Storming The Brain

The corporate company I am currently working with is indeed the premier toll expressway operator in Malaysia and I believe the company is already at its best. Frankly speaking, I am very proud to work with this well established company. Some people call this company a gold mine, some even say it a comfort zone. Well, I do agree with them, but I perceive the company differently.

This Company to me is a venue to know and get closer to people with higher level of thinking. A venue where I can spill out my creativities and show them off and be recognised. A venue where ideas are heard and appreciated and not simply thrown away. A venue where I can explore more in what I do best, civil engineering, and will not become brain drain. A venue where there is a chance to stand tall, work hand in hand with the Managing Director, CEO, COO. As a summary, this Company is a good place for my self-development.

Speaking of which, the Management had organised a 5-day brainstorming session from 12 - 16 September 2005 which was called as The Special Task Force, as a way to get as many ideas out as they could from the staff. Well, I was one of the 30 selected people who voluntarily participated in the program. These people were then divided into 6 groups of five. Two groups would be sent away to Cameron Highlands, two groups to Pangkor Island and two groups to Port Dickson, for the so-called ‘vacation’. At the end of the program, we would all have to present our “outside of the box” ideas to the judges, comprised of the Company's Managing Director and five demanding Senior General Managers.

My group unanimously had chosen Cameron Highlands, yayyy! A cooler place - good for mind, body and soul! But berangan aje laaa…. the 5-day vacation was totally excrutiating to me and my teammates, Ijoe, Amran, The Razzler and Ajoy (dah jadik arwah dah). No good sleep, no good food, no lari-lari in the tea garden macam cerita Hindustan, no lepak-lepak. Painful! Arrghhh… Perah otak macam perah kain basah. There was one night where none of us uttered a word and none of us came out with any brilliant idea. It was a silent night. Syed finally broke the silence by letting out a loud sigh “I think the box is just too high to climb to get outside-lah!” which made us laugh terbahak-bahak.

Well, the program was similar to the TV show, The Apprentice, except that in this program there was no Mr. Donald Trump sitting amongst these VIPs, provoking and intimidating you. And the best part was, nobody got to hear the word “You are FIREDDDD!”.

Never Too Old

This was the first time I celebrated my other-half’s birthday. It was his 43rd birthday yesterday and I wanted to make it a special one for him. So, a few days back, I secretly bought him a flashy Montblanc wallet at Suria KLCC, Kuala Lumpur as the birthday gift and made a dinner reservation at a romantic restaurant, Courtyard Damansara. I presented the birthday gift to him last night while we were having dinner together. So here’s wishing you…

“Happy 43rd Birthday, sweetheart. You’re never too old for me.”

'V' For Vietnam

One of the tunnel holes of Chu Chi Tunnels

From afar, the never ending rattling of automatic weapons can be heard. However, as the Americans get deeper into the wood, peculiarly not a single Vietnamese can be seen. No sound of children’s cry of fright. No sign of movement. Where are they? It seems like a dead land, but the traces of human presence are very obvious. Chopped wood bundled neatly and stored in a newly built hut. Fresh growth of fruit plants and vegetables cover some parts of the area. A flaming bonfire confirms the existence of those people. Where had they gone hiding?

The Saigon’s Notre Dame Basilica

That was a common scene of the Chu Chi Tunnels during wartime in 1968. Chu Chi Tunnels being one of the most famous and extraordinary battlegrounds, is located about 30km Northwest of Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon), Vietnam in the Chu Chi rural district. The Chu Chi Tunnels consists more than 200km underground maze where thousands of fighters and villagers could hide. The rural district is noted as the base where the Vietnameses mounted their operation of the Tet Offensive in 1968. By using the tunnel network that stretched from Ho Chi Minh City to the Cambodian border, the Viet Congs managed to control the rural area. The main axis system has many branches that connect to underground hideouts, shelters and entrances to other tunnels. Vietnameses are born to be naturally skinny and petite, an advantage for them to fit through very small and untraceable entrances and passages (0.5 meter to 1 meter wide). One has to bend or drag when walks along the passages. 

Before the invasion of the Americans, Chu Chi had been a peaceful land of many gardens. One halcyon morning in 1968, Americans ruthlessly dropped strings of bombs on the peaceful land, killing thousands of Vietnameses. The blood-thirsty American squads mercilessly fired at the women and children. The Americans wanted to turn Chu Chi into a dead land, but Cu Chi would never die. Instead, the war had turned the Vietnameses into brilliant fighters, who they called themselves as Viet Congs. Slowly and silently they built secret tunnels as hideouts. While being attacked by the Americans several times, the digging continued until they finally completed the underground village. The tunnels, not only had they become the shelter for thousands of villagers but it had also become the safest place for the Viet Cong guerillas to strategize their fights and ambushes against the invaders. During ‘calm’ times, when the invaders temporarily stopped attacking, the guerillas and villagers would crawl out of the tunnels and would go about their daily bussinesses as usual. The men would chop woods, catch fish and built traps while the women would wash clothes by the stream, pluck some fruits and plant vegetables. Some Viet Congs would be stationed at every corner of the land to detect the advance of the Americans and send signals to the village occupants if it happened. Upon hearing the signals, the guerrillas and villagers would leave everything and scurry hurriedly into the jungle and into the tunnels through the ‘main entrance’. The last person would have to close the entrance door from outside and cover it with dry leaves and tree branches and ensure that there were no traces of footprints that might lead to their hideouts. Then he would enter the tunnel through another entrance (backdoor) which was much smaller and difficult to squeeze into. While the American troops searched around above ground, the Vietnameses went about their business underneath. 

Vietnamese health drinks

The war ended in 1975 with victory on the guerillas' side. Since then the Vietnameses moved on to live like normal people. They no longer lived under the ground. When I paid a visit to Ho Chi Minh City in June 2005, I took the chance to visit the battleground and I felt like the war had just ended yesterday.

Waterworld

Have you seen the animated movie, Finding Nemo? The brilliant film is about eventful journeys of two fish, Marlin and his son Nemo, who become separated in the Great Barrier Reef when Nemo is unexpectedly taken far from home and thrust into a fish tank in a dentist’s office. Buoyed by the companionship of a friendly-but-forgetful fish named Dory, the father embarks on a dangerous trek and finds himself the unlikely hero of an epic journey to rescue his son.

Anemonefish (Nemo) or scientifically known as Premnas biaculeatus come in a family called Pomacentridae (Damselfishes). They inhabit lagoon and seaward reefs and can be found mainly in protected coastal waters and lagoons with depth range 1 - 16 m. Typically can be seen in pairs in which males are much smaller than females. Morphologically, an anemonefish has a distinctive prominent preopercular spine that extends across the head-bar - juveniles and males are in bright red, females become maroon to nearly black. Feed primarily on zooplankton and benthic algae. They are absolutely harmless. There are various types of Anemonefish but the one shown here is known as False Clown Anemonefish (can be found at large in Malaysian water).

I saw few of them when I scuba-dived at Redang Island back in May 2005. What a fantastic world I had discovered at the very bottom of South China Sea.

Bang! Bang!

One fine sunny morning in February 2005, I headed to Subang Shooting Range for a shooting competition. Eventhough this was not the first time I ever held guns fully loaded with live bullets, I shivered uncontrollably. 

Greeted by a bunch of long time friends comprising of sharp shooters, police officers, bodyguards and frequent hunters I felt my fate was forecasted already. No way I could win this competition. Before we started with any event we were given the 4 rules of gun safety.

The 1st Law of Gun Safety - The Gun Is Always Loaded!

The 2nd Law of Gun Safety - Never Point A Gun At Something You’re Not    Prepared To Destroy! 

The 3rd Law of Gun Safety - Always Be Sure Of Your Target And What Is Behind It!

The 4th Law of Gun Safety - Keep Your Finger Off The Trigger Until Your Sights Are On The Target!

The competition started with the .38 Smith and Wesson Heavy Barrel. It is a revolver cartridge developed by Smith & Wesson in 1877 and uses a 148 grain (9.6 g) rounded nose lead bullet. Six small tables had been arranged in one line about 10 meters away from the target. Each one of us were asked to stand behind a small table. There, lying on each small table was a revolver. When the marshall blew the whistle we had only 5 seconds to pick the revolver up, aim at the target paper and pull the triger. Prit!Bang! Prit! Bang! Prit! Bang! After 5 shots, we inspected our targets. Hmmm… I had one shot that almost hit the bull’s eye, one that punched through in the black area, one that strayed outside the black area, and the last two that might have hit the birds. 

We proceeded to the second event, the Semi-auto 9mm Pistol (which was introduced in 1954). There were pistols on the small tables infront of us and we were asked to load the bullets into the magazines. The target papers were changed to new ones and placed 15 meters away from the tables. Again we were given 5 seconds to fire each shot. With an unsteady hand I aimed and pulled the triger. Prit! Bang! Prit! Bang! Prit! Bang! After 5 shots, I could see no sign of bullets found on the target. What a waste! 

The last event was the falling plate event for 8-bore pumpgun. So heavy and bulky the gun was, I thought I had grown some muscles after lifting it. The way of handling it was to place it perpendicular to your shoulder with your chest bent forward. The gun must be placed very firmly on your shoulder so that the impact when the triger was pulled would not hurt or bruise your body. Improper handling can sometimes be so hurtful. I managed to hit 5 out of 10 plates which made me the third winner.

I left the shooting range with a third-place medal in my hand and blue marks on my left shoulder.

Sura & Baya

Surabaya, the second largest city in Indonesia, lies on the northeastern end of the island of Java, on 7.2° (805 km) south of equator to be exact. The time in Surabaya is GMT + 7. The city was officially founded in 1293 when Raden Widjaja established Majapahit, Indonesia's most glorious empire. History told that the city was founded on the site of a "legendary" battle between a sura (shark) and a baya (crocodile) thus the name 'Surabaya'. The people of Surabaya had gone through numerous fights against British and Dutch. The last battle they had fought before achieving their independence was the Battle of Surabaya. The Indonesian peasant army had fought in a state of frenzy so as to make certain Indonesia would become a free and independent Republic, and vowed to forever fight and sacrifice until freedom became a reality. Those who fought and died for Indonesia in that bloody battle are commemorated by the Tugu Pahlawan (Heroes' Monument). Since November 1945, Surabaya has always been known as Kota Pahlawan (City of Heroes). Almost 80% of its population are Moslems.

After doing a hell lot of thinking, I agreed to join my aunt and her maid for a year-end trip to Surabaya, Indonesia. Looking at the calender, December 2004 could be the right time to have that trip where I could 'make full use' of my annual leave balance or else they would be forfeited when new year came and that would be such a waste. Another friend of mine, Miss N agreed to join making it four of us heading for a fun trip to Surabaya.

As soon as we landed at Juanda International Airport, situated at the center of the small city of Surabaya, a smell of spicy bakso (fishball soup) surrounded us, pricked on our nostrils and tempted us to hop onto those plastic seats and slurp the soup down our throats. But first thing first. Casting our hunger and thirst aside, we hailed a cab and searched for a good place to stay. Later then we would think of filling up our empty bellies. The cab took us to Gerisik, an hour journey from Surabaya, and managed to find a 3-star hotel called Saptanawa Hotel. Nothing much to be seen around this empty and extremely quiet town. Few blocks ahead was a small foodstall where we indulged ourselves in the spicy taste of bakso. Looking around while the aroma of the soup spiralled around me, I discovered that most of the town's inhibitants were poor farmers. Some lived in small wooden houses not larger than our rented hotel room. Some lived in squatters, where I could see neighbours gather by the fence, perhaps discussing some interesting 'issues' of the day and children played alongside the water-filled walkway. They seemed to be oblivious of the opulent world outside. My aunt's maid later then headed for her village where her family lived, leaving the three of us on our own.

Headed back to the busy town of Surabaya, we stopped to have lunch at Ria Restaurant which offered us their very own delicious local dishes, better known as Nasi Padang. We spent the night at a not so luxurious hotel called Andita Hotel. But I praised their excellent services in providing us a 'home-feel' stay.

Pasar Turi and Pasar Atum were just a walking distance but we took a cab anyway. Decided to visit Pasar Turi first, we went for a shopping spree there. Sandals, scarfs, cow-leather bags, t-shirts, beads were among the things that could be found in our shopping bags. Not enough, we proceeded to Pasar Atum. In there, we went on again for another shopping spree. This time, they were cheap leather belts, cheap leather purses, more scarfs and more t-shirts. Funny how it seemed, although being horrified with our spendthrift manner, we just kept on buying and buying and buying. Sighing all the way that we had to squeeze ourselves among the throng of those who seemed to be people with manner like ours in order to get from one shop to another, I found myself sweating all over from head to toe. At last, after having enough with the 'confinement' in the overcrowded market, we decided to leave. Upon reaching the entrance, the sun had already descended and gone out of sight. I couldn't believe we had wasted almost 6 hours of our precious sight-seeing time in the market and nearly got ourselves bankrupt. But those worries vanished when we were taken by the locals to a market-like seafood restaurant, The SeaMaster. As soon as we reached our room at Andita Hotel, we cafefully re-arranged out the itinerary so that we would have time for sight-seeing (which we had wasted on shopping this morning).

A cab which had been pre-arranged the night before came to take us to Malang the next morning. It is a much cooler town situated approximately 340km from Surabaya. They grow apples here. Amazingly, they are sweet and 'crispy' and undoubtedly fresh. If other countries have theme parks, Malang also owns one. Jawa Timur Park, situated on a hilly terrain, not only offers a small and simple roller coaster, a swimming pool with a couple of fountains, and a ghost house, but some cultural objet d'art can also be seen around, such as miniatures of wayang kulit characters, statues of the heroes who died in battles in order to protect their district from being ripped and taken away by those ruthless imperialists and some old traditional houses lining along the hillcrest.

Feeling really exhausted, we had a simple dinner on our back from Malang and dozed off as soon as we reached our hotel room. When next morning came, we planned to fill up the day with a tour around Surabaya town. Actually, there were lots of different ways to get around in Surabaya, from the traditional becak (trishaw) to bemos (enclosed minibus), public buses and air conditioned cabs. So this time, we unanimously decided to try the trishaw. After a brief price bargaining with the trishaw driver, we were first taken to the Muzium Pahlawan (Museum of Heroes). By the roadside, we could see people lying around under bridges, only layers of torn boxes separated their bodies from the cold soil. These homeless seeked comfort and warmth only by covering themselves with thin old dirty sheets. Across the street I could see two young boys, one was playing a guitar and the other one was holding out his hands to passersby begging for 'rewards' for their street performance. I thanked God that I did not have to see the heart-wrenching scenes such as these back in my own country. We alighted from the trishaw when we reached the museum's pearl white gate. Some historical monuments around the museum's yard made the museum look more presentable.

Inside was a common view of a typical museum; replicas of tankers and jet fighters, lines of old weapons used in the battles, statues showing off traditional clothings during old days, slideshow flashing back the condition of Surabaya during wartime. Hanging high above on the museum wall was the slogan 'Merdeka atau Mati' meaning Freedom or Die. The slogan is cried out everytime they celebrate their Hari Pahlawan (the day to remember the heroes) which falls on November 10 every year.

We continued our tour by stopping at all monuments that could be seen around the town area, but the one that amazed me the mos t was the Sura Baya Monument. The trishaw driver who took us around further amazed me with his story on how Surabaya got its name. The story took place back in Majapahit time where the Raja of Majapahit saw a shark fighting with a crocodile while he was sailing to search for a new land. Being thought as a sign from God, he hence made a promise to name the land he would first set sail as Surabaya (sura means shark and baya means crocodile). The trishaw driver kept on with his story in a thick Indonesian accent. We scarcely understood most of the storylines, but so as not to hurt his feeling we just nodded all way.

Back in our hotel room, we packed up our things for the trip would end tomorrow and that we would be going back to Malaysia. Packing had never been this fun! Talking and laughing! Looking at the heap of souvenirs we bought, we wondered how the hell had we gone through the squeezing and pushing and being pushed in the overcrowded market. We reminisced back the time when the three of us had given such a torturous time to the trishaw driver by asking him to take us around to every corner of the city (which was not in the plan during the bargaining). We giggled at the fact that the Chinese in Indonesia conversed with each other in national Indonesian language instead of their own.

The next morning, Surabaya would be another remarkable land I had been to. An hour before departing from Juanda International Airport, Surabaya, I did the last thing I wished to do - I had a bowl of bakso.

Sang Nila Utama Was Here

Singapore, was described as 'Pu-luo-chung' (Island At The End of a Peninsula) by the Chinese, who first discovered the island. However, little is known about the island's history at this time. As recorded in the Malay Annals, in ancient times, Singapore was known as 'Temasek', a Javanese word for Sea City. Sometime in the 11th century, Singapore was again discovered by Prince Sang Nila Utama of the Sri Vijaya Empire who sighted a mystical beast which he later learnt was a lion. He then decided to name the island "Singapura" which in Sanskrit means Lion (Singa) City (Pura).

I stood infront of the Merlion statue, one of the world's famous icons. I flipped through the guidebook I had bought while my friend was busy taking a few shots of the statue. According to the book, the fish tail of the Merlion symbolises the ancient city of Temasek and represents Singapore's humble beginnings as a fishing village (populated by a handful of fishermen and sea gypsies). Wow! Looking up, I glanced around and wondered how Singapore might have looked like long long time ago. Starting as a fishing village, Singapore is now a vibrant, modern city-state of 2.8 million people and has also become one of Asia's economic 'dragons' and the regional centre trade, transport, banking, tourism and communication. Thanks to Sir Stamford Raffles who had developed the swampy, thickly jungled island into a sophisticated country after he claimed Singapore for the British East India company in 1819.

Humming the country's national song 'Count on Me, Singapore', we walked to the Esplanade - Theatres On The Bay, Singapore's most exciting performance arts venue to date located at the waterfront overlooking Marina Bay and just a walking distance from the Merlion statue. The complex with its unique and distinctive dome-shaped roofs (dubbed 'the Durian' by locals) comprises a 1,600-seat concert hall, a 2,000-seat theatre and several recital rooms, theatre and rehearsal studios, as well as outdoor performing spaces. It also houses a mall, cosmopolitan food outlets and a library.

From Esplanade to Orchard Road and from Orchard Road to Sentosa, it had been an endless fun and excitement. At Sentosa, we visited the Underwater World and played volleyball on the Siloso Beach. We even managed to catch the pink dolphin show before headed back to the city centre.

Our last stop was Mount Faber which had presented us an excellent view of the Singapore city. As a compliment to the beautiful scenery that surrounded us, I took a few snapshots.

That’s the end of our sighseeing in Singapore. We headed to the Singapore Train Station right away to catch the Senandung Malam coach back to Kuala Lumpur where we belonged.