HSBC in Dubai is the #$%*!+^!! worst bank in the world. It is ****ED UP. Ya, I'll say it again just to stress my point - HSBC UAE is ****ED UP. All banks here are ****ed up. This whole place is one big **** up. I know my timing sucks cos I just happen to be pissed off with this country on the eve of its national day, but TOO BAD!! YOU SUCK!!!
Saturday, December 01, 2007
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Parklane Pai-kia
The older we get, the more our memories fade. First we forget little details, then moments, and eventually even huge chunks of time. When I was around 21, I started some sort of journal, something I call my “I Remember… Book” in which I listed little bits of memories from as far back as I could remember. Every now and then if I remembered something, I’d add it to the list. Most of them were memories of the antics of my brothers and I as kids, like how we’d fling my Mom’s rotan (a thin but wicked strip of bamboo that she caned us with if we misbehaved) up onto the roof of our house. Quite often you’d hear my Mom yelling, “Si gin-na! Where did you hide the cane this time?!!”
Anyway, this post isn’t about my childhood memories, as I already have most of them jotted down in that journal somewhere in Singapore. Instead, here’s something from Ben’s ‘archives’. I may not get all the facts right since this is a second-hand account, so if anyone finds something wrong or really offensive, please do let me know.
Sometimes Ben recalls something from his past, not so much from early childhood but mainly memories from his ‘strayed’ adolescence, and happily goes on a long rant about it. Give him a couple more years and I’m quite sure he’ll forget more and more of these snippets of the past that he already vaguely remembers now.
Recently he told me about how he and his friends would go to Parklane every Saturday when they were teenagers… to just lepak or act cool or make a nuisance of themselves, I suppose. A whole group of about 20 of them would ride the double-deckered number 14 SBS bus from the East side of Singapore to the city and back. They would usually take up the entire top deck and… lepak, act cool, or make a nuisance of themselves lah. Back then, most of the buses weren’t air-conditioned yet, and this served these boys well since they could have the windows open, act cool, and make a nuisance of themselves some more.
The bus route would also take them past a particular house in Katong which always seemed to be having a ‘party’ on weekends. So they’d shout, “Oi, party bo chio!” (loosely translated to “got party, never invite”) It was only much later (in life) that they discovered this was a Sai Baba house of worship.
While waiting at bus stops, they also had this “sabo-routine” where all of them would stand in a line in front of the bus stop. As a bus came by, if one of them was standing where the bus door opened, he would be forced to dance in front of the bus. As fate would have it, the bus door would open in front of Cyril almost every time.
Around this same stage in their clueless teenage years, Ben and friends also picked up a Hokkien phrase from Desmond’s Mom. Apparently, she would sometimes be heard saying “Kam kio!”, which literally translates as “suck brinjal” in Hokkien. I guess we’ll have to check with Desmond if it was to be taken literally, or if it was just a figure of speech, like “holy shit” or like how my Mom and aunts always use the meaningless term, “ua-ko” (bowl-cake). But trust Ben, Desmond and guys to make use of this ‘colourful’ new-found term to their delight.
Sometimes, they’d hail taxis for no reason at all. The taxi would stop and then they’d say they didn’t want to take it. Or they’d mention absurd locations like “Uncle, Johor?” But the favourite joke on taxi drivers would be, “Uncle, ai kam kio?” (“uncle, wanna suck brinjal?”) The taxi driver would then say, “Ang Mo Kio?” and they’d say no and ask again, “Ai kam kio?”
So for our next trip back to Singapore, we have a short list of things to do:
1. visit ‘that’ house in Katong
2. ask Desmond’s Mom the real meaning of ‘kam kio’
3. get Cyril to grace us with a dance
Anyway, this post isn’t about my childhood memories, as I already have most of them jotted down in that journal somewhere in Singapore. Instead, here’s something from Ben’s ‘archives’. I may not get all the facts right since this is a second-hand account, so if anyone finds something wrong or really offensive, please do let me know.
Sometimes Ben recalls something from his past, not so much from early childhood but mainly memories from his ‘strayed’ adolescence, and happily goes on a long rant about it. Give him a couple more years and I’m quite sure he’ll forget more and more of these snippets of the past that he already vaguely remembers now.
Recently he told me about how he and his friends would go to Parklane every Saturday when they were teenagers… to just lepak or act cool or make a nuisance of themselves, I suppose. A whole group of about 20 of them would ride the double-deckered number 14 SBS bus from the East side of Singapore to the city and back. They would usually take up the entire top deck and… lepak, act cool, or make a nuisance of themselves lah. Back then, most of the buses weren’t air-conditioned yet, and this served these boys well since they could have the windows open, act cool, and make a nuisance of themselves some more.
The bus route would also take them past a particular house in Katong which always seemed to be having a ‘party’ on weekends. So they’d shout, “Oi, party bo chio!” (loosely translated to “got party, never invite”) It was only much later (in life) that they discovered this was a Sai Baba house of worship.
While waiting at bus stops, they also had this “sabo-routine” where all of them would stand in a line in front of the bus stop. As a bus came by, if one of them was standing where the bus door opened, he would be forced to dance in front of the bus. As fate would have it, the bus door would open in front of Cyril almost every time.
Around this same stage in their clueless teenage years, Ben and friends also picked up a Hokkien phrase from Desmond’s Mom. Apparently, she would sometimes be heard saying “Kam kio!”, which literally translates as “suck brinjal” in Hokkien. I guess we’ll have to check with Desmond if it was to be taken literally, or if it was just a figure of speech, like “holy shit” or like how my Mom and aunts always use the meaningless term, “ua-ko” (bowl-cake). But trust Ben, Desmond and guys to make use of this ‘colourful’ new-found term to their delight.
Sometimes, they’d hail taxis for no reason at all. The taxi would stop and then they’d say they didn’t want to take it. Or they’d mention absurd locations like “Uncle, Johor?” But the favourite joke on taxi drivers would be, “Uncle, ai kam kio?” (“uncle, wanna suck brinjal?”) The taxi driver would then say, “Ang Mo Kio?” and they’d say no and ask again, “Ai kam kio?”
So for our next trip back to Singapore, we have a short list of things to do:
1. visit ‘that’ house in Katong
2. ask Desmond’s Mom the real meaning of ‘kam kio’
3. get Cyril to grace us with a dance
A bitter pill
I caught the flu bug two weeks back and did not visit a clinic or see a doctor for medication. I usually self-medicate, and only see the doctor when I need an MC, need to stock up on painkillers, or am really sick and have no idea what I’m suffering from.
Another reason why I especially don’t like to visit a doctor when I’m suffering from the flu/fever is cos I don’t take antibiotics. I have a phobia of swallowing pills, and till now, still crush my pills to a powdered pulp to mix with a bit of water and then swallow in liquid form… no matter how bitter or gross it is.
So if I tell a doctor this, he gives me the same look that my Dad does, like it’s really such a crime to have a phobia. I really think it’s kinda unfair to be judged and treated like a kid just cos I take my meds like a two-year old. Some people are afraid of heights, needles, blood, rats, the supernatural, or whatever.
So I think I’m pretty gungho if compared to quite a lot of people, since nothing much scares me… except big cockroaches, pills..... and dirty old men.
Quite often the doctor just prescribes me pills anyway, even when I say I can’t swallow them. Like my Dad again, the doctor will say, “You shouldn’t have any problem swallowing it, it’s not that big… or it’s just a capsule”. In fact I can’t remember the last time a doctor has agreed to give me meds in liquid form like the gross pink or yellow goo that they force on kids.
So sometimes I don’t even bother telling the doctor that I can’t swallow pills. I just see him to get an MC and then throw away whatever meds he gives me. That’s why I never take antibiotics, cos I would definitely never finish a course.
We recently had dinner with Ben’s supplier Rohit and his wife Geetha. They’ve been living in Dubai for 16 years and told us that doctors and clinics here suck big time. So it turns out the lack of knowledge and efficiency isn’t just restricted to banks and governmental institutions. It really applies to everything in Dubai. Big and small companies, local and multinational, across all the various fields/industries.
Geetha had the flu two months back which developed into pneumonia and she just recovered about a week ago! It seems the doctors here are really, really useless. They never give you the proper medication that’s meant to cure you immediately. Instead, they’ll give you “Cocktail A” which you take for 7 – 10 days, then prescribe you with “Cocktail B” when you find that you’re not getting any better, and after almost a month of all sorts of drugs, they decide happy hour’s finally over and present you with “Cocktail C”.
And the few doctors who are supposed to be good are booked so far ahead that if you were sick today, he’d be able to see you two weeks later. So I can’t imagine why people would say he/she was a good doctor if they only visited them after making an appointment weeks before, meaning patients are either well by the time they see these “good” doctors, or close to dying, or plain psychic.
Since I’m not working now, I treated my flu with lots of rest, liquids, vitamin C, honey, lemon, Panadol Cold & Flu, and Lemsip Max. I guess doing it this way takes longer than if I ‘nuked’ it with real drugs from a doctor. The flu took about 10 days to pass from different stages of fever, body ache, headache, blocked nose, plus lots and lots of green stuff…
I stopped taking cough syrup after ten days cos apparently that’s the maximum amount of days you can take cough mixture continually, and if it’s not cured by then, it means the cough has already developed into an infection or whatever.
However, the cough that develops during the course of the flu for me always lingers on for much longer, sometimes up to two months, and I usually just wait for it to pass without any medication. This post-flu cough of mine usually ‘sounds’ really bad, like a whooping cough, where I’d have a really deep cough that sounds like an old car with a loud and rusty engine followed by wheezing and shortness of breath. This time around though, it doesn’t sound so bad but it ‘feels’ quite bad.
Since yesterday, my chest has been hurting a lot. First it hurt when I coughed, then by the end of the day, it just hurt, like I had a huge internal blue-black. It's never hurt this way before and Ben's kinda worried and wants me to see a doctor about it, but I'm still hoping it'll heal itself in due course.
Anyway, I just learned that they’ve just gone and banned 4 different flu meds and a few other cough meds, including Panadol Cold & Flu. Like how Decolgen was banned a few years back, apparently these recent additions to the list of banned drugs cause some pretty serious side effects, like heart failure or some scary shit like that.
This kinda stuff gets you thinking…. These are approved drugs - tried, tested, approved, and sold over the counter for years. Every year, hundreds of different drugs are taken off the shelf cos some ‘genius’ discovers that it has potentially dangerous side effects.
So how the hell do drugs get approved only to be later “discovered” unsafe? Well, most drugs are already known to be potentially harmful, and its side effects are usually stated in the fine print on that small piece of paper that come with meds that we don’t bother to read.
And you know how we have some friends or relatives who always bombard us with forwarded emails about the dangers of this and that? Like, oh, don’t microwave such and such a thing cos it will release some sorta toxin that will cause cancer, or don’t consume such and such a thing cos it contains such and such an ingredient that’s the same stuff that’s used to clean industrial machinery. Half the time these emails warn of cancer-causing materials/ingredients. Then there are the emails that highlight the qualities of certain products/ingredients and how it combats cancer or any disease/ailment known to man.
Well, I guess now I know that perhaps there’s some truth to some of these emails and as much as I’m sometimes annoyed by the bombardment of forwarded emails, I also have to remember that it’s usually sent by thoughtful relatives and friends who may seem like hypochondriacs at times but I guess the bottomline is that, they worry, and they care.
I’m not gonna turn into a hypochondriac, but I recently read an online article from The Ecologist about Lemsip Max Cold & Flu Capsules that really got my attention since I’m an over-the-counter-drug-junkie when it comes to the flu. The Ecologist has a regular “Behind The Label” article that features the potentially harmful contents found in all sorts of products. This recent article highlighted over-the-counter flu meds, especially since it’s Winter and the flu bug is going around.
According to this article, most over-the-counter remedies “have been found – through objective, scientific studies – to be useless”.
“Crucially, people who regularly purchase cold and flu remedies are usually ill when they make their purchases, and this phenomenon, known as the ‘distress factor’, is a real boon to manufacturers. Sick people don’t think, they simply want relief – immediately.”
“So, in spite of the fact that nothing you can buy will cure your cold, a huge number of us have succumbed to the hit-it-hard-and-hit-it fast remedies such as the Lemsip ‘Max’ range, which predominate on the pharmacist’s shelves and promise that you can happily continue to work long hours and enjoy a full social life, even if your body is telling you to slow down.”
The article takes Lemsip Max as an example, and lists its ingredients with descriptions and side effects. You can find the full article here.
Medical and scientific studies have shown that the best cure for the flu is rest, warmth and lots of liquids. But with our busy lifestyles, we seldom have the luxury of taking more than a day or two off work to cure a cold. So we rely on over-the-counter remedies that only offer temporary relief.
The scary thing here is not that these drugs don’t actually cure you, but that in the long run, it may be harmful to your health. Perhaps that’s why my cough is so bad. Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) believes that if a cough is suppressed or not treated correctly, it will remain in your body and may eventually develop into something worse.
"According to TCM understanding, many conditions can have their origin in an untreated cough: asthma, diabetes, and even cancer." [Ref: article about Cough and TCM]
So now, I’m desperately waiting for an alternative cough remedy to arrive from Malaysia. My Mom has mailed me a packet of tong sum (Codonopsis root) to be cooked based on a recipe of tong sum, ginger and lean beef, stewed for half a day as a herbal broth to cure bronchitis. Let’s hope this works, cos I’d really rather not see a doctor (especially since they don’t have that “power” black cough syrup here cos most drugs here are alcohol-free).
Another reason why I especially don’t like to visit a doctor when I’m suffering from the flu/fever is cos I don’t take antibiotics. I have a phobia of swallowing pills, and till now, still crush my pills to a powdered pulp to mix with a bit of water and then swallow in liquid form… no matter how bitter or gross it is.
So if I tell a doctor this, he gives me the same look that my Dad does, like it’s really such a crime to have a phobia. I really think it’s kinda unfair to be judged and treated like a kid just cos I take my meds like a two-year old. Some people are afraid of heights, needles, blood, rats, the supernatural, or whatever.
So I think I’m pretty gungho if compared to quite a lot of people, since nothing much scares me… except big cockroaches, pills..... and dirty old men.
Quite often the doctor just prescribes me pills anyway, even when I say I can’t swallow them. Like my Dad again, the doctor will say, “You shouldn’t have any problem swallowing it, it’s not that big… or it’s just a capsule”. In fact I can’t remember the last time a doctor has agreed to give me meds in liquid form like the gross pink or yellow goo that they force on kids.
So sometimes I don’t even bother telling the doctor that I can’t swallow pills. I just see him to get an MC and then throw away whatever meds he gives me. That’s why I never take antibiotics, cos I would definitely never finish a course.
We recently had dinner with Ben’s supplier Rohit and his wife Geetha. They’ve been living in Dubai for 16 years and told us that doctors and clinics here suck big time. So it turns out the lack of knowledge and efficiency isn’t just restricted to banks and governmental institutions. It really applies to everything in Dubai. Big and small companies, local and multinational, across all the various fields/industries.
Geetha had the flu two months back which developed into pneumonia and she just recovered about a week ago! It seems the doctors here are really, really useless. They never give you the proper medication that’s meant to cure you immediately. Instead, they’ll give you “Cocktail A” which you take for 7 – 10 days, then prescribe you with “Cocktail B” when you find that you’re not getting any better, and after almost a month of all sorts of drugs, they decide happy hour’s finally over and present you with “Cocktail C”.
And the few doctors who are supposed to be good are booked so far ahead that if you were sick today, he’d be able to see you two weeks later. So I can’t imagine why people would say he/she was a good doctor if they only visited them after making an appointment weeks before, meaning patients are either well by the time they see these “good” doctors, or close to dying, or plain psychic.
Since I’m not working now, I treated my flu with lots of rest, liquids, vitamin C, honey, lemon, Panadol Cold & Flu, and Lemsip Max. I guess doing it this way takes longer than if I ‘nuked’ it with real drugs from a doctor. The flu took about 10 days to pass from different stages of fever, body ache, headache, blocked nose, plus lots and lots of green stuff…
I stopped taking cough syrup after ten days cos apparently that’s the maximum amount of days you can take cough mixture continually, and if it’s not cured by then, it means the cough has already developed into an infection or whatever.
However, the cough that develops during the course of the flu for me always lingers on for much longer, sometimes up to two months, and I usually just wait for it to pass without any medication. This post-flu cough of mine usually ‘sounds’ really bad, like a whooping cough, where I’d have a really deep cough that sounds like an old car with a loud and rusty engine followed by wheezing and shortness of breath. This time around though, it doesn’t sound so bad but it ‘feels’ quite bad.
Since yesterday, my chest has been hurting a lot. First it hurt when I coughed, then by the end of the day, it just hurt, like I had a huge internal blue-black. It's never hurt this way before and Ben's kinda worried and wants me to see a doctor about it, but I'm still hoping it'll heal itself in due course.
Anyway, I just learned that they’ve just gone and banned 4 different flu meds and a few other cough meds, including Panadol Cold & Flu. Like how Decolgen was banned a few years back, apparently these recent additions to the list of banned drugs cause some pretty serious side effects, like heart failure or some scary shit like that.
This kinda stuff gets you thinking…. These are approved drugs - tried, tested, approved, and sold over the counter for years. Every year, hundreds of different drugs are taken off the shelf cos some ‘genius’ discovers that it has potentially dangerous side effects.
So how the hell do drugs get approved only to be later “discovered” unsafe? Well, most drugs are already known to be potentially harmful, and its side effects are usually stated in the fine print on that small piece of paper that come with meds that we don’t bother to read.
And you know how we have some friends or relatives who always bombard us with forwarded emails about the dangers of this and that? Like, oh, don’t microwave such and such a thing cos it will release some sorta toxin that will cause cancer, or don’t consume such and such a thing cos it contains such and such an ingredient that’s the same stuff that’s used to clean industrial machinery. Half the time these emails warn of cancer-causing materials/ingredients. Then there are the emails that highlight the qualities of certain products/ingredients and how it combats cancer or any disease/ailment known to man.
Well, I guess now I know that perhaps there’s some truth to some of these emails and as much as I’m sometimes annoyed by the bombardment of forwarded emails, I also have to remember that it’s usually sent by thoughtful relatives and friends who may seem like hypochondriacs at times but I guess the bottomline is that, they worry, and they care.
I’m not gonna turn into a hypochondriac, but I recently read an online article from The Ecologist about Lemsip Max Cold & Flu Capsules that really got my attention since I’m an over-the-counter-drug-junkie when it comes to the flu. The Ecologist has a regular “Behind The Label” article that features the potentially harmful contents found in all sorts of products. This recent article highlighted over-the-counter flu meds, especially since it’s Winter and the flu bug is going around.
According to this article, most over-the-counter remedies “have been found – through objective, scientific studies – to be useless”.
“Crucially, people who regularly purchase cold and flu remedies are usually ill when they make their purchases, and this phenomenon, known as the ‘distress factor’, is a real boon to manufacturers. Sick people don’t think, they simply want relief – immediately.”
“So, in spite of the fact that nothing you can buy will cure your cold, a huge number of us have succumbed to the hit-it-hard-and-hit-it fast remedies such as the Lemsip ‘Max’ range, which predominate on the pharmacist’s shelves and promise that you can happily continue to work long hours and enjoy a full social life, even if your body is telling you to slow down.”
The article takes Lemsip Max as an example, and lists its ingredients with descriptions and side effects. You can find the full article here.
Medical and scientific studies have shown that the best cure for the flu is rest, warmth and lots of liquids. But with our busy lifestyles, we seldom have the luxury of taking more than a day or two off work to cure a cold. So we rely on over-the-counter remedies that only offer temporary relief.
The scary thing here is not that these drugs don’t actually cure you, but that in the long run, it may be harmful to your health. Perhaps that’s why my cough is so bad. Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) believes that if a cough is suppressed or not treated correctly, it will remain in your body and may eventually develop into something worse.
"According to TCM understanding, many conditions can have their origin in an untreated cough: asthma, diabetes, and even cancer." [Ref: article about Cough and TCM]
So now, I’m desperately waiting for an alternative cough remedy to arrive from Malaysia. My Mom has mailed me a packet of tong sum (Codonopsis root) to be cooked based on a recipe of tong sum, ginger and lean beef, stewed for half a day as a herbal broth to cure bronchitis. Let’s hope this works, cos I’d really rather not see a doctor (especially since they don’t have that “power” black cough syrup here cos most drugs here are alcohol-free).
Friday, October 26, 2007
Tai-Kor-Tai-Tor
My husband was recently promoted at work, and although he's carrying out all the duties and responsibilities of his new position, the promotion will officially take effect only in December. As head of a new restaurant, he had to oversee countless photography sessions for the press/media the past few weeks, as the company's PR department is busy publicising the restaurant's opening. These were mainly food shots, or photos of models pretending to dine at the venue. The PR department also arranged for a photographer to take a professional shot of Ben in the event that his photo is required for any press releases or articles.
Of course we all know, big title = big jobscope + big responsibilities + big headache. So Ben no longer works on a shift basis but for as many hours as needed, going in to work as early as 7am and leaving as late as past midnight. Most days he works from 8am - 11pm.
What to do... now Tai Lo already. And to prove this, he's Tai-Kor-Tai-Tor with FOUR handphones! One's his own, one is for the restaurant, and the other two are 'em walkie-talkie-type of com-phones. All hail Mighty Ben-yah-meen... Lord of the Ring-Ring.
Of course we all know, big title = big jobscope + big responsibilities + big headache. So Ben no longer works on a shift basis but for as many hours as needed, going in to work as early as 7am and leaving as late as past midnight. Most days he works from 8am - 11pm.
What to do... now Tai Lo already. And to prove this, he's Tai-Kor-Tai-Tor with FOUR handphones! One's his own, one is for the restaurant, and the other two are 'em walkie-talkie-type of com-phones. All hail Mighty Ben-yah-meen... Lord of the Ring-Ring.
The Ultimate Lepak Experience
Hi, our names are Benjamin and Bernadette, and we're couch potatoes.
Ben works about 14-16 hours a day, with just 4-6 days off in a month. So when he gets home at night or on his days off, it's extremely important that he feels as relaxed as possible to unwind and take his mind off work. Lucky for him, he met a lazy bum like me, so we're like two peas in a pod... two "ubi berisi" on a sofa.
There are women from China who sneak about the apartment blocks selling DVDs. And then there's Shams. No-Holds-Barred-Bo-Kia-Si Shams, who lugs around two huge bags of pirated DVDs openly. Shams is the man, man. He sells DVDs with 16-in-1 movies for just AED20. 16-in-1!! Super-power-terrama!!
For my birthday, Ben bought me a spanking new iPod since I drowned my Nano in the washing machine. This new baby holds 30gigs and plays videos too. That much disk space meant lots and lots of downloads.... So I went crazy and downloaded almost every single song I've known since the 70s... Plus movies, entire seasons of sitcoms....
One series that Ben n I are hooked on is Grey's Anatomy. He enjoys it so much that he wanted "scrubs" of his own too. So when I was in Singapore in June, I bought some cheap cotton from Spotlight and sewed us both a set of our very own "scrubs". It's especially comfy for lounging around in when we're semi-comatose on the sofa.
But the couch was too small for two big potatoes like us. Not that we're too fat to fit on the couch, but we wanted The Ultimate Lepak Lounge. We considered moving the TV into the bedroom, or the bed into the living room but the logistics weren't right for that almost-brilliant plan.
So Ben made his birthday wish... "I want a sofa bed! We'll go to IKEA on my birthday to get it".
We couldn't find a set that we liked cos sofa beds are either really bulky, or really "leceh" cos u have to take it apart and put it back all the time. We asked the salesperson if we could have two chaise lounge sets joined as one... like an extended two-seater sofa, or a bed with armrests. Trust the imbecile to say "yes yes of course no problem" and then screw up.
The chaise lounge sets were delivered a week later, but it didn't come with armrests and couldn't be joined together. So it's like we bought two deck-chairs or mini-beds. Apparently the armrests have to be ordered separately, or only come with the couch! Anyway, we still love it cos it's damn comfy, man.
"Budaya lepak" has arrived and evolved. Malaysia boleh? Dubai lagi boleh!
Ben works about 14-16 hours a day, with just 4-6 days off in a month. So when he gets home at night or on his days off, it's extremely important that he feels as relaxed as possible to unwind and take his mind off work. Lucky for him, he met a lazy bum like me, so we're like two peas in a pod... two "ubi berisi" on a sofa.
There are women from China who sneak about the apartment blocks selling DVDs. And then there's Shams. No-Holds-Barred-Bo-Kia-Si Shams, who lugs around two huge bags of pirated DVDs openly. Shams is the man, man. He sells DVDs with 16-in-1 movies for just AED20. 16-in-1!! Super-power-terrama!!
For my birthday, Ben bought me a spanking new iPod since I drowned my Nano in the washing machine. This new baby holds 30gigs and plays videos too. That much disk space meant lots and lots of downloads.... So I went crazy and downloaded almost every single song I've known since the 70s... Plus movies, entire seasons of sitcoms....
One series that Ben n I are hooked on is Grey's Anatomy. He enjoys it so much that he wanted "scrubs" of his own too. So when I was in Singapore in June, I bought some cheap cotton from Spotlight and sewed us both a set of our very own "scrubs". It's especially comfy for lounging around in when we're semi-comatose on the sofa.
But the couch was too small for two big potatoes like us. Not that we're too fat to fit on the couch, but we wanted The Ultimate Lepak Lounge. We considered moving the TV into the bedroom, or the bed into the living room but the logistics weren't right for that almost-brilliant plan.
So Ben made his birthday wish... "I want a sofa bed! We'll go to IKEA on my birthday to get it".
We couldn't find a set that we liked cos sofa beds are either really bulky, or really "leceh" cos u have to take it apart and put it back all the time. We asked the salesperson if we could have two chaise lounge sets joined as one... like an extended two-seater sofa, or a bed with armrests. Trust the imbecile to say "yes yes of course no problem" and then screw up.
The chaise lounge sets were delivered a week later, but it didn't come with armrests and couldn't be joined together. So it's like we bought two deck-chairs or mini-beds. Apparently the armrests have to be ordered separately, or only come with the couch! Anyway, we still love it cos it's damn comfy, man.
"Budaya lepak" has arrived and evolved. Malaysia boleh? Dubai lagi boleh!
Thursday, September 06, 2007
Can we be friends?
For my short stay in Singapore, I managed to squeeze in a few trips to the library. Man... I miss Singapore libraries n access to so many good books! I miss being able to lug home a huge stack of books that I'd never be able to get my hands on if I had to actually buy them!
One evening when I was at the library in Bedok, I was looking for a particular book about Natural History in the Youth section of the library when a young boy approached me. He looked about 14, and asked me for the time. Not realising that he actually had a handphone with him, I gave him the time, and continued browsing. He didn't leave, and stood there next to me, touching himself nervously. I don't mean "touching" himself like you know where, but his hands were nervously wiping his brow, neck, chest... Y'know...
So then he says to me, You boleh cakap Melayu? and I was like, Ya. Pleased, he continues, You dari Indonesia? and I say, No, Singapore. So he says, Saya juga orang Singapore. From the way his eyes dart about as he twitches nervously, I can tell he's a bit "off" up there lah. But get this. As I inch my way away from him, he approaches slowly and asks, "Can we be friends?"
It was SO WEIRD! Most people mistake me for a teacher 'cos apparently I look like one, what with my striking nerdus maximus looks n mak nenek character. I knew this boy was a bit mental, but I was so embarrassed I just replied, SAYA SUDAH KAHWIN LAH! SUDAH TUA! And then he was lagi embarrassed n backed off immediately, saying Sorry ya, Sorry ya as he disappeared behind the bookshelves, tail n goodness knows what between his legs.
Sometimes it's amusing when I get carded for certain reasons n it's a compliment that some people still think I look 17. But to be asked by a 14-year old boy if I wanted to be his friend? That's some scary shit man!
But if I was still 14... Is that how kids make friends these days? Is that how WE made friends back in those days? Well, my Mom used to think I went to the library as a teen to look at boys! I studied in an all-girls school by the way. But NO! I wasn't that despo. (And anyway, I had Sunday School to keep me entertained!) Some girls would wait all year for "inter-school" events just to check out the boys (or girls) from neighbouring schools. I remember if your classroom faced the school field, your teacher would have a rough time getting the girls to pay attention when there were 20 LaSalle prefects running around in their PE shorts.
Making friends, back then, and now, hasn't changed that much I guess. Back then, in primary school, we'd get friends to "sign" our autograph books. We'd write poems n phrases in these books, like "Trees are silver---Leaves are gold---Remember me---When you are old" or some corny shit like that. Now you've got these "autograph books" online, with friends leaving you messages n wishes in your Guestbook, or sending you virtual gifts n such.
Some of us wonder how real or genuine friendships are in the virtual world, like on Friendster, Facebook, Multiply, and other online "social networking" (i.o.w. dating) sites.
I lost touch with many of my friends from school, and have recently reunited with many of them online. But I got to asking, why we lost touch in the first place if we really were friends. Some of them are girls I've known since I was seven! Classmates from Standard 1 right up to Std 6, we practically grew up together, playing games like Ibu Ayam & Helang, and that darn rubberband skipping game that I never could master. We celebrated birthdays, report card days, Hari Sukan...
We went off to the same secondary school, but were divided into different classes, made new friends. These new friends soon went off to different classes too, as we were later divided into Arts and Science streams. So we made more new friends, somewhat leaving the old ones behind. I guess it was a quiet understanding, like, you go your way, I go my way... but yea, I'll remember you when I'm old.
And of course back then, we didn't have emails and online albums n kawan-ster stuff. If I was still in Malaysia, perhaps I may not have even bothered looking up old friends online. We take for granted what's right in front of us, and search for love, friendship and some form of gratification in a world made up of bits, bytes n pixels. Perhaps with careers, studies, spouses, kids, and what nots to juggle, there simply isn't enough time and space for every single friend you've made since kindergarten. Everything and everyone is just whizzing by at the speed of light. So we're only able to appreciate how "roses are red and violets are blue" when we're seated calmly in front of a computer.
I guess the hard truth is, things in the real world have become so superficial that virtual reality becomes What's Real to most of us. So whether it's online, at the library, on the MRT, at the mamak... I guess we can make friends anywhere. It's not really the "where", "when" or "how" that matters, but "Why".
One evening when I was at the library in Bedok, I was looking for a particular book about Natural History in the Youth section of the library when a young boy approached me. He looked about 14, and asked me for the time. Not realising that he actually had a handphone with him, I gave him the time, and continued browsing. He didn't leave, and stood there next to me, touching himself nervously. I don't mean "touching" himself like you know where, but his hands were nervously wiping his brow, neck, chest... Y'know...
So then he says to me, You boleh cakap Melayu? and I was like, Ya. Pleased, he continues, You dari Indonesia? and I say, No, Singapore. So he says, Saya juga orang Singapore. From the way his eyes dart about as he twitches nervously, I can tell he's a bit "off" up there lah. But get this. As I inch my way away from him, he approaches slowly and asks, "Can we be friends?"
It was SO WEIRD! Most people mistake me for a teacher 'cos apparently I look like one, what with my striking nerdus maximus looks n mak nenek character. I knew this boy was a bit mental, but I was so embarrassed I just replied, SAYA SUDAH KAHWIN LAH! SUDAH TUA! And then he was lagi embarrassed n backed off immediately, saying Sorry ya, Sorry ya as he disappeared behind the bookshelves, tail n goodness knows what between his legs.
Sometimes it's amusing when I get carded for certain reasons n it's a compliment that some people still think I look 17. But to be asked by a 14-year old boy if I wanted to be his friend? That's some scary shit man!
But if I was still 14... Is that how kids make friends these days? Is that how WE made friends back in those days? Well, my Mom used to think I went to the library as a teen to look at boys! I studied in an all-girls school by the way. But NO! I wasn't that despo. (And anyway, I had Sunday School to keep me entertained!) Some girls would wait all year for "inter-school" events just to check out the boys (or girls) from neighbouring schools. I remember if your classroom faced the school field, your teacher would have a rough time getting the girls to pay attention when there were 20 LaSalle prefects running around in their PE shorts.
Making friends, back then, and now, hasn't changed that much I guess. Back then, in primary school, we'd get friends to "sign" our autograph books. We'd write poems n phrases in these books, like "Trees are silver---Leaves are gold---Remember me---When you are old" or some corny shit like that. Now you've got these "autograph books" online, with friends leaving you messages n wishes in your Guestbook, or sending you virtual gifts n such.
Some of us wonder how real or genuine friendships are in the virtual world, like on Friendster, Facebook, Multiply, and other online "social networking" (i.o.w. dating) sites.
I lost touch with many of my friends from school, and have recently reunited with many of them online. But I got to asking, why we lost touch in the first place if we really were friends. Some of them are girls I've known since I was seven! Classmates from Standard 1 right up to Std 6, we practically grew up together, playing games like Ibu Ayam & Helang, and that darn rubberband skipping game that I never could master. We celebrated birthdays, report card days, Hari Sukan...
We went off to the same secondary school, but were divided into different classes, made new friends. These new friends soon went off to different classes too, as we were later divided into Arts and Science streams. So we made more new friends, somewhat leaving the old ones behind. I guess it was a quiet understanding, like, you go your way, I go my way... but yea, I'll remember you when I'm old.
And of course back then, we didn't have emails and online albums n kawan-ster stuff. If I was still in Malaysia, perhaps I may not have even bothered looking up old friends online. We take for granted what's right in front of us, and search for love, friendship and some form of gratification in a world made up of bits, bytes n pixels. Perhaps with careers, studies, spouses, kids, and what nots to juggle, there simply isn't enough time and space for every single friend you've made since kindergarten. Everything and everyone is just whizzing by at the speed of light. So we're only able to appreciate how "roses are red and violets are blue" when we're seated calmly in front of a computer.
I guess the hard truth is, things in the real world have become so superficial that virtual reality becomes What's Real to most of us. So whether it's online, at the library, on the MRT, at the mamak... I guess we can make friends anywhere. It's not really the "where", "when" or "how" that matters, but "Why".
Saturday, September 01, 2007
Tour of Non-Duty
Planned to write something about my trip home after returning to Dubai but procrastinated till now. Well, better late than never. Before leaving for Singapore/PJ in June, I wrote a post about my "Dubai blues". Well, I made my month-long trip back, recovered, and am back in Dubai, good as new.
The first significant thing I did when back in Singapore was my trip out to the intertidal zone in Changi with Wildfilms, the second day I was home. Great way to start off my getaway. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't "getting away" from my husband. Just Dubai itself - its intolerable service standards, etc etc... the list just grows n grows.
Lots of new sights greeted me in Singapore, like the horrid "Wheel" that's almost done, the new Ikea, Giant and Courts in Tampines, Sheng Siong in Bedok, and VivoCity.
I spent about 10 days in PJ and 20 days in Singapore. My time in PJ was quality time with family and buddies. I think I've had enough Nescafe Ais to last me the rest of the year, as I was out at the mamak with Nat on most nights, sometimes joined by Sher Hui and Wye Li. Also managed to spend an afternoon in Bangsar with Jamie.
Sometimes I feel like a celebrity back home as my many "Ah Ee"s take turns to "chope" me for lunch appointments and such. It felt really nice, and of course, anything to do with makan is great!
Back in Singapore, I joined Wildfilms on a few more trips during low tide to the shore and a few islands. These were really splendid too - being close to nature again, and my conversations with like-minded individuals like Ria and Chay Hoon.
Earlier Wildfilms footage were shot on tape, so there are a few hundred tapes that need to be digitised, and a lepak "tai-tai" like me always comes in handy for nitty-gritty jobs like these. So I lugged back "Ziggy" (our pet name for one of the small handicams), 500gigs of hard disk, and four boxes of tapes to be converted into digital format. This should keep me happily busy till 2008 too!
I've discovered though, that there's a big difference between tai-tai and housewife. A tai-tai has a maid. I am a housewife.
Another eventful "must do" in Singapore was attending Jo and Leong's wedding dinner. I was pretty zonked out that day as I had spent the early morning out on Pulau Hantu, but the wedding dinner was a really refreshing change to the dreary grey of Dubai life.
Typical Chinese/Singaporean style - lots of red and cheery colours, as pictured here. When I'm really tired, my hands get really shaky, so I didn't take any pictures but have compiled a few here, taken by Mei Ling and the wedding photographer.
I was seated with Louis, Rabind and Wayne, and some intimidating-looking guys I've never met before. Felt pretty lost especially since I was half-awake and attending this as "Ben's wife". Introductions to people were like this, Hey, you know Ben? --- Fatty Ben? or Ben the Chef? --- Yea, this is his wife, Mrs Fatty Ben.
I must say, even though this was like, what... only the second time I've met Leong, and one might ask who I am to comment, I think he looked really, really happy. I hardly got to see or speak to Jo 'cos typical in all Chinese wedding dinners, the bride always kena change baju like a Hong Kong superstar at a concert. It was a beautiful wedding, and I'm sure, the happiest day of their lives.
One thing I sure didn't miss when back in Singapore... no, two things:
1. Being made to feel fat just cos I wasn't like all 'em skinny-ass skanks around.
2. Being told that I speak "very good English for a Malaysian".
I mean, what's up with people presuming that Malaysians can't speak English. If you sat in a foodcourt in Singapore, no, not even food court... If you were seated in a nice restaurant in Singapore, you'd notice that all the chatter around you is in Mandarin. Many Singaporeans think they speak "good" English just 'cos they begin each sentence with words like "Basically..." and try to sound eloquent by saying things like "forget a-bow-rit" and "am I right or am I right?"
First of all, there's no such thing as "good English". Learn to speak proper English, get your grammar, Ps n Qs right, before you go 'round questioning another's language proficiency based on nationality.
It's bloody annoying and such an insult when people ask, You're Malaysian? Are you sure? You speak such good English, I thought you're Singaporean. You studied in Singapore or overseas is it?
I'm Malaysian, I studied in Malaysia, I don't hold a degree, and I speak proper English. Lots of Malaysians do. Wake up....
Ok, back to happy stuff. What felt really good about my trip home was the amount of "me-time" I had. Ya, I know I don't work in Dubai so I have full access to "me-time" here too. But when I was in Singapore and PJ, I was a housewife on holiday!
No need to cook! No need to jaga the big baby! No need to worry about groceries. Hungry? Just walk out to the nearby kopitiam and be spoilt for choice. I didn't even have to make my own coffee. Just 80 cents gets me a nice cup of kopi pua sio. So shiok!
I met up with friends, mother-in-law, father-in-law. Mizan works at the i-Shop in Cineleisure, so he was one of the first few people I met and he even gave me a discount on the adapter for my Powerbook. I had a late lunch and coffee with Razmi just before he went off for National Service, and konlomee with Raena and Shorbs! Dinner with Ben's friends, as well as with my ex-colleagues from Crystal Wines.
I also met up with Peng a few times for kopi or makan. I told him I planned to ta-pau half a roast duck to bring back to Dubai for Ben, and he went ahead and bought it for me. Peng also introduced me to the latest drink fad, those awful cans of "Anything" or "Whatever"! And I finally met Brownie, his chow chow puppy!
All in all, it was a marvelous trip, and it was even nicer knowing that the end of the trip would signal my return home to Ben, so leaving didn't feel so bad. The housewife, refreshed and rejuvenated, is back on duty.
The first significant thing I did when back in Singapore was my trip out to the intertidal zone in Changi with Wildfilms, the second day I was home. Great way to start off my getaway. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't "getting away" from my husband. Just Dubai itself - its intolerable service standards, etc etc... the list just grows n grows.
Lots of new sights greeted me in Singapore, like the horrid "Wheel" that's almost done, the new Ikea, Giant and Courts in Tampines, Sheng Siong in Bedok, and VivoCity.
I spent about 10 days in PJ and 20 days in Singapore. My time in PJ was quality time with family and buddies. I think I've had enough Nescafe Ais to last me the rest of the year, as I was out at the mamak with Nat on most nights, sometimes joined by Sher Hui and Wye Li. Also managed to spend an afternoon in Bangsar with Jamie.
Sometimes I feel like a celebrity back home as my many "Ah Ee"s take turns to "chope" me for lunch appointments and such. It felt really nice, and of course, anything to do with makan is great!
Back in Singapore, I joined Wildfilms on a few more trips during low tide to the shore and a few islands. These were really splendid too - being close to nature again, and my conversations with like-minded individuals like Ria and Chay Hoon.
Earlier Wildfilms footage were shot on tape, so there are a few hundred tapes that need to be digitised, and a lepak "tai-tai" like me always comes in handy for nitty-gritty jobs like these. So I lugged back "Ziggy" (our pet name for one of the small handicams), 500gigs of hard disk, and four boxes of tapes to be converted into digital format. This should keep me happily busy till 2008 too!
I've discovered though, that there's a big difference between tai-tai and housewife. A tai-tai has a maid. I am a housewife.
Another eventful "must do" in Singapore was attending Jo and Leong's wedding dinner. I was pretty zonked out that day as I had spent the early morning out on Pulau Hantu, but the wedding dinner was a really refreshing change to the dreary grey of Dubai life.
Typical Chinese/Singaporean style - lots of red and cheery colours, as pictured here. When I'm really tired, my hands get really shaky, so I didn't take any pictures but have compiled a few here, taken by Mei Ling and the wedding photographer.
I was seated with Louis, Rabind and Wayne, and some intimidating-looking guys I've never met before. Felt pretty lost especially since I was half-awake and attending this as "Ben's wife". Introductions to people were like this, Hey, you know Ben? --- Fatty Ben? or Ben the Chef? --- Yea, this is his wife, Mrs Fatty Ben.
I must say, even though this was like, what... only the second time I've met Leong, and one might ask who I am to comment, I think he looked really, really happy. I hardly got to see or speak to Jo 'cos typical in all Chinese wedding dinners, the bride always kena change baju like a Hong Kong superstar at a concert. It was a beautiful wedding, and I'm sure, the happiest day of their lives.
One thing I sure didn't miss when back in Singapore... no, two things:
1. Being made to feel fat just cos I wasn't like all 'em skinny-ass skanks around.
2. Being told that I speak "very good English for a Malaysian".
I mean, what's up with people presuming that Malaysians can't speak English. If you sat in a foodcourt in Singapore, no, not even food court... If you were seated in a nice restaurant in Singapore, you'd notice that all the chatter around you is in Mandarin. Many Singaporeans think they speak "good" English just 'cos they begin each sentence with words like "Basically..." and try to sound eloquent by saying things like "forget a-bow-rit" and "am I right or am I right?"
First of all, there's no such thing as "good English". Learn to speak proper English, get your grammar, Ps n Qs right, before you go 'round questioning another's language proficiency based on nationality.
It's bloody annoying and such an insult when people ask, You're Malaysian? Are you sure? You speak such good English, I thought you're Singaporean. You studied in Singapore or overseas is it?
I'm Malaysian, I studied in Malaysia, I don't hold a degree, and I speak proper English. Lots of Malaysians do. Wake up....
Ok, back to happy stuff. What felt really good about my trip home was the amount of "me-time" I had. Ya, I know I don't work in Dubai so I have full access to "me-time" here too. But when I was in Singapore and PJ, I was a housewife on holiday!
No need to cook! No need to jaga the big baby! No need to worry about groceries. Hungry? Just walk out to the nearby kopitiam and be spoilt for choice. I didn't even have to make my own coffee. Just 80 cents gets me a nice cup of kopi pua sio. So shiok!
I met up with friends, mother-in-law, father-in-law. Mizan works at the i-Shop in Cineleisure, so he was one of the first few people I met and he even gave me a discount on the adapter for my Powerbook. I had a late lunch and coffee with Razmi just before he went off for National Service, and konlomee with Raena and Shorbs! Dinner with Ben's friends, as well as with my ex-colleagues from Crystal Wines.
I also met up with Peng a few times for kopi or makan. I told him I planned to ta-pau half a roast duck to bring back to Dubai for Ben, and he went ahead and bought it for me. Peng also introduced me to the latest drink fad, those awful cans of "Anything" or "Whatever"! And I finally met Brownie, his chow chow puppy!
All in all, it was a marvelous trip, and it was even nicer knowing that the end of the trip would signal my return home to Ben, so leaving didn't feel so bad. The housewife, refreshed and rejuvenated, is back on duty.
Monday, August 27, 2007
The red n white pack
Dubai n Singapore aren’t all that different, or perhaps very different, being that each have “qualities” unique to them. Ben n I have come up with a collection of images n things that we find “Uniquely Dubai”. I shan’t list them down here but just highlight a couple.
On my flight from SIN to DXB in July, the lack of video-on-demand got me flipping thru the in-flight magazine n duty free catalogue. When I was on the Duty Free allowances page, two countries stood out from the rest in the cigarettes category. Singapore is the only country that does not allow duty free cigarettes, with NIL boldly stated and a note mentioning a hefty fine plus probably other scary words like PROHIBITED.
While other countries allow 200-400 sticks, the UAE, as one-of-a-kind as Singapore, allows 10,000 sticks. Yes, TEN THOUSAND! No typical UAE typo error here. The odd thing is, following in Singapore’s footsteps, Dubai is trying to be a “smoke-free” city by 2008.
Apart from the ability for each passenger to bring in 50 cartons of Marlboro, Dubai displayed a different show of red n white recently. The 2nd NDC @ UAE was held last Friday at the Movenpick Hotel - the Singapore National Day Celebration in the UAE, organised by a dedicated group of Singaporeans, with support from the Consulate-General of the Republic of Singapore, IE Singapore, STB n many other sponsors.
Ok, time for a bit of flashback and intro to people.
I was informed of this event last month by Mabel n Chi Lin, whom I was introduced to by my friend Merey from Singapore. I met Merey when I was working at SRC some years ago n she was the Sports Manager there. We didn’t know each other that well n I think she tried to avoid me at most times ‘cos each time I bumped into her, I’d be reminding her of deadlines n chasing her for articles n photos for the Club’s newsletter. We lost touch after she left SRC n met again a few years later when I joined BWV. A few of us in the Reefwalk group organised a trip to Kota Tinggi, including Merey, her husband Eng Wan n son Reef.
Eng Wan was working in Doha last year, so on one of her visits to Doha, Merey stopped by for a short stay in Dubai with her friends Mabel n Chi Lin. Chi Lin, who works for IE Singapore, was posted to Dubai this year n Mabel joined him here in June. So that’s how I know Mabel n Chi Lin, and came to know about the NDC.
Ben n I invited Andrew n Arman along but unfortunately, they couldn’t make it since it was being held on a Friday, busy day for people in the F&B line. Andrew’s our chef friend from Singapore whom Ben n I knew from our days at Gourmet Cellar. He’s the Japanese chef at a Japengo outlet here.
Arman’s the Chef at a Noodle House outlet here. I met him when he first arrived in Dubai last December, back when we were living in Ewan Residences in ulu-land. We took the same shuttle bus to the nearby shops and he asked me for directions and found out that I was Malaysian/Singaporean n I discovered that Andrew was his smoking kaki since both their restaurants are located in the Madinat Jumeirah.
Ben invited Jac along, a HR Management Trainee at the Burj Al Arab. She’s the only other Singaporean working there.
Ben was excited about this event especially since I told him they’d be showing snippets from the National Day Parade. I remember how homesick he was last year, his first National Day away from home. So when I was back in Singapore in June/July, I searched the whole country for the Singapore flag to bring back to Dubai. EconMinimart, NTUC, Giant, Carrefour, souvenir shops, Community Centres… (flashback again).
Whether it's in town or the suburbs, none of the shops are selling the flag. The only red n white I see is the latest lian-trend - mini white shorts n ugly red patent PVC stilletos or wedges. It's my last day in Singapore, and still no flag.
I start calling all the Community Centres in the East side, and finally one in Tampines says, Yes, we have the flag! Two dollars only. So I rush over, and when I ask the lady at the counter about the flag, she says, There, this one! and points at a mini-flag that drivers clip to their car’s radio aerial.
No, aunty, I want the big flag, the one to hang on balcony one. Aiya, that one don’t have yet. Still early, RC haven’t sent to us. A second aunty joins in the conversation n I explain that I live in Dubai n will be leaving Singapore in a few hours n my patriotic husband gets homesick during National Day, etc.
Both aunties look so sympathetic n start calling the various RCs, CCs, GRCs, and what nots for me. Sorry, girl. Don’t have leh. You try NTUC or not? Ya, also don’t have. Ayo… sorry lah.
Dejected, I leave the CC and walk about, stopping at any household n convenience store I pass. I walk till I reach “Afghanistan” and stop at a household supplies shop there. Aunty, got Singapore flag or not? The big one for balcony. You wait ah, I check.
She goes to the back of her shop that sells everything, from melamine kitchenware to fishing nets, PVC pipes to gas stoves. Aunty is gone for a really long time, and finally, she emerges from the chaos of hanging pots, pans n bubble-wrap with the Singapore flag! Ah, girl, si-kor-pwa.
So this $4.50 piece of red and white polyester follows me all the way back to the UAE, and on 8th August, is hung proudly in our hall. I didn’t dare hang it on the balcony ‘cos people here can be quite ignorant n mistake it for a communist banner.
So back to the National Day celebration here. Tickets were sold at only 42 Dirhams (Singaporeans will know why 42), which was really, really cheap ‘cos a KFC meal for two here already costs at least 45 Dirhams. The dresscode for this event was smart-casual but I was told quite a lot of people would come dressed to the nines, gowns, gloves n all.
The ballroom n foyer is already bustling with guests when we arrive at 6.15pm – very early by Singapore standards since the time stated was 6pm, meaning most people would arrive at around 7.30 - 8.00, especially if it was a Singaporean wedding dinner.
Ben, Jac n I stand by the side, feeling awkwardly out of place. Jac comments that everyone here is “so old” and this looks like a function that her dad would attend. So like typical Singaporeans, we stand there commenting on what people are wearing, saying, doing, and I’m pretty sure some of them were doing the same too.
We probably stick out like sore thumbs as a man named Adrian approaches us to break the ice. He informs us that they are expecting at least 500 pax this evening. We can tell he’s with the organising committee from the huge orchid pinned on his lapel.
Only an exclusive few in the crowd don the national flower, including a lady who looks like she could be a descendant of Miss Joaquim herself, in her shiny lilac kebaya.
With Asia Pacific Breweries being one of the sponsors, uncles feel right at home with the free-flow of Tiger beer. Only thing missing is ice cubes, the Tiger aunty or ah huay, and live screening of a match.
Soon, guests are ushered into the ballroom to await the arrival of the Consular-General, Mr Dileep Nair. Adrian, also emcee for the night, leads us in a few cheers. Yup, the crowd is asked to shout “Hallo, Singapore!” and “Happy Birthday, Singapore”. One uncle seems to have had one Tiger too many as he bellows, “Hallo, Sing-GABURRRP-pore!”
Just when I feel my goosebumps are gonna burst out from my skin, we are invited to sing Happy Birthday to Singapore as a huge cake resembling the flag is wheeled out. We also recite the Singapore pledge and sing the national anthem. I’m tempted to shout “Malaysia Boleh!!” at the end of the Majulah Singapura, just to see if I’d get thrown out :p
Finally, it’s time to eat! We’re hoping to get good ol’ Singapore food, but the only thing resembling dishes from home are the names of some of the dishes – rendang, gado-gado, goreng pisang, Hainanese chicken rice, assam fish… But all cannot make it lah. Ben and Jac join the extremely long queue of suckers for the chicken rice, only to find that it’s plain white rice with chicken that looks like it’s been boiled.
I meet Mabel n Chi Lin, and we’re introduced to a few of their friends. We also meet Eng Wan, who moved to Dubai just last month, and chat with him for a while.
The highlight for the night, for Ben, is the 2007 NDP screening. Unfortunately, they only screen the first 15 minutes as the screens are used to display winning lucky draw numbers the rest of the night. Jac hopes to win the Creative mp3 player while Ben n I eye the LCD flatscreen TV.
Unfortunately, we leave only with small goodie bags. One has a Tiger beermug, and the other bag doesn’t but has a soft-toy of a red crab, the Singapore Chilli Crab. And the other “goodies” are brochures, an SIA paperbag n cheapo-made-in-China keychain n calculator.
Of course, it’s typically Singaporean to complain that this n that cannot make it lah, blah blah. As much as we poke fun at events like these or the people who attend them, I always say I’m almost-Singaporean because of how much I’ve assimilated into the culture n lifestyle there. I remember how I got all teary-eyed when I watched my first NDP on TV. The crowd, a sea of red n white, waving their little red n white flags about, and singing proudly in unison as the big red n white flies past overhead.
I know some people say the NDP is the biggest PR event in Singapore, propaganda at its finest. I say, who cares, it works. The sense of unity, pride and passion, expressed through the reaction of the spectators is brilliant. And I still get a little teary-eyed now when I watch the NDP flypast n fireworks each year.
So yesterday Ben n I had to settle for watching the 2007 NDP webcast on a tiny 480x360 pixel window online. Although lacking authentic Singapore food and the full screening of the NDP, the NDC @ UAE event was still enjoyable. Ben n I got to see the macam-macam of the Singaporean community in Dubai - a couple of bengs and lians here n there, typical aunties and uncles, SPG also got!
And of course, those who believe their sense of fashion isn’t just restricted to Orchard Road.
Happy Belated National Day to all Singaporeans, and Happy Merdeka to the rest!
On my flight from SIN to DXB in July, the lack of video-on-demand got me flipping thru the in-flight magazine n duty free catalogue. When I was on the Duty Free allowances page, two countries stood out from the rest in the cigarettes category. Singapore is the only country that does not allow duty free cigarettes, with NIL boldly stated and a note mentioning a hefty fine plus probably other scary words like PROHIBITED.
While other countries allow 200-400 sticks, the UAE, as one-of-a-kind as Singapore, allows 10,000 sticks. Yes, TEN THOUSAND! No typical UAE typo error here. The odd thing is, following in Singapore’s footsteps, Dubai is trying to be a “smoke-free” city by 2008.
Apart from the ability for each passenger to bring in 50 cartons of Marlboro, Dubai displayed a different show of red n white recently. The 2nd NDC @ UAE was held last Friday at the Movenpick Hotel - the Singapore National Day Celebration in the UAE, organised by a dedicated group of Singaporeans, with support from the Consulate-General of the Republic of Singapore, IE Singapore, STB n many other sponsors.
Ok, time for a bit of flashback and intro to people.
I was informed of this event last month by Mabel n Chi Lin, whom I was introduced to by my friend Merey from Singapore. I met Merey when I was working at SRC some years ago n she was the Sports Manager there. We didn’t know each other that well n I think she tried to avoid me at most times ‘cos each time I bumped into her, I’d be reminding her of deadlines n chasing her for articles n photos for the Club’s newsletter. We lost touch after she left SRC n met again a few years later when I joined BWV. A few of us in the Reefwalk group organised a trip to Kota Tinggi, including Merey, her husband Eng Wan n son Reef.
Eng Wan was working in Doha last year, so on one of her visits to Doha, Merey stopped by for a short stay in Dubai with her friends Mabel n Chi Lin. Chi Lin, who works for IE Singapore, was posted to Dubai this year n Mabel joined him here in June. So that’s how I know Mabel n Chi Lin, and came to know about the NDC.
Ben n I invited Andrew n Arman along but unfortunately, they couldn’t make it since it was being held on a Friday, busy day for people in the F&B line. Andrew’s our chef friend from Singapore whom Ben n I knew from our days at Gourmet Cellar. He’s the Japanese chef at a Japengo outlet here.
Arman’s the Chef at a Noodle House outlet here. I met him when he first arrived in Dubai last December, back when we were living in Ewan Residences in ulu-land. We took the same shuttle bus to the nearby shops and he asked me for directions and found out that I was Malaysian/Singaporean n I discovered that Andrew was his smoking kaki since both their restaurants are located in the Madinat Jumeirah.
Ben invited Jac along, a HR Management Trainee at the Burj Al Arab. She’s the only other Singaporean working there.
Ben was excited about this event especially since I told him they’d be showing snippets from the National Day Parade. I remember how homesick he was last year, his first National Day away from home. So when I was back in Singapore in June/July, I searched the whole country for the Singapore flag to bring back to Dubai. EconMinimart, NTUC, Giant, Carrefour, souvenir shops, Community Centres… (flashback again).
Whether it's in town or the suburbs, none of the shops are selling the flag. The only red n white I see is the latest lian-trend - mini white shorts n ugly red patent PVC stilletos or wedges. It's my last day in Singapore, and still no flag.
I start calling all the Community Centres in the East side, and finally one in Tampines says, Yes, we have the flag! Two dollars only. So I rush over, and when I ask the lady at the counter about the flag, she says, There, this one! and points at a mini-flag that drivers clip to their car’s radio aerial.
No, aunty, I want the big flag, the one to hang on balcony one. Aiya, that one don’t have yet. Still early, RC haven’t sent to us. A second aunty joins in the conversation n I explain that I live in Dubai n will be leaving Singapore in a few hours n my patriotic husband gets homesick during National Day, etc.
Both aunties look so sympathetic n start calling the various RCs, CCs, GRCs, and what nots for me. Sorry, girl. Don’t have leh. You try NTUC or not? Ya, also don’t have. Ayo… sorry lah.
Dejected, I leave the CC and walk about, stopping at any household n convenience store I pass. I walk till I reach “Afghanistan” and stop at a household supplies shop there. Aunty, got Singapore flag or not? The big one for balcony. You wait ah, I check.
She goes to the back of her shop that sells everything, from melamine kitchenware to fishing nets, PVC pipes to gas stoves. Aunty is gone for a really long time, and finally, she emerges from the chaos of hanging pots, pans n bubble-wrap with the Singapore flag! Ah, girl, si-kor-pwa.
So this $4.50 piece of red and white polyester follows me all the way back to the UAE, and on 8th August, is hung proudly in our hall. I didn’t dare hang it on the balcony ‘cos people here can be quite ignorant n mistake it for a communist banner.
So back to the National Day celebration here. Tickets were sold at only 42 Dirhams (Singaporeans will know why 42), which was really, really cheap ‘cos a KFC meal for two here already costs at least 45 Dirhams. The dresscode for this event was smart-casual but I was told quite a lot of people would come dressed to the nines, gowns, gloves n all.
The ballroom n foyer is already bustling with guests when we arrive at 6.15pm – very early by Singapore standards since the time stated was 6pm, meaning most people would arrive at around 7.30 - 8.00, especially if it was a Singaporean wedding dinner.
Ben, Jac n I stand by the side, feeling awkwardly out of place. Jac comments that everyone here is “so old” and this looks like a function that her dad would attend. So like typical Singaporeans, we stand there commenting on what people are wearing, saying, doing, and I’m pretty sure some of them were doing the same too.
We probably stick out like sore thumbs as a man named Adrian approaches us to break the ice. He informs us that they are expecting at least 500 pax this evening. We can tell he’s with the organising committee from the huge orchid pinned on his lapel.
Only an exclusive few in the crowd don the national flower, including a lady who looks like she could be a descendant of Miss Joaquim herself, in her shiny lilac kebaya.
With Asia Pacific Breweries being one of the sponsors, uncles feel right at home with the free-flow of Tiger beer. Only thing missing is ice cubes, the Tiger aunty or ah huay, and live screening of a match.
Soon, guests are ushered into the ballroom to await the arrival of the Consular-General, Mr Dileep Nair. Adrian, also emcee for the night, leads us in a few cheers. Yup, the crowd is asked to shout “Hallo, Singapore!” and “Happy Birthday, Singapore”. One uncle seems to have had one Tiger too many as he bellows, “Hallo, Sing-GABURRRP-pore!”
Just when I feel my goosebumps are gonna burst out from my skin, we are invited to sing Happy Birthday to Singapore as a huge cake resembling the flag is wheeled out. We also recite the Singapore pledge and sing the national anthem. I’m tempted to shout “Malaysia Boleh!!” at the end of the Majulah Singapura, just to see if I’d get thrown out :p
Finally, it’s time to eat! We’re hoping to get good ol’ Singapore food, but the only thing resembling dishes from home are the names of some of the dishes – rendang, gado-gado, goreng pisang, Hainanese chicken rice, assam fish… But all cannot make it lah. Ben and Jac join the extremely long queue of suckers for the chicken rice, only to find that it’s plain white rice with chicken that looks like it’s been boiled.
I meet Mabel n Chi Lin, and we’re introduced to a few of their friends. We also meet Eng Wan, who moved to Dubai just last month, and chat with him for a while.
The highlight for the night, for Ben, is the 2007 NDP screening. Unfortunately, they only screen the first 15 minutes as the screens are used to display winning lucky draw numbers the rest of the night. Jac hopes to win the Creative mp3 player while Ben n I eye the LCD flatscreen TV.
Unfortunately, we leave only with small goodie bags. One has a Tiger beermug, and the other bag doesn’t but has a soft-toy of a red crab, the Singapore Chilli Crab. And the other “goodies” are brochures, an SIA paperbag n cheapo-made-in-China keychain n calculator.
Of course, it’s typically Singaporean to complain that this n that cannot make it lah, blah blah. As much as we poke fun at events like these or the people who attend them, I always say I’m almost-Singaporean because of how much I’ve assimilated into the culture n lifestyle there. I remember how I got all teary-eyed when I watched my first NDP on TV. The crowd, a sea of red n white, waving their little red n white flags about, and singing proudly in unison as the big red n white flies past overhead.
I know some people say the NDP is the biggest PR event in Singapore, propaganda at its finest. I say, who cares, it works. The sense of unity, pride and passion, expressed through the reaction of the spectators is brilliant. And I still get a little teary-eyed now when I watch the NDP flypast n fireworks each year.
So yesterday Ben n I had to settle for watching the 2007 NDP webcast on a tiny 480x360 pixel window online. Although lacking authentic Singapore food and the full screening of the NDP, the NDC @ UAE event was still enjoyable. Ben n I got to see the macam-macam of the Singaporean community in Dubai - a couple of bengs and lians here n there, typical aunties and uncles, SPG also got!
And of course, those who believe their sense of fashion isn’t just restricted to Orchard Road.
Happy Belated National Day to all Singaporeans, and Happy Merdeka to the rest!
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
While My Guitar Gently Sweeps
I remember as kids, my brothers and I would pretend to be all sorts of people or legends. Armed with some raffia string as rope, and his schoolbag as haversack, Jeremy would take on the role of brave adventurer, dragging us younger ones around the garden on exploratory trails and making feeble attempts at climbing the rambutan tree. Another time, he decided to be a deejay and assigned Andrew and I as back-up chorus while he came up with corny intros and jingles to songs – all recorded on a cassette like an actual demo tape. And of course, which kid never dreamt of being a rock superstar?
All you needed was props or just a wild imagination. We had three choices:
1. air guitar
2. badminton or tennis racket
3. broom
Mine was usually the latter since it’s more likely you’d find me daydreaming while doing household chores, and I was never really the sporty type. Lidi brooms served best cos you could actually strum ‘em lidi sticks.
I’m turning thirty soon, very soon, yet I feel I never really left my crazy, clueless adolescent days behind. Either that or I’m suffering from a very early onset of the mid-age crisis. I wanna be a rock-guitar-legend! The next Ratu Rock. Malaysia’s answer to Avril Lavigne.
I pathetically whined to Ben about how, growing up, I was forced to take piano lessons just cos I was a girl, when it was glaringly evident that I had such bad sense of coordination that I couldn’t even get my fingers to play Chopsticks. My parents should have realised that I wasn’t your typical princess in a pink tutu.
Instead of ballet lessons, I took Taekwondo. Instead of masak-masak, I had to engage in combat and guerrilla tactics with my brothers and the Shori boys, armed with mighty ping pong bats. After eight whole years of torturous piano lessons (not just for me but the teachers), I was still only in Grade 4! My dad finally said these exact words, Getting you to play even one song on the piano is like FLOGGING A DEAD HORSE.
Years went by and my brothers went for guitar lessons. I couldn't cos I had wasted eight good years on an instrument I could never conquer. So now I just play the radio.
I remember how I used to sit in my brothers’ room and listen and watch in envy as Jeremy showed off his guitar skills. He even taught me to strum a few chords, the basic chords for Every Rose Has Its Thorn. But that’s as far as my “guitar-rocker-dreams” went. Then Andrew got an electric guitar. Man! Lagi jealous.
The worst part is, I hardly ever see him pick it up. So it just sits there in the room, all glossy and black and white, next to the amp that collects just as much dust. He’s got guitar tabs of some of the best rock songs all over the place, but I’ve never once heard him really goreng the guitar. Sometimes I’d annoy him and go, Hey Drew, play the intro to Stairway to Heaven lah. . . Just once lah. . . But he wouldn’t budge. Sigh.
Some of the sexiest things I’ve ever heard are from a guitar (No, the guitar doesn’t speak to me… I’m not that corny). I’m not talking about so-called romantic guitar scores like Extreme’s More Than Words or something similar from Firehouse.
I mean REAL sexy. All the strumming, picking, bending, sliding, muting, inversions, distortion… The power goreng bits from Metallica’s One and Fade to Black. U2’s Without or Without You and Mysterious Ways. The intros to The Freshmen, One Last Breath, The Reason. . . Songs like Creep, Glycerine, Come As You Are. . . Lots of stuff from Deep Purple. . .
So as some of you dream of being rich or successful or thin or popular, you’ll find me lost in the clouds playing some of the best guitar riffs ever heard.
On air guitar or broom, of course.
All you needed was props or just a wild imagination. We had three choices:
1. air guitar
2. badminton or tennis racket
3. broom
Mine was usually the latter since it’s more likely you’d find me daydreaming while doing household chores, and I was never really the sporty type. Lidi brooms served best cos you could actually strum ‘em lidi sticks.
I’m turning thirty soon, very soon, yet I feel I never really left my crazy, clueless adolescent days behind. Either that or I’m suffering from a very early onset of the mid-age crisis. I wanna be a rock-guitar-legend! The next Ratu Rock. Malaysia’s answer to Avril Lavigne.
I pathetically whined to Ben about how, growing up, I was forced to take piano lessons just cos I was a girl, when it was glaringly evident that I had such bad sense of coordination that I couldn’t even get my fingers to play Chopsticks. My parents should have realised that I wasn’t your typical princess in a pink tutu.
Instead of ballet lessons, I took Taekwondo. Instead of masak-masak, I had to engage in combat and guerrilla tactics with my brothers and the Shori boys, armed with mighty ping pong bats. After eight whole years of torturous piano lessons (not just for me but the teachers), I was still only in Grade 4! My dad finally said these exact words, Getting you to play even one song on the piano is like FLOGGING A DEAD HORSE.
Years went by and my brothers went for guitar lessons. I couldn't cos I had wasted eight good years on an instrument I could never conquer. So now I just play the radio.
I remember how I used to sit in my brothers’ room and listen and watch in envy as Jeremy showed off his guitar skills. He even taught me to strum a few chords, the basic chords for Every Rose Has Its Thorn. But that’s as far as my “guitar-rocker-dreams” went. Then Andrew got an electric guitar. Man! Lagi jealous.
The worst part is, I hardly ever see him pick it up. So it just sits there in the room, all glossy and black and white, next to the amp that collects just as much dust. He’s got guitar tabs of some of the best rock songs all over the place, but I’ve never once heard him really goreng the guitar. Sometimes I’d annoy him and go, Hey Drew, play the intro to Stairway to Heaven lah. . . Just once lah. . . But he wouldn’t budge. Sigh.
Some of the sexiest things I’ve ever heard are from a guitar (No, the guitar doesn’t speak to me… I’m not that corny). I’m not talking about so-called romantic guitar scores like Extreme’s More Than Words or something similar from Firehouse.
I mean REAL sexy. All the strumming, picking, bending, sliding, muting, inversions, distortion… The power goreng bits from Metallica’s One and Fade to Black. U2’s Without or Without You and Mysterious Ways. The intros to The Freshmen, One Last Breath, The Reason. . . Songs like Creep, Glycerine, Come As You Are. . . Lots of stuff from Deep Purple. . .
So as some of you dream of being rich or successful or thin or popular, you’ll find me lost in the clouds playing some of the best guitar riffs ever heard.
On air guitar or broom, of course.
Monday, July 23, 2007
Like A Fine Wine
My husband Ben loves durian. The last time we were back in Singapore, we ate durian till we felt like puking. I hesitate at first, then, I finally break the news to him.
YOUR UNCLE HAS A DURIAN ESTATE?!! OH, MAN! When can we go? When can we go?
On my recent trip back to PJ, my family made a trip to Port Dickson (PD), Seremban for a "family durian fest". My Mom's sister Gina (I call her "Dee Ee", meaning 2nd Aunt), is married to Uncle Johnny who owns a durian estate in PD. So one Saturday morning, my mom, brothers, sister-in-law, aunts, uncles, cousins and I squeeze into 3 cars, making the 1.5 hour trip to durian paradise.
Before heading to the estate, we visit Dee Ee's home in Pasir Panjang, a quaint little one-street town. There, we have chicken rice at a nearby coffee shop. Uncle Johnny takes care of everything, from Uncle KB's requests for 3 whole chickens for lunch, plus tau yu bak (braised pig's trotter) and two tables specially "reserved" in this small town kopitiam, just for us urbanites.
It's been a long time since I've had REAL homemade barley, like the type I used to get in Malacca. It reminds me of the old Ujong Pasir house where I spent most of my Chinese New Years and birthdays as a kid, cycling around the Portugese settlement, and the cold, refreshing homemade barley from our favourite kon lo mee shop. Of course, those came in plastic cups unlike this whopper here.
Barley, ungge lekke nalade
After lunch, the REAL feast begins!
I'm still trying to get used to the heat and humidity, so durian on a full stomach at high noon is a bit too much for me. Instead, I allow my mind to wander off as everyone eats to their hearts' fill (it's gotta be the heart 'cos how in the world could one's stomach take in anymore after THREE kampung chickens and tau yu bak).
My family makes sure they keep my cousin Paul busy, as he pries open durian after durian. Seriously, I lose count of how many durians he opens. Growing up half his life on the estate, Paul is a pro! Swift and unwavering, and I'm not just referring to the thirteen hungry hands reaching out for fruit.
Now to savour durian perfectly ripe and fresh from the estate takes some skill too. As one hand reaches out for the fruit, you've gotta keep your eyes set on the prize, choosing the juiciest and most golden yellow piece. The other hand has to remain in constant motion, chasing away flies that are trying hard to get a piece of the pie.
Then you've gotta keep a mental picture of where the bin is to throw the seed, keeping your eyes glued to the open fruit, while pretending to chase off a fly hovering over the fruit when in fact you're already "chope"-ing your next piece.
In between all this, sometimes you may find a few free seconds to lick your fingers and wipe the sweat off your brow, while engaging in conversation with others around you --- "Wah, shiok ah" --- "Ayo, so many flies!" --- "Ay Paul! This one man-in-the-net or the other one?"
Man in the net? That's your crème de la crème of the estate. The fruit that is so good that nets are placed all around the base of a particular tree, about 3 feet off the ground, to catch a falling fruit, leaving it... flawless.
Like a fine wine, Uncle Johnny describes the durian varieties and the perfect fruit - its strong bouquet, elegant mouthfeel, lingering aftertaste... And the estate, like any good vineyard, with its terroirs and susceptibility to bad weather or just plain bad luck. Like en primeur wines, some trees are even "booked" by durian purveyors or gourmands based on "vintage" predictions.
Besides helping out around the estate, Paul has occupied himself with harvesting "escargot". He leads us to the cement tanks that used to house "tin kai" - frogs bred for human consumption, like for frog leg porridge. But the frogs are gone, and in its place, hundreds of snails!
He points out the different tanks used for different stages in the snails' growth - those for juvenile snails, those just for breeding, and snails that are almost ready for the pot! Paul sells these escargot to vendors at the market or food vendors who use seafood for zhe cha (stir fry) dishes such as lala (mussels), siham (cockles), sotong kangkung (cuttlefish with morning glory) and ikan bakar (barbecued stingray).
Escargot eggs
Afterwards, we are given a walk-a-round to check out the "special" tv satellite dishes installed. One's "only" 3metres in diameter, and the 5metre one receives channels from Thailand, Taiwan and China!
Now if my Uncle KB can request for 3 whole chickens just for lunch, you can be assured that we didn't leave the estate empty handed either...
Chicken rice, tau yu bak, durians-to-go... Looks like Ben married into the right family : )
YOUR UNCLE HAS A DURIAN ESTATE?!! OH, MAN! When can we go? When can we go?
On my recent trip back to PJ, my family made a trip to Port Dickson (PD), Seremban for a "family durian fest". My Mom's sister Gina (I call her "Dee Ee", meaning 2nd Aunt), is married to Uncle Johnny who owns a durian estate in PD. So one Saturday morning, my mom, brothers, sister-in-law, aunts, uncles, cousins and I squeeze into 3 cars, making the 1.5 hour trip to durian paradise.
Before heading to the estate, we visit Dee Ee's home in Pasir Panjang, a quaint little one-street town. There, we have chicken rice at a nearby coffee shop. Uncle Johnny takes care of everything, from Uncle KB's requests for 3 whole chickens for lunch, plus tau yu bak (braised pig's trotter) and two tables specially "reserved" in this small town kopitiam, just for us urbanites.
It's been a long time since I've had REAL homemade barley, like the type I used to get in Malacca. It reminds me of the old Ujong Pasir house where I spent most of my Chinese New Years and birthdays as a kid, cycling around the Portugese settlement, and the cold, refreshing homemade barley from our favourite kon lo mee shop. Of course, those came in plastic cups unlike this whopper here.
Barley, ungge lekke naladeAfter lunch, the REAL feast begins!
I'm still trying to get used to the heat and humidity, so durian on a full stomach at high noon is a bit too much for me. Instead, I allow my mind to wander off as everyone eats to their hearts' fill (it's gotta be the heart 'cos how in the world could one's stomach take in anymore after THREE kampung chickens and tau yu bak).
My family makes sure they keep my cousin Paul busy, as he pries open durian after durian. Seriously, I lose count of how many durians he opens. Growing up half his life on the estate, Paul is a pro! Swift and unwavering, and I'm not just referring to the thirteen hungry hands reaching out for fruit.
Now to savour durian perfectly ripe and fresh from the estate takes some skill too. As one hand reaches out for the fruit, you've gotta keep your eyes set on the prize, choosing the juiciest and most golden yellow piece. The other hand has to remain in constant motion, chasing away flies that are trying hard to get a piece of the pie.
Then you've gotta keep a mental picture of where the bin is to throw the seed, keeping your eyes glued to the open fruit, while pretending to chase off a fly hovering over the fruit when in fact you're already "chope"-ing your next piece.
In between all this, sometimes you may find a few free seconds to lick your fingers and wipe the sweat off your brow, while engaging in conversation with others around you --- "Wah, shiok ah" --- "Ayo, so many flies!" --- "Ay Paul! This one man-in-the-net or the other one?"
Man in the net? That's your crème de la crème of the estate. The fruit that is so good that nets are placed all around the base of a particular tree, about 3 feet off the ground, to catch a falling fruit, leaving it... flawless.
Like a fine wine, Uncle Johnny describes the durian varieties and the perfect fruit - its strong bouquet, elegant mouthfeel, lingering aftertaste... And the estate, like any good vineyard, with its terroirs and susceptibility to bad weather or just plain bad luck. Like en primeur wines, some trees are even "booked" by durian purveyors or gourmands based on "vintage" predictions.
Besides helping out around the estate, Paul has occupied himself with harvesting "escargot". He leads us to the cement tanks that used to house "tin kai" - frogs bred for human consumption, like for frog leg porridge. But the frogs are gone, and in its place, hundreds of snails!
He points out the different tanks used for different stages in the snails' growth - those for juvenile snails, those just for breeding, and snails that are almost ready for the pot! Paul sells these escargot to vendors at the market or food vendors who use seafood for zhe cha (stir fry) dishes such as lala (mussels), siham (cockles), sotong kangkung (cuttlefish with morning glory) and ikan bakar (barbecued stingray).
Escargot eggs
Afterwards, we are given a walk-a-round to check out the "special" tv satellite dishes installed. One's "only" 3metres in diameter, and the 5metre one receives channels from Thailand, Taiwan and China!
Now if my Uncle KB can request for 3 whole chickens just for lunch, you can be assured that we didn't leave the estate empty handed either...
Chicken rice, tau yu bak, durians-to-go... Looks like Ben married into the right family : )
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Frogs, Phlegm n Dimsum
We're having dimsum for breakfast after a trip to Frog Island. November has a bad cough. Bernie too. Walter says, "You're partners in phlegm".
"That's Andy's favourite", Ria comments as November takes the last piece of siewmai.
"It's alright. Phlegm sounds good actually", Andy retorts.
--- But scum is cooler --- How about bumble bee? --- Nah, too cutesy --- Killer bee? --- Death by bee --- Death by anemone, that's how I'd like to go --- Death by tripod while drowning --- How about The Cockroach Fund? --- Scum is good --- I think we've ordered too much --- It's gotta be repulsive, like fart --- Anymore, aunty? --- Try this crispy one, it's really good --- Too oily --- Like a wart or pimple? --- No, Pus! --- Mmm... this tastes REALLY good.
Frogs, phlegm and dimsum? Sounds like a rather gross combination, but this is what you'll get at a typical gathering of Wildfilms crew and other volunteers from Beachfleas, The Naked Hermit Crabs, ReefWalk and others. This blog is for the benefit of new friends, and really old friends whom I've only recently been reunited with through Multiply or Facebook and the likes. It provides a little intro and glimpse into a part of my life that some of you aren't aware of. Like why I'm always talking about wild things, seaweed and slugs.
A few years ago, I was your regular (almost) Singaporean 20-something. Lost in the rat-race, I never really toyed with the idea of climbing the corporate ladder and would have gladly accepted an offer to just work without bothering about politics and kissing ass. So the best way to stay out of the high-flyer radar was to be the regular (almost) Singaporean 20-something Zombie.
Drag myself out of bed each day, hail a cab to work on most days since dragging myself out of bed usually took too long. Get in to work about 15 minutes late, sit in front of the computer counting down the minutes till it was time to go home. So between 9.15am - 6.15pm, other than actual work and too many trips to the pantry for coffee, I'd wonder what I'd do when I got home that night... Hmm, CSI? Smallville? And what my weekend plans would be... Hmm, any new movies? No money? Ok maybe just sleep through the weekend.
I also found lots of time to surf the Net while at work. Looking for new ideas to pass the time, new hobbies. I thought, damn, there's nothing to do in Singapore except shopping and watching movies, or study part-time for a diploma or degree or whatever was needed in this dog-eat-dog world to get you a "better" job, a "better" life. I tried the latter. It almost killed me. So one day, I think I Googled something like "singapore things to do nature" and somehow, I eventually found myself glued to a website that I visit on a regular basis now - Wild Singapore.
And so begins the start of my (mis)adventures with "wild things" in Singapore - wild people, wild places, wild life... Not a "better" life. But a life fulfilled.
So who or what is Wildfilms?
"...a small group of volunteers who were moved by the beauty of Singapore's shores. We decided to document these on film as time is rapidly running out for many of our shores. In early 2004, a few of us decided to scrape together our meagre funds to buy professional quality broadcast equipment and try to come up with a 12-part documentary on our shores." "We hope to capture not only the fascinating and unique aspects of our shores, but also the special group of people who work for our shores. These include volunteers who raise awareness of our shores, professionals who strive to gain a better understanding of our shores and ordinary people who simply do what they can."
Why Wild?
"Because you have to be crazy and wild about our shores to commit to the project. Super low tides usually happen before sunrise... This means we start our day at 2am and finish at sunrise. Most of the volunteers on the team have full-time day-time jobs and other commitments. This means exhausting schedules every two weeks. But so far, it has been a wild ride and we are having a great time!"
Many of us go through life feeling that we're missing something. Some think, life would be better if I had a girlfriend/boyfriend, if I was married, if I was thinner, if I had a better job, if I was richer, if I'd just lose 10 pounds I'd be perfect. We try to fill this cavity with a person, then expect this person to fulfill this requirement. So you get two less lonely people in the world, unsatisfied. We try to fit something else in - stuff. Buy new toys, new shoes, new hobbies. But all these little pieces just don't fit. Broke and in debt, with a few failed relationships to boot, I finally realised I was looking for all the wrong things, in all the wrong places.
Your 20-something years is a period of self-discovery. You're stuck between trying to be an adult, actually being an adult, and still being treated like a kid. Perhaps in your 20-somethings, you should be working on getting a good job, steady relationship, money in the bank. But this is not Whole. Some turn to God, or a higher being. Faith and religion is all good. But then it actually also teaches us that money is the root of all evil, it does not condone greed and lust and envy. So how do you balance faith, religion, the pursuit of "happiness" while keeping your feet firmly on the ground?
If you watched the Matrix, you may recall how all things go back to The Source. What is The Source? Nirvana? God? Well, perhaps. But the "ashes to ashes, dust to dust, everything that has a beginning, has an end" part deals with a different journey in our lives. In between, I believe the Source (other than faith in God or a higher entity) is Nature.
In Nature, you find balance. Ecosystems are a fine example of that. X hosts Y, Z eats Y, Z dies and goes back to the Source, giving new life to X, or something like that. The circle of life in Nature includes us. But like X, Y and Z, we add weight to the circle. It's up to us if we want to bring balance to Nature, or eat Z to extinction, build a casino over X, and later realise that Y is a deadly disease, Z is the cure, and X is now a tourist resort.
To say we don't know what we've got till it's gone is too obvious. We don't know what we're missing till we've found it. So instead of ignoring all the signs, and searching in all the wrong places, we should "discover nature". Pick it up, not as a hobby, but a responsibility. We feel we are superior beings, a highly developed race. We're not animals, or creatures without the power to think, feel, act. We are THE force in nature. Like Anakin, destined to bring balance to The Force, do we turn to the Dark Side, screw things up, leaving future generations to clean up our mess and suffer the consequences?
If only all we took from nature was inspiration. Vivaldi composing The Four Seasons. Matisse's paper cut-outs of Polynesie la Mer. Bridges shaped like DNA structures. But we get carried away, and forget Nature's most important element - balance.
How much is too much? If I just lost 10 pounds I'd be perfect? No, if you're lucky, you'd be dead. But it's more likely you'd suffer from gastric ulcers and low blood pressure. How much is too much? Just one more major project, just two more extra hours at work, just three more birthdays I've missed......
Balance, my friends. You can have your almost perfect job, and almost perfect home, or not so perfect life. You can be the regular (almost) Singaporean/Malaysian/or whatever 20-, 30-, 40-something. You can choose to make God a big part of your life, or spend more or less time at work, more or less time with family and friends. Whatever gets you going man. As long as you bring balance to your life.
The point is not to live a perfect life, but a life fulfilled. So if you reach a stalemate and have no idea what's the next move, turn to The Source. Be inspired not by material things or societal needs, but the most inspirational of all. Be it a smelly green bug or even the rain beating against your window.
I found my balance in Nature, but it doesn't mean I'm some sort of nature freak or "activist". We all can play a part in giving back to Nature. Whether big or small, a little help always goes a long way. You don't have to be a volunteer, you don't have to be a rocket scientist. I can't dive and can't really swim, but I love marine life. So I volunteer with groups that visit intertidal areas during low tide. I admit I feel I don't make that much of a difference... I can't work the big videocams or fancy gadgets, but I have two arms and two legs, and a pair of working eyes. So I help to carry barang-barang, help to spot interesting creatures for others to document. If you browse through the lists of volunteer groups just in Singapore and Malaysia alone (even small little ones like the Cat Welfare Society), you'll find there's something for everyone.
If we all are to return to the Source someday, better to give what you can now, so you have less baggage with you on your final journey, don't you think?
"That's Andy's favourite", Ria comments as November takes the last piece of siewmai.
"It's alright. Phlegm sounds good actually", Andy retorts.
--- But scum is cooler --- How about bumble bee? --- Nah, too cutesy --- Killer bee? --- Death by bee --- Death by anemone, that's how I'd like to go --- Death by tripod while drowning --- How about The Cockroach Fund? --- Scum is good --- I think we've ordered too much --- It's gotta be repulsive, like fart --- Anymore, aunty? --- Try this crispy one, it's really good --- Too oily --- Like a wart or pimple? --- No, Pus! --- Mmm... this tastes REALLY good.
Frogs, phlegm and dimsum? Sounds like a rather gross combination, but this is what you'll get at a typical gathering of Wildfilms crew and other volunteers from Beachfleas, The Naked Hermit Crabs, ReefWalk and others. This blog is for the benefit of new friends, and really old friends whom I've only recently been reunited with through Multiply or Facebook and the likes. It provides a little intro and glimpse into a part of my life that some of you aren't aware of. Like why I'm always talking about wild things, seaweed and slugs.
A few years ago, I was your regular (almost) Singaporean 20-something. Lost in the rat-race, I never really toyed with the idea of climbing the corporate ladder and would have gladly accepted an offer to just work without bothering about politics and kissing ass. So the best way to stay out of the high-flyer radar was to be the regular (almost) Singaporean 20-something Zombie.
Drag myself out of bed each day, hail a cab to work on most days since dragging myself out of bed usually took too long. Get in to work about 15 minutes late, sit in front of the computer counting down the minutes till it was time to go home. So between 9.15am - 6.15pm, other than actual work and too many trips to the pantry for coffee, I'd wonder what I'd do when I got home that night... Hmm, CSI? Smallville? And what my weekend plans would be... Hmm, any new movies? No money? Ok maybe just sleep through the weekend.
I also found lots of time to surf the Net while at work. Looking for new ideas to pass the time, new hobbies. I thought, damn, there's nothing to do in Singapore except shopping and watching movies, or study part-time for a diploma or degree or whatever was needed in this dog-eat-dog world to get you a "better" job, a "better" life. I tried the latter. It almost killed me. So one day, I think I Googled something like "singapore things to do nature" and somehow, I eventually found myself glued to a website that I visit on a regular basis now - Wild Singapore.
And so begins the start of my (mis)adventures with "wild things" in Singapore - wild people, wild places, wild life... Not a "better" life. But a life fulfilled.
So who or what is Wildfilms?
"...a small group of volunteers who were moved by the beauty of Singapore's shores. We decided to document these on film as time is rapidly running out for many of our shores. In early 2004, a few of us decided to scrape together our meagre funds to buy professional quality broadcast equipment and try to come up with a 12-part documentary on our shores." "We hope to capture not only the fascinating and unique aspects of our shores, but also the special group of people who work for our shores. These include volunteers who raise awareness of our shores, professionals who strive to gain a better understanding of our shores and ordinary people who simply do what they can."
Why Wild?
"Because you have to be crazy and wild about our shores to commit to the project. Super low tides usually happen before sunrise... This means we start our day at 2am and finish at sunrise. Most of the volunteers on the team have full-time day-time jobs and other commitments. This means exhausting schedules every two weeks. But so far, it has been a wild ride and we are having a great time!"
Many of us go through life feeling that we're missing something. Some think, life would be better if I had a girlfriend/boyfriend, if I was married, if I was thinner, if I had a better job, if I was richer, if I'd just lose 10 pounds I'd be perfect. We try to fill this cavity with a person, then expect this person to fulfill this requirement. So you get two less lonely people in the world, unsatisfied. We try to fit something else in - stuff. Buy new toys, new shoes, new hobbies. But all these little pieces just don't fit. Broke and in debt, with a few failed relationships to boot, I finally realised I was looking for all the wrong things, in all the wrong places.
Your 20-something years is a period of self-discovery. You're stuck between trying to be an adult, actually being an adult, and still being treated like a kid. Perhaps in your 20-somethings, you should be working on getting a good job, steady relationship, money in the bank. But this is not Whole. Some turn to God, or a higher being. Faith and religion is all good. But then it actually also teaches us that money is the root of all evil, it does not condone greed and lust and envy. So how do you balance faith, religion, the pursuit of "happiness" while keeping your feet firmly on the ground?
If you watched the Matrix, you may recall how all things go back to The Source. What is The Source? Nirvana? God? Well, perhaps. But the "ashes to ashes, dust to dust, everything that has a beginning, has an end" part deals with a different journey in our lives. In between, I believe the Source (other than faith in God or a higher entity) is Nature.
In Nature, you find balance. Ecosystems are a fine example of that. X hosts Y, Z eats Y, Z dies and goes back to the Source, giving new life to X, or something like that. The circle of life in Nature includes us. But like X, Y and Z, we add weight to the circle. It's up to us if we want to bring balance to Nature, or eat Z to extinction, build a casino over X, and later realise that Y is a deadly disease, Z is the cure, and X is now a tourist resort.
To say we don't know what we've got till it's gone is too obvious. We don't know what we're missing till we've found it. So instead of ignoring all the signs, and searching in all the wrong places, we should "discover nature". Pick it up, not as a hobby, but a responsibility. We feel we are superior beings, a highly developed race. We're not animals, or creatures without the power to think, feel, act. We are THE force in nature. Like Anakin, destined to bring balance to The Force, do we turn to the Dark Side, screw things up, leaving future generations to clean up our mess and suffer the consequences?
If only all we took from nature was inspiration. Vivaldi composing The Four Seasons. Matisse's paper cut-outs of Polynesie la Mer. Bridges shaped like DNA structures. But we get carried away, and forget Nature's most important element - balance.
How much is too much? If I just lost 10 pounds I'd be perfect? No, if you're lucky, you'd be dead. But it's more likely you'd suffer from gastric ulcers and low blood pressure. How much is too much? Just one more major project, just two more extra hours at work, just three more birthdays I've missed......
Balance, my friends. You can have your almost perfect job, and almost perfect home, or not so perfect life. You can be the regular (almost) Singaporean/Malaysian/or whatever 20-, 30-, 40-something. You can choose to make God a big part of your life, or spend more or less time at work, more or less time with family and friends. Whatever gets you going man. As long as you bring balance to your life.
The point is not to live a perfect life, but a life fulfilled. So if you reach a stalemate and have no idea what's the next move, turn to The Source. Be inspired not by material things or societal needs, but the most inspirational of all. Be it a smelly green bug or even the rain beating against your window.
I found my balance in Nature, but it doesn't mean I'm some sort of nature freak or "activist". We all can play a part in giving back to Nature. Whether big or small, a little help always goes a long way. You don't have to be a volunteer, you don't have to be a rocket scientist. I can't dive and can't really swim, but I love marine life. So I volunteer with groups that visit intertidal areas during low tide. I admit I feel I don't make that much of a difference... I can't work the big videocams or fancy gadgets, but I have two arms and two legs, and a pair of working eyes. So I help to carry barang-barang, help to spot interesting creatures for others to document. If you browse through the lists of volunteer groups just in Singapore and Malaysia alone (even small little ones like the Cat Welfare Society), you'll find there's something for everyone.
If we all are to return to the Source someday, better to give what you can now, so you have less baggage with you on your final journey, don't you think?
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Wet n Wild Full Moon Parties
I can almost smell the salt from the sea as a gentle breeze softly ushers the waves up to shore. It is still dark all around except for the moonlight and a few beams of light scattered around the shoreline.
Usually on a night like this, the beach would be dark and quiet unless you bothered to pay attention to the sound of snapping shrimps popping as they ward off predators. And if you listened really, really closely, perhaps you could hear the soft squish as a predatory moon snail grazes along a spongy bed of sea lettuce, or the tip-tapping of little claws as small crabs scurry from one rock to another. But not tonight. It's a full moon night, and the beach is alive!
Usually on a night like this, the beach would be dark and quiet unless you bothered to pay attention to the sound of snapping shrimps popping as they ward off predators. And if you listened really, really closely, perhaps you could hear the soft squish as a predatory moon snail grazes along a spongy bed of sea lettuce, or the tip-tapping of little claws as small crabs scurry from one rock to another. But not tonight. It's a full moon night, and the beach is alive!
I can almost picture my friends there (perhaps at BB Bar?), having the time of their lives, not bothered about how wet and dirty things get as the night wears on.
A girl calls out, "Orgy!" and everyone, guys and girls, all run towards her. I can almost feel the excitement, the adrenaline rush at each "full moon" event. I was there with them during the last full moon, but here I am now, back in Dubai, only able to savour the memories from last month, and feel a tinge of envy as I read others' blogs about the mischief they're up to now.
Now that I've settled back to life in Dubai, it's about time I posted pictures and stories of the "full moon parties" I attended while back in Singapore last month. Full moon, night, beach, guys, girls, some underaged... How could all this equate to good, clean fun? How can a marriage of these elements be not just legal, but good for Singapore?
I know some of you are hoping to see wild images of babes wearing nothing on them but foam but this is a different kind of wet n wild, a very different kind of full moon party. Not loud music but a rhythmic thumping in our heads from lack of rest. No alcohol, just lots of coffee and 100Plus to fuel our sleep-deprived bodies. So sometimes we'd be covered in mud, or touch another's 'booty' but it wasn't something we would consider kinky. Sometimes we had to produce our ICs at spotchecks, but we didn't have to worry about age limits either.
The only thing we had to worry about was Mother. Mother Nature that is. We mention Mother wearily if we look up and notice a reddish sky, threatening rain. Our "outings" to a beach or deserted island depended on the moon, the tides and not really the weather since we'd head out rain or shine unless Mother flashed streaks of lightning our way - her way of saying, "You're grounded. Now go to bed!"
Spring tides occur fortnightly, during the full moon or new moon, when the sea experiences the highest high tide and lowest low tide of the month. From May to July, we experience what some of us call the "superlows" (nothing to do with jeans that show off one's buttcrack to the utter disgust of others). This is when the tide sometimes goes down to a minus zero level. And this is when the volunteers from Wildfilms, Beachfleas and other intertidal-related groups have the wildest nights that sometimes stretch on till sunrise!
I'm part of the Wildfilms crew, although I haven't had much action for the past two years. So my trip home in June/July was planned 'swee-swee' to ensure that I'd be in Singapore during two 'superlow' periods and back in KL in between.
First trip out with Wildfilms and a few Beachfleas was to the stretch of beach at Changi Ferry Terminal. I always enjoy my intertidal explorations on Changi 'cos the shore here has so much to offer. You initially just see a flat shore, covered with muck and algae, but this is the perfect place to spot all sorts of creatures hiding or grazing amongst the large mats of seaweed and seagrass.
Clockwise from top left: Sea cucumber's mouth or anus (we're never sure!); Jellyfish; Sea pencil; Swimming anemone.I know when I first posted pictures from this trip entitled 'Wild Changi', some visitors to my site hoped to see lewd images of certain individuals 'working' a certain carpark... Sorry, apart from my corny sex-related puns, this is very much PG-rated. The sexiest creatures at Changi this night are the Geographic sea hares.
Geographic sea hare (Syphonota geographica)So cute and chubby! For some weird reason, most of us at Wildfilms share the same goo-goo-ga-ga fondness for slugs. I especially like how sea hares and nudibranchs are slow. Not like 'em little fishes and shrimps that tease and play hard to get 'cos they're usually too fast for me to catch on camera.
It is very sad though that Changi is a favourite spot for poachers, who scour the shore for anemone and other "exotic" marine life. They're "exotic" only because they are endangered, you greedy and ignorant fools!
Clockwise from top left: Juvenile flathead or dragonet?; Filefish; A slender prawn with peacock tail; Moon crab (Matuta lunaris).Two mornings later, we're at it again. This time, just four of us from Wildfilms on a restricted trip to the Cyrene Reef (Terumbu Pandan). The boatman waits for daybreak to find the reef, so by the time we arrive, we only have an hour of low tide left to explore and document this reef flat. Chay Hoon reminds us that if we leave any later, we'd have to swim back to the boat carrying all the equipment. This always makes me kancheong as eerie images of me drowning while lugging something huge and bulky like the giant tripod come to mind.
Volunteers for seagrass transects on Cyrene would probably have to visit a chiropractor afterwards 'cos Cyrene is seagrass paradise. If dugongs and seahorses were Bollywood stars, Cyrene would be THE location for the compulsory song and dance routine.
A graceful leaf slug (Elysia sp.)The Cyrene Reef is absolutely beautiful. Very much like the intertidal zone on Pulau Semakau, the reef flat is made up of a long stretch of sand and seagrass meadows, and coral rubble.
Unfortunately, we find out from a boatman on a later trip that Cyrene will be a gonner by 2015. Yup, another tragic victim of development as it is slated for what I call the "slammer" - a tank store will be built on it to cater to the petrochemical plants that were built on other fringing islands and reefs nearby.
I picture it very literally as a crane, lifting a cold, grey and obscenely large piece of metal, dropping it right smack on top of a beautiful reef or island, destroying all life on it while sending bits of flowing debris and sedimentation back to mainland. Slam! Very drama... but goodbye paradise, goodbye Bollywood dreams.
An elegant peacock anemoneSo we appreciate it while it lasts. Document it on film, video, digital ink, as I, like other like-minded souls am doing here.
A cowfish!
Brown is beautiful...In this pic above: What looks like a gross pile of poo is the cast of an acorn worm, and pictured next to it, the acorn worm's butt. Kinky! An acorn worm eats and shits all day, literally. One end gulps sand and the worm filters whatever nutrients or minerals it needs from here, passing out the rest through its other end!
Pictured bottom left is a pair sea stars doin' the 'nasty nasty', and on the right, a 'mutant' sea star tries to recreate the X-Men logo. Sea stars usually have arms in multiples of five - 5, 10, 15, 20... If it loses an arm, it can regenerate a new one. I've even seen a sea star with just one arm, still very much alive!
On a trip to the Sisters Islands, we found this very rare sea star, a Basket Star, pictured above. The reef that is exposed during low tide on Sisters Islands is amazing! Corals of all shapes, sizes, colours, textures... and equally colourful and interesting creatures to match.
Clockwise from top left: Anemone coral; Soft coral; Hard coral; Branching coral
Clockwise from top left: Red egg crab; Swimming crab; "Brown Blob"; Nudibranch (Discodoris boholensis)You absolutely must check out the video of the "brown blob". In the red corner, we have the red egg crab, a highly poisonous crab.
Poisonous or venomous, what's the diff? Poisonous means, you eat, you probably die. Venomous means, you touch, or you kena bitten or stung, you die die sure suffer in pain.
Clockwise from top left: A blue dawn on Sisters; Mushroom coral; Filefish; Red seaweed.The next morning, we head out to Pulau Hantu (Ghost Island) for another 'back-breaking' stint. More coral varieties, and more slugs!
Clockwise from top left: Nudibranch (Glossodoris atromarginata); Soft coral; Leathery soft coral (Sacrophyton sp.); Sunflower mushroom coral (Heliofungia actiniaria).My final trip out with Wildfilms this year was to Pulau Sekudu (Frog Island). The shore was teeming with life, from the tiniest of crabs to seaweeds of all sorts. The carpet anemones came in green and violet, while white and gold peacock anemones danced in the morning light.
Clockwise from top left: Sea grapes (Caulerpa racemosa, a kind of seaweed - some varieties are edible); Red seaweed (Halymenia sp.); Avrainvillea seaweed; Brown or red seaweed (Champia lumbricalis?)Then there were the 'weirdos' - those things that make you go "Ooh... uhh... ugh... wuddat?"
Clockwise from top left: Egg capsules of the Spiral melongena snail; Rose-red coloured sea sponge; Tunicate or ascidian; Beaded anemone with little tentacles retracted.All 'virgins' to Pulau Sekudu can't leave without taking a compulsory picture of "the frog rock" (some joker added the eyes and smiley of course).
As the early sun grows with the tide, I savour the moment once more, taking in everything - the green and earth beneath my feet, the cool waters in the lagoon and the warmth of day. The sky is washed in shades of pink, purple and blue as the sun rises over our little island home. I could not have asked for a more beautiful morning to last me till my next visit back to Singapore.
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