the malay culture well and capture it beautifully in the film. The soundtrack is superb too. I will look for the soundtrack later. Apparently, it is not out yet in the store - Check out Anuar Zain's Perpisahan below.

You could also check out the official website of the film: http://www.cintathemovie.com

Overall, I would give a thumb up for this Malay movie, and I really encourage my fellow friends (especially non-malays) to take some time off and watch this exquisite made movie. By the way, my malay male friend actually cried at a few points. kakkakakkakak...(ok, i know I am mean)

I bought Sepet-Gubra. It is sitting idled on my desk now. Maybe I will watch it soon and write something about it next time.

Now, go and watch Cinta.....

2006-12-03T00:29:00.000+08:00

Anuar Zain-Perpisahan

*Taken from the movie Cinta-attracted to this song during the movie because of its meaningful lyrics"

Ku mengerti perpisahan ini
Bukan kerana kau membenci
Tapi kasih yang pernah ku beri
Tiada lagi bersama

Sering, kala aku terlihatkan mu
Impian nan indah bersulam bahagia

Ku harungi hari demi hari
Bersama wajah tak mungkin akan kembali
Tapi hati masih tak terima
Ditinggalkan sengsara

Keraguan ini bukanlah padamu
Perasaan hati masih rindu
Kekalutan ini hanyalah untukku
Tercari-cari bayanganmu
Tak sanggup aku kehilangan
Kehilanganmu...
Masih tercari-cari...

Keraguan ini bukanlah padamu
Masih tercari-cari bayanganmu
Tak sanggup aku kehilanganmu

2006-11-23T23:22:00.000+08:00

Ari Lasso - Lirih

Kesunyian ini
Lirih ku bernyanyi
Lagu indah untukmu
Aku bernyanyi

Engkaulah cintaku
Cinta dalam hidupku
Bersama rembulan
Aku menangis
Mengenangmu
S’gala tentangmu… oh
Ku memanggilmu
Dalam hati
Lirih

Engkaulah hidupku
Hidup dan matiku
Tanpa dirimu
Aku menangis
Mengenangmu
S’gala tentangmu… oh
Ku memanggilmu
Dalam hatiku

Aku bernyanyi
Mengenangmu
S’gala tentangmu
Ku memanggilmu
Dalam hati
Lirih

Ku memanggilmu
Dalam hati
Lirih

Ku kenang dirimu…

The Glasses

2006-03-23T13:54:00.000+08:00

Lately, my vision has been particularly fuzzy; the consequence of still draping my pupils with outdated contact lenses despite the radical (bad) changes in my short sightedness and astigmatism. I would be glad to adorn my nerdy glasses but I have been chastised looking exhausted or drowsy in it. So sue me. I am born with droopy eyes. Now, this reminds me of this dwarf Malay friend of mine back in high school. He would, occasionally, walk past and smirk while dragging down the flesh on the opposite ends of both eyes with his hands. Then he would utter “Mata Sepet.” It was back then, I was properly introduced to the proper occasions to the usage of “Puki Mak you.” Profanity was (and is) never really my thing. I guess both of us were caught in the adolescent period where experimenting was not the pre-requisite attribute only in our chemistry class, but in life as well. We experimented and we moved on. And we will find something new to experiment again. It is sort of like putting on another pair of lenses and miraculously hoping for a better view. It might not be as good as the original version when your sights were still powerfully intact, but it could be certainly a better view than what you have now. So, for all my friends who are seeking different lenses in their life right now, I am sure a better view awaits you. I am so going to don my glasses to work tomorrow…

The Bastard

2006-03-17T13:32:00.000+08:00

It is official. I am a bastard. Took some official HR assessments and I am categorized as INTJ under the Myers-Briggs personality test. Interestingly enough, I went to the net to obtain more information. The list below is taken from some obscure site and numerically list down how you should deal with an INTJ (aka me, the bastard).

Be willing to back up your statements with facts - or at least some pretty sound reasoning. Damn right.
Don't expect them to respect you or your viewpoints just because you say so. INTJ respect must be earned.
I thought all respect must be earned? Or am I just under the illusion since I am an INTJ?
Be willing to concede when you are wrong. The average INTJ respects the truth over being "right". Withdraw your erroneous comment and admit your mistake and they will see you as a very reasonable person. Stick to erroneous comments and they will think you are an irrational idiot and treat everything you say as being questionable.
Hehheheh.. This is funny (and true).
Try not to be repetitive. It annoys them.
Who wants to be told so many times?
Do not feed them a line of bull.
No bull is good bull.
Expect debate. INTJs like to tear ideas apart and prove their worthiness. They will even argue a point they don't actually support for the sake of argument.
True ah? Fed would probably utter “Duh.”
Do not mistake the strength of your conviction with the strength of your argument. INTJs do not need to believe in a position to argue it or argue it well. Therefore, it will take more than fervor to sway them.
Another Duh here probably.
Do not be surprised at sarcasm.
I heard a big DUH!
Remember that INTJs believe in workable solutions. They are extremely open-minded to possibilities, but they will quickly discard any idea that is unfeasible. INTJ open-mindedness means that they are willing to have a go at an idea by trying to pull it apart. This horrifies people who expect oohs and ahhs and reverence. The ultimate INTJ insult to an idea is to ignore it, because that means it's not even interesting enough to deconstruct. This also means that they will not just accept any viewpoint that is presented to them. The bottom line is "Does it work?" - end discussion.
Yeah. Contemplating some specific scenarios; I do always ask does it work to the point it irks my friends.
Do not expect INTJs to actually care about how you view them. They already know that they are arrogant bastards with a morbid sense of humor. Telling them the obvious accomplishes nothing.
:( Arrogant bastard? Morbid sense of humor? Damn..

List taken from http://fuzzy.snakeden.org/intj/

The Babbling

2006-03-17T09:15:00.000+08:00

As I peck away, at my laptop, on my way back to Manila after a day at Santa Rosa, I suddenly realize the abrupt switch in perspective in my blog entries. It could be that I hardly travel for leisure these days in the Philippines. If I did, it would be for work and I would end in some secluded hotel room or inundated with work at our local regional offices. So, time flies fast; my engagement here in the Philippines is coming to an end very soon. I wrote fast because the memory of gyrating away on Dec 31st night, wolfing down icy, stinging liquid, and kissing an idiot is still vivid at the back of my mind. And my holy Mary, a quarter of the year is coming to an end soon. Another three quarters to look forward to, I guess. And recently, I received a number of wedding invitations. I postulate that the number of wedding saman per year increases exponentially to each extra year you live once you hit the 20s. So you could imagine, the number of invitations I received this year as I naturally progress to mid 20s (ahem). No typo la.

And I recently signed up for a personal trainer at the gym. 12 sessions (an hour a session) for a dirt cheap price of 5345 peso (roughly RM382). The same number of sessions in KL would cost quadruple the amount, or at least triple the amount, I fork out now. I don’t anticipate that the trainer will miraculously transform my sagging built into a beefy physique, but hope he will do something about my flabby mid-section. I just plainly loathe the numerous occasions when a bunch of yahoos poke fun at my belly.

By the way, I just saw the headlines of the national newspaper today in the Philippines; 65% want Arroyo out. God knows if they will declare another state of emergency soon. If that happened, I would just haul myself up in the apartment and trigger the DVD to watch Desperate Housewives. Someone told me that I am the male version of the character Bree. Damn it.

The Connection

2006-03-13T18:06:00.000+08:00

After a half-day marathon session pouring over academic texts in Starbucks, I half expected some decent experience in utilizing the wifi services advertised so elegantly when I purchased my hot green tea laced with drops of honey. To my utter disappointment, I was disconnected, without warnings, when I laboriously downloading heaps of e-mail messages from the company server. The idea of forking out 100 pesos for 3000 seconds of internet connection should come with flawless execution of the service itself, I trust. So, you could probably imagine my absolute irritation with the egregious level of service offered. Not that the ever-apron donning ladies behind the counter would be of great assistance. I could have purchased another mocha latte for that exact 100 pesos.

Yeah, I am a little cranky these days. Lately, there have been a few changes in my friends’ lives and I postulate that the amendments or alterations kind of injecting a certain level of frustration in my life. Recently, a good friend’s father has been diagnosed with cancer. And adding to the insult, a few hours ago (while the crappy wifi connection was still functioning) I was informed by another good friend at a faraway land that his mom has been diagnosed with cancer and the prognosis is not good. She (the mom) is really a one fine lady.

I guess it is just incomprehensible to me why bad things happened to good people. Maybe John Paulos was right in Innumeracy; practically everything in life is really about probabilistic distribution. One could have miraculously won the grand prize in 4D lottery or could have his wifi connection immobilized without any good reasons (while the lady in front of me is chirpily instant messaging her friends).

Despite that, one can always hold on to the notion that things will get better, and for once, the law of life probability will not hold it against him or her. Call it silly, but I always believe that the mechanism of faith and passion will aid us to sail through the ocean of infinite probability of assorted circumstances. At times, the mechanism might be displaced temporarily, but with the right people pushing the right buttons, it ought to inexplicably appear again, like how it is now with my wifi connection. I am connected…

The Lamp Post

2005-12-26T11:40:00.000+08:00

This entry is dedicated to the most prevalent yet innocuous "lamp post" in the world. ha ha ha. In spite of that, the lamp post represents moments of solidarity in my ever changing turbulent world. So, thank you lamp post for being there when I need it, and for being there when I don't really need it too! :) Merry Christmas to all my readers all over the world.

A moment in Cebu

2005-12-26T11:16:00.000+08:00

As I peck away at my laptop at the Cebu International Airport awaiting my flight to Manila, I try to re-collect my experience meandering the Cebu City for the past few days. Conclusion: it is actually the mini-Manila minus the mayhem. I have pretty much visited the places listed in my Lonely Planet’s guide in 1.5 days. I was in awe of the altar and mural painting of a cathedral church in downtown. I traversed around the vicinity of truly local Carbon wet market. I stood at the Fort San Pedro and scrutinized the Magellan’s Cross said to be left from the 1700s. I went up the Taoist temple at the Beverly Hills (yes, it is called Beverly Hills) to meditate and pray. The nightlife in Cebu is pretty much confined within 3-4 places. And I was truly bowled over by the singing talent possessed by the local denizens. They are just naturally talented.

In the midst of these activities, I was able to observe the conspicuous level of poverty in the day-to-day life of the local people. Young children, in dirty clothes, can be seen walking around bare footed in the city soliciting money from the passerby. Very tanned adolescents, often shirtless, can be observed peddling their paraphernalia under the scorching weather on the streets. Youthful barely legal women can be spotted at the hotel lobby desperately advocating their risqué activities. Life is certainly tough for the people here and the excessive environment pollution, especially in downtown, does not help.

Yet, I am glad that they still possess the charms, smile, and warmth despite the hardship faced. I guess that really helps to assist them to wade through from one day to another.

Balut The Egg

2005-11-24T23:11:00.000+08:00

BALUT!

My last night in Davao was quite memorable. I was challenged, by my local colleagues, to consume one of the Filipino’s delicacies called “Balut.” Balut are actually duck eggs that would have been hatched on the very next day. So practically, these are unborn ducks (inside the eggs – call it fetus if you want) and the locals basically boil these eggs and subsequently deep fry it. Hence, when you consumed these eggs, you would, effortlessly, spot the head, the legs, and oh yes, a bunch of hair of these fetuses. One dips these eggs with soy sauce and gorge down the whole thing, without leaving a tiny bit.

I was told that the producer of Fear Factor actually utilized this “stunt” once in one of their episodes. So, me being me, I gazed at these eggs and truth be told, I shivered at the thought of consuming it. I told myself it is just an egg and bit by bit, shoved it down my throat. My companions watched deliriously but at the end, I just couldn’t consume the helpless butchered head of the fetus. But I was mighty proud that my local colleagues were happy and I have had my first taste of the real delicacy in the Philippines.

The Durian City

2005-11-23T16:05:00.000+08:00

Durian City Down South

I had just settled in Manila late last week before I was asked to travel down south on the following Monday for a business trip that would last a week. My first destination is Davao, which is approximately 1.5 hours flight away from the capital city of Philippines.

Dubbed the biggest city in the Philippines, one’s still in Davao city after 2 hours of journey on a car, it possesses close resemblance to our Kota Kinabalu town. The shore is just a stone throw away and the town is quite tranquil without any commanding high-rises unlike those you observe in Manila. Yet, one can notice subtle nuances such as the mini-version of jeepneys that are traversing around the city.

I did not have much opportunity to explore the place as my schedule was pretty much restrained by business meetings, lunches, and dinners. I am not sure if I will ever come back to this place again, but I would certainly love to learn more about and explore around the city if given the opportunity in the future.

By the way, Davao is famed for its durian. There is even this abandoned hotel building named Durian Hotel in the city. I was telling my colleague that probably the stench emanated from durian made them went kaput. My colleague remarked, “You have got to try it!” I quivered at the thought of swallowing even a piece of the fruit and horizontally shook my head vigorously. I am never a fan of durian. So don’t ask how me how good it is.

Discovery Suite(s)

2005-11-07T22:10:00.000+08:00

As I stepped off the plane and marched into the Ninoy Aquino International Airport, I was welcomed by a local band, of three musicians, rendering soulful Filipino songs. They were plucking the bass, strumming the guitar, and drumming on some exotic percussion in order to elicit donations from the freshly off-plane passengers. They were so good that I would consider to fork out some of my meager asset. Unfortunately, I didn’t have any small bills with me at that time. The whole airport was also decorated, elaborately, with Christmas ornaments, trees, and other paraphernalia that made me scanned my watch a few times. Christmas decorations in early November?

Putting the religion aspect aside, I quickly formed an opinion that Manila is a striking close cousin of Jakarta. I observed very tanned people meandering around town and occasionally witnessed several peasants trying to sell paraphernalia to passengers in cars. The locals’ travel on “jeepneys” and the zigzagging of cars on crowded and small streets strongly reinforce my judgment. Not to mention about the extreme tight security at almost everywhere: hotels, malls, office buildings and even 7-11 convenience stores. These places are guarded by securities who wield metal detector devices and at most of the crowded destinations like the malls and office buildings, one has to pass through the metal detector door, just like that of an airport. Interestingly, on my brief escapade to a nearby mall I even saw a guard who was holding a leash that neatly restrained a German Shepard.

Nevertheless, I feel extremely adventurous on this short-term stay in the Philippines. As I was whisked away to my hotel suite from the airport, I watched in awe of the colorful personalities and rich culture deeply embedded in everything within my sight; the multicolored jeepneys, my chatty tanned driver, the soulful voice of Regina Vallesev (?) on the radio, and even the eloquent and good looking receptionist at my hotel. All these are radiating a feeling that it will certainly be an interesting journey ahead for the next six months.

The Rainbow Connection

2005-11-06T16:04:00.000+08:00

Dedicated to all my sane (and some insane) friends all over the world. May love and happiness shine upon you wherever you are.

The Rainbow Connection - Kermit the Frog
written by Kenny Ascher and Paul Williams

Why are there so many songs about rainbows
And what's on the other side?
Rainbows are visions, but only illusions,
And rainbows have nothing to hide.
So we've been told and some choose to believe it
I know they're wrong, wait and see.
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection,
The lovers, the dreamers and me.

Who said that every wish would be heard and answered
When wished on the morning star?
Somebody thought of that, and someone believed it,
And look what it's done so far.
What's so amazing that keeps us stargazing
And what do we think we might see?
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection,
The lovers, the dreamers, and me.

All of us under its spell,We know that it's probably magic...
... Have you been half asleep? And have you heard voices?
I've heard them calling my name
.... Is this the sweet sound that calls the young sailors?
The voice might be one and the same
I've heard it too many times to ignore it
It's something that I'm s'posed to be...
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection,
The lovers, the dreamers, and me.
Laa, da daa dee da daa daa,La laa la la laa dee daa doo...

Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection,
The lovers, the dreamers, and me.

Final Stop - Nanjing

2005-10-29T10:30:00.000+08:00

A few pictures of chilly Nanjing

A week before my residency in Shanghai ends, I decided, with a group of colleagues, to venture out to the ex-capital of China – Nanjing. Nanjing is approximately 3 hours express train-ride away from Shanghai. The train (soft-seat) was surprisingly comfortable and the inner ambience struck a direct resemblance to the interior of an airplane. As my travel companions wrapped themselves up with layers of clothes, we found ourselves meandering the cold city with enthusiasm.

The city, though less populated and less hectic than Shanghai, is clearly growing in tandem with the country’s astronomical economic growth. One can observe throng of local denizens swarming popular stores such as Nike, KFC, and Haagan-Daaz despite the exorbitant prices slammed on its products. Apparently, westernization of lifestyle is beginning to creep and find its way into the fabric of everyday life of Nanjinese.

A local journey: Street Breakfast, Embedded Dragon & Heavy Bell

Notwithstanding this, we hunted around for local flavor of voyage. On a cold crispy morning, we huddled around a local middle-aged woman deftly flipping and filling a pancake with colorful ingredients on a hot pan by the sidewalk. At first, I was quite hesitated to ram the local pancake, as my breakfast, down my throat given the 2 acute diarrheas I had in Shanghai (first by eating frozen dumpling bought from Carrefour and second after a night of delicious hotpot at an infamous hotpot restaurant). But as a generally risk-taker proponent, I shoved it down and was glad to do so. It was a good meal, I must say. Cheap too (a meager 1.5 yuan).

Nanjing holds a few major attractions – fees-paying green parks, colorful and imposing temples, and it also seems to retain its deep historical sentiments with the erection of Sun Yat Sen’s Memorial and the notorious memorial of Nanjing massacre incident. Evidence of the existence of fear and hatred of the massacre still persist to today. While perusing the many monolithic sculptures, burial sites, and pictures of the horrendous event, a group of supposedly mute/deaf tour group was sauntering in front of me. They do not look local and I was perplexed with their usage of sign language. It did not seem the conventional kind. Not until that I stood quite close to two of them, while scrutinizing a picture of a mutilated woman body, that I heard a whisper of “kanashii” (sad in Japanese) and that I understood the pretense rendered through the sign language. Both of them looked at me eye to eye before they briskly walked away.

Memory of Nanjing

My last meal in Nanjing was a brutal blow to my past efforts of going to the gym. I gormandized heaps of scrumptious pork ribs, a bowl of delectable duck noodle, dozens of crispy and steamed pork dumplings, a handful of soft and succulent Japanese mushrooms, a bottle of iced tea and mineral water. The very next day, I spent 2 torturing hours in the gym in Shanghai.

Back to the Past

2005-10-06T13:38:00.000+08:00

Our plane departed, for the ancient city Xian, from the domestic (Hongqiao) airport located close to the Shanghai city center. One of the chief reasons I was embarking on the Xian journey is to capitalize on the opportunity of the weeklong National holiday in China. Besides, based on my ballpark estimation, it would be relatively cheaper to travel from Shanghai that that of traveling to Xian from Kuala Lumpur.

Hot Spring and Chiang Kai Shek's sanctuary in the past

My arrival in Xian city was greeted by its shuddering cold weather. The first concern registered on my mind was the skimpy clothing I lugged over from Shanghai. Bermudas and short sleeves shirts are, apparently, not in fashion now. I was dumbfounded at the large differences in temperature and weather given the somewhat short flight, of 1.5 hours, from Shanghai to Xian. Well, I persevered. I guess my stints in the US and Canada did provide me with a reasonable level of cold weather-immune perks.

Xian is similar to Beijing to a certain level. The much-admired city wall of Xian resembled the I-forgot-the-name wall I observed in the city of Beijing a little over a year ago. Yet, I noticed subtle nuances. For example, Islamic culture seemed to be well ingrained within the Chinese community there. One could effortlessly observe Chinese men donning “songkok” and proliferation of Muslim restaurants (advertising boards consist of Arabic language) – by the way, the specialty of Muslim restaurants here in Shanghai are grilled lamb on skewers and noodle soup with pieces of breads floating on top of it.

Hua Shan - One of the infamous majestic mountains in China

Three days in Xian enabled me to cover most of the interesting places. Worth noting are Hua Shan and the Terracota warriors. Similar to Yellow Mountain, one should possess the physical (and emotional) strength to batter the cold and extremely steep path that leads to its several peaks. It was raining when I started climbing and no doubt, I was entirely wet and shivering when I reached around 3000 meter above the sea level. Unfortunately once I reached the peaks, the foggy weather had greatly diminished the stunning view of the mountains.

7th wonder of the world - Sight to behold!

The tour of Terracota warriors certainly piqued my interest. I had always wanted to view the 7th wonder of the world with my very own eyes. And I did so with literally thousands of other people crammed within the observatory deck. Well, one could fork out RMB 150 to go down to the pit itself (a rip-off since you already forked out RMB 90 for the admission fees). But pondering about it now, I sorely regret my decision to contest the capitalist system erected at the holy site.

Xian at night - Sprawling with great food and culture

Finally, the night market in the town is certainly for exotic goods bargain hunters and food vultures. My travel companion gulped down a bottle of beer, a bowl of traditional noodle-bread soup, 11 skewers of grilled mutton, and the infamous large pita bread stuffed with meats all in one night (and that is after a heavy meal at a Chinese restaurant). I have to hand it to him.

Top of the world

2005-09-16T16:40:00.000+08:00

Yellow Mountain is listed as one of the world’s heritage, with its reputation rendered to be at the same par with that of the Great Wall of China. The train to Yellow Mountain’ city (also known as Tunxi) took about 11 hours from Shanghai. When we reached Tunxi, there were practically hundreds of locals faithfully lingering at the railway station’s door for our arrivals from Shanghai (The gold mine). Once we stepped off the gate, we were, literally, barge at and shoved with miscellaneous paraphernalia (rain coats, mountain maps, gloves, walking sticks, shoes, etc.). We hailed a shuttle bus and we paid 10 Yuan per person for an hour and a half trip to TangKou, a small city at the foot of the mountain. The trip to Yellow Mountain is a physically challenged task.

Exquisite sceneries at the top of Yellow Mountain

There are many peaks and summits and it would be impossible to cover every peaks and summits in 2 days. But the sights are to behold. Once, we walked into this misty bamboo forest with some amazing grotesque rocks. It looked so surreal as it was with the sceneries of mountain landscapes formed over thousands of years. The Chinese government has performed a great job of conserving and safeguarding this piece of god’s work. Of course, the admission fee of 200 Yuan/person strongly aid in the protection act itself. Nevertheless, Yellow Mountain remains as one of the wonders that every mortal should have the opportunity to view the beauty with their very own eyes.

Crystal clear river at the foot of the mountain

Venice of China

2005-09-15T13:53:00.000+08:00

Zhou Zhuang is not a recent trip. In fact, I went there sometime in July this year but had not had the opportunity to pen down my observation of the place. I thought I should do it before my memory of Zhou Zhuang elapses permanently. The bus ride to this watery town took approximately 2 hours from the city of Shanghai. We forked out 140 Yuan per person (RM 65) for the bus ride and admission fees to the water village. Dubbed the Venice of China, Zhou Zhuang is a charming Chinese village with its infamous canals snaking its ways around the village. July was an awfully scorching month to meander around the town. I was sweating profusely. Nevertheless, I remembered that it was a nice transition from the busy hectic city life to a relatively tranquil and serene traditional Chinese village.

Venice of China - Zhou Zhuang

And as usual, the locals can easily detect my foreign intonation of my attempt to utter a few principal Chinese words that come in handy. As handy as it was, it did not deviate from the fact that I was their targeted gold mine of the day. But my few months in Shanghai taught me the finer art of bargaining, although not perfectly. I don’t remember how much we forked out for the boat we rented to transport us from one end of the town to the other end. But it was certainly an enchanting experience to have a middle-aged lady, both skillfully managing the boat and singing a local tune, to keep us entertained. No doubt, it was such a perfect respite from the city of Shanghai.

Tranquil & Serene Chinese Water Village

Just for Fun

2005-08-22T09:22:00.000+08:00

I am Justice

Justice is a signal to do what needs to be done. A time comes when responsibilities must be accepted, and accounts settled. The past will continue to haunt you if you do not recognize your mistakes and make amends for them. You will need to weigh matters carefully and perhaps make important decisions about your future course.

For a full description of your card and other goodies, please visit LearnTarot.com

What tarot card are you? Enter your birthdate.

The Weekend Excursion Part II

2005-06-24T23:10:00.000+08:00

June 19th 2005 – 6:41 p.m.

I just boarded the train to Shanghai and it has just left the Hang Zhou Railway Station a couple of minutes ago. My brief excursion has been a physically challenge task – hauling my backpack (about 15-20 pounds) on route to every single place I go. But it has been interesting as we were able to roam around the city with a simple map and utilize the public buses (We saved a ton!) to reach tourist spots, though some credits should be awarded to the local citizens for their generosity to share logistics information. When we arrived at the railway station yesterday, we were greeted by a swarm of native Huang Zhou ren who desperately struggling to sway us into purchasing their variety level of tourist services. One guy, who were speaking rather spuriously and speedy, literally spat into my face. Well, spat sounds harsh. Let’s just say I could feel droplets of slightly-thicker-than-water form of liquid gushing toward my face. And it was not raining at that moment.

Anyway, we had had decided to be more adventurous in this journey. So we politely rejected their offers and hopped on a bus to our first stop – the infamous tea farm. In the bus, we were approached by this pleasant looking local aged woman who inquired about our journey. She told us that she lives nearby the tea farm and she would direct the way at our stop. After we got off the bus at Long Jing, she led all of us to a place. I grew suspicious and my instinct was right. She brought us to this old house near a tea hill.

We trekked on a long journey to Long Jing Tea Farm and Nine Creeks in Misty Forest

It was in the middle of nowhere, but the tea hills reminded me of Cameron Highland. We met another lady who politely served us the famed Long Jing tea. I knew somehow that we had to buy some tealeaves before we leave. It really didn’t matter anyway as my travel companions were looking for this tea. At that time, I just hope we would not be butchered. Somehow, scenes from the Stephen King’s movie “Misery” were frantically flashing in my head. After my feelings settled down, it just dawned on me that these peasants were just struggling to live their life in the ever-ultra competitive world they have here. We bought some tea at a reasonable price at the end, as we overheard, later on our hiking journey, that a Wunan couple who bought the same tea at a slightly lower price. Oh well, I was just glad to be let out from the remote tea village.

Pictures from the Six Harmonies Pagoda - A view of Hang Zhou

Next, we hiked to this Chinese restaurant in the middle of the misty forest, climbed the Pagoda tower, and ended the exhausting day at the Tiger Spring that is renowned for its crystal clear superior quality of mineral water. I learned that the water quality is of utmost importance in making Chinese tea. We had some real expensive Chinese tea there. Apparently, tea is to Chinese as coffee is to American.

Dream of the Tiger Spring - Pure, Crystal Clear Mineral Water - Expensive Too!

We headed back to the city, checked into our hotel, went out for a late supper, and called it the night. On Sunday morning, we were pretty energized (by the sumptuous breakfast at the hotel) to begin the day. It was, again, an entirely physically challenging task to climb the huge Chinese temple and wander around the West Lake.

Temple of the Soul's Retreat

We ended our excursion at approximately 5:30 p.m. and hailed a cab to the railway station. Everything was great except that I don’t really find Hang Zhou a superbly exquisite and charming place. I reckon that this may have to do with the summer season (or wrong season) in which we are traveling.

West Lake (Xi Hu)

It was scorching to saunter under the baking sun, and with a 30 pounds of stuff behind your back, it did not help. Nevertheless, I could easily picture how beautiful Hang Zhou would be during autumn and winter seasons. I may come back again in October. But in the mean time, I am just itchy to go home, unpack, take a much-needed shower, and slither into my bed.

Hang Zhou City

The Weekend Excursion

2005-06-24T22:30:00.000+08:00

June 18th 2005 – 8:11 a.m.

Shanghai Railway Station & Its Short-Haul Train to Hang Zhou

My weekend excursion to Hang Zhou initiated at an ungodly hour of the morning. The train, a ride of approximately 2 ½ hours, would leave at 7:30 a.m. Nevertheless, I received a little booster of strength, to drag myself out of the bed, with the fact that it was already brightly lit out there at 5:30 a.m. With its policy of standardizing the national Chinese time zone, you would find east provinces to greet the sun relatively early than the west provinces (though you probably agree with me that China could be easily spread over several time zones)

I reached Shanghai Railway Station at a quarter to seven. While waiting for my voyage companions, I was amazingly stunned by the exodus of people at the station. I am pretty sure the holiday season is barely around the corner. As such, I could not fathom how the railway station would cope up during major holidays. The train, a double-decked, looks old in exterior but make up for its comfortable interior. The only I regret that I have is that I am pecking away at my laptop on an aisle seat (with the laptop on my lap – Mmm that rhymes!). I would rather have a window seat (for the view) with a small table attached to it (for my laptop).

As the train moved toward its destination, the skyline of Shanghai is diminishing and replaced with a serene greenery view of outskirts of Shanghai. The view reminds me of the journey across Kedah, in Malaysia, where you practically gaze at vast agricultural piece of land. The only noticeable nuances, in this comparison, are the Chinese-looking brick huts (as opposed to traditional looking wooden Malay houses) and the cone-like pine-like trees (as opposed to mmm, regular looking trees in Kedah)

I have approximately 50 minutes before I reach Hang Zhou. By the way, Hang Zhou is one of the popular tourist destinations in China. It is infamous for its renowned West Lake, purportedly living up to its reputation as one of the most beautiful places in China. There is a catch though. I am heading there with my travel companions, who barely mutter a few Chinese words and I, oh well you know, who have the language competency of a 4-year old. And we will be practically cut off of communication there (our prepaid Chinese sim cards won’t work there if we run into troubles). But being a prudent traveler, I tag along my Maxis sim card since I roam internationally. I think it will be a fun and adventurous weekend excursion.

Just Pictures

2005-06-03T23:58:00.000+08:00

Dawn in Pudong, Shanghai - Tallest tower view & night view of The Bund

The Altruism

2005-05-29T21:12:00.000+08:00

The ubiquitous phrase “packed in like a canned of sardine,” used often in Malaysia, does not really live up to its genuine meaning in Malaysia, as I found out recently in Shanghai. My first journey on Metro (equivalent to the subway) in Shanghai during peak hours was both an exhilarating and haunting experience that would be entrenched in my memory for years to come. Violent would be a harsh, but a close proximity, connotation to paint the scene at the Metro stations. There are four major Metro lines running across the city to serve the population of 20 odd millions. During peak hours, you can imagine the throng of people frantically shoving each other to get on the trains (boys, girls, men and women alike). And don’t even assume safety if you position yourself right in front of the door. You will be pushed and once the door opened, all hell breaks loose. It does not end there. Inside the trains, you will have the opportunity to embrace, literally, your shanghainese fellows. You will practically feel their breath sliding down your face as they talk. Talking about closeness!

And I had my first Shanghainese hair cut today! It was free of charge anyway and this what happened. I found out that hair cut package in Shanghai comprised of upper torso massage. I was practically massaged over; my head, neck, shoulder, hands, and my fingers. It took about an hour of massage probably. And this may sound gross to some of you, but they even practically clean up your ear with cotton buds. No doubt I was very uncomfortable but heck, I am in Shanghai now. Then, my haircut began. After approximately 15 minutes, I felt a sharp pain on my ear and I shrieked out softly “Shit!”

Evidently, the stylist had accidentally sliced the tip of my left ear with his ever-sharp scissor. He profusely apologized and used a tissue to dab my blood away. Of course I was horrified, but I let it go and he bandaged up the tip nicely. He continued to cut my hair and I got to admit, I nudged a little when he came close to my other ears with his weapon.
The haircut was quite good, and I went to the counter to make the payment. The stylist rushed to the counter and spoke in Mandarin that he would pay for it. I refused and said that it was all right in my broken Mandarin. He insisted and forked out RMB 40 from his wallet and made the payment while apologized profusely again. I was slightly embarrassed but nevertheless, thank him and strode out of the salon.

It was a very nice gesture and I am particularly glad that in the midst of all the thoughts I bear so far of Shanghainese, their altruism seems to seep in gradually. I think I will be back at the salon again next month. Heck, I look good in this hair cut.

Where on Earth?

2005-05-09T07:30:00.000+08:00

Shanghai is one huge city. With its soaring population of about 15 million, it is, needless to say, a congested cosmopolis. So, I will attempt to situate myself geographically on a metro map (retrieved from urbanrail.net). Just regard this as a fundamental lesson in Shanghai Geography 101. Take a look at the map and the three small red circles on it.

Shanghai Metro Map

The Huangpu River segregates the city into two major districts. Pudong, dubbed as the Wall Street of China, positioned itself comfortably on the right side of the river. It is where I go to work practically everyday. Despite its famed commerce reputation, Pudong is still enduring major industrial developments, leaving much growth to be witnessed in the next few years. To the left of the river, you will find high rises, touristy restaurants, desolate settlements, avant garde shopping malls, re-constructions; all gravitate toward the Puxi district, where most of the Shanghainese live and where I will eventually inhabit some time next week. I am currently slightly up north, pecking away at my keyboard in my hotel room.

I haven't had the opportunity to squeeze myself into the human-packed metro trains yet though I have an inkling that I willl not be able to run away from that next week. It will be a very convenient though an uncomfortable scenario to picture about. Oh heck, it is certainly a more economical means that throwing away my yuans away for hailing the cabs. I'm ecstatic on the prospect of moving to the new apartment in downtown Puxi next week though. I just got to remind myself to articulate the name more accurately. One of my Malaysian colleagues constantly reminds me "It is PUXI, not PUSSY!" Ah, the language. Isn't it intriguing?

Lady Luck

2005-05-06T11:25:00.000+08:00

For the past few days, I have been utilizing an unorthodox technique to decide what meals would be served on the table in the restaurant. Given my illiteracy and imbecile level of comprehending those little stroky characters, I would, to the amusement of the waitresses, stretch out my index finger and point to the particular dish that would rest in my tummy eventually. My only fear on this occasion is that I would end up chomping down some exotic delicacies. As a result, I would first poke, with my stick, the dishes to ensure there is nothing funny squirming around.

Now, here is the funny part. Yesterday, holding on to my promise to watch what slides down my esophagus, I jovially picked up one sole dish. When my dish arrived, I looked at it half amused and half riled up. I was whispering between my breath “God damn it, this is what I had yesterday!” Of all the dishes listed in the elaborated menu, I picked exactly the same dish I had had.

So, for dinner tonight I aimed my index at 2 different dishes with its proximity a few pages away in the menu. The waitress looked at me in a funny way. I knew I was screwed. God knows what I had ordered. Like a prisoner awaiting his last meal before execution, I fidgeted in my seat uncomfortably. Finally, the waitress marched over and placed the 2 dishes before my very own eyes. I was really amused then. Two different types of EGG dishes. Of all the combination I could get, I got 2 egg dishes. It reminded me so much of the mix and match game, which I foresee I would probably be damn good at. Maybe it is a sign, that life would be so bad at all with lady luck shining down on me in Shanghai. Or it could be a sign, I read too much stories.

Eyes on Shanghai

2005-05-04T11:22:00.000+08:00

I weighed myself with the weighing scale, available in the bathroom, and to my utter astonishment, I have gained 2 kg over a period of 2 days! I am a big time eater but the feat of accumulating extra 2 kg over 2 days is just an anecdotal evidence of how really greasy the food here. I swear that I will start watching the stuff I gulp down commencing tomorrow.

I traversed on foot in downtown Shanghai today for about 4 hours. It was a remarkable sight as in one minute you are wedged between towering skyscrapers and the next minute you found yourself meandering the quaint area of lane houses and old apartments. Interestingly, the sights of commoners squatting, by the streets, and gorging down their bowl of rice are customary. Hygiene is probably something the people here should work at. You could easily catch a glimpse of a John Doe (or Jane Doe) leisurely spitting with a deadly accuracy on the street. And I spotted a young lady, on my way back from dinner, who liberally flung a carton of empty milk box onto the street.

Speaking of liberalism, I was surprised to stumble upon prurient materials effortlessly reachable practically all over. And when I said prurient materials, I don’t mean magazines alone (use your imagination). And I thought KL was more tolerant and open-minded!

Crossing the streets on foot here is a mental and physical challenge. Gym is not a good business proposition as you finally cross the streets; your heart rate is equivalent to that of a 30-minutes workout on a treadmill. Who needs gym! Not only the vehicles can turn right on a red light, they can even do so without stopping. But the drivers here are pretty decent: they honk to give you a signal that they are ready to ram you over if you fail to obey to the former.

Eyes on China

2005-05-03T11:17:00.000+08:00

My flight ticket indicated that the passage to Shanghai would take 5 hours 20 minutes. In reality, it took us a mere 4 hours and 30 minutes to reach the gargantuan Pudong International Airport. The immigration and baggage claiming were surprisingly a swift process. I suspect this was contributed by 2 factors; it is the second day of their national labor holiday and it was darn early in the morning (6:30 a.m.).

The air was breezy and crispy cool on the flesh as I stepped off the terminal. Almost immediately, this young Chinese gentleman walked briskly toward me. I knew, through instinct, that he was a cab driver. Since he spoke only a few phrases of English, I reached into my back bag for the address of the hotel that I would be staying temporarily. He nodded in response and we were on our way after I validated the fare that I would be forking out to him. During the 50 minutes conversation, we engaged in what I perceived to be my very first lesson in Mandarin. Through my egregious command of the language, I managed to understand, say, 85% of what he said but found that it was a slightly intricate process for me to articulate my thoughts in the language.

I checked into the hotel and took a brief nap before headed down the streets for a brief walk around noon. Astonishingly, the weather was surprisingly blustery. And I thought, how scorching the weather in Kuala Lumpur would be given the exact moment in time. I walked and my eyes roamed around to observe the people and their lives in, what supposedly to be the fastest growing and exclaimed avant-garde city, Shanghai. Apparently, poverty is still lurking (visibly) amidst the towering skyscrapers and fashionable urbanites sashaying down the street.

Shanghai Puxi District at night (Level 15th of Guang Dong Hotel)

I would deem that the standard of living here is equivalent to that of Kuala Lumpur. After conversion, the stuff (price of food, books, magazines, drink) is approximately identical, and some are even categorical cheaper. Only the lodgings (apartments, houses) are on the slightly steep side. That is a personal account that I have garnered during my first day in Shanghai. With six more months to go, I am convinced that I will have much more to disclose. Definitely, without doubt, this short relocation would be a life enriching experience, both personally and professionally.

The Red Hill

2005-04-18T11:08:00.000+08:00

The small quaint Ipoh town on the way to Bukit Merah

Bukit Merah (literally means Red Hill) : A pristine getaway hidden behind the petite hills when you head up north on North-South Highway. The journey to Bukit Merah took around 3 hours, thanks to one of our colleagues who had the urge to pause our journey for a "short" teabreak at one of the many rest stops available along the freeway (You know who you are: KIAM SIAP LO)

A picturesque morning view

The first sight took my breath away: a spectacular view of the gargantuan lake visible on top of the hill. The resort has nothing to be shouted about. Yet, I discover it is really a neat quick place for you to escape the hustle bustle of the city life. There are myriad of activities that you can indulge in there. To begin with, you can hop in the boat for a short journey to the Orang Utan island.

Knock Knock! Who is there? It is me Elliyas!

I have always been fascinated by the amazing creature. At one point, I was reaching out to this orang utan placed in a cage. The orang utan, as human as he could be, tried to sneak his hand out to touch me, which I eventually did. I was humble by his blissful disposition. (By the way, you are actually not allowed to touch the orang utan there)

Amazing creature

After the brief stopover at the orang utan island, we headed back to the mainland to visit the Ecopark. As one of the officers succinctly put it, "It is a mini-zoo." I enjoyed one particular section of the mini zoo where you practically can play, touch, and poke those little creatures like mice, rabbits, guinea pigs, lambs, etc. It was so much fun. And you have the waterpark. Although, it is not as impressive as the Sunway Lagoon Water Park, I could feel that my colleagus had tons load of fun there. And in the evening, you can stroll leisurely along the lake or sing karoke in the middle of the lake, which we did. We paid a meagre RM 5 to noise-pollute the environment with 3 songs. Beware of the mosquitoes though!

April in Penang Island

2005-04-08T10:55:00.000+08:00

Pearl of the Orient in Malaysia

As a food enthusiast, my brief work trip to Penang island was both gratifying and filling, literally! Though I did not really have the opportunity to traverse around the island, my brief scavenger trips at nights were well worth it. It is still pretty much the same quaint island as it was many years ago. However, you can literally witness the sluggish urban development, to undergird the request of national's needs for growth, slowly eating into the island. Thankfully, the positions of most of the pre-war and post-war buildings are still intact. I do recognize the effort of the local authority to preserve some of these treasured entities. For example, I discovered a KFC right in front of my hotel, fitting comfortably into an old pasty post-war mansion. At night, it is illuminated as if to spread the notion that contemporary commerce can blend perfectly with entrenched culture of Penang island.

Fusion of modern and ancient world

Food does not come cheap anymore. While I was gulping down a RM 2.50 bowl of curry mee, I mused over the ancient age where the same bowl of mee would only be charged a scanty 50 cents when I was little. But that was about 20 years ago. How time flies. By comparison, the cost of living in Penang island is still relatively lower than that of Kuala Lumpur. The only thing I detest most are the cab drivers. They don't use meters and can practically charge you anything. In one particular case, the cab driver thought I was a Korean and tried to charge an exorbitant fee for a brief journey from Gurney Drive to my hotel. That I suddenly blurted out in my proficient command of Malay that he uttered "Cakap awal lah sikit, orang Malaysia." (Should have told me earlier you are a Malaysian)

It was embarassing as I was accompanied by my Hong Kong colleague who later commented that the cab drivers in Malaysia are slightly cunning. I couldn't agree more with her statement.