(Still) Alive And Kicking

I have been spending the past few days lunching at my desk while surfing the Net and doing further studies and cost-benefit analysis at home. The major part of it has been settled but I am now working out other details. I have been meaning to write – I do miss writing in this blog - but didn’t quite manage to find the time.

Since my last posting, I have also managed to meet up with my dear friends: Elle, who was in town last week, last Thursday evening, and last night, my Taiwanese neighbour at varsity, Jenifer, who flew in from her native Taiwan for a meeting. It was wonderful to meet up with them and I had fun playing tourist guide to Jenifer (not a problem when our rendezvous was at KLCC!). She told me that she and her colleagues were charged RM20 for a cab-ride to the KL Tower from KLCC – that was just so ridiculous and bad of KL cabbies: you give KL a bad name! So I made sure that she got a cab with a working metre machine back to the hotel.

Apart from that, life is pretty much the same. I’m still Alive And Kicking, but not yet quite quaking (speaking of which, an earthquake did recur in England a few days ago though. Funny, my first earthquake experience was in England rather than in this region). Oh, there’s also all the hype surrounding the coming elections, and coupled with the environment in the office, it is all I can do sometimes from shouting out loud ‘A Little Less Conversation, a little more action please!’ On the family front, I’d made deals and pacts with my nephew and niece last weekend – it should be fun to see how they fulfil their end of the bargain.

Boy, am I looking forward to the weekend. Bring it on!

Beautiful

I have a colleague who is occasionally teased by others and all because she has a dark complexion – which is not unlike a lot of other Malays - and a bit on the heavy side – which again is not all that unusual. They call her ‘Black’ and make jokes about being fat. I feel sorry for her and don’t understand why people have to make fun of another like that and tease each other mercilessly. It’s not as if she can do anything about her complexion and if she is happy with her weight, then why should this bother other people anyway?

I’ve been wanting to ask her whether she minds all the teasing and why she puts up with it so finally I approached her and asked. She assured me that she doesn’t mind most of the time, that she hardly ever pays attention and that she’s used to it. Still, it disturbs me because I don’t think it’s proper for others to tease other people like that. If I don’t know the others any better, I’d think they are just being mean, malicious and spiteful, instead of being playful.

Perhaps our society is also to be blamed. We have advertisements touting the desirability of being fair-skinned and being slim – apparently being fair-skinned and slim can land one in a job more easily than being dark-skinned and plump. We have beauty products that promise miracles to the Asian skin - lightening cream to make the skin fairer in days if not weeks - and slimming drinks to make us slender. On the other hand, there is no cream in our market to make one look tanned although such fake tan products are aplenty in the western markets. Appeton Weight Gain is probably the only weight-gain formula drink in the market otherwise saturated with weight-loss formula drink.

Does our society then in some way encourage people to view others so narrowly? That if one is either dark or on the plump side, she is doomed to a failed life or a less-than-desirable existence? A real-life Ugly Betty, bullied at work and clumsy in life? (There are times when I feel like an Ugly Betty myself, not because I’m bullied at work but because I, too, am a clumsy klutz at times).

I believe we are all Beautiful inside and outside, because we are all God’s creation. It’s just that we tend to view other people and benchmark them against our own (biased and twisted) perception and idea of what beauty is. But how can we call ourselves Beautiful when we put down other people easily? And what right do we have to criticise and make fun of another of God’s creation?

‘Cause we are beautiful no matter what they say
Yes, words won’t bring us down, oh no
We are beautiful in every single way
Yes, words can’t bring us down
Don’t you bring me down today

Cry-Baby

At the risk of repeating myself, I have always been an over-protected child. Oh, I was bullied by my elder siblings alright but I had my parents to defend me. My aunt said I didn’t cry easily when I was a child, for instance I didn’t even Shed A Tear at my first day at school (that was because I never went to kindergarten and hence was actually looking forward to going to school and meeting friends). My aunt also said I was ‘tougher’ than my elder sister: she who cried buckets when she went to boarding school – and whenever we went to visit her, yes, even during SPM exam period – me, I hardly cried when my parents came to visit and left.

But I would be lying if I say I hardly ever cried or that I’m such a tough cookie. I did cry when I got scolded by my parents and siblings (yes, even the youngest child gets lectured a lot). I cried hard when my cat died. And I cried while watching those old Malay movies. In fact, I still do cry when I watch sad, moving dramas or movies (and I watch a lot of Korean dramas which tend to be tear-jerkers). Heck, I even cry watching Disney movies.

So it was hardly a surprise that I was crying like a baby by the end of the latest Petronas CNY ad. And I find myself churning out fresh tears every time I watch the ad: I cry for little orphans everywhere and I cry for all those unfortunate children being given up for adoption. [I once cried myself to sleep one Ramadan evening after watching a documentary of an orphan raised by his aging grandparents – his parents had died in a car accident (I prayed his grandparents would live a long life and be able to take care of him). And years ago, I also cried myself to sleep after watching a documentary on an orphaned Bosnian baby with an amputated leg gurgling at the camera. I remember wondering what kind of future the baby had with his amputated leg in a (then) war-torn country.]

And I cry because I am so thankful that I still have my parents, family and friends.

Scent Of A Woman

Sought after, fought over, dreamt of, chased after, longed for, and lusted for by salivating males who must fight hard with each other to win her and lift her up. Fights and arguments have been known to happen and tempers have been known to boil as they pursue her. She is so desirable and yet unattainable for most. She is so sleek and sexy and only those worthy and deserving will manage to win her. She is so within sight, but can be so out of reach. One slip and it can be costly.

I daresay the Premier League trophy is a female, a she-trophy. Because she is all as I described above. Because she is pursued by twenty teams of players of boys and men are all lusting after her and literally drooling and panting in their chase for her, each team with its own reason for wanting to own her but one main common theme prevails: to reach the coveted position at the top of the league, to win, lift and keep her.

It’s still too early and would be presumptuous of me to name a particular team which would lift her at the end of this season. Still, Arsenal made another step towards the scent of that trophy when they beat Blackburn last night at home ground with a dozen more games to go; just a day after both ManUre and Chelshit lost and drew at home respectively.

Another CNY at Parijs van Java

Wednesday, 6 February 2008: Eve of Chinese New Year
This morning, we left home shortly after morning prayers for the airport. I wasn’t too worried that our flight would be delayed by ten hours as suffered by Aunty - as our flight originated from KUL unlike hers which originated from flooded Jakarta – and thankfully we did depart and land on time. We were lucky that our bags were among the first to be out: Bandung airport is tiny and there is no conveyor belt; instead there were airport workers sorting out passengers’ bags and arranging them neatly by the side for passengers to collect. We didn’t ask for assistance from any porter as we didn’t have any small change. We quickly cabbed it to the hotel – probably one of the earliest passengers out of the cramped airport – and as luck would have it, we managed to check in immediately. I purposely chose a different hotel than the one we stayed in last CNY.

After prayers, we walked over to Pasar Baru Trade Centre. It was quite near (we had to endure more than half an hour of angkot ride each way from our hotel last year). However, what we gained in distance, we ‘suffered’ in another form of challenge: scaling the steep stairs of the bridge that crossed over the railway track. I’m sure the bridge was sturdy and had been well used for it was creaking and groaning and at times, seemed to be swaying under our weight. We had lunch first before hitting the market.

The market sells mainly shirts, embroidered blouses, t-shirts, Muslim prayer attire, head covers... as usual, its main clientele is the female population. I stayed back alone after Mummy and Abah left for the hotel to rest and after wandering around, found a stall selling kebaya materials from Japanese silk, Thai silk, French cotton, normal cotton ... what a find considering other stalls only sell semi-silk kebaya materials! The shopkeeper informed me that they buy Japanese silk, Thai silk and French cotton materials before embroidering them by hand; hence the material colours are more unusual and unique.

I returned back to the hotel but not before checking out the area within the hotel vicinity. There was even a small tourist information office just around the corner from the hotel, diagonally opposite the Governor’s office. It was the same Bandung as a year ago: angkots slowing down to offer a ride, hawkers pulling their bakso noodles mobile stalls, trishaw pullers, street peddlers ... and yes, they all worked very hard for their money. In the market, you see young men carrying containers of doughnuts (which looked a lot like Dunkin Donuts doughnuts) and pulling containers of bottled drinks everywhere, all earning an honest living.

Thursday, 7 February 2008: Chinese New Year/Imlek*
* Imlek is the local word for Chinese New Year

This morning, we took an angkot to Lembong to an area which the locals call ‘Danar Hadi’ (I couldn’t locate Danar Hadi in the map though I could locate Lembong) to find batik materials. See, a friend of Mummy just came back from Bandung and told her of some boutique selling batik (and knowing Mummy, she never found out where the boutiques are located so we had to ask around a lot and were advised to go to Lembong, which is the nearest to the hotel. Other batik boutiques abound but are located in other parts of the city and would require us to either take a number of angkots to get there or a cab). Anyway, there was a block of three batik boutiques at Lembong, much to my relief (otherwise, Mummy would be lamenting on her missed opportunity of buying silk batik material and guess who have to find another batik boutique?).

After purchasing some silk batik materials, we walked to a nearby Edward Forrer shoes factory outlet. However, the store was quite small but the shop assistant very kindly gave directions on how to get to the bigger outlet at Jalan Ir Juanda at Dago. We walked to the nearest intersection and hailed an angkot to get there.

The Edward Forrer shoes factory outlet store at Dago, located diagonally across Patra Jasa Hotel, was definitely way much bigger and there was even a sale going on in that store; alas, I couldn’t find anything appealing so left empty-handed. There were many factory outlets along the road (and all over Bandung) but I wasn’t interested in clothes or handbags from these outlets. Abah did manage to buy a nice shirt from Level, the outlet located across Edward Forrer. We then took a Damri bus back and walked a bit to the hotel, feeling very pleased with ourselves for taking the angkot and bus just like the locals (a cab would have cost us more than 14 times more). So when in Bandung, do as the locals do.

The rest of the afternoon was spent on R&R – and watching The Amazing Race marathon.

Friday, 8 February 2008: Day 2 of Imlek

A leisurely start today. We left the hotel after 9 am today for Pasar Baru, yes again. It was an overcast morning with promise of rain in the air. I like looking at the various Muslim prayer attire – of cotton, French cotton, Japanese cotton, even silk – but they were all very transparent and do a poor job of covering your aurat (and what good would donning the prayer attire if your aurat is visible, unless you wear long-sleeved tops and trousers) so I didn’t buy any. I did buy more Japanese and Thai silk and cotton kebaya materials though.

We had an early lunch at the food court at the sixth floor. Abah then went for Friday prayers at the eighth floor – yes, there was a mosque up there and shoppers and shopkeepers alike all went to perform prayers. It just proves that you don’t need to perform prayers in a proper prayer room or mosque because you can pray just about anywhere as long as you know the direction of Kaabah.

We finally left the market at 2 pm. The heavy rain that finally fell had by then trickled to a drizzle. Mummy and I went out again to Kartika Sari, a renowned cake house/bakery in Bandung to buy layered cakes and pastries to bring home. The rest of the afternoon was a repeat of the previous afternoon – R&R and continuation of The Amazing Race marathon.

Dinner was again had at a local restaurant located in alley across the street from our hotel. This time around, I found the local fare a bit easier to swallow, ingest and digest. Alhamdulillah.

Saturday, 9 February 2008

We left the hotel after 8 in the morning for our flight home. It was yet another overcast morning and apparently it always rains during Imlek. Unlike our other fellow passengers with bulging bags and hand luggage, our bags were much smaller and lighter. There was a family which we met last year and apparently this was their seventh visit to Bandung! Yes, it’s a shopping heaven for most people. The crime rate is lower than Jakarta, the climate is cooler (as it’s on a high elevation above sea level), the food is undoubtedly halal in most places and the market and numerous factory outlets dotted around the city have enough to offer to make just about anyone shop (I didn’t sight any souvenirs on sale anywhere though). So it’s no wonder that people go there repeatedly.

Our flight departed on time although the flight from KUL was ten minutes late and we landed at our scheduled arrival time of 1.30 pm. Alhamdulillah.

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Manchester Shitty beat ManUre at Old Trafford last night, a week after losing for the first time at home ground to Arsenal. I can’t thank Man Shitty enough for keeping ManUre in second place in the league and in the Manchester neighbourhood. And congratulations to the Pharaohs for winning the Africa Cup of Nations.