Thursday, 2 March 2006

Batam - Tg. Pinang - Bintan, Indonesia Escapade

I needed a short break. So I went to Batam, Indonesia. With a friend, of course.
It happened in February 2006, when a ‘devil’ kept appearing out of nowhere, whispering “you need a break, you need a break” to my ear, provoking and goading me to fill up the Leave Application form. Capitulated, I submitted the form to my boss one day. While I was waiting for her to read through the application form, my eyes wandered around her room and desk. Looked like she was also in dire need of a good holiday. She finally looked up and approved my application. Yeyyyyyyyyyyyyy!
On Friday we took a boat ride to Batam Island from Setulang Port, Johor Bahru. Batam, with its beautiful waterfront marina, golf course resorts, was a captivating and laid-back tropical island. At night, the town was alive and vibrant with its burgeoning nightlife and full-blown entertainment scenes. Since there was nothing much for us to do here in this ‘cowboy’ town, we packed up our things the next day and hailed a taxi. As kind as any other Indonesian drivers would be, he took us around the island for a sightseeing. Barelang Bridge was simply amazing. It was also known to be the most prolific one among all other connecting bridges around the island.

The Barelang Bridge, Batam

Showing a map of Batam to the taxi driver, he suggested that we should check out the nearby island, called Bintan. A boat ferried us to Tanjung Pinang and we stopped at a small restaurant to try out their savory ‘nasi padang’ for lunch. The food was marvelous! Splendid!
Bintan Island was even more pleasant than Batam especially the Northern part of the island. As this part of the island was primely preserved for tourists, one might get mistaken this place for a paradise sent to earth by the Almighty God.

Bintan

It was truely a superb trip to Paradise. I might not want to come here again (as I hate boat rides so much) but I can never forget its cool and refreshing salty air and appealing beaches.

Monday, 27 February 2006

Puteri Gunung Ledang : The Musical

When I was a child, Hang Tuah was my childhood dream. He was my hero. My earliest infatuation, err… so to speak! Then, as I was growing up, I dreamed of him no more. Well, don’t blame me. Blame it on the modern superheroes like Superman, Batman, Mr. Spidey and Cicakman (aiya, this one is so keding) for 'coming to life' to save the world… and the bottom line, to exhibit their classy underwears for the girls to see.


Hang Tuah did not wear underwears (I’m strongly confident that there’s no such thing as men’s briefs or women’s undies back in his era), and if he did have them, he wouldn’t be brazen enough to wear them on the outside. Imagine Hang Tuah wearing the underwears on the outside and the baju melayu on the inside, I would laugh myself to death. The old folks said, he fought the criminals with a keris called ‘Keris Taming Sari’ and with a little bit of silat here and there. My atuk said he was a handsome chap. Really? Would he have looked like Brad Pitt? Or George Clooney?

George Clooney / Brad Pitt + Silat = Hang Tuah = I don’t think so!


Hang Tuah left us a very long time ago. He disappeared, just like a gust of wind. No trace of him and no clue of where he had gone to. He should have at least told somebody so that the history could continue! I don’t like mysterious stories with hanging ends. He shouldn’t have killed Hang Jebat for that ruthless Sultan. And some more, he sacrificed his love for Gusti Puteri Retno Dumilah a.k.a. Puteri Gunung Ledang to the Sultan and even helped the Sultan in wooing the princess. Instead, he should have just booked a flight ticket to Caribean or gone cruising somewhere and have a nice holiday. Forget the stupid Sultan for a while. He had worked for him too much. He needed a break! 


Some people say he is just a legend, a myth, and I strongly agree with them that Hang Tuah is just a make-believe hero. If so, I praised the one who had lived in the past for creating such character. But how creative could a person from the past be that he could create such a legendary hero. Wow, he must be one teriffic story-teller back then!
Enough said, apart from everything people talked about the hero, I think he’s beautiful in his own way. The lives of Hang Tuah and Puteri Gunung Ledang were made immortilized by the musical theatre, Puteri Gunung Ledang : The Musical. The show was staged at Istana Budaya Kuala Lumpur for two consecutive seasons. I attended the one shown during Season One while my mom, sister, brother and aunt went for the show in Season Two.
The theatre focussed on the triangle love between Gusti Puteri Retna Dumilah (Puteri Gunung Ledang) played by Datin Tiara Jacquelina, Hang Tuah played by Stephen Rahman-Hughes and Sultan Mahmud played by Adlin Aman Ramlie. So far this is the only Malay theatre that I enjoyed so much. Datin Tiara was graceful and beautiful, not a surprise after all. But that Stephen Rahman, I never knew he’s awesomely handsome! Hee… hee… hee…

Saturday, 25 February 2006

TV3's Explorace 3

I didn’t quite make it to the final round of the audition of the Explorace Season 3 - The Extreme Journey which was brought by the TV3 and Malaysia Airlines in 2006, let alone to become the winner of this highly publicised race.

The lady in green T is Shasha Bashir, the host of the TV programme


Sunday, 1 January 2006

Welcoming 2006

2005 went by so fast just like a snap of fingers.
Fun. Hurt.
Love. Un-love.
Making up. Breaking up. 

Been in love. Been out of love.
So many things had happened. So many too didn't happen.
So many things to remember, so many things to forget.
Too many memories to cherish, too much amount of pain to suffer.
I stood here on my balcony looking up at the dark sky waiting till the last tint of moonlight disappeared. And I waited for the sun to rise the next morning.
To the rising sun I said, “Welcome 2006. I have high hopes for a good life this year”

Friday, 30 December 2005

The Himalayan Kingdom Of Nepal

“Come here and have a look at Mount Everest?”, the flight captain’s remark had gotten me off my seat. I worked my way to the other side of the aircraft and found an empty seat close to where he was standing. As I slowly lowered my body down onto the seat, my eyes tried to focus at the direction of his finger which was pointing towards the range of mountains far away in the horizon. My eyes wandered from one snow covered peak to another, bedazzled by the white beauties protruded from the cotton-like clouds. He added that in Sanskrit, the Himalayan meant ‘Abode of Snows’ and was the prime attraction for visitors to Nepal.
Nepal has existed as a kingdom centered in the Kathmandu Valley for more than 1,500 years. The country is known for its majestic Himalayas and has nine of the fourteen peaks in the world over 8,000 meters, including Mount Everest and Annapurna I. Eventhough the exact origin of the name of the country is uncertain, but the citizens of Nepal believe that it is derived from Ne (holy) and Pal (cave). Nepal, settling between China on the north and India on the east, south and west (between the latitudes 26 ° 22′ and 30 ° 27′ N and longitudes 80 ° 40′ and 88 ° 12′ E), is commonly divided into three physiographic regions — the Hill, Mountain and Terai Regions, bisected by Nepal’s major river systems. The Kathmandu Valley, located in the Hilly Region, is the only fertile and urbanised area in this country. Contiguous to the Hilly Region, The Mountain Region contains the highest mountain in the world - Mount Everest (pronounced as Sagarmatha in Nepali).


In the coldness of December 2006, I set my feet on the land of Nepal for the very first time. The land that I had always dreamed of exploring. Nepal ’s weather is generally pleasant and fresh especially during winter. There are four climatic seasons: Spring from March till May, summer from June till August, autumn from September till November and winter from December till February. Pulling out a thick knitted sweater from the suitcase, I wrapped it around myself and waited for the travel agent to show up. My friends who came along started complaining how damning cold it was. In the waiting crowd, I saw a handsome Nepali man waving a banner bearing my friend’s name. Assuming he could be the travel agent, we went directly to him, introduced ourselves and we got acquainted in no time. A warm and flowery welcome somehow alleviated the bitter coldness of the air. 
Nepal’s indigenous population consists of two major groups:
·    The Indo-Nepalese - whose ancestors migrated into the country from the south. They speak Sanskrit-derived languages and are strict adherents to Hinduism. Nepali, the official language, is derived from Sanskrit. Differences within the Indo-Nepalese group are marked more by caste (a system of social hierarchy) than by ethnicity.
·    The Tibeto-Nepalese - whose ancestors entered Nepal from the north. Although most of the Tibeto-Nepalese speak Nepali, each ethnic group also has its own language. While the majority of Nepali people practice Hinduism, the official religion, a strong shamanist element remains in the religious practices of many Tibeto-Nepalese ethnic groups. The Tibeto-Nepalese group comprises several different ethnic groups including Thakali, Newar, Bhutia, Sherpa, Gurung, Magar, Tamang, Rai, and Limbu people.

Although centuries’ long intermingling between the two groups has occurred, cultural, linguistic, and religious differences still exist both between and within the two groups. Hinduism and Buddhism constitute two major religions of Nepal sharing between them some 86.5 and 7.8 percent of the total population respectively. Both these co-religionists are blended together by a sense of fellow-feeling and bonhomie. It is particularly displayed in their worship of common deities and joint celebration of many festivals belonging to either religion or culture. There is also a small Muslim population mainly located in the Tarai.
Well, well, well… Indo-Nepalese, Tibeto-Nepalese. Hmmm… that explains why I saw fine complexion and mixtures of skin colours. Some were as fair as the Chinese and some could be described as true Indians. Most of the women are undeniably pretty, demure and exotic. Va va voom! I suppose I need not have to elaborate as the photo of the Nepali girls above clarifies all.
Five days in Nepal was a blessed exploration. What added flavour to our visit was the fine art of hospitality of the Nepalese, such as their form of greeting. The ‘Namaste’ greeting is performed by joining the palms together. We were very grateful to be driven around by perhaps the most diligent tourist driver on earth. I only knew him as Bir.
We were taken to the peak of Elephant Mountain (Haatiban Resort) where the intoxicating beauties of the Himalayan came into full view. Served with the addictive Massala tea, I surrendered myself to the freshness of Nepal air and enjoyed the moment of tranquility. Another highland we were taken to was Nagarkot that overlooked the Kathmandu Valley. Nestling 2,099meters above sea level, it commands a magnificent view of Manaslu, Ganesh Himal, Langtang, Gauri Shankar and Everest. Just about any place in Nepal can inspire artistic expression if your interest is photography, painting or drawing. Mountainscapes are, of course, popular and no wonder Nepal is known as ‘The Trekkers’ Paradise’.
Bir took us to Bhaktapur the next day. This ‘Home of the Past Kings’, founded by King Ananda Deva in 889 AD is one of three cities in Kathmandu Valley. The city is an inhabited museum of medieval charm as it preserves past glories and structures of the Malla rulers. The center area and main attraction in Bhaktapur is the Bhaktapur Durbar Square featuring the Lion Gate guarded by two enormous stone lions. Dominating the Square was the five-storied pagoda Nyatapola Temple built in 1702.Before the sun went down, we managed to explore the eventful Patan Durbar Square in Patan town and bought some pashminas (shawls). Some beautifully and richly crafted monuments were seen to decorate the Square.
Dinner was heaven. It was a magical experience of delicious traditional cuisine set in the charming ancient atmosphere of temple architecture. The restaurant was especially designed with varieties of wonderful dance programs. Grand dining with fine entertainment, what a great combination. We were somewhat amused with their many kinds of traditional dances. They were the Prayer Dance, Lakhe Dance, Peacock Dance, Elephant Dance and some others that required tongue twisting pronunciations. There are several regional variations in Nepali food, but one dish more than any other had come to characterize the country’s cuisine; dal-bhat-takari. Dal is lentil sauce eaten with the bhat (rice). Takari is a generic name for curry vegetable. It is often served with pickles called achar. But among all dishes, I tremendously enjoyed the Tibetan stuffed dumpling called ‘momo’. Simply delicious! Tantalizing! But I just couldn’t accept the awful sweet taste of paan, a typical South Asian mixture of chopped betel nuts and sweet masalas wrapped in betel leaf, served after meal.
Mind you, people here use only their right hands for eating, handling and passing foods or drinks. The customs of Nepal are very complex matter of superstitious, traditions and beliefs, closely intertwined with religions and races. It was reflected during our visit to our travel agent’s office. We were told to remove our shoes before entering. Bir said “If you are invited into a home or office, be sure to remove your shoes. It is also believed a bad sign if sole of the shoe faces upwards”. I looked back at the shoe rack, hoping I had not left my shoes upside down. Bir added, “Never touch anything with your feet. It is considered an offence among Nepalese”. It is even quite difficult to capture the direct gaze of Nepali women as they are taught from childhood not to be forward or assertive. A married woman may be recognized by a redline of vermillion powder which runs along the part of the hair. 


We ‘celebrated’ our last day in Nepal at the street of Kathmandu, taking pictures with the people, watching the youngsters play cricket and bought few more souvenirs to bring home. We were later sent to the airport and Bir was rewarded with a fat tip. When it was time to go, before entering the departure hall, I slowly turned around to look at Bir who was standing outside waving at us goodbye. I saw Bir’s lips quiver a very slow ‘Namaste’, his palms were joined together.  And I replied the same way.
‘Namaste’

Tuesday, 27 December 2005

Clicking All The Way


I always have my 7.1 Megapix Sony camera along with me. Whenever I go out of the house, I will go “click” and “click” and “click”… so dear family and friends, please bear with me. This is just another passion I am developing.

Tuesday, 13 December 2005

A Granny and A Sewing Machine

It was not long after my Uwan (grandma on mom’s side) passed away. Today, at about 10.00am, I received a call from dad telling that his mother had followed suit. I called this grandma of mine, Tok.
I remember, when I was a kid, Tok used to sew me dresses which I always refused on wearing them. But she never stopped sewing. The true fact was, I really liked all those dresses she made for me. Despite being made of cheap cloths, they were amazingly soft and comfortable. What made me turn my head away from those handmade dresses was that they were so old-fashionedly designed. I so wanted to be classy and updated with the latest fashion designs that I forgot the word ‘appreciation’ could bring so much joy to someone’s life.
One day, Tok came into my bedroom while I was sleeping and softly put a very fine dress next to my pillow. It was green in colour. When I woke up, I touched the soft fabric and suddenly I felt I had touched her heart instead. She saw me doing that and I felt a little bit embarrassed. She stood at the foot of my bed watching me for a few seconds more and when I turned my head away, she left the room and closed the door behind her. Closing my eyes I remembered Tok had pricked her fingers many times while sewing those bloody old fashioned dresses. Last night she pricked her finger again and spilled blood on her batik sarong. But she just kept that smile pinned on her face and said that she was alright. When I asked why did she want to do all this to me, she simply said “What else can I do? I’m old. I can only sew to show how much I love you. If I’m young and strong, I would have carried you all the way to school everyday so that your feet wouldn’t get dirty“. Tok added, “When we were babies, we all wore white plain rectangular cloths as diapers (the Malays call it lampin). There was not so much of fashion about it. But the things that counted so much were how your mother wrapped you up so that you would feel comfortable and how your mother tried to find the best soft cloths as possible so that the material would not chafe your delicate skin”. I carried her words to bed.
That morning when I woke up with a green dress next to my cheek, I pondered on one thing. Why do I care so much about fashion? Am I too influenced by those fashion victims out there? Have I forgotten how to appreciate? It came to me then that it mattered nothing that the dresses she made were not fashionable or not up-to-date. What mattered the most was the affection she had for me which she showed by sewing all those clothes and having her fingers pricked for dozens of times. It was a matter of how a simple thank could make a lot of difference. Tok taught me how to appreciate.
Slowly, I pushed the door of my bedroom open. There, I saw her busy sewing another dress. I walked out of the room in that green dress and stopped infront of her bent body. She looked up and I could see hidden tears at the back of her eyes threatening to spill out. I hugged her and said thank you. She hugged back and said ‘That green dress looks perfect on you. I’m making you another one’.
Now Tok has gone. So has her sewing machine. But the memories of her will forever live.
Tok, May Allah bless you. I’ll recite Surah Yassin for you often, insyaAllah. Al-Fatihah.