Karma?

I’ve only just started watching Grey’s Anatomy and still getting myself acquainted with the various roles. Anyway, last night’s episode What Have I Done To Deserve This started with a voice-over by George as follows:

Okay, so, sometimes even the best of us make rash decisions. Bad decisions. Decisions we pretty much know we're going to regret the moment, the minute, especially the morning after. I mean, maybe not regret, regret because at least, you know, we put ourselves out there. But...still. Something inside us decides to do a crazy thing. A thing we know will probably turn around and bite us in the ass. Yet, we do it anyway. What I'm saying is...we reap what we sow. what comes around goes around. It's karma and, any way you slice it...karma sucks.

... and ended with the following voice-over, also by George:

One way or another our karma will leave us to face ourselves. We can look our karma in the eye or we can wait for it to sneak up on us from behind. One way or another, our karma will always find us. And the truth is, as surgeons, we have more chances than most to set the balance in our favor. No matter how hard we try we can't escape our karma. It follows us home. I guess we can't really complain about our karma. It's not unfair. It's not unexpected. It just...evens the score. And even when we're about to do something we know will tempt karma to bite us in the ass...well, it goes without saying. We do it anyway.

Hmmm... maybe what I’m experiencing or suffering now is karma. I don’t think I’m loud; my parents will tell you that I’m quiet, keep to myself and much prefer to bury my head in books or go Shopping. However, I can get very excited especially in the company of close friends and whenever this happens, my voice gets all high and [I suppose] squeaky (blame it on my boarding school past, if you must!) and sometimes I can really laugh very loudly and very unladylike-ly.

And so that probably explains why I am now suffering in silence, sitting next to this person who talks loudly [as a colleague pointed out, ‘I thought you are loud, but there’s someone who’s louder!’ and I just stared back at her in disbelief, ‘cause I don’t consider myself loud of course] and giggles and laughs [which sound very insincere and forced and fake] equally loudly and almost always finishes her sentences with that increasingly annoying cackle.

Oh seriously. There she goes blaring again, interrupting what ever brief period of precious silence which has become quite rare.

Heck, in comparison to my next-cubicle neighbour, I am definitely very mild.

I am still trying to learn tuning out noises from next cubicles [aye, I’m sandwiched in between these work prisons; thankfully the other neighbour is not as loud]. It gets so Bad at times, especially when I’m trying to read some work-related literature and believe me, there are a lot of those mind-numbing stuff to read.

I really should remember to get some ear-plugs on my next Shopping trip [I suppose I can get them at pharmacies?]. Maybe I’ll dig my toiletry bags complimentary of various airlines and see if I can make do with a pair until I get a proper pair.

And until she can move to her own new room and leave us in peace, just like that Grey’s Anatomy episode title, I find myself asking God, ‘What Have I Done To Deserve This?’

I'm not sure if I believe in karma. I do know that I believe in God and in miracles. Because God moves in Mysterious Ways.

Memories of Bali

Memories of Bali is one of the earlier Korean dramas I watched and among those that triggered my ‘addiction’ to Korean dramas.

OK, where shall I start? Abah sent Mummy and I to KL Sentral on Saturday noon for our coach to the LCCT. We reached the terminal very early, too early to check in, in fact. Flight departed on time and after suffering kicks and restless leg shakes from the inconsiderate oaf behind me, we reached Bali at 7.40 pm. We were done with the immigration, baggage collection, and customs clearance within 30 minutes. The hotel pick-up was already waiting and it took about another half an hour before we reached the hotel, no thanks to the Saturday Night crowds and the narrow road choked with taxis and pedestrians. We got an apartment unit with a sofa bed in the living room, a kitchenette attached to a corner of the living room complete with crockery, cutlery and even dish washing liquid! [all these were not made available at the Bangkok apartment].

Woke up early on Sunday Morning to check out the beach and to my dismay, I found the beach nowhere as gorgeous as I’d hoped. The sand was not that white – I’ve seen whiter sands on Malaysian beaches! – and not that clean. There were people doing their morning jog and also dogs running around. I didn’t linger there long.

Took the morning hotel shuttle to Kuta. Now Kuta is Bali’s biggest tourist beach area. I found it overdeveloped, over-commercialised, seedy and the word ‘tacky’ kept reverberating in my mind. And it was really tacky. The road leading to Kuta there was lined with an amazing hodgepodge of everything targeted for tourists – hotels from small to big, shops, stalls, restaurants, bars, spas, travel agencies, money changers, photo shops... everything that a tourist could possibly need really. More tacky shops awaited in Kuta selling tacky stuff. We went to find Uluwatu which Lin said stocks hand-made Balinese lace products, from clothes to bed linen. They didn’t come cheap too but the Uluwatu store at Jalan Bakung Sari carried some stuff at a discount [kind of like an outlet store].

We had our lunch at Kebab Place where we ordered chicken noodle soups instead of kebab. The portion made us want to cry, it was that miserably small. We then walked to Centro Shopping Mall about five minutes away before returning to Jalan Legian. It started to rain cats and dogs here and we got a bit drenched. We dodged our way in between stalls [tacky, tacky] and I saw a huge rat [or was it a mouse? I can never tell] and gave a scream. We found another two Uluwatu stores and after walking around a bit more, we took a cab back.

We were Lucky that there was a warung selling halal food very near to the hotel. The service was a bit slow though but worth the wait. After dinner, I placed a call to one of the travel agencies and booked a tour for the next day. You can find dozens of different tours arranged by various tour agencies at the airport; it’s just a matter of choosing where you want to go and which tour company you think can do the job.

The tour company picked us up on Monday morning after 8.30 am. We drove past Denpasar on the way to Ubud. The first village is Batubulan, which literally means ‘moon stone’. Famous for its stone carvings, most of the stone sculptures you see around Bali will almost certainly come from Batubulan. These works are exhibited all along the main road – demons, noble warriors and animals of various sizes and shapes. Batubulan is also a centre for antiques and a variety of crafts, textiles and woodworks and has some well-regarded dance troops. A Barong and Rangda or Keris dance is performed here at 9.30 am daily. The dance symbolises the never-ending battle between good and bad. I didn’t appreciate the dance much though.

We then went to a nearby batik centre but again, this place didn’t impress me much. Our next stop was Celuk, the centre for Balinese goldsmiths and silversmiths. Nearly every family here is involved in some aspects of the delicate silver work. We stopped at a workshop to see a silversmith at work and then to the adjoining showroom but again left empty-handed.

Further along the road towards Ubud is the village of Mas. Mas means ‘gold’ but the craft here is mainly woodcarving and the village offers a myriad of wooden items. The road through it is solidly lined with craft shops. We stopped at one but most of the elaborate and finely carved products were of statues so again we left empty-handed.

After Mas, we entered the area of Ubud. Ubud is recognised as the cultural centre of Bali and is home to many respected local and western artists. I almost bought a painting at the first centre but decided against it and bought one at another centre.

We journeyed on, passing houses, temples [and there were many of them!] and soon we started our ascend up to Kintamani, which is 1500 metres above the sea level. There were wonderful views of terraced rice fields too and I enjoyed the serene view which was enhanced by the fresh air, made fresher from the recent rain. We then stopped at a family-run farm and all kinds of trees were planted there – red cocoa, green cocoa, coffee, vanilla, cardamom, cinnamon, banana, jackfruit... the land was very fertile here [it was near the volcanic mountain]. The family also runs a small shop selling organically produced food products and toiletries.

We finally reached Kintamani and had a late lunch [at 3 pm!] at a restaurant. Unfortunately, it was drizzling and the rain obscured the view of the majestic Gunung Batur. Soon after the rain stopped, there were mists that denied us the view of both the mountain and Danau Batur [Lake Batur]. Oh well...

We returned back to Legian, but not before stopping at a traditional house to see how Balinese traditional life is lived and later a temple. Mummy refused to enter so I went in with the guide. I much prefer Buddhist temples to Indian temples because the former only have statues of Buddha whereas the latter have really gruesome grotesque-looking statues. We reached the hotel at 6.20 pm, after an almost 10-hour day out [the brochure said the tour duration was supposed to be 8-9 hours]. That night, I dreamt I was treasure-hunting in South America and encountered a large, monstrous statue of some mythical figure. That’s for visiting the temple hours earlier.

Tuesday morning: woke up early for prayers [the sun rises early on this part of the world]. After showering, we finished up packing and had a quick breakfast. See, we had a massage appointment that morning. Our pick-up arrived at 7.35 and brought us to the Green Garden Spa at Green Garden Hotel, about 20 minutes away. We had a relaxing and wonderful massage there but as Mummy was worried about arriving the airport late and missing the flight so we were done 30 minutes before the scheduled time [and missed the steam bath – I didn’t mind this – and Jacuzzi – which I did mind missing!].

We were driven back to our hotel and checked out at 1130, after having a very light meal. There were about two mosques quite near the airport and I was pleased to discover there were prayer rooms at the airport too. I was surprised to actually find some products cost cheaper at the airport than elsewhere [that was a first time for me] but I didn’t part with any more Rupiah because the souvenir stuff just didn’t interest me at all. To be honest, I’m getting sick of the same souvenir items sold everywhere in Asia and it’s getting more and more difficult to find good quality and unique souvenirs to bring home.

The plane departed slightly later at 2.15 pm and we reached KUL at 5 pm. There were really kiasu passengers rushing to get off the plane and they got a rebuke from some Caucasian passengers. They certainly gave a bad first impression of Malaysians and deserved the rebuke.

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Footie footnote: Arsenal beat ManUre 2-1 on Sunday. Excellent, superb, fantastic! Thanks to bosom buddy who text me with the good news. Read about the match here and here. Oh and Liverpool also beat Chelshit 2-0 the night before.

Woke up at 5.30 this morning for no reason and wondered if the Carling Cup semi-final between Arsenal and Spurs was still on. Turned on the tube only to find Arsenal trailing by two goals and thought, ‘Heck, was this the team of young Gunners that beat Liverpool last week?’ My decision to abandon a few more precious minutes on the cosy bed was rewarded later with two goals from Julio Baptista who redeemed himself from zero to hero [aye, he scored an own goal in the first half]. Read the full report here. Now we have to face Spurs again next Wednesday to determine who'll face Chelshit in the final at Cardiff.

La Isla Bonita

1427 Hijrah year will end in a few hours. It’s my last day at work before I leave for La Isla Bonita tomorrow [let’s hope it lives up to its name!] and I have a dozen meetings to attend today... [am writing this in between meetings!] *moan, groan, mumble, grumble!* Am sooo looking forward to have a relaxing, stress-free time at La Isla Bonita and may attempt to fit in some treatment treat if time permits.

I had another vivid dream last night. This time, I came back to HQ and found that some burglars had entered the house but nothing was taken. Strange, yes, and disturbing. Then suddenly I was at work but in casuals and was rushing to leave The Office on time. Stopped by a prayer room to perform prayers and of all people I had to bump into was my BigBoss [also in casuals, I can even remember that it was a horizontally striped red and maroon t-shirt!]. Definitely the last person you wanna bump into when you want to leave work on time. We then performed prayers with a few others although I can’t recall who led the prayers.

In the dream, I somehow managed to Escape the dreaded goal-setting meeting [which is scheduled for today at 3 pm!] – gosh, I must have dreaded it so much that it actually disturbed my subconscious mind! And yes, I plan to leave The Office early today too; I have some plans… ;)

Happy New Muslim Year again.

Uninvited

Yesterday my neighbour called me at work to ask if I’ve asked anyone to come over to trim the grass. Apparently some elderly guy came knocking asking if anyone called for his services. I said no, if I ever want to do that, there’d be someone around to supervise, either myself or my parents. Why would anyone cut the grass when the house occupant is not around, how would he get paid anyway?!

Then yesterday evening, as I was about to take my shower, Lin called. We were happily chatting when I heard some funny noises. As I mentioned, I was about to shower and yes, I was like half-naked then. So I hastily put on my clothes - with one hand, mind you, the other was cradling the phone! - and guess what, there were some guys outside with a black car. I opened the sliding door, barely able to control my anger and demanded, ‘Yes?’ and they asked if some Mr Stevens was around and I went, ‘What?!’ and they repeated the question and I said, ‘No. And can you please stop throwing stones at my house please!’ I was so pissed. Later in the shower I thought of all the things I should’ve screamed at them like ‘What the hell do you think you're doing?!!’, ‘What’s with the idea of throwing stones at people's houses huh?!’, ‘How would you like it if people throw stones at your car?!’, ‘If you had broken my sliding door, I’d demand that you bear the repair costs!’, ‘Don’t you have any manners and call out Hello as a greeting instead of throwing stones at people’s houses?’ etc. Grrrrrr...

I suspect Mr Stevens is either a fictional character hastily thought of to lure me out of the house or a real person running away from loan sharks [aka Ah Long] who gives away my house address to those thugs.

My other neighbour once told me that some people once came over during office hours, stood outside my gate and started throwing stones too at my house. What the heck, if you wanna get attention, surely that is a very rude way of getting it. Seriously, don't people have manners anymore?! The guys last night didn't sound local, spoke with good English in some foreign accent [not the usual foreign immigrant lingo or accent] so the least they could do was to call out, ‘Hello?’ a few times. For Muslims, of course, they should give Salam. And I do have an Assalamualaikum sign outside my door too. Man, I was just so pissed at them and annoyed that I didn’t berate them enough for having the cheek and temerity to get my attention like that. What a pity, you speak good English, drive a big car but lack good manners. To me, that only points to how uncouth, uncultured and unrefined you actually are and the lack of good values and manners you have which your material possessions can never compensate for.

Some people really need the guidebooks Manners for Dummies, The Idiot’s Guide to Manners or Manners 101. A pity you can’t buy those kind of books anywhere though.

I had a disturbing dream last night where I dreamt that I was a witness to a few murders. The murderess [yes, it was a she!] pretended she couldn’t walk without the help of a walking stick. When she found out I had witnessed her brutal killings, she hunted me down. I was running through dark corridors and alleys trying to escape her and in the end, I only just managed to stop her. And to add more twist, I was having a relationship with the murderess’ son [no one I know from my reality male friends!] and was torn between turning his mother in to the authorities or let her continue on her killing spree.

I reckon my subconscious mind was still rattled with the mannerless thugs. I don’t think the dream was remotely related to the Ludlum novel I’m currently [still] reading as I’ve read quite a few Ludlum novels thus far [and have a few more waiting for me!] and never had such disturbing dreams before.

Another New Year And Other Ramblings

This is the last week in the Islamic calendar of the Hijrah year 1427. The New Hijrah Year will begin after sunset this Friday.

I find myself making resolutions for the new Muslim year: I want to work on my various relationships: to God, by being a better Muslim; to my family, by being a better daughter, a better sister, a better aunt; to my friends [including bosom buddy], by being a better, thoughtful, understanding, considerate friend; to the society, by being a better member of the public; to the environment, by helping in any way I can to protect the environment, to use resources more efficiently, to reduce, reuse and recycle [to borrow from The Body Shop’s slogan!], to be aware of other living creatures sharing this planet [and not drive any particular species further to extinction! Err, surely cockroaches and lizards don't count?!] etc, etc. For I am one person but I play different roles to different parties [God, family, friends, society etc].

I remember thinking as I was cleaning HQ two Sundays ago that if that day was my last day on Earth, I most certainly didn’t want to spend it being miserable, sad, gloomy, unhappy and down. I told my mate about it and she said she watched a movie starring Angeline Jolie that same weekend titled Life Or Something Like It and the movie’s tagline is ‘What if you only had seven days to live?’ Then last Tuesday, as if to drive the point home further, Grey’s Anatomy aired the episode (As We Know It) and Meredith opened the episode with following voice-over: ‘In hospitals they say you know, you know you’re going to die. Some doctors say it’s a look patients get in their eyes. Some say there’s a scent, a smell of death. Some say there’s just some kind of 6th sense, when the great beyond is headed for you, you feel it coming. Whatever it is, it's creepy. Because if you know, what do you do about it? Forget about the fact that you're scared out of your mind. If you knew this was your last day on earth, how would you want to spend it?’

Wow. I believe God is sending me a message. To get myself out of this funk; to pull myself together; to fully embrace life and what it has to offer. To be thankful Always for life’s little pleasures. I may moan about my job but at least I have a job, I’m not another statistic in the unemployment field searching for the right job and I get paid. I may not have the perfect supermodel body with voluptuous figure, a perfectly sculptured face with the most dazzlingly white Colgate smile, but at least I am healthy and not deformed/disabled. I am thankful that although I don’t drive, I have a good pair of legs – for walking or running after the bus. I have a roof over my head, food on my table, clothes in my wardrobe and other accessories too. My family structure may be unusual but it’s not odd and we’re as functional or dysfunctional as any other family. At least I have overprotective parents who care very much for me and love me unconditionally, despite all the headaches I caused [and still cause] them while growing up.

So I vow that I shall put into practice what I have learnt: to sharpen the saw [which is Habit 7 of the Seven Habits of Highly Effective People], by preserving and enhancing the greatest asset one has, which is oneself. It’s about renewing the four dimensions of your nature – physical [by exercising, eating healthily, managing stress]; spiritual [meditation, religion]; mental [reading, writing (yes, including blogging!), visualising, planning]; and social/emotional [communication and cooperation].

And no, I'm not yet prepared to meet my Maker. I have committed so many sins and can't recall the last good deed I did. I'm definitely not proud of this miserable fact.

~~~~~~~~

I recently wondered if I can actually ever live with someone. I’m such a fussy puss; I may not look organised at work [my workplace is cluttered during the day but I ensure it’s clutter-free when I leave every day] but I so dislike having things out of place at home. I clean the house and mop it three times almost every week and I just can’t stand wet bathrooms. I try not to deep-fry anything because I dislike the grime that results from such activity; besides such oil-coated food is not good for health anyway. When I return from trips, I’d unpack immediately and be done within half an hour and within the hour would already have my clothes in the washing machine. I don't go to bed leaving the sink full of dirty plates and cutlery and crockery.

On the other hand, I can be quite a mess and quite lazy too. I hardly make up my bed at micasa, I just pulled the silk quilt over. I have a few recipe books but I can’t be bothered to try any new recipe [cooking for one should be kept minimal for it to be economical]. I loathe ironing and I haven’t yet managed to clean the windows [now that would take hours! I get exhausted just thinking about it].

So maybe I’m not meant to live with someone yet. I don’t even want to consider having a housemate, such is my fussiness. A pet cat can be a good (if not better) housemate than its human counterpart, except I can’t take care of a cat yet, not when I still am trying to take care of myself. Plus I don’t want to bother with cat hair [I do not yet possess a vacuum cleaner, sad eh] and having to deal with the traumatic time if/when my four-legged feline companion die [sorry for thinking too far ahead but I’ve had my fair share of crying sessions when my furry feline friends died]. So maybe that’s why I’m still solo until now. Because it hit me, while chatting with my friend, how can I live with someone of the opposite sex when I’m so fussy? I’ve seen relationships breaking when people start to stay together – and mind you, I’m referring to those student days when friends share the same house and the friendship deteriorated or went downhill fast after that. I was Lucky to have stayed at the university hall the whole three years of my undergraduate days, and even then I had some disagreements with my English and American flatmates [yup, me the troublemaker], but I did spend a summer in Dublin at my girlfriend’s place and suffice to say, it’s true that you really know someone after living with them.

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It has been one and a half months since I joined this new department. I’m still struggling to fit in, slowly getting into the hang of things. Very slowly actually. It's not easy when you have new stuff dumped into your tray almost daily, things you don't have the slightest clue about. And I find myself still clinging on to the comfort of friendships established earlier in my old department and lunching with my friends. Although I am making new friends here, they are just not the same.

And I’m having problems with my next-cubicle neighbour. She talks excitedly and loudly [OK, I’ve been told I talk like that too] and cackles. A mate asked me if I felt irritated [he could hear my neighbour from his place, three cubicles away!] and I said, well, it’s not as if I have much choice, do I, at least not for now. Told him too that I’ve learnt to try tuning out noises from cubicles next to me even before moving to this new place [yup, I do have bad luck with noisy neighbours]. Can’t wait until the renovation has completed then hopefully my neighbour will move away. Oh, by the way, my neighbour, well, she’s my boss...

Anyway, a colleague of mixed parentage met me in the washroom as I was about to perform ablutions on Monday and we had the following conversation:

She: Oh my, you do look super-Chinese!
Me: [Grinned and thought: Oh super! You think I look like a supermo-, wait, super-Chinese? I didn’t know such a word exists!]
She: Yes, you really do look super-Chinese!
Me: [Still grinning but groaning inwardly. I’d prefer it if you tell me I look like a supermodel!]
She: Yea, you look super-Chinese and you look so much younger too without your scarf.
Me: Thanks, I much prefer to hear that second part!
She: Yeah, you do look sooo much younger. Maybe because you have short hair!
Me: Oh, I can't be bothered to keep my hair long anymore. It's too hot to do so in this weather. I used to keep it long back at uni and finally I decided to chop it all off during my third year. I was a bit sad after cutting it but everyone remarked how young I looked and I knew I'd made the right decision. So, no more long hair for me!

Yea, I have always been told I have Chinese looks. Sheesh, for that matter, a friend always jokingly refers to me as a Vietnamese, yeah, me the Miss Saigon. In Bangkok, we had the locals asking if we were Thai - yeah, right, when we could barely speak the lingo! Oh well, at least I look Asian enough...! [No, I don't know if I have Chinese blood coursing through my veins but I am quite confident I don't have Siamese or Vietnamese or, for that matter, Khmer blood]. And oh, what a boost to my ego to hear someone said I look much younger. Heck, it’d be a boost to any lassie’s ego to hear someone complimenting her on how young she looks, and especially if the compliment was sincerely offered by another girl. I am chuffed now, I am.

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I was actually thinking of how old I’d be on my next birthday in the shower on Sunday evening and, can you believe it, it took me a while to figure out how old I’d be! Now, is that a sign of age catching up or that I’m in denial, not feeling I’m x going on x+1? But I don’t feel that I’m even in my age group. I still feel, act and think like I'm a teenager. Yeah, some may call it immature. But who cares. It's My Life anyway. Besides, I always believe that in each of us is a child that wants to go out and play. And that you don’t stop playing because you grow old, but that you grow old because you stop playing. And age is just a number. Just like your height, your weight, your clothes’ and shoes’ sizes. And we’re hardly concerned with the rest of those figures so why bother about age? Besides someone said I look so much younger, so why care about my age. I, for one, don’t want to!

And if today is my last day in this world, surely my age is the least of my concern [and yours too].

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Footie footnote: 10-man Arsenal overcame Blackburn Rovers last Saturday. Read about it here and here. We're meeting ManUre this Sunday...

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Happy New Muslim Year to all from Miss Saigon ‘Super-Chinese’ fussy puss.

Veni, Vidi, Vici ped ea

Those were the words by which Julius Caesar succinctly described his victory in the Battle of Zela.

Of course it would be too presumptuous to compare any victory with that fought or led by Caesar.

But to have fought on the same battleground twice in four days and to have won both times, now that feat must surely be remarkable.

So hail the young machine Gunners and their elder brethrens too.

For we [OK, they] defeated, no, crushed Liverpool - in Anfield, no less – in four days with stunning machine gun performance that delivered an unbelievable tennis score of 6-3. Woohoo! And Liverpool's Tuesday evening defeat was their first time in almost 77 years [guess double seven are not so lucky after all].

Read all about those matches here and here.

Still on the subject of footie, I know it’s a bit late but better late than never. Congratulations to Canadian David Edgar who made his debut for the Magpies for scoring the tying goal against ManUre in the New Year’s Day match. Kudos to you kid!

Bangkok

Left for Bangkok on Thursday afternoon. There were already 2,078 passengers at the low cost carrier terminal when I entered the waiting room. It was havoc and sheer madness everywhere. It seemed most flights out were leaving from gate T8 and we had no choice but to wait patiently to be called to board our plane. It didn’t help any that the electronic board kept displaying that the earlier flight to Bangkok had closed, with no update whatsoever on our flight and the announcements made only served to confuse us further. Upon further query, we found out that our flight would depart on time [or rather, we would board the plane at the time the plane was supposed to have departed!] and that the 1340 flight to Bangkok was the one delayed [and still delayed by the time we finally took off at 1640!]. I guess they should add ‘on time departures are not guaranteed’ after the tagline Now Everyone Can Fly. Now imagine if you had been on The Amazing Race Asia and thought you’ve secured a lead over the other teams because you managed to book an earlier flight only to find that your supposedly earlier flight would depart much later!

We landed at the spanking brand new Suvarnabhumi Airport at 5.30 pm local time [Bangkok is an hour behind] and it was already getting dark. Night had fallen by the time we cleared immigration, collected our luggage and got a cab to the hotel. It was then when I got a taster of the language barrier and understood how frustrating it must have been for The Amazing Race Asia contestants to be travelling in the city. Luckily, my Thai friend, Nita, had translated our hotel details and other travelling directions into the Thai script. The cab driver waved off our map but looked at the translated hotel name; later I told F that I suspected he could not read the map as it was in English. Anyway, we arrived safely at our hotel, Princeton Park Suites, after about half an hour.

After checking in, we decided to take the bellboy’s advice and venture out to the Suan Lum Night Bazaar for dinner. The hotel staff later told me that the bazaar opens daily from 7 pm to midnight. So off we went into the Bangkok night. We wanted to take a tuk tuk on our return trip but the driver wanted THB400 [which was ridiculous considering we only paid THB240 from the airport to the hotel!] so we took a cab instead.

Friday, 29 December 2006. Nita and another friend, Tony, came over to the hotel to bring us for an up close and personal look at what this City of Angels (or Krung Thep, short for the much longer tongue twister Thai name) has to offer. It was already very bright and hot. We drove past the royal residence and the Parliament to the Ananda Samakhon Throne Hall. The beautiful Throne Hall was built in the reign of King Rama V using marble for construction in the Italian Renaissance architectural style. This is where the King delivers his televised speeches.

We then drove to Dusit Palace and upon discovering that we could purchase a day pass to enter the Vimanmek Mansion at the Grand Palace, we decided to leave the car behind and take a cab instead to the Grand Palace and Wat Phra Kaew (Temple of the Emerald Buddha) [as there may be problems finding parking spot near the Grand Palace]. Foreigners pay a premium fee over that paid by the locals [the locals get to enter for free at some places too!]. The wat structures are extremely colourful, comprising gleaming, gilded stupas, polished orange and green roof tiles, mosaic-encrusted pillars and marble pendiments. We went to see the Emerald Buddha, which is set in a glass case on a pedestal high above. Now the Buddha is actually made of type of jasper [a type of jade] and he has three seasonal royal costumes [for summer, rainy season and winter]! We then walked around the compound; there is even a miniature Angkor Wat at the Upper Terrace.

We then walked over to the Grand Palace, which apart for certain ceremonial occasions, is closed to the public. We snapped some Kodak moments before leaving the compound.

We decided to head for Wat Pho (or Wat Phra Chetuphon aka Temple of the Reclining Buddha), which on the map looked like it was situated just around the corner. After a few hundred metres, Tony recalled that it was actually a bit further [still within walking distance under normal circumstances but not in the sweltering noon heat!] and he suggested we had lunch first. We readily agreed and walked to a restaurant situated on the banks of the Menam Chao Phraya. We dined outside in the shade, enjoying the cool river breeze and watching activities along the river – the barges, the ferries and the long boats plying the river.

Now, the opposite side of the river is Thonburi, which was Thailand’s capital for 15 years before Bangkok was founded. Except for Wat Arun (Temple of Dawn), most tourists stick to the east side of the river where we were on, or Ko Ratanakosin. Ko Ratanakosin (Ratanakosin Island) is where most of the older temples and the original palaces are located. Despite the name, Ko Ratanakosin is not really an island though in the days when Bangkok was known as the Venice of the East, the two lengthy canals that run parallel to the river to the east, Khlong Banglamphu and Khlong Ong Ang, were probably large enough for the area to seem like an island.

Having had a hearty seafood meal [which cost less than RM60 for the four of us!], we decided to brave it and take a tuk tuk to Wat Pho. Yes, four adults in a tuk tuk after a lunch but the tuk tuk driver took it [or us] in stride and off we went, clinging on to dear life as we cramped in the back seat. It was fun and hilarious nevertheless!

The largest temple in Bangkok, Wat Pho houses the tremendous reclining Buddha, all 46 metres long and 15 metres high. It illustrates the passing of Buddha into nirvana. Mother-of-pearl inlay ornaments the eyes and feet of the Buddha figure, with the feet displaying 108 different characteristics of a Buddha. We then explored the surrounding areas and even found the pit stop site for the Bangkok episode of The Amazing Race Asia.

We took a cab back to Dusit Palace [and the mad cabbie actually knew where the Pig Monument featured in The Amazing Race Asia was! Nita and Tony didn’t know where it was when we queried them earlier] and went to the Vimanmek Teak Mansion, which is the world’s largest golden teakwood mansion. This beautiful L-shaped, three-storey mansion contains 81 rooms, halls and anterooms of which only 31 are open to the public. The interior of the mansion contains various personal effects of King Rama V and it somehow reminded me of the Salarjung Museum in Hyderabad, India.

Time flies when you’re having fun and it was late afternoon when we left the palace grounds. It was end of working day for Thai people, a Friday and the last working day of the year too so you can just imagine the traffic. But it was still bearable [much better than KL!]. We drove to Central World, the largest lifestyle shopping complex in South East Asia. We then said goodbyes to Tony and Nita, thanking them for a splendid day out. After browsing through Isetan [yes!] and some other shops, we left Central World for Siam Paragon, taking the sky walk [a pedestrian bridge that connects various shopping centres situated above the road and below the Sky Train track]. Siam Paragon houses various international boutiques [including Gucci, yes!] so we just browsed through before having dinner at the food court [there is one Muslim stall there]. It had been a long day so we took the Sky Train to Victory Monument and cabbed it back to the hotel from there.

Saturday, 30 December 2006. We took the hotel shuttle to Chatuchak or Jatujak Market [JJ Market to the locals]. This is like the Disneyland of Thai markets; everything is sold here from live pets to herbal remedies to silk stuff and souvenirs and antiques to gems and jewelleries! I only wanted to search for Thai silk and have a look at gems and jewelleries, if any [Thailand is one of the world’s largest exporters of gems and ornaments]. We agreed to go our own ways and meet up again after 1.5 hours. I walked along the perimeter of the market and discovered there were almost 30 sections to the market! Luckily, I sighted a map and took one [a very good guide or one would be well and truly lost]. I went off in search of a Thai silk stall but found another instead.

The crowds got bigger as it was nearing lunchtime and after navigating my way through the maze of stalls and narrow corridors and being pushed, shoved and jostled about by other shoppers, I found F and we decided to have lunch. There is a Muslim stall near the clock tower and we had to wait for other patrons to finish their lunch before we could sit down for lunch.

We then walked to Mo Chit BTS Sky Train station and took the train to Sala Daeng in search of Jim Thompson silk house factory outlet. Now Jim Thompson was an American who briefly served in the Office of Strategic Studies (forerunner of the CIA) in Thailand during WWII. He moved to Bangkok after the war and became a tireless promoter of traditional Thai arts and culture and was primarily responsible for building a worldwide clientele for Thai silk that was then in danger of dying out. While out for an afternoon walk in the Cameron Highlands [yes, in Malaysia] in 1967, Thompson disappeared under quite mysterious circumstances and has never been heard of since... and to add more drama and intrigue, his sister was murdered that same year in the States.

The first Jim Thompson we found didn’t stock Thai silk fabric by the metre so we decided to walk over to the factory outlet instead, but not after stopping first at Unitrade Centre [someone came up to us earlier and persuaded us to go there, informing there was a sale at the Government-owned and run store]. And I err, umm, bought some jewellery there... but at least they were guaranteed and certified genuine.

The Jim Thompson factory outlet was quite small and hence not well-stocked so we left disappointed. We walked along the notorious Patpong Road – it was mid-afternoon and not much activity apart from noisy hauling of stall set-ups was seen and heard - to the Sala Daeng BTS station. We took the train to Surasak station and walked along the North Sathorn Road to Health Land. There were already quite a crowd there and as we may have to potentially wait for an hour for the Thai massage [it costs THB450 for two hours], we opted for the aromatherapy body massage instead. It was almost the same massage I had in KL but with different application; here the masseuse was gentle and keener to make you feel comfortable while at the same time ensuring you have a good massage. The one in KL was not very gentle and more bent on making you feeling painful [and then said ‘You should come again to get used to the massage,’ or indirectly ‘You should spend more money on us before you can get comfortable...’]. To be honest, I was a bit scared and terrified of the masseuse in KL.

It was dark when we re-emerged into the Bangkok air and feeling hungry, we took the train to Siam Paragon for dinner. There was a concert of some sort outside the shopping centre.

Sunday, 31 December 2006/Aidil Adha. Today is one of the holiest days in the Muslim calendar. I could only offer prayers for all the pilgrims performing their Haj half a world away. Anyway, on this side of the world, we took the hotel shuttle to the Mahboonkrong (or MBK) shopping centre. It’s all air-conditioned but there are many small inexpensive vendors in addition to the Tokyu Department Store. You can even bargain at the stalls so it’s like Suan Lum and/or JJ Market but with air-con! We had lunch there at a vegetarian outlet as the Muslim stall at the food court was closed due to Eid.

We then took a non-metered cab [the first one that I saw in Bangkok!] and after bargaining with him, he agreed to take us to Pratunam Centre but not before we stop at the Gems Gallery on Rama VI. It reminded me of those Government-owned outlets catered for tourists in Beijing and Shanghai. I was amazed at the gems and jewelleries on display – in various gigantic sizes, set in such magnificent settings! I couldn’t really part with more Baht on more jewellery so after admiring some, I walked over to a smaller gallery room housing various other Thai souvenirs. They were reasonably priced so we bought some souvenirs each while at the same time ensuring the cabbie got five free litres of petrol [if we had not bought anything, he’d only got one free litre]. It wasn’t so much to help him but as we could find something reasonable there, it turned out to be a win-win situation for both parties.

We didn’t venture into Pratunam Market because we’ve had enough of markets but went to Pratunam Centre. Even though not many shops were opened, I could tell this was a mistake. It’s a poor, sad excuse for a shopping complex and we were done in 20 minutes. We decided to walk to the nearest Sky Train station and go back to the hotel.

After resting, I went out alone in the evening [because F didn’t want to] to Suan Lum night bazaar in search of last-minute souvenirs. I had yet to buy souvenirs to be honest. So I left early, before 7 pm, as I wanted to be back before 9.30 pm. There was considerable traffic and I thought that it was due to New Year’s Eve. We passed the Victory Monument and I remember wondering why were there so many people on the sky walk looking down at the roundabout. I then saw police cars and crowds on the road and thought there must be some accident that had happened earlier. The cabbie then spoke on his hand phone for a while but because he couldn’t converse in English, I didn’t ask him what had happened.

It was when I had arrived at the night bazaar when I got a text saying that there were some explosions in downtown Bangkok. But I Always have this tendency to think that God will protect me insyaAllah. Maybe it’s just me - I tend to dismiss such things because I have Faith that I will be protected: I once encountered a bomb scare when travelling in the London Underground, no thanks to IRA terrorists; I also visited Belfast once with the army patrolling about - despite my parents’ warnings – and only told them after I came back safe; and I visited the States four months after the 9/11 incident and alhamdulillah didn’t encounter anything untoward [in fact a very friendly Yankee approached me and wanted to take me around his city!]. So pardon me if I didn’t see the reason to panic or be overly paranoid.

It was after an hour later when some stalls started closing down that I wondered if the situation was perhaps more serious than I thought. I mean, this was Suan Lum night bazaar and the shops here normally close at midnight. Then I started getting text messages from my girlfriends in England all asking about my whereabouts and that got me wondering how bad the situation really was. I hurried on with my Shopping, not that I had much luck with the stalls closing down and those that were still opened somehow didn’t quite catch my fancy. Took a cab back to the hotel – the cabbie could spoke good English this time! – and asked him what had happened. It was then when I learnt that there were seven explosions in Bangkok just after 6 pm. And I just passed Victory Monument, which was one of the sites of the explosions, shortly after the blast too, oblivious to the incident that happened only minutes before. Talk about ending the year with a bang! When I tuned into CNN later that evening, I found that New Year celebrations were cancelled in Bangkok. [If you ask me, I can tell you of many other ways to celebrate New Year]. Anyway, back in the cab, I kept thinking of the lyrics to the One Night In Bangkok song:

One night in Bangkok makes a hard man humble
Not much between despair and ecstasy
One night in Bangkok and the tough guys tumble
Can’t be too careful with your company
I can feel the devil walking next to me

F was not happy that I didn’t respond to her texts; I told her that my hand phone battery was running low and that I had already sent texts to my friends in England and to Nita telling them I was safe. It turned out that her following texts only got delivered to me later that night and early the next morning! Funny ain’t it that I got texts from England quite promptly but very late from a roaming hand phone. Must be some network jam or something. I was a tad sad and disappointed that no one back home called to check on me as they usually do then realised that Akak was at HQ for Eid and we don’t have Astro installed there. In fact, Mummy told me that they only found out about the explosions the next day.

Monday, New Year’s Day. Boy, oh boy. Another brand new year to be greeted with enthusiasm and optimism, when I only have cynicism, pessimism and scepticism with the failings of humans with the never-ending war, the ever so elusive peace, the worsening global climate as evidenced by the extreme weather changes – no thanks to human activities [I like to think I’m doing my little bit in conserving resources], the famine in Africa, the increase in species listed as endangered [even polar bears are endangered now!]... maybe it’s just me but it’s just another day to me. Different year, different month, different date of course, but apart from that, it’s just another ordinary day.

Found out from CNN as I was getting ready that there were more explosions that rocked Bangkok five minutes after midnight. Left for the airport at 6.20 am because we thought there may be increased security check at the airport. Turned out the AirAsia counter would only allow check in two hours before departure. After checking in, I paid the departure tax of THB500 and went in immediately. Browsed the duty free shops before making my way to the gate. Flight took off on time and we reached KUL at 1235 hours. The bags were late and I was only reunited with my bag more than 45 minutes after touching down. Reached micasa at 1530 hours, knackered and hungry.