freakshow-on-legs

Words of Wisdom

2005-09-14T13:59:00.000+08:00

Cowboy Caleb is on my blogroll, as a very interesting read. Sometimes irreverent, sometimes adoring (ahem, not adorable).

And sometimes wise.

Excerpts from "Guide To What You Should Not Be Doing With Your Life"

[2] Do Not Study That Which Your Mother Told You Not To
Instead listen to your mother. Your mother is always right. Why? Because 10 years from now when you’re a bitter and frustrated IT Consultant who could have been a doctor/lawyer/accountant, your mother will tell you “I TOLD YOU SO”.

[4] Do Not Buy A Car Unless You Have A House
Instead of buying that sweet ride, why not use the deposit as a downpayment on a 4-bedroom flat or apartment instead? Property appreciates in (in most cases) value but a car will always be a losing deal.

[7] Do Not Stop Learning
Just because you’re no longer in school doesn’t mean you should stop learning. Read wikipedia. Visit the library. There is nothing worse then a boring person at lunch who doesn’t know anything about what’s going on in the world today and cannot hold a conversation about multiple topics. Grow as a person.

Bravo!

I've been updating my other blog

2005-09-14T13:55:00.000+08:00

I got bored of cataloguing the insignificant events in my meaningless life, so I got back to updating my other blog (which I stopped in March this year).

Expect fewer postings here and more there.

(Re-)introducing: http://india-aviation.blogspot.com/

Ok ok, don't panic, I'm not in the midst of depression or anything like that; life is good, but damn sian, leh!.

Nothin's fer free.

2005-09-02T18:10:00.000+08:00

Over the past couple of months, I've had a few missed calls on my mobile phone, from a strange number that I deduced was in China. I didn't know anyone there, so it was even more puzzling. Like most people, I called back the number, only to be greeted by a recorded message in Chinese, which I didn't understand. I guessed the message said something to the effect of: "This numberis not in use", so it was all the more intriguing.

But last week I got an SMS message in Chinese from another China number. This was the message:

你好!这里是香港中兴集团深圳总代理您的手机中了中兴集团二等奖16.8万美元请以+861348953124陈先生

I ran this through babelfish (oh the hack I had to do to get this from my phone to my laptop in ASCII and to convert that to unicode!), and it came out as:

Hello! Here was the Hong Kong resurgence group Shenzhen general agent your handset has hit resurgence group second prize 168,000 US dollars please by +861348953124 Mr. Chen

Right.

Then I asked a couple of my colleagues at work to translate it for me, and they told me that I had apparently won some money (probably $168,000) and I was to call the number given to collect it. The word "SCAM" ran through my mind, and I quickly forgot it.

Then yesterday's newspaper carried this story. To quote:

Departing from the initial trick of sending text messages to inform mobile phone users that they had won a lottery prize, the fraudsters have also spawned novel ways to perpetrate their scams. Now, they also use missed calls to trick the victims into calling back, and a pre-recorded message — similar to the ones in the SMS scams — greets those who do.

To claim the lottery prize, the conmen would say, winners have to first pay a "government tax" of a few thousand dollars.

Behold: the new Nigerian scam.

Mumbai reloaded

2005-09-02T17:35:00.000+08:00

Continuing from my last post on Mumbai.

I had made a date with one of my ex-colleagues from SIA. That's a story by itself. I first met Ninaz almost 14 years ago, when I was signing up to my scholarship bond at the Singapore Airlines office in Mumbai. She was the witness to the contract when my dad and I signed it, together with the then GM of SIA India. We didn't keep in touch (had no reason to really), but for some reason, the name stuck in my head. I reconnected with her a few years after I joined the airline. At that time I was working on a project to re-vamp the entire IT infrastructure of the airline outside Singapore. Ninaz was my designated contact at Mumbai and over a year, I worked with her off and on, and spoke to her perhaps a hundred times over the phone.

We finally met again (after 14 years!) this time I was in Mumbai, when I walked into her office and introduced myself. We had a great time chatting for over an hour and catching up. She offered to help me with my shopping for the bhel puri, and we made this appointment.

So we had some coffee and some chaat at the hotel, and she took me around the back streets of Colaba to one of her favourite snack shops, where I picked up the dry bhel and some chaklis for snacking. We chatted some more, and then she left for home. I walked back to the hotel, stopping briefly to pick up a shimmery party top for Sa. Clothes are expensive in India these days.

Then back to the hotel, packed up, and left for the airport and its dingy executive lounge. It was back to Singapore for me, and for once, apart from the fact that my wife was there, I didn't feel like returning.

myBBCplayer

2005-08-30T16:03:00.000+08:00

I don't know how I missed this news release from last weekend, but when I saw it today, I just had to blog it. Reuters says:

"[The BBC,] the publicly-funded broadcaster is testing software called MyBBCPlayer to let users download its TV and radio programing, and plans to use its powerful presence to take its place among Internet media giants like Google and Yahoo."

According to this article and others, the BBC will launch the service to allow subscribers to download current audio and video broadcasts to their computers, PDAs, PMPs and mobile phones. Presumably this will be a free service (at least for UK residents). There is evidence to show that there is a significant amount of demand that the BBC website has experienced with regard to downloading media. There was their experiment with offering 9 of Beethoven's symphonies for a period of a week. During that time there were 1.4 million downloads. Similarly, following the London bombings, there were a whopping 60 million requests for their archived video footage.

This is an organisation that really understands how to meld together old and new media. They were among the first to offer RSS feeds of their news articles, among the first mainstream media to offer podcasts of selected programming. As a highly respected news outlet, they will be ideally placed to satisfy the great demand for fresh programming, news or otherwise, with their renowned selection of news programmes, documentaries, sitcoms and comedies.

It's not hard to envision a point a few months from now, when you can wake up in the morning, sync your video iPod (coming soon!) or your Zen Vision with all the audio and video feeds that your PC has been collecting overnight, run for your train and watch the hour old news on your handheld. Or catch the latest episode of 'Doctor Who' or 'Titty Bang Bang' (ahem!).

What's more interesting is that they also plan to start offering paid downloads of popular music via the BBC site, a la Yahoo! Music and iTMS. UK media companies have cried foul over this aspect of the strategy, claiming that the BBC with its immense 3 billion pound public funding and reach will unfairly encroach on the private sector. This is certainly a fair point. But it may only be valid until 2012.

The BBC's loss of market share to multi-channel television and new digital radio stations has provided fuel to those who want its public funding to be cut or shared with other broadcasters. It has to cope with the real possibility that its public funding (from "TV Licenses") will be trimmed or removed entirely following a review in 2012, and that it will have to rely on money from (horrors!) commercial advertising and other sources.

It's against this backdrop that this move from the Beeb makes sense. Paid downloads of content licensed from other providers as well as a combination of free and paid downloads of its own content will represent a new source of revenue that it can use to offset any loss in income from licensing, thus transforming it to a rather strange creature, answering both to its political masters and the paying public. It could also silence the segments of the British public that resent subsidising the cost of providing news to the rest of the world.

It can be argued that the BBC may eventually restrict its content from those outside the UK by a payment model, a move that will undeniably upset many and eventually diminish the international reach of the respected broadcaster. The effect on the quality and political tilt of its programming, given its changed priorities, will be tougher to predict.

But for heaven's sake, "myBBCplayer"? Couldn't they have picked a better name? The "my" prefix is so 1999...

Back from Mumbai

2005-08-29T15:22:00.000+08:00

Mumbai is an amazing city, and I'm ashamed I haven't known it better. For 15 years, I stayed not 200 kilometres away, and over the 29 years of my life I must have visited it 20-30 times. But this trip was the first time I felt the pulse of the city. A pulse that races along at double-speed, threatening to leave behind anyone who can't keep up with its pace.

So many interesting experiences this time.

Mumbai suffered the brunt of the devastating floods that hit Maharashtra state in July this year. Over 3 to 4 days, hundreds of people died, there was millions of rupees worth of damage to property, and people's lives and livelihoods were affected. And all this happened 3 weeks prior to my trip there (and inspired much 'mirth' in the office).

But stepping into Mumbai in August 2005 is like stepping into Mumbai in August 2004. There is no evidence of the floods: the same sights, the same smells, the same sounds and the same feeling of being back in the most exciting city in the world. Streets were crowded, road side vendors selling 'paan' (betel leaf based mouth freshener) and pav vadas (something like a potato burger) and ganna (sugar cane juice), kids playing cricket, the innumerable cars and buses and people filling the streets and coalescing into one being.

This time around I managed to re-connect with a few people I knew, and I got from each of them their stories of how they coped in the floods.

Stories like how families on upper floors of buildings graciously welcomed strangers into their homes, fed them and cared for them for 2 nights, or how young poverty-ridden boys took it upon themselves to help the rich car owners back home by stopping them in the middle of the road to give them directions on the best (least flooded) route home, or how random people walked around giving food packets (prepared at home) to the cold, wet and stranded.

I heard how my cousin (and countless others), stranded miles away from home, had to walk through chest high water for hours on end to reach home. Water that literally had unmentionable things floating in them. And how my grandma, stranded alone at home with no running water and no electricity, decided to spend that evening and the next day gossiping with the neighbours, trying not to worry about her daughter, grand-daughter, grand-daughter-in-law and great grandson.

Mumbai 2005 gave us no shortage of stories to bandy about, each of them simultaneously heart warming, enthralling and inspiring. I raise my hat to all of you.

This time in Mumbai, we finished our work fairly quickly - what was originally planned to be 3 days got reduced to a day and a half. Not due to any efficiency on our part - it was more due to us getting to exasperated with the proceedings that we strangled all the decisions we needed out of our bosses there. That's a pretty good way to work I think.

So on Tuesday afternoon, I returned to the hotel at 2 pm, and after a quick visit to my airline office to change my ticket, found myself back on the mean streets, armed with a small amount of cash I had had the presence of mind to change, and a shopping list from the wife.

The shopping list:
1. Real Paan
2. Dry Bhel Puri and other snacks
3. Amitabh Bachchan DVDs (3 in 1)

Having already made discreet enquiries, I knew where to get the DVDs. Well roughly where. Walking around the Fountain area, I came across tens of vendors selling brand new bestsellers (and not so new potboilers) on the pavement. With prices ranging from Rs. 10 (S$ 0.40) to Rs. 200 (S$ 8.00), it was a fraction of the prices back here. However, my objective was still the DVDs. I asked around, and was finally directed to a by lane at the back, where there were a couple of vendors selling "Visual Basic 5" and "1001 Free Fonts". With not much hope left, I asked one of these guys (whom I will call Ram), and he looked around discreetly and pulled me along to a tiny shop about 20m further down. Ram then pulled down a black plastic bag and showed me at least 100 DVDs, each loaded with between 2 and 4 bollywood films. 10 minutes of browsing yielded good results (4 DVDs with 12 movies), and after a spot of bargaining (I reduced the total price from Rs. 720 to Rs. 600) I was done.

It was then that Ram pulled me towards him and whispered in my ear, "Aapko triple chahiye?". I gently disengaged myself from his clutch, smiled back at him, said "Nahi!", and walked back with a slightly more than gentle pace.

A safe distance away, and clutching my own tiny black plastic bag, I chanced upon an ancient looking man sitting on the pavement with his magic 'paan' kit arrayed before him. I have this theory that for good 'paan', one must always buy from old Muslims, and this gentleman (Iqbal) met both criteria. The only problem in communicating with him was that he was hard of hearing (and a little senile), he only spoke Urdu, and my realisation that there is a lot of 'paan' jargon. Still, with the help of one of his side kicks, I managed to convey that I wanted 10 sweet paans to take overseas. I chose Banarasi 'paans' over Calcutta 'paans' after some careful consideration. My only reason for that was that B comes before C.

Watching him make the paans was an exercise in patience, and watching him gave me a strange sense of peace. It was obvious that this old man enjoyed his art and the amount of care and love (yes, love) that he put into it was charming. Ten minutes later, and Rs 50 lighter, I carried a small bag of 10 'paans' back to the hotel and straight into the fridge.

Part 2 soon.

A Long Hiatus

2005-08-29T15:13:00.000+08:00

I have some faithful readers, one of whom checks my blog everyday. It's indeed very flattering to have anyone visit your blog out of anything less than familial obligations or out of compulsion by me; so when I come across ardent followers, I take their feedback seriously.

And thus spake they last night:

"K, you haven't blogged since you left for your India trip. What's up with that? Don't you know we check your blog everyday hoping for a new pearl of wisdom, a new perspective, a new slice of the lemon that life is handing you?"

It touched a chord within my heart. I felt I had let them down.

Dear readers, I thank you for your patronage. Regular service will be resumed shortly.

Enough with the swimming jokes already!

2005-08-18T18:42:00.000+08:00

I'm off to Mumbai this Sunday for 4 days. It's a business trip and I'll be accompanied by 3 of my Singaporean colleagues.

For one of them, it's her first trip to India, and like most Singaporeans, she is naturally paranoid - "Can I drink the water there? Can I get a taxi easily? Will it be dirty? Will the food be ok?" and the like. This I can forgive - it's a fairly common reaction, when you're from squeaky clean Singapore and your only impression of India is from what you see in the news and on programmes like "The Amazing Race".

What I can't stand is people (like one other person on my team) who visit India at least once every 2 months, and go around making jokes on needing a raft there or learning to swim or carrying a big umbrella (all in light of the recent floods). Once is ok for a laugh. But doing it again and again grates on you.

It is especially insensitive and stupid when you do it in a meeting with me (an Indian) present and expect me to laugh along. It borders on ridiculous when you walk up to my cubicle, grin ear-to-ear and ask me if I need a life jacket, and patronisingly advise me not to drink the water there.

Granted, India has a long way to go in cleanliness (and that's putting it lightly), granted even that dozens of people have died in the past few days from leptospirosis (the mini-epidemic is now in its decline). But for heaven's sakes read the news, you people! The floods are over. The city is back to normal. The clean foreigner-friendly 5-star hotels you will be staying in will do all they can to make sure you're safe - and as their customer service is far better than in Singapore, you will be well taken care of. You don't eat street food here anyway, and you drink out of sealed bottles, so what's going to happen?

I mean no disrespect to the dead, and my heart goes out to their families, but put the damn thing in perspective - 200 people out of a city of 12 million - and GROW UP. And these people who died were from the slum areas.

Sorry, I just had to let it out. Bad day today.

I heart Lucy Kellaway

2005-08-18T09:49:00.000+08:00

Sometime ago, I used to subscribe to the Financial Times. There were three reasons for this:

I could avail of a student discount which, at 44 cents a day, made the FT cheaper than the Straits Times. (And with 10 times as much content as the ST.)
Reading the FT made me feel important and accomplished. (Though I quickly realised that, at $4 per day, the real price of the FT after my student discount ended outweighed my self-esteem.)
It had some seriously delightful (and some delightfully serious) articles and supplements: How to Spend It, Martin Lukes and Lucy Kellaway.

Now that I'm no longer a student, I've stopped receiving the FT. And I miss it. I miss reading about yachts that cost a million pounds, and diamonds baubles that cost half as much, and flimsy women's clothing that cost hundreds of pounds (if not thousands), and I miss laughing at them.

But most of all I miss Lucy Kellaway. For those not in the know, Lucy Kellaway is the FT’s management columnist. I've followed her weekly Monday column as it poked fun at management fads and jargon and celebrated the ups and downs of office life. Consider her take on the recent fad of 'corporate story-telling':

"When I first came across the corporate storytelling craze about six or seven years ago, I thought it was a joke. (Which, on second thoughts, doesn't set it apart from other management trends. I also suspected knowledge management was a joke, and total quality management, too. I'm sure I would also have thought six sigma funny if I had ever had the first idea of what it actually was.)"

I missed reading Lucy, and her columns on the FT online are subscription-protected (boo!). I missed her so much, that this week I called the FT and enquired about subcription rates. $550 per year meant the rates had come down to about $2 per day, but I was still reluctant to spend so much money so fast.

So I set about searching for any of her articles that may have made it into the non-protected online wilderness. So I Googled "Lucy Kellaway" column and was greeted by a surprisingly large number of articles republished (and in some cases, rebutted) elsewhere.

Encouraged I had another brainwave. Realising that my company has a corporate subscription to Lexis Nexis, I searched that database for articles by Lucy K. And I am happy to announce that I now have a file that contains all of Lucy's articles in 2005. That should keep me occupied for the next few days. After that I'll download some more and be occupied for a few more weeks.

But eventually I'll probably give in and get the newspaper after all. There's a certain charm to opening a fresh paper in the morning, folding it to page 9, and reading it on the morning bus to work. I may even read something useful that way.

I'll leave you with another snippet from May this year with reference to a column in the Harvard Business Review bemoaning the dumbing down of management.

"This article complains that employees are being treated like infants and it is time to treat them like grown-ups.

My analysis of what has gone wrong with management is just the reverse. There has been a mighty dumbing up of management and management thought in recent years. The simple and impressionistic is made into the complex and scientific. It has resulted in the most elaborate time-wasting nonsense. And to the extent to which employees are being treated like children, I can't see anything wrong with that. In my experience, children have very little patience with doing anything at all unless they can see a clear purpose."

And finally her hilarious deconstruction of Accenture's 2002 Annual Report. On the word 'Deliver':

This verb is straight in at number one. If you think "delivery" is something that involves a truck, and which Ikea charges for, you are sadly out of date. Accenture delivers all manner of things, none of which requires a truck or even a bicycle. "Innovation Delivered," it says on the cover, which sounds splendid and is ambiguous enough to be unchallengeable.

Inside, there are five D-words in one short paragraph. Under the heading "Global Strategic Delivery Approach," we learn that "the ultimate goal is to deliver price competitive solutions." This is done through "a global network of delivery centres," which "enhance the ability to deliver results." This sounds a bit circular—but maybe that's the point.

There are also more advanced grammatical forms—deliverables, and delivering on something. The grocery van delivers on Tuesday; Accenture "delivers on great ideas."

Sniff Sniff

2005-08-16T20:16:00.000+08:00

It was 10:10 pm. Sa and I were sitting across from each other at a table, with tears in our eyes, sniffling and struggling to control ourselves.

No we weren't fighting.

It was all because of the Hatyai Devil Chilli Chicken - one of the spiciest and tastiest Thai dishes we've eaten - at Nid's place. A green gravy with pieces of chicken floating in it garnished with red chili padi (a small but powerful chili pepper), it was a dish we ordered very ambitiously (with a touch of foolhardiness) along with some garlic baby kailan (fear not, they're just greens) and rice. As soon as it landed on our table, I took a sip of the gravy from the tip of my spoon, and immediately reached for my lime juice.

In a mirror image of my move, Sa reached for her glass of iced green tea; and for the next twenty minutes, we laboured our way through the dinner, the food getting less spicier along the way, and a lot tastier, and going down easier. Of course, the cold drinks did help soothe the tongue :)

We rolled out of the restaurant happy and sated. Final bew: $24.50.

We're discovering new food options near our place, after bumping into a foodie friend who helped give us recommendations. Over the past week, we've had rice porridge (simple gruel) with veggies, interesting Cantonese food, and we've yet to try another Chinese restaurant nearby. Good recommendations, and a welcome change from our default haunts: Chutney Mary and Ganesh Vilas (the erstwhile Mantra Place).

Discovery's back home

2005-08-09T22:43:00.000+08:00

Well back on Earth at least. Bad weather in Florida forced NASA to abandon Cape Kennedy (aka Cape Canaveral) as the landing site, and switch to Edwards AFB on the West Coast.

After 219 orbits around the Earth, Commander Eileen Collins piloted Discovery back on the ground. Actually, the auto-pilot piloted the spacecraft for the first part of the descent, but Cmdr Collins took over for the last 2, most crucial minutes. If you think landing a space shuttle is like landing an aircraft, look at this page. Well done, Cmdr Collins.

Now that Discovery has landed so far from home, what's next for the orbiter? Shuttle engineers will install a large cone on the tail that smooths the airflow around the orbiter while it is being carried on a 747. Yes, a special 747 aircraft will carry the shuttle back to Kennedy.

(image from http://www.air-and-space.com/Discovery%2020001030-1102.htm)

Have a safe trip home, Discovery.

How to fold a shirt

2005-08-09T13:33:00.000+08:00

I came across this a few weeks ago, but felt compelled to search for it this morning, when Sa and I were folding the freshly washed laundry.

Presenting: How to cleanly fold a t-shirt in 3 seconds (yes really). The picture leads to a flash animation demonstrating this technique.

This is no trick - it really works. 'Readymade' has analysed it with scientists from MIT, no less, and ... it's legit. This is what happens when you fold it.

... from www.readymademag.com

Fashion faux-pas

2005-08-08T19:08:00.000+08:00

An epidemic is sweeping through Singapore! We are under attack! Something has taken over the fashion sense of (otherwise well-dressed) Singaporean women!

Ok - I'm done with the alarmist exclamation marks, but I'm serious when I say that there is a new item of ladies' outerwear that has to be the fashion faux pas of the century (and we're just 5 years into it).

It's an outer-bra! It's a sweater! Behold the 'mini-cardigan'! (I came up with the name 'mini-cardigan' after careful research by me and Sa both showed that shop-owners don't know what this monstrosity is called).

This item of fashion indecision seems to have exploded onto the scene over the past few weeks, and I can't understand the point - do you wear it in case your breasts and arms (but not the rest of your upper body) feel cold? Or are you just not sure whether you need a sweater at all?

Ladies (those of you who read this), please take this as advice from a normal hot-blooded male. This piece of clothing does nothing to flatter you - neither your image, nor your taste.

All it does is to allow the makers of these cardigans hawk half the amount of processed wool / cotton for the same price or more, and double their profits.

But at least it's not this piece of fashion indecision.

I am such a space geek

2005-08-03T21:09:00.000+08:00

I just spent half an hour watching Steve Robinson on STS-114 get maneuvered into place under the Discovery space shuttle orbiting 300 km above the Earth at 8 miles per second, and successfully remove 2 pieces of filler material that threatened to allow the shuttle to overheat during re-entry.

This was on Nasa TV, by the way, with live video and complete audio feed of all the conversation between the crew on the ISS, those on Discovery, the Capcom in Houston and of course, Steve the EVA-er.

It surprised everyone that it was so easy - it looked (and probably felt) like pulling out a name card from between 2 rubber bricks using his fingers. Here's a screenshot (I cheated a bit though). It shows Steve holding the second of the pieces of filler in his right hand during his 4 hr 41 minute spacewalk.

This set of EVAs was unique in the sense that Steve was held in place by the robotic arm on the ISS, rather than maneuvring himself using a Manned Maneuvering Unit. This made his moving into place a little more tiresome and slow, but was probably safer for all.

When I was a kid, I first read of EVA in a book called 'The Hamlyn book of "What do you know?"', an excellent and fat book, which made me the geek I am today. And what really fascinated me about EVA was how the spacewalker would move in space. They didn't have MMUs in those days; all they had was a longish rod with tiny thrusters at each end. Since there's no (or little) inertia in space, they'd fire short bursts on the rockets to change their momentum and thereby move themselves around.

Naturally, this was dangerous; a misfire would mean the astronaut (or cosmonaut!) could get pushed out of control until the end of his tether, and possibly severing his tether and his oxygen feed.

Leaving him quite dead quite soon, and orbiting the Earth as a permanent souvenir of this planet's thirst for adventure and exploration.

Back at office today

2005-08-03T12:17:00.000+08:00

... and feeling much better, thank you.

I had better feel better, after a day and a half of these:

L-R: Paracetamol, Chlorpheniramine and Bromhexine

Art for sale

2005-08-03T12:05:00.000+08:00

Gangezs, famous for its inexpensive all-you-can-eat 'fine dining' ($7.90++ for a week-day dinner), and vaguely Czech sounding name has recently started selling amateur artists' works.

Yes, I realise they're amateur artists, but someone has to have a lot of chutzpah for trying to sell this for $180:

Cheap frame from Ikea: $8.00
Black marker pen: $1.50
Talent: $0.50
Person who would buy this at that price: Senseless

Um - anyone care to tell me which deity that might be?

Lost - part deux

2005-08-02T18:23:00.000+08:00

Someone at AXN clearly values my opinion on Lost... I discovered a large number of visitors referred here from AXN, and specifically this page. So whoever saw this, hello there!

And this is what I wrote.

I didn't manage to watch all 5 episodes (16 to 20) this last Saturday - I missed the first one. But to an engineer geek like me, episode 18 - Numbers - was amazing. Starting with Hurley winning a gruesome amount of money using the numbers 4, 8, 15, 16, 23 and 42, and ending with a close up shot of the same mysterious numbers cut into the hatch that was discovered buried in the sand.

The symbolism of the numbers crops up again and again in the show; each of the numbers appears - in dates, flight numbers, times, gate numbers, license plates etc. And the fact that this was the sequence that was transmitted from the island 16 years ago (there's that number again!) and which drew Danielle Rousseau and her companions to the island only serves to add to the mystery.

And for more intrigue, visit Oceanic Air, and explore the site. Don't miss the numbers in the boxes at the bottom of the page. There's more info there than meets the eye...

If there's anything about the show that bugs me, it's the fact that they've raised so many questions (and continue to do so) and provide so few answers, as if they're setting themselves up for Season 2. Given the show's success in the US and its popularity around the world, I can see their point, but guys, would it hurt to at least tell us something?

Like - What is the monster/security device? What's in the hatch? Are there any more people on the island? Who spoke to Boone over the plane radio?

Please don't go the way of the X-Files, run circles around your audience for 5 years, and then let us down.

To leave you, here's a quote from Damon Lindelof (the show's co-creator):

I can say that there will be other mystery things arising that will make the 'monster' pale in comparison to what you're going to want to find out. We're still trying to be firmly ensconced in the world of science fact. I don't think we've shown anything on the show yet that has no rational explanation in the real world that we all function in. We certainly hint at psychic phenomena, happenstance and being in a place where they probably shouldn't be, but nothing is flat out impossible. There are no spaceships, there isn't any time travel.

If that doesn't whet your appetite, I don't know what will.

Warning: Disgustingness lies ahead

2005-08-02T13:22:00.000+08:00

So I've been coughing a bit, sore throat and 'viral infection' and all.

This morning, I had a pretty nasty coughing fit. I rushed to the bathroom and spat out the gob of phlegm into the toilet bowl. To my surprise I noticed that the phlegm floated on the water like a water lily.

This led to the question, is phlegm less dense than water? Google couldn't give me an answer, so I assume that no one has researched this topic.

Or it could just be that I have a phlegm-buoyant cough (rimshot!)

Don't say I didden warn you.

Doctor Wars

2005-08-02T12:22:00.000+08:00

I've been down with a cough since Sunday, and on Monday afternoon, finally decided to visit the doctor.

So 2:30 pm, I walk down to the 12th floor of my office building, and after a 10 minute wait (which I spend reading the Feb 2000 issue of 'Stuff'), Dr. C. Lim decides I've waited enough, and calls me in. Note though, while I'm waiting, there's no other patient in the waiting room, and no one walks out of the doctor's room before she called me in. In other words, she was probably napping for a while.

But she looks fresh and alent enough though. And after a cursory examination, in which I end up diagnosing what I have (and she takes my temperature and fools around with the stethoscope), I get an MC and the following medicines:

Augmentin (the inevitable antibiotic) 1 tab twice daily
Cirrus capsule (for blocked/runny nose) 1 tab every morning
Polarax (for what???) 1 tab every night
Korzen (for phlegm) 2 tabs thrice daily
Random cough medicine

I don't understand the Cirrus capsule though - it works for both runny as well as blocked noses? That's like an inverter? [Nose_condition = not (Nose_condition)]

Anyway, was back home early last evening - around 5 and took some rest. This morning too, I was feeling down and decided to take the day off again (the fact that I had a mid-year review with my boss had nothing to do with it, honest). So I went to another doc near my house (Raffles Medical Clinic's infamous Dr. O T Gan).

And after yet another wait, and yet another cursory examination (this time it was temperature, BP and stethoscope), he pronounced that I had a mild viral infection, and gave me the day off. He also asked me to describe my other medicines and declared that Dr C. Lim (of yesterday) had mis-diagnosed me and unnecessarily given me antibiotics.

I was to immediately stop yesterday's medicines, and take the new pills prescribed by him. Let the doctor wars begin!

But seriously, this is a pivotal moment in my hsitory with Singapore doctors - the first time a doctor has NOT prescribed me antibiotics.

But he did give me the following medicines:

Chlorpheniramine (for runny nose) 1 tab thrice a day
Paracetamol (for fever / pain, neither of which I have) 2 tabs thrice daily
Bromhexine (for phlegm) 1 tab three times daily
Random cough medicine

SO I have reached the following conclusion: I have a cough, a runny nose and have phlegm (both of which I can feel). Can't I diagnose this myself? Isn't it time we made these drugs available OTC, and reduced our doctor fees?

I shall ponder these, as I lie in bed this cool rainy Tuesday.

Bash.org - the site for much geek humour

2005-08-01T23:22:00.000+08:00

This is hilarious!

Nori123: You don't know jack shit
VioletSky: That's not true, I know him well
Nori123: Haha
VioletSky: I'm serious
VioletSky: Jack is the son of Awe Schitt and O. Schitt. Awe Schitt, the fertilizer magnate, married O. Schitt, the owner of Needeep N. Schitt Inc. They had one son, Jack. In turn Jack Schitt married Noe Schitt, the deeply religious couple produced 6 children
VioletSky: Holie Schitt, Fulla Schitt, Giva Schitt, Bull Schitt, and the twins: Deap Schitt and Dip Schitt. Against her parents' objections, Deap Schitt married Dumb Schitt, a high school drop out.
VioletSky: However, after being married 15 years, Jack and Noe Schitt divorced. Noe Schitt later remarried Ted Sherlock and, because her kids were living with them, she wanted to keep her previous name.
VioletSky: She was then known as Noe Schitt-Sherlock. Meanwhile, Dip Schitt married Loda Schitt and they produced a son of nervous disposition, Chicken Schitt.
VioletSky: Two other of the 6 children, Fulla Schitt and Giva Schitt, were inseparable throughout childhood and subsequently married the Happens brothers in a dual ceremony.
VioletSky: The wedding announcement in the newspaper announced the Schitt-Happens wedding. The Schitt-Happens children were Dawg, Byrd, and Hoarse.
VioletSky: Bull Schitt, the prodigal son, left home to tour the world. He recently returned from Italy with his new Italian bride, Pisa Schitt.
VioletSky: So there.
FiPo: LOL
Nori123: I have actually chortled coke through my nose

Marina Bay "rebranding"

2005-07-26T15:00:00.000+08:00

Well, I had to follow up my last entry with more details on this. AFP says:

SINGAPORE: After spending S$400,000 ($240,964) to come up with a suitable new name for the revamped downtown Marina Bay, Singapore has decided to stick to, well, Marina Bay, media reports said yesterday.

The city-state’s urban development authorities and global branding company Interbrand spent months deliberating over 400 potential names before settling on the original moniker, according to the Today newspaper.

The S$400,000 financed a massive branding exercise that involved market tests, focus group discussions and consultations with developers and the general public, Today said.

Finding the right name for the city-state’s revised downtown, which will include the much-debated resort casino, a new business district and swanky retail outlets, was a process akin to parents deciding on a name for their child, National Development Minister Mah Bow Tan.

“We started off with (the name) Marina Bay and after looking at everything, the name that really tugged at the heartstrings was in front of us,” Mah said.

“The name itself is not new, but what has been used informally so far has endeared itself to all parties.” Not suprisingly, many Singaporeans were quick to lambast the government’s latest publicity efforts as an utter waste of public funds.”

Singapore National Education

2005-07-26T14:50:00.000+08:00

Continuing with his hilarious series exploring Singapore's bizarre policies (and its makers), trends and events, mr brown presents Singapore National Education #108.

Excerpts:

#23. That Singapore may not be able to win any Olympic medals worth a damn, but by golly we are great at getting ourselves in to the Guinness World of Records, like for bursting 3,137 balloons in 10 seconds on 24 July 2005, beating the previous record set in Hong Kong, of 2,477 balloons in 10 seconds.

and

#25. That Singapore should try to be the Peanut Hub. Based on the Singapore peanut exchange rate, 1 peanut = S$600,000.
So the $400,000 rebranding exercise for Marina Bay (part of this project resulted in Marina Bay to be renamed... Marina Bay), it only cost 2/3 of a peanut.

Back to Sailing

2005-07-25T16:37:00.000+08:00

Ok - back to sailing. Last week, I blogged about how I started sailing. Unfortunately, the sailing pretty much ended there as well, until 2 weeks ago.

My boss planned a small get together on his small yacht for my team, so on a nice warm Sunday morning, the 7 of us went to Raffles Marina, dressed for a day out on the water. After a relaxed lunch, we climbed onto the boat around noon, and made our way out of the harbour, and into the calm waters off the west of Singapore.

Piloting a yacht is quite different from a dinghy such as a Laser. The principles of sailing are the same (the Bernoulli Effect), but it takes a little more to run a family sized yacht.

The first difference (aside from the size and the cabin) that I noticed was the impressive amount of instrumentation - a GPS, depth gauge, wind speed and direction meter, radios etc, and an iPod hooked up to a stereo. Gotta have some tunes. Another difference was the way the yacht was steered: on a dinghy we manually steer using the tiller connected to the rudder, but here there was a large steering wheel. Makes sense since it's probably hydraulically linked to the rudder - you'd need a lot of strength to steer a boat that large. The rudder could also be controlled by auto-pilot; cruise control for the high seas!

But the biggest difference by far was the fact that this boat had a total of 3 sails - the mainsail, a genoa and a gennaker. We started out with just the mainsail rigged, and using the motors to maneuver ourselves out of the harbour, but once clear, relied completely on the wind.

Well, to cut a long story short, we had a great early afternoon - walking around the top of the boat, learning the ropes and the winches. I really enjoyed the experience. But around 4 in the evening, it started getting cloudy and the wind completely stopped. For a few minutes we were completely motionless. Even when we rigged the gennaker, there was hardly any lift or drag generated, and we stayed put. Meanwhile, the clouds had been creeping up, and we started feeling a slight drizzle.

That drizzle suddenly and dramatically escalated into a full scale rainstorm, and over the next five minutes, visibility dropped to 20 meters, lightning nearby took out our depth gauge, and we had to scramble to pull down and stow the sails (lest the wind and rain catch them and the boat capsize), start the motors and try and find our way back home.

By now the rain was penting down, and for us sitting up top in our thin vests or t-shirts, it got very wet and painful very fast. Most of the crew (us!) took refuge in the dry cabin below while a couple of adventurous souls and the captain stayed up top. Myself? I chickened out for a while, but then returned up top.

We eventually did find land, and the rain did ease up slowly, but for about 30 minutes, it was quite scary - with thunder all around, and bolts of lightning threatening to strike us every minute. The fact that the mast was one solid piece of metal did nothing to ease our minds :)

And when we pulled back into the dock and were nice and tied up, all heaved a sigh of relief. It was scary, but a really exhilarating adventure. Time for me to restart my sailing lessons and move on.

Anyone with a spare boat to sell?

Lost

2005-07-25T16:04:00.000+08:00

I've just discovered 'Lost'.

Yes yes, I know it's been showing on Channel 5 and AXN these past few weeks, and I'm horribly behind the times. But in my defence, channel 5 was showing it at 10 pm on Thursdays - a time when I was on my way back home from the gym so I never did watch a single episode.

And everyone and their dog has been telling me that it's a great show (or that they've heard it's supposed to be a good show). So much so that I've been going round saying that it's supposed to be a good show.

So when I woke up on Saturday morning at noon (after a late late late night out) and turned on the TV, AXN had just kicked off its weekly 'Lost' marathon - 5 hours of 'Lost'. So this Saturday, I spent 5 hours in front of the TV, and watched episodes 11 through 15, and got hooked.

I also spent a large amount of time on Sunday reading synopses of the previous 10 episodes here. And I must admit, I did take a peek at the rest of the upcoming episodes too.

In my opinion, what makes 'Lost' good viewing is:

An interesting plot (castaways on a deserted island)
Characters with a tortured past (all revealed as the show progresses)
Lots of inter-character dynamics (for instance: love, hate, suspicion, pity - all between the same 2 persons!)
Incredible suspense on the nature of the threat on the island
Some supernatural (and religious?) imagery (which would work very well after the success of Dan Brown).

Can't wait for next Saturday.

Haiku Reviu: Maine Pyaar Kyun Kiya

2005-07-20T18:31:00.000+08:00

Felt obliged to write a haiku.

Anticipation built...
A lousy lousy movie.
Waste of twenty bucks.

Maine Yeh Film Kyun Dekha?

2005-07-20T13:42:00.000+08:00

When I walk into a Hindi movie, I'm usually prepared for the worst.

Fortunately, we appear to have had a pretty good screening mechanism, relying on a combination of online reviews and reviews from friends; our "signal to noise ratio" has been quite good this far. There have been a few stinkers - "Jaanam Samjha Karo", "Yaadein" and "Gadar" spring to mind, but on the whole, I have been enriched and entertained.

And then we went and spoiled our record.

One of Sa's friends sent her an SMS message on Saturday evening, highly recommending the new Salman Khan starrer - "Maine Pyaar Kyun Kiya" (the title was probably a take on his debut hit - "Maine Pyaar Kiya"). This was the first time she was recommending a movie to us, but her review was so glowing, we decided to check it out. Not to mention the fact that online reviews seemed to suggest it was worthy of a watch.

So on Monday night, after hastily gobbling down our dinner, we rushed down to Bedok, to see what everyone was talking about.

In short, the movie was a disaster. Remember, I'm usually prepared for the worst - this came close. The acting was over the top, the lyrics for the songs were ridiculous (more on that later), and the plot was, well, never mind. There has been only one movie that I've walked out of. This came close to becoming the second.

I rate Hindi movies on a scale of 1 - 10, starting at 0, and add points. This movie got 3 points: 2.5 of those for some rather silly jokes (add one brilliant one) in the first half of the film, and a half point for Sushmita Sen, looking amazing as ever.

And now the songs. You can check out the music here: Maine Pyaar Kyun Kiya.

Sample lyrics:

"Teri meri love story ka angle yaad karegi duniya pal pal,
Hey ruk jao sambhal jao, is angle mein hai triangle."

Of the 44 lines in this song, a full 32 (or 75%) are composed of these 2 lines. Song-writing must be the easiest job in the world.

Please don't watch it.

On learning to Sail

2005-07-15T11:05:00.000+08:00

I picked up sailing on a whim almost 2 years ago.

I had this image of windswept hair and rugged tanned bodies toiling away at ropes and winches, mostly garnered from watching shots of the Americas Cup. And I naturally thought - "Hmm, what better way to get legions of women looking adoringly in my direction?" Getting from that point to actually signing up for a course didn't take too long.

Three buddies of mine and I signed up at the Pasir Ris Sailing Centre and over a weekend, sat through classes, learnt about ropes and knots and winds and the rules of the sea. And at long last, we unloaded our 'Topper' class boats and sails, learned to rig them appropriately and headed out into the water. I must say it was one of the best experiences of my life.

It was also somewhat suicidal and foolhardy - I can't swim. I can't even float. So naturally, my life vest became my best friend as we went through the capsize drills and the three times that I capsized over the weekend.

Me sitting on my first boat (the Topper). As you can see, it's pretty small.

Of course, the realisation later that the 'Topper' class boat was made for 8-10 year olds did prick my ego somewhat. I dare say I picked it up pretty well (probably because I'm almost 3 times that age), and a few months later, the same buddies of mine and I attended a conversion course for the 'Laser' class.

The Laser is what is used in Olympic and competitive solo sailing, and we could see why. For a single mast boat, it was amazingly fast and I can't fully describe feeling of the wind and spray on your face and through your hair as you catch the wind and hike over the edge of the boat.

All this was 18 months ago, and since then a few things happened. I got married, and so did two of my buddies. And all of a sudden priorities changed. I still wanted to go sailing again, but didn't have the guts to go it alone (I can't swim, remember?).

But now, we will probably go sailing next Sunday again. And that was because of an mind-altering experience I had this weekend (and also because our memberships to the sailing club expire in August).

More on that in my next post.

Back to the blog.

2005-07-15T10:58:00.000+08:00

Again a long break from blogging. I've been travelling a little, and been busy a lot.

This morning I received the perfect SMS to break my exile from blogging. This was after a friend of mine told me he was on his way to work, and followed that up with this gem:

Taxi approaching slows inexplicably to a crawl. He's within 25ft of me and is deliberately slowing to a snail's pace. I get in and realize why. He's just farted.

The Surrealist Compliment Generator

2005-06-29T11:12:00.000+08:00

I received a Surreal Compliment today:

Were giraffe's antennae to sprout from your barnacled elbows, one could but weep for the pretense of a fallen chamber pot.

And another [actually this is more apt for you, N]

An ocean-going tin of crosseyed mussels could never match the melodious burblings of your sister's husband.

All courtesy of the The Surrealist Compliment Generator

Strange Flash of the Day

2005-06-28T11:33:00.000+08:00

Have you wondered what happens when an extremely flexible woman in a bikini is dropped into a world of bubbles? So have I - numerous times...

Now, wonder no more!

Especially Voluble

2005-06-27T14:29:00.000+08:00

We had visited the outlet at Parkway Parade on Saturday to return a pair of jeans that Sa had picked up a few days earlier, and unwittingly walked into a maelstrom of primary colours, sequins and lace, and about a million women squeezed into an area the size of your average coffee outlet.

I heaved a heavy sigh when I saw the dreaded 4-letter word: Mango was having a SALE.

I'm happy to report that we managed to get a refund for the jeans, but in the process, my wallet was lightened much more. But I had a happy wife, and that's what counts, no?

But that's not the point of this blog. While imprisoned outside the Mango shop, I met another friend of mine who was similarly incarcerated. He had come over once he finished shopping for his new shirt, and on seeing me, called out - "Oy - neeyum maatindutiya?" ("Oi - you got stuck too?"). His wife had been sucked into the Mango vaccuum too, and we swapped stories outside.

There was this little girl standing by next to us, and we didn't bother her while she ate her Twisties. But I was surprised when she offered us one. Now you have to understand that in Singapore, no one offers strangers anything, leave alone strangers who are at least 20 years older than you, and of a different race. It made us raise an eyebrow (each); we politely declined, and resumed our chatting.

A minute later, she struck up a conversation. For us, having been in Singapore this long, striking up a random conversation is an alien phenomenon, and we didn't know how to respond. No one starts conversations with strangers here!

My friend, whom I will call RS recovered first and replied, and we chatted about all sorts of things from her age (she was 8), her school, classmates, and her birthday. She identified with our plight: her own mother was involved in the feeding frenzy inside, and I guess she could see the harassed and pitiful looks in our eyes.

At the end, RS and I decided to go for a coffee, and bid her farewell. While we were walking away, the little girl ran up to him, and wished him a Happy Birthday in advance! Very sweet, very voluble. I wish her the best in life, for lifting our day and warming our hearts.

Let them eat Bread

2005-06-27T09:53:00.000+08:00

You can tell I've been eating at Subway far too much.

But it's nice!

Haiku Reviu - Parineeta

2005-06-24T10:40:00.000+08:00

Sunbeams and pianos.
Saif loves Vidya; evil dad...
Good for nothing son.

Sanjay loves in vain,
Period costumes, soft focus
Wall breaks down at end!

And pretty decent music too; here's a review of one of the songs by 'nosediver'.

ND: We loved the music :-) Thanks for the recommedation!

Foam party at Ngee Ann City

2005-06-22T18:52:00.000+08:00

Looks like someone in Singapore does have a sense of humour. All is not lost!

Edit: To make things clearer, it appears someone poured a box full of soap into the fountain.

Hehehe, why didn't I think of it?

Puzzle Champ

2005-06-22T16:32:00.000+08:00

Well not really.

I've been submitting answers to the BBC Magazine Monitor's weekly Monday puzzles for the past 4 weeks now, and I finally got my 7 seconds of fame this week.

I'm an "honourable mention". The BBC did screw up a bit there though. They put me down as having gotten the wrong answer (with the right letters), when I had actually submitted the right answer - and included another anagram for a lark, in the same response. Looks like they only saw "Mealtime Clenches". :(

Well just had to clarify that.

But, for a bit of fun on a dreary weekday, go ahead and check out the BBC Magazine. It's updated daily, and has a regular set of offbeat, and very interesting columns, quotes and letters.

And a puzzle too. Can you solve the latest one? I have... it's easy.

'Berlusconi's fat' moulded to art

2005-06-22T16:17:00.000+08:00

Dear faithful readers (all two of you), I know haven't blogged for a whole ... 16 days! I notice that some of you have been checking everyday for something from me, be it a new adventure in my exciting life, some opinion on a hotly debated issue, or a new product I'm excited about.

Well, the time has come, and I'm about to give you ... none of the above. Just this news item that will speak for itself.

An art work purportedly made from excess fat from Italian Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi has been sold for $18,000 (£9,862).

Switzerland-based artist Gianni Motti claims to have bought the fat from a clinic where the leader had a liposuction operation performed. He moulded it into a bar of soap which he named Mani Pulite (Clean Hands).

"I came up with the idea of because soap is made of pig fat, and I thought how much more appropriate it would be if people washed their hands using a piece of Berlusconi,"

How ironic. Silvio Berlusconi and 'Clean Hands'.

And how gross.

Anyone want to guess which part of his body the fat came from?

Chicken Rice - How do I Love Thee, Let Me Count the Ways

2005-06-10T10:19:00.000+08:00

After a long long gap of over 2 months, Sa and I finally returned to our old haunt - the famous Hainanese Chicken rice stall along East Coast road.

When I first moved to the East (and specifically to Katong), I used to eat quite frequently at the stall next to 5-star. They served fabulous fried rice there, and over a couple of years, I had gotten quite friendly with the management there. At that time I didn't used to like steamed chicken - I had this feeling that it had a raw kind of flavour - and used to stick to classic roasted chicken rice.

Then a friend convinced my to try what I was missing, and I was hooked. So ladies and gentlemen, presenting:

Five Star Hainanese Chicken Rice Restaurant

So last night, we got there around 10.30, both tired and hungry after a long workout in the gym. Sat by the road and ordered our late dinner and after a short wait, the dishes presented themselves on our table.

1. Lovely chicken strips (our order has become a mantra with the staff there: breast meat, no skin, no bones, steamed chicken), marinated in soya sauce, with cucumber strips and garnished with parsley. Apparently the chickens used here are raised in Malaysia as free range (aka 'kampung') chickens. They're supposed to be tastier.

2. The famous rice. The rice is cooked in chicken broth, and it tastes delicious.

3. Bloccori with gahric, aka Broccoli with garlic. This is lightly cooked in soya sauce, and yet crisp and flavourful, laced with plenty of garlic.

4. Thai style Tofu - deep fried soya bean cakes, which are soft and wobbly on the inside and crisp on the outside. The cakes are covered with a sweet sour thai sauce, and topped with sliced onions.

We washed the whole thing down with some Chinese tea, and came away happy and full. Our bill for this feast? S$18.40. Not very cheap, but very worth the price.

As you can probably tell, we like this place very much. :)

Of Ghouls and Marbles

2005-06-08T12:21:00.000+08:00

After posting my previous post on the sounds of marbles in HDB houses, I did some research, and found that Asia 1 had conducted a poll on their website, asking: "Do you sometimes hear the sound of dropping marbles in the HDB unit above yours in the middle of the night?", to which an amazing 65.7% said "Yes". Even discounting that a number of the Yes responses may be jokes, it still looks like a large number.

I also found that this phenomenon has been reported and discussed quite a lot in the past.

Some of the more interesting (not necessarily sane) hypotheses:

haha... anyway I've heard 2 kinds of explanation. The rational/ scientific one is the expansion and contraction of the steel in the reinforced concrete that most HDB flats are built with due to temperature fluctuations. I do wonder though why this phenomenon is less observed in private housing.

The 2nd, more "paranormal" explanation is that during the construction of HDB flats the construction workers/ foremen actually put in some marbles when pouring the concrete. These marbles are for the spirits that may be around, so they will play with the marbles instead of disturbing the human occupants of the place. *shrug* Anyone knows a construction foreman?

And here's another similar one:

... when they build the HDB flats, they will leave an empty space in between the floor and the next floor's ceilings, and they will put marbles into that empty space. It is for the spirits to play with ...

And one that may make more sense, though I can't imagine re-bars sounding like bouncing marbles:

... there are reinforced iron rods inside the concrete. During day time they expand due to heat, night time they contract.... That's why there is sound occurred [sic] at night... when iron rods contracted.

Still quite spookay.

Losing your marbles?

2005-06-08T11:23:00.000+08:00

Time for some quirky stuff. This letter was published in the ST on the 6th of June:

I can hear marbles... or am I losing mine?

IN THE 15 years I lived in my three-room HDB flat in Lorong Ah Soo, my family had to endure what sounded like marbles being dropped on the floor of the unit above mine. Strangely, this seemed to take place only at night, at times in the wee hours of the morning. Never one for confrontation, I did not speak to the occupants upstairs, and we lived with it.

We moved to Punggol 21 five years ago, and the sound of marbles dropping in the wee hours of the morning seems to have followed us. I once trotted upstairs to see what sort of neighbours I have and the occupants were an elderly woman, her weak elderly husband and their domestic help. It is unlikely they played with marbles, and certainly not in the wee hours of the morning.

From conversations with friends, I was astounded to learn that this sound of dropping marbles is a widespread phenomenon in Singapore. It seems it happens only in HDB flats. One of my friends even suggested it may be the way HDB flats are built.

...

... and was followed by this affirmation from another reader today:

'Marbles' on the brain? Take them in the right spirit

...

Having lived in four different HDB flats from my childhood to my present nesting ground, the familiar sound of marbles has become integral to my idea of HDB living. Amid all sorts of sounds, pleasant or otherwise, my reaction has progressed from being spooked, irritated and curious to mostly nonchalant now.

Until a better explanation can be found, my only explanation of the sound of marbles on the floor of the unit above mine is that certain jinn, or creatures from the other dimension, are fond of making such noises in the wee hours of the morning. Especially after all the neighbours above my unit have moved out! This was the case when my family was among the last few left behind in our block which was affected by the Selective En-bloc Redevelopment Scheme.

...

If it is any relief to Mr Wong, I no longer hear the 'marbles', though my eldest son has described them exactly as Mr Wong did.

So we all know what to expect now - a letter from the HDB, thanking them for their feedback, stating these are design features, how the majority of the people polled liked the sounds, and that the readers are welcome to call the HDB at 1800-xxxxxxx to register their feedback.

This will be followed by the ST doing a full page report investigating the marbles, and coming to the conclusion that it was probably the airconditioning, or the plumbing or something innocuous. Investigative journalism at its best!

Today's "Letter to the Editor" of the Day

2005-06-07T09:29:00.000+08:00

Signboard error does not sit well

NOW that the Speak Good English Movement is on, it is timely to point out an error in English usage on the signboards displayed at many food centres in Singapore.

For example, the signboard at the food centre at Block 8 Empress Road reads: 'Customers are at liberty to sit at any table and stool irrespective of the stalls they patronize.'

But when a customer sits at a table, he should be sitting on a chair or stool, therefore the words 'and stool' are redundant.

In other words, the wording should be changed to read: 'Customers are at liberty to sit at any table irrespective of the stalls they patronise.'

The error should be rectified as soon as possible.

The error should be rectified as soon as possible! People might die! Or worse - they may sit on the table instead of the stool. Or sit at the stool. Horrors!

People, there are far worse English errors that need to be fixed here. Let's focus time and columns space on how to improve the English education here in Singapore, and less on correcting a small redundancy by an undereducated person, shall we?

The emails I've seen written by colleagues and ex-colleagues of mine really make me want to reach out and strangle them. These are graduates from Singapore's finest universities, after at least 15 years in an English medium education.

Let me look for some of these choice samples and I'll post them here in a couple of days.

Pink in Bangkok

2005-06-01T18:41:00.000+08:00

Came across this photo in my collection recently. We were in Bangkok (I think it was at the Royal Palace), and we chanced upon this group of tourists from Japan. I just loved the fact they were all in pink.

That and the fact that the fourth woman to the right of the tour-guide (from left: tourguide with back facing us, white cap, brown hat, white hat, woman in question) looks like Kim Jong-Il.

Mariamman Temple

2005-06-01T15:07:00.000+08:00

Statues
Originally uploaded by katongking.

Sri Mariamman Temple is the oldest and most important of Singapore's Hindu religious buildings. It is dedicated to the goddess Mariamman who is known for her power in curing epidemic illness and diseases. Located in the heart of Chinatown, its ornamental entrance tower or gopuram, has been a landmark to generations of Hindu worshippers and Singapore residents alike. The temple has even given names to the streets flanking it: Temple and Pagoda; to the Chinese, Pagoda Street is known as "Back of the Indian Place of Worship".

Sri Mariamman Temple was established by Naraina Pillai, a government clerk in Penang who accompanied Raffles on his second visit to Singapore in mid-1819. Pillai rapidly established himself in business and became a community leader. He was a building contractor, set up the first brick kiln on the island and founded a shop selling cotton piece goods in Cross Street. In 1822, he was appointed Chief of Indians from Cholamandalam and given the power to settle disputes among the Tamil-speaking population of Singapore.

The English East India Company's original allotment of land for a Hindu Temple was in Telok Ayer Street. However, as it had no convenient source of fresh water needed for rituals, the resident, Colonel William Farquhar, allowed Pillai to occupy an alternative plot near what is today's Stamford Canal in 1821. The South Bridge site was finally granted in 1823.

By 1827 there stood a temple of wood and attap structure at the present site. The small deity installed by Naraina Pillai still has its divinity in the main sanctum, referred to as the "Sinna Amman".

In 1843, a building, using plaster and brick was put up for the first time. In 1963, a new brick building was built. Indian craftsmen were also brought in to undertake sculptural works. The first gopuram (main tower gateway) was constructed in the late 1800's. It did not contain mush sculptural or ornamental works at that time. A covered walkway, connecting the sanctums to the gopuram was built in 1916. After the temple gopuram was built was built in 1863, records do not show of any kumbabishegam (consecration) ceremony being conducted until 29 June 1936. The next kumbabishegam was 12 years later on 1 June 1949, 6th Jun 1971, 6th Sep 1984 & 19 May 96.

SingPost Idol!

2005-05-30T14:12:00.000+08:00

From BoingBoing:

This month, the US Postal Service issued postage stamps honoring four American scientists. The group includes mathematician/computer pioneer John von Neumann, physical chemist Josiah Willard Gibbs, geneticist Barbara McClintock, and physicist Richard Feynman.

On March 28th in Singapore, Singapore Post released its Taufik Batisah stamp, complete with oh-so-cute huggable teddybear pictures, and curer-foo hearts. "Oh Taufik's so cute!", "Look at those dimpers!"

For those not in the know, Taufik's Singapore's answer to Ruben Studdard. Except for the colour, size and talent. If that doesn't help you either, ok, he's the Singapore Idol.

But he wasn't too bad as a performer actually. He is a reasonably talented singer; I was shuddering at the possibility that Sylvester Sim (the other finalist) would beat him (and I actually voted for Taufik. Twice. I feel so much better now.)

PS: Feynman's so ... um, sepia

"Funny Toy"

2005-05-27T10:16:00.000+08:00

"Funny Toy"
Originally uploaded by katongking.

Walking around Chinatown last evening, I was drawn to a hypnotic and repetitive (and not a little annoying) sound. The source was this little "Funny Toy". It's a marvel of technology and manufacturing.

I can't believe that for $7.90, some factory in China can make a battery powered toy that:
1. Moves around a tray randomly
2. The engines (on the wings) blink on and off
3. The eyes (blue things in the front of the plane) rotate left and right
4. The nose (red thing below the eyes) flashes on and off
5. The tail light (red at the back) flashes on and off
6. The blue creature's hands move up and down in a Michael Jackson-esque motion
7. The blue creature's head oscillates left and right
8. The purple creatures hands and head move as well
9. The purple creature's red white and yellow umbrella rotates
10. Oh yes, I forgot this. It's not on the photo, but the plane has a tongue which retracts in and out.

All this accompanied by some lovely music. $7.90 oni! Go and buy!

Hilarious

2005-05-27T09:50:00.000+08:00

'Darth Vader' shocks women at bus stop with a full monty

Women factory workers in Negri Sembilan, Malaysia were shocked when a man in full Darth Vader costume paraded menacingly in front of them and then flashed his genitals. The women were waiting for their bus after work in the town of Seremban when the man got out of his car and suddenly flung back his outfit to reveal his private parts.

One of the women said: "At first, I thought he was a die-hard Star Wars fan trying to impress us with his costume. But we were shocked when he showed his private parts." — AFP

Cue the light saber jokes...

How to order drinks in a coffeeshop in Singapore

2005-05-27T09:42:00.000+08:00

This article is an excellent intro to the coffeshop ordering technique in Singapore. Read the article and the comments and you can walk up to any kopi-stall auntie, and confidently stare her in the eye, and say the three little words: "auntie, kopi-O".

To quote:

No doubt, any Singaporean should know that kopi is the local slang for coffee and teh for tea.
For starters, kopi-C or teh-C means coffee or tea with extra milk. C was probably derived from the fact that condensed milk is used to make coffee. C can mean creamy too.

Amewican Ider Reloaded

2005-05-26T10:18:00.000+08:00

Carrie's the new American Idol
What the heow? How the heow?
What happened to Bo, rockstar Bo
He's so talented, can no one teow?

Let me now go and drown my sorrows in a Kopi-o.

Amewican Ider

2005-05-26T09:58:00.000+08:00

I've been following Amewican Ider quite regularly this season, and I do believe it's been one of the best competitions yet, with a suitable share of controversy (Scott), heart warming stories (Vonzell), class acts (Bo) and over-rateds (Carrie).

Am I the only one who found Carrie's voice to be extremely shrill and nasal last night? I mean to the point of irritation, especially in her second song. Her third song was better. And what happened to Bo last night? Brave choice with the first number, and I don't think I'd have had the testicular fortitude to carry that off. But I didn't get the comments about how his second song was great ("Welcome back, Bo"); I couldn't tell a semblance of a tune on that one.

Anyway, the moment of truth is nigh. In a little under an hour the winner will be announced, and we can all go about our lives again.

Well at least until Amazing Race 8 starts...

Busy busy me.

2005-05-25T10:42:00.000+08:00

3 posts in a day. I'm really jobless today.

Letter to the Editor

2005-05-25T10:22:00.000+08:00

As promised, here's a lovely letter I saw in today's newspaper. This one bemoans the arrival in Singapore of one of Paris' famous cabarets, and the resultant total degeneration of Singapore's entire moral fabric.

I AM deeply concerned and saddened by the decision to allow the Crazy Horse cabaret to perform in Singapore.

It looks like yet another attempt by the Government to ditch our strait-laced image, and I question the need to allow such acts into Singapore to justify 'loosening up' the society.

While the evolvement of a society into a more creative and dynamic one may be facilitated by the relaxation of social and moral safeguards, it leaves me to wonder: At what cost?

The part-owner and director of Crazy Horse Paris, Mr Didier Bernardin, was quoted as saying that he was not worried at all that the nudity would shock audiences. I would rather remain shocked at the things that should indeed shock us.

Ok. In a country where you can get all the nudity (and worse) you need on the Internet, what indeed is the cost of adding something a little more edgy to Singapore's art scene, as compared to, say, "Phua Chu Kang, the Musical".

There are 2 kinds of people who are going to go to see the show, and all of those must be able to cough up the $150 price for the tickets:

1. Those ah peks who will go in to perve and try to catch a glimpse of a body part here and there among the fans and lighting effects. These gentlemen surely are already are "morally corrupt" (note: I'm using phrases that would appeal to the letter writer, and are not my opinion).

2. A segment of Singapore's population that has the maturity to sit through the show, and appreciate it for its artistic content (no, no sarcasm here, I do regard this as an artistic show). These people are not going to perceive anything offensive in this show, and are certainly not going to go out and cause damage to society
after sitting through an evening with scantily clad dancers.

Kids aren't going to be allowed in. And also, a precedent already exists in Singapore (the Neptune Restaurant), which has topless dancers. I believe this has been around for over a decade, with no noticeable effects on the moral fabric.

So Miss Lee (who wrote this letter), please continue to keep your eyes and ears closed and hope this goes away, and dream on about your vision of a Singapore happily (and heavily) populated with happy heterosexual couples with 2.3 (or more!) children. The world is changing and Singapore needs to change too. For heaven's sake credit your fellow Singaporeans with some maturity.

And finally, someone please explain to me this gem: "I would rather remain shocked at the things that should indeed shock us."

Aviation Hub!

2005-05-25T09:50:00.000+08:00

In today's Straits Times:
City of flight: Paris rated the most vital connecting point for international air travel, according to study. Singapore comes in fourth after Anchorage, Alaska, which came in a surprising second on the list, and London.

However, close analysis of the actual paper published by Prof Luis Amaral shows that Singapore was rated highly in "betweenness".It just means that Singapore, by dint of its location faciliates connections between various communities in the area, and is therefore among the most "central", along with Paris, Anchorage and London. The paper (not ST) also indicates that Singapore, along with Anchorage and Port Moresby (which was 9th on the list) were anomalies in that they were nowhere among the most connected cities in the world. That honour went to Paris, London and Frankfurt with scores of (respectively) 250, 242 and 237. Singapore received a score of 92, lower than Hong Kong and Seoul.

Does this mean that Singapore is not exploiting its location well enough, and that HK and Seoul (which are far below in centrality) are better using whatever meagre advantage they have? Singapore already has open-skies, what more can it do?

Or does this have any implication at all for us? Hm. Need to think about this.

Mike-old Jackson

2005-05-25T09:40:00.000+08:00

Mike-old Jackson
Originally uploaded by katongking.

I was sitting next to this lovely old man on the 608 this cold wet morning. You can't really tell from this photo, but he had some sort of MP3 player or radio and earphones plugged into his ear. And he was singing.

Gloriously and *loudly* and surprisingly well. I had a nice ten minutes listening to "Heal the World" followed by "If We Hold On Together".

Carry on old man!

New Phone... Better pics

2005-05-20T15:18:00.000+08:00

Just upgraded my mobile plan this morning, and while I was there, bought a new phone as well. I've been wanting the SE K700i for a bit (great feature set), and finally got it today. So I'll be able to take better and more pictures.

Strait's Facts - 20th May 2005

2005-05-20T15:02:00.000+08:00

Today's ST front page headlines:

Human to human bird flu risk grows.
This is clearly important news in the region, if this starts spreading like SARS did back in 2003, we could very well have another meltdown.
HK partner seeks to pull out of Golden Village cinemas.
Oh no! And this affects me how? Why did this make front page news over, say, the law on sex with minors abroad? Are ticket prices going to come back down because of this?
Want to win that golf game? Wear red.
Wearing red can give you a sporting advantage, a British study indicates. This is so important to the typical ST reader - one in ten of whom play some sport, and one in hundred of whom play golf
Buddhism's draw is no longer as a folk religion.
Quote: Mr Wong Shwei Lin, a third-year chemical engineering student at the National University of Singapore and president of the university's 200-strong Buddhist Society, believes Buddhism appeals to young people as it is no longer associated with rites and superstitions. It is 'a logical religion'.

Front page real-estate:
~ 20% devoted to masthead
~ 60% for the front page news, including a big photo of some guy sitting in a theatre, related to the GV story (again, on the front page???)
~ 20% devoted to an advertisement for a luxury watch (Lolek)

FlickrBlog

2005-05-20T14:57:00.000+08:00

Came across this beautiful photo on FlickrBlog today. I believe they pick out some of the highlights from Flickr everyday on this blog...

Strait's Facts

2005-05-16T14:26:00.000+08:00

I'm starting a new 'regular' column today. Well, 'regular' in the sense that it will continue till I get bored, and its frequency will depend on my mood or the availability of content. I'm sick of the news reported in Singapore's newspapers. I don't subscribe to any local papers (not counting of course the free tabloid 'Today', which I read for the occasional mr brown or Neil Humphreys column), and get all my news online from the BBC, Google News and various blogs.

However, courtesy of my company's corporate account, I have access to the online edition of the Straits Times, and trawl the site often, looking for the all too frequent interesting letter to the editor. I will blog about this separately (perhaps).

My biggest gripe with the ST is the complete disconnect between its front page headlines and those on other newspapers around the world. For example, the big news items today were the ongoing unrest in Uzbekistan and the flap about Newsweek withdrawing the story about the Koran's desecration in Guantanamo Bay. Neither of these made it anywhere in the ST, forget the front page. Given the significant population of Muslims in Singapore, and the fact that Malaysia had issued an official protest, I would have expected at least the second story to have at least warranted a mention here. But no - perhaps it would have inflamed racial and religious tensions in oh-so-sensitive Singapore.

However, the front page did cover the following shocking stories: School link to eating disorders possible and Lawyers losing interest in crime cases. And headlining the 'World' section was Britain wages war on culture of disrespect.

So this column will henceforth contrast the "straight facts" and the "Strait's facts". Headlines only... (I don't want to get sued for copyright, and while they're at it, defamation). And here and there I will pop in a precis of a 'Forum' letter that I find amusing.

A Point of View - China (Singapore?)

2005-05-11T18:07:00.000+08:00

This is an interesting commentary regarding China's ascent, especially the bit about: "What the Chinese Government hopes is that in the rush to shop at Armani's, drive a big car and buy a home computer, the Chinese people will forget all about political freedom."

This reminded me strongly about Singapore, and sure enough, scrolling down to the comments, I read:

"I read Brian Walden's article with interest. If I could make one small point, Mr Walden says that the Chinese are conducting an experiment in which the population accept a trade off between prosperity and political participation. I do not think that harnessing 1.3 billion people is an experiment, it is the real thing. The controlled 'lab experiment' was in Singapore; and it worked rather well."

Touché.

Day 4 in Genting

2005-05-11T15:38:00.000+08:00

We finally returned to our rooms at 1:30 am, RM 20 poorer, but now wise with the knowledge that shoes are important in Genting. We were to leave Genting by the 8:30 taxi, and working backwards, I realised that assuming a 30 minute walk to the Skyway station, and another 30 minutes on the Skyway cable car itself, we would need to have checked out and breakfasted by 7:30. In other words we would have to pack, shower etc etc by 6:45 or so, to maximise our breakfast time (it was a buffet after all, and as you may recall, I'm a cheapo). My point is, we would have have to wake up by 6:00… in a little over 4 hours time.

Given our sleeping habits and our level of tiredness this would be flat out impossible, so we decided to stay awake. And what better way to stay awake than by playing cards. We decided to play 'teen patta' (or 3 cards) - a version of poker. Our experiments with gambling had gone awry earlier in the evening, so we played using cards from another pack as chips. So we played and played, and after some time the thin mountain air and our collective exhaustion caught up with us, and we were laughing and rolling around clutching or stomachs more than looking at our cards. How not to, when Sa's dad referred to his cards as "Eli Settha Naatham" (or whatever). This translates to cards which stink worse than a dead rat, and are since then being referred to as ESN cards.

We got sick and tired of the cards by 4:00 and Vi fell asleep, soon followed by his mum. Sa a little after that, and I tried to stay up by watching some silly movie on TV. That bored me even more and I crashed out soon after.

Fortunately, my alarm rang at 6:00 and I roused the others. We all sleepily went about our morning routines and were right on schedule at breakfast. Stuffed ourselves there, walked the long walk to the skyway and enjoyed another breath-taking ride back down. Ibrahim (the driver) arrived 5 minutes after we got down, right on time, and we slept our way back to KL, arriving at 9:30.

Our train to Singapore was for 2:30 pm, so we had some time to kill. I had a business meeting to attend that morning, so we kept our bags back at Corus hotel (bless them), and I made my way by LRT to Petaling Jaya (just outside KL). The others went to take in the view from the 41st floor at Petronas Towers. They enjoyed this very much, and after lunch we all got back together at the KL Sentral station. Train was right on time. We all fell asleep almost immediately, and only woke up back in JB when it was time for Immigration. This time was fairly painless, and even Singapore (aside from one anal official) was not a problem.

Arrived at Singapore station (Tanjong Pagar) at 10.00 pm, about an hour later than expected, and this concludes this tale of adventure and intrigue.

Day 3 in Genting

2005-05-11T12:13:00.000+08:00

We were to go to Genting today. As you may recall, we had booked a taxi (more like a mini van, so I wouldn't have to have Sa sitting on my lap for 1 hour) for 9 am. By 9.15 we were down, and had checked out of the hotel. We quickly loaded our bags into the van, driven by one Mr. Ibrahim, made ourselves comfortable and proceeded to Genting. It was a very nice drive out of KL and after some time, up the mountains, and we could feel the air getting cooler. Finally, we alighted at the Cable Car centre (Skyway, it's called). After making arrangements with the driver to pick us up the next morning at 8.30 am, we walked into the cable car station.

The cable car ride is apparently the longest in South East Asia, and the fastest in the world. Don't know about the latter, but the former must be true. After queueing for fifteen minutes or so, we were ushered into car number 5, and for the next 20 minutes we took the longest and most breathtaking ride I've had. It was especially exhilarating, since we couldn't see where we were heading. We knew we were going upwards generally, but after a certain height, the entire place was so misty we could only see the green green rainforests below, and about 10 metres ahead and behind us. For me, the lack of visibility was scary - a phenomenon I once encountered many years ago when sitting in an aircraft cockpit and flying into cloud.

We finally got down from the cable car at the top of the hill - a lovely nip in the air, and the blood rushing back into our feet. It was 11 am, and over the next 24 hours, I forgot how to sweat.

Genting has 4 large-ish hotels all perched on the summit of a hilltop. In between these nestles the Theme Park. The hotels are all interconnected to each other by a series of stairs and escalators and passageways. It's all hugely complicated and confusing; luckily there were plenty of signs along the way to guide us to the imaginatively named "Theme Park Hotel" where we had booked rooms. At check in we were told our rooms were not ready yet, and they suggested we have lunch and come back around 1 to get our rooms. So we left our baggage with the bell boy, and walked over to the Resort Hotel. We had spotted a lunch buffet with an Indian spread there, so that was an obvious attraction. Not much to write home about (quite literally!). The Indian dishes were limited to 6 or 7 vaguely Indianish things, of which only the rice, a cabbage curry and payasam were vegetarian. There were, however, a lot of fruits, and a large selection of local desserts and sweetmeats, which we all tried.

The best part of this was the statue of an Indian woman (she looked Maharashtrian, from her attire) outside the restaurant. She was seated with her hands in a 'namaste' position. There was also a lighted lamp in front of her. For some reason, passers-by thought this was some god and were 'namaste-ing' back to her and putting money in front of the lamp. Obviously this must have delighted the restaurant waiters. Her expression was priceless - a mix of anger and confusion.

Checked back into the hotel, and got our rooms in the Valley Wing. This was another long walk (this trip seems to be full of long walks), but the rooms we got were quite nice. Quite basic as far as facilities go, but the view was quite fantastic, overlooking the Genting Valley.

After a short rest in the room, we quickly walked over to the Outdoor Theme Park, and got ourselves day passes for all the rides. The rides were exciting, especially when we relied on a combination of cajoling and good old-fashioned emotional blackmail to get Sa and her mum on the roller coaster. We also rode paddle boats, did yet another roller coaster (twice!) and generally had a good time :-)

After all this excitement, we ran out of things to do in the theme park, and most of the attractions started shutting down after 8, so we decided to head for dinner. We had located another Indian restaurant in the afternoon, and headed there for dinner. This was called 'Spice Garden', another joint much like Bombay Palace. There was another private party going on in there, and as soon as we entered, our ears were assailed by a gentleman up on stage singing Punjabi songs, and our eyes by a handful of guests dancing in front of the stage. It was not the quality of his singing that was bad (actually he was pretty good), but the volume. For the 15minutes that we had to endure it, we couldn't hear ourselves speak. Literally. Never have I appreciated silence more than after he ran out of songs to sing (or was it dancers to entertain?). After a good grub session and suitably fortified, we headed for the casinos!

Casinos in Genting have a dress code. And we didn't quite fit in.

This was sonething I really didn't expect - after visiting casinos in Las Vegas, being reuired to wear smart casual clothes and shoes was a bit unexpected. Luckily, Sa and her parents were deemed to be suitably attired by the two policemen on duty, and with a jubilant bounce in their steps, ran into the casino. Vi and me were left sitting outside. Not to be outdone, we walked into a pub, watched a football match on a big screen, played 5 games of billiards (I lost 2-3), and drank a glass of expensive beer each. The other 3 were obviously enjoying themselves too much, as they took another hour after this to come out. To my disappointment they lost RM 20. I was disappointed they didn't lose more :)

Day 2 in KL

2005-05-09T15:20:00.000+08:00

Woke up a little late in the morning, and after some coffee/tea, took an LRT (local train) from 'Ampang Park' (10 mins walk from the hotel) to 'Masjid Jamek', which straddled Little India and Chinatown. This was strategically planned out, so we could have lunch in Little India and proceed post haste to Petaling Street to pick up where we had left last night. Quickly located a 'Saravanaa Bhavan', and stuffed our tummies with a meal (consisting of rice, sambar, carrot curry, tomato pachdi, and TS). Change of plan - we decided to go to the national museum and orchid gardens first, and Chinatown later. Another cab, another RM 15 to carry 5 people, and we got to the museum.

The museum was fairly dry stuff, but pretty informative about Malaysian (and South East Asian) culture and people, and flora and fauna, and weapons and pottery. The ladies lingered around the section on Malaysian clothes a bit longer, while we walked around fairly aimlessly :-) After this we crossed over the highway to the Lake Gardens, a sprawling complex of gardens, a planetarium, a bird park and a butterfly park. After much walking we arrived at the Orchid and Hibiscus gardens, which was truly beautiful and cooling, and enjoyed by all. None of us could locate the Hibiscus though. Another loooong walk later, we came to the butterfly park, and decided to give it a miss. We did, hoewver, sit in the air conditioned cafetaria there, had a couple of cokes and water, and did some souvenir shopping.

Took a cab immediately outside, and rushed back to Petaling Street. Today's shopping was much more relaxed, as we go there around 5-ish, and took our time walking around and bargaining. Today's spoils included:

A Louis Vuitton handbag (RM 45) which Sa had been lusting after for a while.
A pair of sandals for Vi (he had a blister on his foot due to his existing shoes). This pair of sandals lasted exactly 3 days, giving way the day after we returned to SG.
A Franck Muller watch for Vi (RM 110)

You might have noticed the watch cost a lot more than what I paid. This is because there are 2 kinds of pirated watches - the cheap, and the really cheap. The former category are very close imitations of the real ones, down to the automatic mechanisms (not quartz or battery), and the face and the back, and even the strap. This is really high quality, with steel bodywork and sapphire glass face. My cheapo version on the other hand had none of these, and was battery operated.

You may also notice that we seem to have a thing for Louis Vuitton merchandise, but not the money for it. What to do - we have expensive tastes. I'll post pictures of all these items up so you can take a look.

Got back to the hotel after this round of shopping quite quickly, and after a short rest, decided to head out for dinner. We quickly located a nearby restaurant called Bombay Palace. It appeared to be fairly posh, but looking at the price list, we realised that in SG$ terms, it was very reasonable. After a twenty minute wait for a table, we were ushered upstairs and ate sumptuously. Rotis, parathas, roomali rotis, daal, aloo gobi etc etc.

Once again, full to the brim, we walked back to the hotel. We were to head to Genting the next day, so I made a booking for a taxi and we headed up to sleep…

Day 1 in KL

2005-05-09T15:18:00.000+08:00

Rooms were quite nice (similar to the Bangkok rooms). We took a short nap and showered and I went and booked a city tour taxi at 2 pm. This was a mini van, and it was supposed to take us to Batu Caves, then a batik factory, a pewter factory and a place where you can get cheap duty free watches.

Batu caves is about 40 km outside KL and is a Murugan temple inside a large set of limestone caves. There are 272 steps up to the main cave, and we climbed those painfully. After almost 2 hours in that cave (consisting of a combination of sight seeing and attending some rituals and abhishegams), we returned down to the car. The driver had informed us in advance that we had a max of 45 mins the cave. Given that we took over twice that amount, we had to cancel everything else in the itinerary that day as the driver needed to return to the hotel for his next round at 6. So we walked over to a nearby vege restaurant and ate dosais and coconut milk. Returned to the hotel by 6 pm.

After a short rest again, we walked over to the Petronas towers (the erstwhile tallest buildings in the world), did some sight seeing there, and then walked over to the KL Menara tower. This is a telecom tower about 270 meters high, and has a viewing deck and restaurant at the top. After a long long walk (underestimated by me) in the humid KL evening, we dragged our sweaty bodies to the base of the tower and awaited the lift that would take us up for the view. And what a view! That and the very informative (and free) audio commentary were well worth the price of admission and the effort. Came back down at closing time (10 pm) and took 2 cabs over to Chinatown (Petaling Street) aka piracy central.

Petaling Street in KL's Chinatown is a huge mass of Gucci and Louis Vuitton handbags, Rolex watches, the latest DVDs, tacky souvenirs and all kinds of fruits and nuts. All fake (except the fruits and nuts). And therefore, all cheap. The street is about 200m long, and 10m wide, and has 2 'aisles' for people to walk down, with stalls on either side. Bargaining is a must, though if you bargain and leave without buying, you risk being heaped with abuses about your ancestry, your country, religion, race, colour, hairstyle… all par for the game.

Naturally we couldn't resist. Though getting there at 10.30 pm left us with barely an hour to do anything useful. Still in that time, we snagged the following:

I had been lusting after a Louis Vuitton watch (which I had seen in the local LV showroom) for the longest time. Naturally at $10,000+ I couldn't afford it, and even if I could, wouldn't have paid that much for a watch. So when I saw the same (well almost the same) watch for RM 10 (RM = Malaysian Ringgit), or about US$ 2.50, I snapped it up.
Vi picked up a 'North Face' backpack for his laptop for RM 50.
Sa picked up a Gucci bag for RM 40.

Amazing thing is, all of them look absolutely real. Well almost all of them - when I got back home, I realised that my LV watch was basically a large bit of molded metal with an ordinary clockwork stuck in it. There were 2 buttons along the side that didn't do anything useful - in fact, they were part of the metal body and you couldn't even press them! Well, can't expect much for that price!

The shops closed by 11 to 11.30, and we had just gotten into the swing of things and had barely covered 10% of the market. So we resolved to come back the next day. Took a cab back (one cab) to the hotel, paying the cabbie RM 15 (normal RM 10 + RM 5 for accommodating 5 of us).

Dinner was simple - pulikachal with rice, rasam (yes we brought it along in a bottle!) and chips. Didn't take a flight, so there were no curds :)

Holidayed in Malaysia

2005-05-09T15:15:00.000+08:00

Had a great (and very very tiring) holiday in Malaysia over the weekend. Monday was a public holiday and I had taken the Tuesday off, so we had a total of 4 days outside Singapore. Sa's parents and her brother Vi are here - we had 5 people in our trip.

What I learnt from the trip -

5 people + driver can fit in a taxi.
Never underestimate the power of air-conditioning.
Don't mess with Immigration.
There are 2 kinds of pirated watches - the cheap and the ridiculously cheap.

We left Singapore on Friday night. First took a cab over to the Singapore immigration checkpoint which is in a location in the North of SG called Woodlands. We had a small problem there with immigration (more on that later), but managed to clear that and took a bus number 170 across the bridge between Spore and Msia. Then queued up for Msian immigration (all the while noting our train was scheduled to leave at 10.45 pm and it was now already 10.00). Finally reached immigration and had another encounter with an irritated and irritating officer. Finally cleared that too and made a mad dash for the railway station (not too far away). Reached at 10.46 and watched a train pull away from the station at that moment. Briefly considered catching a cab to the next station, but decided to walk into the station anyway to check. Realised our train had not arrived yet! Ended up having to wait on the platform for another hour.

Train arrived and we piled in. Very very cold, esp since it was night. Quite uncomfortable too - we could't recline too much. The 7 hour trip passed in with all of us struggling to keep warm with whatever shawls and sweaters we had. Finally reached KL at 7 am on Saturday, and took 2 cabs to the hotel and checked in.

Digital Divide?

2005-04-20T15:08:00.000+08:00

Conventional definitions of the phrase 'Digital Divide' refer to the socio-economic or knowledge gap caused by disparity in access to technology between rich and poor countries, or between rich and poor segments of society.

Singapore, being fairly small and homogeneous, as well as on the cutting edge of modern ICT trends has no use for such definitions. There is a different digital divide here, that between the old and the young. Between those who pay their bills over the Internet, and those who queue up at the post office on Saturday mornings clutching a stack of bills in one hand, and a roll of cash in the other. Between the youngsters who can navigate their way through crowds and across busy streets while furiously typing away at their phone keypads, and adults who can barely send a single SMS message correctly.

There are, of course, exceptions. I was at dinner last night with Sa, and over my bowl of chicken curry I chanced to overhear three older ladies (probably in their 50s) discussing and complaining about their respective bosses. One of them (the oldest looking) sounded very similar to my boss's secretary and she caught my attention, so I listened on. Presently their conversations changed to their mobile phones. To my surprise (and some delight too), the lady who had attracted my attention started describing the features on her latest phone. It was amazing to hear her talk about T9 and Bluetooth and megapixels, and I was absolutely flabbergasted when she started explaining 3G to her colleagues.

And then there are exceptions. A fairly young colleague of mine (whom I will call Del) recently bought a new phone - an NEC something-or-the-other. This is a 3G phone that a relative of hers got at a special price and sold to her. She knew this was a 3G phone, and for that reason had requested to buy it off her relative. The first question she asked me when I got into work that morning was, "What's 3G?". Ok no big deal, not everyone is familiar with 3G, so I explained it to her, and said she'd need to get a new SIM card to activate the 3G features. I honsetly didn't anticipate the next question - "What's a SIM card?".

And this is the same person who, at another colleague's birthday celebration at office, excitedly got up to film her cutting the cake, using her new phone's camera. Once she did that, she had no idea what to do with the clip, since she didn't know how to connect to her laptop, nor did she know anything about MMS. And I couldn't help her because the phone's UI sucked and I lost patience.

And she works as a Technology Project Manager.

Anusol?

2005-04-19T12:54:00.000+08:00

Anusol?
Originally uploaded by katongking.

Walking round one of the pharmacies in JB (we had time to kill, and the wife was looking at the cosmetics - "come come cheap cheap"), I chanced upon this.

At first I thought it was just unfortunately named, and then I read the by-line - "Ubat-sapu buasir (Hemoroid)" - quite unmistakable.

And then I saw the helpful picture.

Drinking Tea at Johor Bahru City Square

2005-04-19T12:50:00.000+08:00

Drinking Tea at Johor Bahru City Square
Originally uploaded by katongking.

Over the weekend, Sa and I went to JB (which is just a short hop from here). Stepped into a 170, and a nap later we were at the Woodlands checkpoint. Between entering and leaving the checkpoint, the weather turned ugly, and it was pouring when we climbed back onto the 170 to proceed to JB. Again there, we had to run from the bus to the immigration hall, and once out of there, had to run (in the driving rain) to the Train Station.

Our purpose for going to JB that day was to buy train tickets to Kuala Lumpur, which we're visiting a couple of weeks from now. Unluckily the train station was just across the road from JB City Square (a large mall), which beckoned to Sa ("Come come, cheap cheap"). But it was lucky as well; we managed to get in and get some respite from the rain, as well as some coffee and tea, and some children singing along a Chinese song.

After a heap of window shopping, we discovered the rain had stopped, so we walked over to the station, and bought the tickets. We also bought one way tickets back from JB to Singapore for ourselves (just to experience it). Amazingly the tickets were cheaper than travelling by bus, and with far less hassle.

No food and drinks allowed!

2005-04-18T16:33:00.000+08:00

Sunday – Race Day!

We woke up around 7, and after a quick shower, packed up and had a sumptuous breakfast at the Coffee House (again). This was the standard hotel buffet breakfast that I’ve seen in Bangkok, Singapore, Hong Kong and now, Malaysia. The highlight of the morning was that I broke a plate. This happened when I was trying to slice a loaf of bread, and knocked the plate off the table.

Breakfast done, we paid the bills and climbed into the bus. Thankfully, the bus driver didn’t have trouble finding the circuit, and at 9:30, we arrived at the circuit again. We had tickets for section C2 (covered hill-stand) and I had already picked out the exact location that I wanted to sit; this location would give us the best possible view of much of the track. So, in an attempt to beat the other thousands of people who would also want to sit there, we started hurrying towards C2.

In our hurry, and partly due to my misreading the map, we missed the turn-off to C2, and ended up at the main entranceway to the complex. Not too unfortunate, as there were quite a few things there to occupy our attention for the next few minutes. We has been asked to buy a Ferrari flag for a friend of ours, so we walked into the Ferrari outlet and bought the biggest flag they had. It was surprisingly not as expensive as I had expected, only 40 Euros (I had expected twice that, but didn’t really care actually…). Their other stuff, like caps and t-shirts were ridiculously priced so, though temptation called, we found it easy to resist.

(photo)

Resumed our hurry scurry towards C2. The walk was longer than we expected. As we walked we were passed by three security guards on motorbikes, one female and two male. They were driving very slowly, so I (in a moment of uncharacteristic thick-skinnedness) jogged up to them and asked them for a lift. They looked at each other and said “No” in a tone that suggested they wouldn’t have a problem personally, but when in uniform it wouldn’t be professional. Not wanting to push the matter with large people on large bikes with guns, I didn’t. However, ten yards later they stopped, had a quick discussion and motioned us over. With big smiles on our lips, we ran over and climbed onto the bikes, and got a comfortable ride (and lots of envious looks from other walkers) to the C2 gate.

A big source of imcome for the Sepang track (aside from the reasonably priced tickets) is the sale of food and beverages inside the gates. These are normally atrociously priced – in this case, RM 10 (S$ 4.50) for a bottle of water and RM 15 for a sandwich. We had packed plenty of food and drinks for the race, but were told to empty our bags at the gate. So I pulled out a bottle of water (one of three) ostentatiously from the bag, held it up to the guard, and tossed it into the pile of bottles lying at the side. He then waved us in through the turnstile, and I thought, “Hm, that was too easy.” Didn’t realise that there was another guard inside opening and checking all bags. This chap opened my backpack, peered inside, noted two bottles of water and three apples, had a brief conversation with the first guard, both of them looked at me and smiled, and waved us on! I love Malaysia :)

Sorry for the Interruption...

2005-04-04T18:37:00.000+08:00

I discovered that other people have blogged about Singlish, much in the same vein as my post here. Check out calm one's (very funny) take at http://lifeatngeeann.blogspot.com/2005/04/speak-good-singlish.html, and mr brown's (somewhat dissertative) at http://www.mrbrown.com/blog/2005/04/mr_browns_meani.html#more.

Adventures in Sepang will return shortly.

On Statues and Shopping

2005-03-30T12:16:00.000+08:00

Holiday Villa Subang is a sprawling resort over 8 acres overlooking a small lake. Where we spotted a turtle. What was a little strange (to me at least) was the abundance of Greek-ish statues all over the place. That aside, it was a pleasant evening that we spent there. Food at the Coffee House was excellent.

We also discovered on the table in our room, a large box of chocolates shaped like F1 cars, courtesy of the organisers. Very nice and thoughtful of them. The chocs provided a final twist to the tale, which I shall reveal at the very end. Bittersweet too - both the chocs and the twist.

Anyway, given our physical condition, we cancelled our plans of driving up to KL, getting dinner there and partying the night away, and instead opted for a quick linner at the aforementioned Coffee House, followed by shopping at Sunway Pyramid. Sa was naturally very thrilled on discovering that British India had a 70% discount outlet there, and we spent the better part of 2 hours (and the better part of my life’s savings) in that shop alone. Walked around a bit more and returned to the hotel. My eyes were swimming in my head and my vision was getting blurred (really!), and I needed sleep. Got back to the hotel and ordered some pita bread with babaghanoush for supper and slept the sleep of the dead.

Ok, now where the h*ll is the F1 track?

2005-03-30T12:13:00.000+08:00

It's 12:00 noon. There’s a flurry of phone calls and raised voices up front. The other bus in our contingent has broken down and a few passengers from there have to be transferred on to our bus. These people had signed up for tickets for the 1st qualifying session (1:00 pm on the Saturday), so our bus would now take a ‘short’ detour, stop by the F1 track, drop them off, and resume the journey to our hotel at Subang. The new passengers clamber onto the bus, and we chug along.

Our bus driver loses his way at the entrance to the track. Yes, the combined navigational might of an experienced driver and a guide are overcome by the confusing layout and lack of signs at Sepang. The result is a series of U-turns and much confusion. Not to mention a profusion of views of the large mosque from a variety of angles. The mosque, by the way, is the landmark for the area. Finally a bunch of us in the back of the bus pull out our maps and shout a chorus of instructions to the stressed out driver – “Left here! Straight! Right there!”, and we finally pull up at parking lot PA3 at 2:00 pm, right after the qualifying session has ended. The driver’s confusion has cost us 45 minutes, and this entire detour will cost us 3 hours. My sympathies to the folks who had paid for the qualifying tickets - I hope they got some money back.

After much more driving, and much more confusion again at Subang, and a bunch of instructions from the back of the bus, we finally alight at Holiday Villa Subang. Very hungry, tired, and in my case sleep deprived.

We went to Sepang, and returned significantly tanned

2005-03-29T09:38:00.000+08:00

Note to self: next time, remember the sun tan lotion.

Quite an adventurous trip, it was. We were supposed to meet the rest of the cohort at Orchard at 7 am on the Saturday morning, with the bus to depart at 7:30. We reached home on Friday night (Sat morning acherly) at 3 am, late and high. Knowing that I wouldn't be able to wake up on time if I slept now, I decided I would stay awake until 7:30 and sleep later on the bus.

3:00 am to 3:30 am - American idol rerun on TV
3:30 am to 4:00 am - Surf Engadget.com and about a hundred useless articles on the BBC site
4:00 am to 4:30 am - Days of our Lives on TV
4:30 am - I decide staying awake is madness and trudge off to the bedroom, set the alarm and collapse on the bed.

Naturally we overslept. At 7:30 am, my phone rang - “Hi, is that K? I’m Ricky here, the trip organiser. Are you guys coming?” What a way to wake up on a Saturday, more so when you’re hung over, and sleptunder. Fortunately, I had anticipated that we would oversleep and had packed our bags the previous night. All we had to do was comb our teeth and brush our hair, pick up the bags, and RUN.

I called Ricky back, “Hi Ricky, this is K, it looks like we won’t be there on time (hehehe). Can we meet you guys directly at Tuas at 8:15?”. Tuas is the checkpoint between Singapore and Malaysia, and is about 40 minutes away from home by taxi. We ran downstairs, took a nice white Mercedes cab, told the driver to hurry scurry, and crashed back into sleep.

As it turned out, we reached Tuas a minute before the bus got there. Paid off the cab, and were about over to the main building when we were suddenly accosted by a serious looking policeman carrying a serious looking AK-47. “Donchew know you’re not allowed to walk here? Pedestrians are not allowed in this complex!”.

“Ah pardon me sir, I didn’ch know, but if you could just let us walk 20 metres more, we will give a convincing impression of having alighted from that orange bus that’s just pulled up there”.

Naturally, the cop didn’t have a sense of humour, but Ricky came to the rescue. His keen eyes had spotted us from the bus and he jogged over and explained the situation to the cop. After a dressing down (“Don’ch do that again hor!”), we walked over to the counter, successfully negotiated the immigration officers and gratefully clambered on the bus. Phew!

It was 9 am, we hadn’t left Singapore yet, and what an adventure.

Five minutes later, we crossed the causeway, and pulled up at the Malaysian checkpoint. This was painless and we were soon on our way. By now we were accompanied by a guide, Roger, who exprained to us what we would do on our way to Subang: “In one hour we will stop at Yong Peng, where you hungry people can grab a quick bite. Twenty minit oni ah.”.

Yong Peng café – the name conjured up visions of fresh hot steaming roti pratas with nice chicken curry (this is Malaysia after all), and our tummies started rumbling in pleasure and anticipation. But when we pulled up at YP, our dreams were cruelly shattered; we encountered stall upon stall serving nothing but rice with ‘ikan bilis’ (anchovies) infested vegetables, noodles etc etc. We were quite disappointed, but somehow found something to take the edge off our hunger - nasi lemak and some non-infested vegetables. So much for being seasoned travellers – we couldn’t find anything decent at a rest stop. The good part was we found clean loos and had coffee and tea.

Back on the bus. I’m a lousy bus traveller, and can’t sleep at all on buses. You might recall we hadn’t slept much the previous night, so I was quite out of it. Sa had no such problems – she curled into a comfortable position and drifted off.

Remember to check your passport.

2005-03-21T14:15:00.000+08:00

I've been silent these past few days. It's been a busy time, with us running around getting ready for our trip to Sepang (which happened last weekend, more later).

So last Friday, over a week before we were to leave, we went to apply for our Malaysian visas. This normally takes 3 days to process, so we were confident that we'd be ready by Wednesday.

On handing over the passports to the travel agent, we realised that Sa's passport had just one empty page left, and that it would not be accepted by the Malaysian authorities (why?). We felt even worse when we flipped thro the passport and found at least 6 pages with just one rubber stamp (entry or exit stamps) on them. If all of these stamps had been made with a little more care, we'd have had 5 pages more. It was worse that all these renegade stamps were made by Indian immigration. I have this theory that they work hand in glove with the Foreign Service to ensure more revenue from NRIs, from adding additional passport booklets.

As they say here, bohpien, so Monday morning, we went to the Indian High Commission, joined a queue of at least 50 others (at 8:30 am), and waited for half an hour. To our dismay we again realised that this additional booklet would take 2 days to process, which then implied we wouldn't have the time to get the Malaysian visa done.

To cut a long story short, we paid a (huge) express service fee, got the passport back immediately, went to the travel agent that evening, submitted it, and picked up the visas on Friday evening, about 12 hours before we were to leave.

And that was just the beginning of our adventure in Sepang.

Moral of the story: Remember to check your passport at least 3 weeks before you leave for anywhere.

The Source

2005-03-11T15:20:00.000+08:00

I've just started re-reading "The Source" by James Michener. The last time I read it (and didn't finish) was a couple of years ago, and the book has been languishing on my bookshelf ever since.

A brilliant story - it attempts to trace the development of three of the great religions of the world - Judaism, Christianity and Islam, and in parallel the history of the Middle East. This is done by the telling of short stories spanning tens of thousands of years, between 10,000 BCE and the early 1900s. Michener cleverly uses the archaeological levels of a tell (mound) being excavated In Israel, each level becoming a chapter moving up from the bottom level which is earliest history, to most recent. As the contemporary archaeologists unearth foundations and shards, the story of people whose dust forms the tell is told.

Naturally the short stories are (in the style of Michener) a mix of fact and fiction. The protagonists of the story are based on typical characters existent at the time, but real historical people are as much a part of the story as the fictional characters are.

I'm now about half way through the book, so far just tracing the history of Judaism, and Christianity is just beginning to get prominence; Islam is yet to be born. And I have already learnt so much about the history of the Jews. Some very interesting links follow:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Judaism
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tetragrammaton
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Jewish_Revolt
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Timeline_of_Jewish_History

My other blog is an airplane

2005-03-04T16:05:00.000+08:00

I started a new blog a couple of weeks ago, focusing on the burgeoning (and increasingly crowded) aviation scene in India - one of my interests...

Yes Minister celebrates 25 years

2005-03-04T15:57:00.000+08:00

One of my favourite BBC comedies ever celebrated 25 years of existence last month, and 25 years of (along with its follow-up, 'Yes, Prime Minister') not-so-gently and humorously dissecting the British political system. To quote the referenced BBCNews article about it:

It is "one of the best political textbooks about the British system", according to the former cabinet secretary Lord Butler. He is not referring to some complex academic analysis of the workings of Whitehall. Rather strangely, he is actually talking about a sitcom.

But one of the secrets of Yes, Minister was that as well as making people laugh, it did reflect the way that British officialdom actually functioned - at least sometimes, anyway.

The twists and turns of the complex machinations between the Machiavellian permanent secretary Sir Humphrey Appleby and the dogged but bumbling minister Jim Hacker have become part of our political folklore.

And here's the BBC Comedy Guide to 'Yes Minister'.

Petronas Towers

2005-03-03T11:18:00.000+08:00

I last visited Kuala Lumpur a couple of years ago (I know, it's sad, being so close by and all), and took this photo. I think it's quite good, given it was a long exposure and, not having my tripod with me at that moment, I had to hold the camera in my hand.

A few years ago, these towers were the tallest in the world. They are still very very attractive to look at, especially when lit up at night.

I haven't yet been up on the bridge, but I'm sure that will happen eventually... :)

We're going to Malaysia!

2005-03-03T11:15:00.000+08:00

Here we go again! In 2 days, the 2005 Formula 1 season will commence with the Melbourne Grand Prix. I'm normally a Ferrari, and in particular Rubens Barrichello supporter, and this year won't be different. However, my loyalties will be shared for the first time between Rubinho and Narain Karthikeyan of Jordan, with whom I share an interesting connection.

Best news is that Sa and I will be at Sepang in a little over 2 weeks to watch the 2nd race of the season! Should have lots of photos from there. I was kind of surprised that we got to go for such a low price. The package is quite inexpensive and covers transport to and from KL, one night's stay at a 4 star hotel and the tickets themselves.

2005-02-24T13:09:00.000+08:00

This is such an awesome concept! Where can I buy one?

Manjusri

2005-02-23T13:40:00.000+08:00

Mañjuśrī (文殊 Ch. Wen Shu, Jp. Monju) also written Manjushri, is a bodhisattva. A disciple of the historical Buddha Shakyamuni, he represents wisdom, intelligence and realization, and after Avalokitesvara is probably the most popular bodhisattva.

So why am I writing about him? It's because, while reading about him I discovered the following fascinating snippet: According to legend, Jurchen leader and founder of the Qing Dynasty Nurhaci believed himself to be a reincarnation of Manjusri. He thus banned the name "Jurchen" and renamed his race the Manchus.

The Lion Dance

2005-02-23T13:23:00.000+08:00

I was at lunch at Lau Pa Sat this afternoon. Just as I was finishing up, there was a loud clanging of cymbals and banging of drums - the unmistakable sounds of a Lion Dance. I've been wanting to photograph a Lion Dance for the longest time, but am inevitably camera-less when I do see one. I was with Va, who, not being very familiar with the Chinese culture, asked me a million questions about it. Most of which I didn't have the answer to, shame on me. So I decided to come back to office and do my research.

Lion dance (舞獅; wǔshī) is a form of traditional dance in Chinese culture, in which performers mimic the lion's movements in a cloak of lion costume.

The lion is traditionally regarded as a guardian creature in Chinese culture. It is featured in Buddhist lore, being the mount of Manjusri (see next posting). The dance is symbolic of the people's prosperity and peace. Until the early twentieth century there existed professional lion dance troupes but the dance is now mostly performed by enthusiasts.

A long time ago in China, a fierce creature called the Nian appeared, which terrified the villagers. No one could fight the Nian, so in despair the villagers asked the lion to help. The lion attacked the Nian and injured it, so the Nian vowed to take revenge. When the Nian did return, the lion was unable to help, so the people constructed an imitation lion out of bamboo and cloth. Two men operated the lion while the rest of the people banged their pots and pans. When the Nian saw the lion and heard the commotion it ran away. The Villagers carried on with this tradition every year to scare away evil. Lion dance is thus seen as cleansing one's property or business of any evil or bad spirits for the forthcoming year.

The lion costume may be operated by a single dancer, who springs about while energetically moving and shaking the head and operating the jaws, or by a pair of dancers, forming the back and fore legs of the beast. The use of a pair of dancers is seen perfected in the exhibitions of Chinese acrobats, with the two dancers forming as a team the motions of a single animal as they move between platforms of varying elevations. The dance is traditionally accompanied by gongs, drums and firecrackers, representing the descent of good luck, and is usually performed in the Chinese New Year period.

The "Sleeping Lion" dance (Suai Si) consists of steps and movements that imitate a sleepy lion. The lion walks around and gets sleepy and stumbles waking himself up for a bit. Finally, the lion gives in to his sleepiness and falls asleep. Bothered by a flea, he then wakes up, scratches himself, falls back asleep, etc. These various movements continue until the lion finally wakes up for good and then grooms himself. Eventually, he realizes he is hungry and then the "lion eating" (choi chiang) dance begins.

Traditionally, the lion eats lettuce or bok choy but often times when the dance is performed in front of a crowd, the lion has been known to improvise and eat all sorts of things including baby strollers (!).

ph34r my l33t skillz

2005-02-21T15:10:00.000+08:00

D00d, 1f u c4n r34d th15 kewl 5tuph, u r3411y d0n'7 n33d t0 xn0w t1h5.

2005-02-21T14:54:00.000+08:00

Following up on my previous entry, here's something I noticed in today's 'State Times'.

I refer to the letter, 'The beauty and threat of Singlish' (ST, Feb 16), by Mr Tan Wei Min.
I agree with the writer that Singlish is not a separate language altogether. In its purest form, a separate language would have to share no common history with the language it is being compared to. An example would be English and Chinese; they are quite different in both script and speech with no overtly discernible common history.
Singlish clearly does not qualify under that description, for it is rooted in the tongues of Singapore's various communities, in more ways than one.
Describing it as a dialect of English, however, might not be entirely accurate either. It is possible to speak in Singlish without uttering a single word of English - for example, 'Wah lau eh, macham gu niang ah!'
This being the case, can it still be 'an alternative form of an established language'?
However, this is a secondary concern. Of greater significance is that there are actually two forms of code-switching - one possibly invidious, but the other probably of benefit. The invidious form of code-switching would be the effect of having an inadequate grasp of the English language. This form of code-switching, whether to Mandarin, Singlish or any other language, is probably a legitimate cause of concern and should impel us to teach better English or teach English better.
The other form of code-switching is, however, a blessing. No matter how proficient you are in
English, there will always be some things that are better said in Mandarin or Singlish. Perhaps the emotional equivalent is absent for the speaker or listener when it is said in English, or perhaps some aspect of meaning is lost in translation.
As an example of the former, ask any Singaporean who has been abroad for a long time and stumbles upon a group of people in a Starbucks outlet sounding the unmistakable strains of Singlish. The use of Singlish in such a context evokes an emotional response that, I daresay, would be absent if the group had been speaking perfect and flawless English replete with an accent that most Westerners would understand.
As for definitional meaning, while I am most comfortable with the English language, I feel that some things can be adequately expressed only in Singlish, and some things better said in Mandarin than English as well. I have often faltered when trying to describe an Ah Beng to a non-Singaporean. After all, a Beng is not a 'hooligan' or a 'delinquent' or a 'ruffian' or... You get my point.
This is not the consequence of not appreciating the richness of the Oxford English Dictionary but, rather, recognising the limitations inherent in any language and, for that matter, all
languages. After all, there are always moments in life that are truly ineffable.
Switching tongues out of necessity need not always be an urgent matter to deal with, and sometimes out of necessity we can but hold our tongues.

Wahlau eh! A lot of long words there. But anyway, it kind of serves to reinforce the beauty and expressiveness of Singlish which I pointed out earlier.

PS: The Singlish example in the letter means, "Wow! (or similar exclamation) the dude is like a lady!". Well, more or less. It seemed to fit the Aerosmith song pretty well.

The Art of the 'Lah'

2005-02-21T14:08:00.000+08:00

I had the most ear-tearing-out-able experience today. Coming up with me in the lift this afternoon was a tall German guy. He was accompanied by a couple of his local Chinese colleagues, and in his attempt to fit in and sound cool and act like a localised expat, he was liberally peppering his speech with the word 'Lah'.

Ok, that's not too bad - people who know me know that I do it too; but it wasn't the fact that he was doing it, it was the way he did it that made me want to plug some parsley into my ears. Examples:

I think lah, that he should ask for a transfer lah.
Are you going up to the 18th floor also lah?

All this in a thick German accent. And two women he was with were lapping it up, undoubtedly impressed by how hard an 'angmoh' was trying to fit in here and speak Singlish (Singaporean English).

All of which irritated me (and my delicate ears) to no end. Having spent a substantial amount of time in this country and having worked (and played) with countless Singaporeans, I have done some small amount of research on the word 'Lah' (and its many cousins) and their usage in contemporary Singlish.

I present: "The Art of the 'Lah'".

Singlish is a curious mix of English, Malay, Mandarin Chinese and Hokkien. With an English base, it borrows words liberally from all of these languages, adds in the Chinese (lack of) grammar, all rendered in a lovely Singaporean twang. The beauty of Singlish lies in its brevity. When we would normally say, 'Have you eaten your meal yet?', locals here say, 'Got makan onnot?', resulting in a grand saving of 3 syllables. Or better still, 'Are you sure it is possible?' becomes an elegant 'Can meh?'.

Not going into details, there are 4 'words' which are most expressive. These (of which 'lah' is the most common by far) serve to add nuances and punctuation to the brief Singlish sentences.

'Lah' - a statement of assertion or encouragement. For example, "Ok lah, enough of standing downstairs, let's go upstairs!"
'Leh' - expressing irritation or impatience. For example, "I press press press, still the lift never come down leh!"
'Mah' - somewhat explanatory. For example, "Naturally the lift will not come down, you never pressed the correct button mah..."
'Meh' - an enquiry, or 'are you sure?'. For example, "Wrong button meh? You sure or not?"

All combined together, and with the addition of some nice interjections, they produce a beautiful symphony of pleasing sounds:

"Ok lah, enough of standing downstairs, let's go upstairs!". "Aiyoh, I press press press, still the lift never come down leh!". "Alamak, naturally the lift will not come down, you never pressed the correct button mah...". "Wrong button meh? You sure or not?"

Aah.

And that, my friends, is the Art of the 'Lah'.

Average Eye

2005-02-21T12:49:00.000+08:00

My sis has her own blog up - you can see it here. 100 points for guessing the meaning behind the name :)

So much money, none for me...

2005-02-18T14:38:00.000+08:00

My company just doubled its profits this year to over 2 billion dollars. Sadly I won't be seeing a cent of it. It sucks being on contract.

Egypt Reloaded

2005-02-18T14:31:00.000+08:00

Jonathan visited Egypt over the last 2 weeks as well. He's compiled a large set of photographs and his own travelogue at his website. It's good reading.

The rest of his writings are very very funny as well. Especially TLG: The Latecomer's Guide.

My new project

2005-02-17T16:02:00.000+08:00

Ever since I located this page: The most common Chinese characters, I've been planning to learn to read Chinese on my own. Most courses teach approximately 160 to 200 characters in a Level 1 course, over a period of about 2 months. That works out to 20-25 characters per week. And that's my target. By mid-April, I should be able to read (and understand!) the top 200 of these.

And by next week, I should cover the first 20:

的 [de]
一 [yī]
是 [shì]
不 [bù]
了 [le]
人 [rén]
我 [wǒ]
在 [zài]
有 [yǒu]
他 [tā]
这 [zhè]
中 [zhōng]
大 [dà]
来 [lái]
上 [shàng]
国 [guó]
个 [gè]
到 [dào]
说 [shuō]
们 [men]

Will keep you posted on my progress!

Q and A (aka Queer and Asinine)

2005-02-15T17:52:00.000+08:00

Just finished reading Q and A by Vikas Swarup (of the Indian IFS, as we are frequently reminded) over the weekend. It was a quick read and quite unputdownable. Both, because it was such tripe that I couldn't wait to finish it and see if there was anything to salvage at the end. As it turned out, I'd wasted much money and much time that I could have spent on doing the dishes or re-stitching buttons on my shirts, or making paper boats out of the hundreds of newspapers we still have around the house.

Actually I must correct myself - it's eminently putdownable, as I will demonstrate. First the story.

Eighteen-year old Ram Mohammad Thomas (oh dear), an illiterate waiter in Asia's biggest slum in Mumbai wins the top prize of Rs. 1 billion on W3B - Who Will Win a Billion but is framed for cheating by the show's producers.

Authored by IFS officer Vikas Swarup, 'Q and A' is told in 12 chapters as Ram pleads his case as to how a lifetime of experience led to his miraculous win. In each chapter, Ram relates a slice of his amazing life that gave him wisdom - or the luck - to answer the questions.

Ok, the concept is so ridiculously far fetched, but I'd still have let that pass had the individual stories (12 of them, one for each question) been of any merit. The anecdotes don't flow. They are not related in any way in time and space, so the reader tends to get confused as to how old the characters are at each point. Because of this you can't relate to the Ram and Salim. Then the whole gimmick of introducing popular Indian personalities into the story, albeit with thinly veiled names (such as Sachin Malvankar, India's top cricketer) is childish and patronising. It also displays a lack of imagination. And what's with the gay theme pervading the book?

And the revelation at the end - "I am Gudiya!" is downright predictable and... words fail me.

In my opinion, he could have written a better book, had he linked the individual stories better using time and place better, and not a game show as the common thread. Not that that would have done very well either; another problem is his style, alternately abrupt and long winded, reads more like an amateurish essay/first draft than a published work. This badly needed an editor.

I don't have a picture of this book, as Amazon doesn't have it up yet, but I will post one up soon, so you can avoid it at your local bookstore.

I hear that film rights have been optioned by the UK's Film Four and a London theatre producer is keen to transform it into a musical. Eek! Jane Lawson, senior editor of the Doubleday Transworld publishers, said it was a "rollicking story" and "one of the most exciting". My foot!

Some more thoughts on this book (and the author). I hope I have put it down sufficiently.

Black - the movie

2005-02-15T17:11:00.000+08:00

We watched Black on Sunday morning. Of late, we've started watching Hindi movies at the Sunday matinee slot at Bedok. Couple of reasons: it leaves our evenings free to go out with friends, and it costs less :)

Sa hates watching Hindi movies with me; while I normally enjoy the movies as escapism, she gets totally absorbed in them, and I tend to spoil her experience by whispering my comments to her about things I find ridiculous in the movie. Naturally these being Hindi movies, I have a LOT of comments, and naturally she gets very irritated.

Black shut me up, and I was quiet for the complete 2 hours and twenty minutes. Well, quiet except for the occasional sniffle; I can unashamedly say that I spent a fair amount of time alternately wiping the tears away from my eyes (discreetly, of course), and praising everything about the film: the concept, the execution, the acting, the technical excellence - everything was brilliant.

Amazing performances from Rani Mukherji (my favourite actress, but now I've realised she can act as well as look gorgeous), Amitabh Bachchan's best performance ever (and there have been some blinders in the past), and a revelation in the form of little Ayesha Kapoor.

I had a couple of small complaints about the movie though. One was in the way Michelle's environment was set up. Throughout the movie, I was not very clear where and in what time the movie was set - there were period costumes, old cars, Chaplin movies in old theatres, Hindi dialogues, English dialogues, British accents, Christian names... This had two effects on me - it tended to make the movie timeless and placeless, in the sense that the story could have happened anywhere and anytime. The director probably deliberately did this with the intention of focusing the audience's attention on the story and the characters. But it had the effect of niggling away at my brain throughout the movie.

The second complaint was Rani's Chaplin-like gait. That was quite silly I thought; I haven't seen any blind or deaf people walking awkwardly like that. But it's a minor thing, and didn't detract much from the movie itself.

You can read more thoughts (not mine) about the movie

Tourists on Sentosa

2005-02-11T23:09:00.000+08:00

We did the tourist thing yesterday, and visited Sentosa with our guests. I did a sensible thing and bought a guided tour for the guests and entry tickets for us both - I figured this would save us a lot of controversy and laziness in deciding where to go.

Our tour took us to the Underwater World, Dolphin Lagoon, Cinemania, and the Musical Fountain. Having visited the first two countless times, we sat that out, and visited the beach. The water was cool and the sand was soft. We decided to come back here later, when we're more free, and can spend a day on the beach.

The Cinemania was great, we saw two 'movies', one a Grand Prix kind of FPS adventure, and the other a roller coaster ride through a child's bedroom.

The Musical Fountain, strangely, had a queue stretching at least a hundred metres. So we avoided it and instead went for a round-the-island tour on the monorail. Good fun.

Returned home around 11 pm, and crashed out.

2005-02-11T22:58:00.000+08:00

Flowers at East Coast beach

2005-02-11T22:57:00.000+08:00

Red lanterns for Chinese New Year

The world's tallest man

2005-02-11T22:47:00.000+08:00

In today's "Today" newspaper, there was an article on the world's tallest man and his visit to Singapore. Here's a couple of lines from the article:

"The two men [Mr Muhammad Riyaz (2.34m) and Mr Azad Khan Mahsood (2.39m)] ... are touring the world before heading for London, where MrAzad is to supply updated information for his entry in the Guinness Book of World Records"

Um, "updated information"? What could have changed since his last update? I mean, he's in his 30s or 40s and his height shouldn't have changed in the past 15 years, is still Pakistani, still male, still alive.

They're tall, but not the tallest ever. Robert Wadlow, at 8' 11'', stood over 2" taller than me!

2005-02-08T14:01:00.000+08:00

I took this photo a couple of years ago on Singapore's National Day, while waiting for the fireworks display to begin. The unconventional shape of the bridge and the reflected colours in the water attracted my attention, but now I just love the beautiful colour of the sky and the people walking along the bridge.

Spring Cleaning for Chinese New Year

2005-02-07T16:07:00.000+08:00

It's the Chinese New Year on Wednesday, and Singapore will pretty much shut down between Tuesday afternoon and Thursday, and usher in the Year of the Rooster. Naturally most people have taken the Monday, Tuesday and Friday off as well, and are basking in the sun on some beach somewhere. The office is quiet and bus this morning wasn't as jam packed as it would normally be on a Monday morning.

So we're still in Singapore, and have spent the weekend stocking up on groceries, especially since Ku, Ar and Sh are visiting from Hongkong tonight.

Sa has spent all day today spring cleaning the house along with the maid. Most of the work will be concentrated in the kitchen, where we have to do some serious re-organisation. I'm a clean freak (well, as long as I don't see the dirt, it's ok), and will enjoy coming back to a freshly cleaned house this evening.

Anyway, the plan for the holiday is to visit the Zoo and the Night Safari, Sentosa, and the Jurong Bird Park. Miraculously, these attractions are open over the New Year period. We will also visit Chinatown (suprisingly my first time there during CNY in all these years in Singapore). It's sure to be quite spectacular. Will post photos from there soon.

Bizarre Elevator - (aka my attempt at poetry)

2005-02-07T13:55:00.000+08:00

My friend Jon says:
"K is a poet,
and he didn't know-et"

"12th cafetaria" says the computerised voice of my elevator.
As we reach the 15th storey
Ellie (as we've named her) has obviously gone off her rocker.
Who's scrambled her memory?

"Storey cafetaria" she drones monotonously a while later -
(Not quite monotonously though,
She has this little lilt in her voice - love her or hate her)-
when we're on the 19th floor.

Something's clearly wrong, something's not quite right:
"Storey" doesn't equal "cafetaria"!
And it upsets me no end, and I've been awake all night -
I've been thinking about this mysteria.

For Ellie doesn't get this way often, something must have upset her
For her to go off her rocker thus -
Perhaps she's had just one too many rapid-button-presser
Summoning her (faster! faster!) to the 1st.

Whatever the case, she needs something to rewire her crossed circuits.
For mixed messages (to quote Bush)
Confuse the people, and there's definitely going to be no dearth
Of silly people who're going to press and push...

In the meantime it's going to be 19 floors of delirious hysteria
As we collapse in laughter
Listening to Ellie solemnly intone "3rd cafetaria" and then "5th cafetaria"
And on and on at every odd floor thereafter.

Fun in Hong Kong!

2005-02-07T13:51:00.000+08:00

I was in Hong Kong earlier this week, and I'd been looking forward to this trip - if not for the pleasure of visiting a new country, then certainly for the joy of hearing the very unique 'Christian' names that Hongkongers adopt.

My interest in the modern HK name was piqued when I read about the Apple Daily (a noted and oft quoted HK newspaper), and heard names like Ankely Ip and Morrisson Leung. Neither is particularly bizarre, but they caught my attention. So when I got here, one of the first things I did was to pull up my company's staff directory and pore through it. It's conveniently also provided in an Excel format - that made my life easier.

I started through it, and passed over the normal names like Edith, Amy, John, Philip. Then I wandered into the vaguely literary/European flowery - with Grumman, Heymman, Pierre, Byron, Antonio, Portia and Edythe.

Then the truly bizarre - Benniff (inspired by Gigli of Ben Affleck and J Lo fame?), Area (might have been a large person, I don't know), Running (her surname wasn't Away, in case you're wondering), Be (not Bop, but Leung), a few food items - Futtucine, Maize, Water and Milk, weather related names - Wind (and its derivative Windy), Summer and Winter. Two vaguely chemical name popped up - Chloris (I'd hate to have a name which sounds like a toilet bowl cleaner) and Florine (white teeth!).

What about Lambo Wong - couldn't his parents spell the name of their favourite mercenary? We have to give the prize for least imagination to Joseph and Rosamund, who I assume in a fit of inspiration, gave their son the imaginative name of Joemund. I came across Unique, Novel, Example (yes really) and Choice. Valiant, Winsome and Braveheart. Perhaps these were qualities that optimistic parents desired from their offspring.

That certainly can't be said about Zero, who in conjunction with her last name Shum, is my winner for best full name. Decem Wun and Novem Chen were interesting names. If they had put in a"Ber" in between, they'd have been perfect dates. Another nice combination was Sting Yip, which I like to call a cause and effect name. Then there was Sominnie Wong, which reminded me of my Maths teacher's comments on my examination papers.

I'm not going to say anything about Pandora's box. I certainly haven't seen it.

Egypt: End of Travelogue

2005-02-07T13:26:00.000+08:00

I stopped keeping notes at this point, so this travelogue ends here. You'll just have to use your imagination for the next 3 days :)

Egypt: Day 10 - Aswan Dam and Abu Simbel

2005-02-07T13:24:00.000+08:00

Up early again! 6.30 am this time. We perform our usual morning ablutions and proceed for breakfast. Mr Nasser forces us to chat with him for a while, and we also meet the famous 'John Cairo', an Englishman who comes to Egypt in the autumn and winter seasons and plies his felucca down the Nile. Soon a darkish chap appears at the door and hauls us off to a van outside. We drive around Aswan a bit, picking up a few other passengers - a honeymooning English couple and a mysterious and very silent chap with a red bag. Then we drive on to Aswan airport, which as most airports is located away from the city. It's quite a nice building and pretty well kept. I guess it's unsurprising considering the number of tourists who must be coming here every day to visit Abu Simbel. On the way to the airport, we cross the old Aswan Dam. The road across the top is very narrow, just one lane each way [the dam was built in 1917 I think], and paved with bricks. It's a very harrowing and very bumpy couple of minutes across the dam. Soon we reach the airport at 8 am, and chance upon our good pals Tony and Julio there too. Their EgyptAir flight has been cancelled, and so we introduce them to the dark chap, and try and get them on our flight, which as we will soon realise is run by Air Memphis. This is beginning to sound better and better [not].

Aswan airport is also used as an Egyptian Air Force fighter base, and we see quite a few fighter aircraft landing on the runway, complete with the decelerating parachute behind. There's an interminable wait, during which we realise we're flying Air Memphis with another 100 or so people. Too late, we've paid up already. There another massive group of Aussie kids, who're busy dancing at the airport. Quite amusing to watch them. Finally, we walk out of the terminal towards the aircraft - I can't tell what it is but it's a single aisle 3 x 2 seater.

Egypt: Day 9 - Edfu and Aswan

2005-02-07T13:21:00.000+08:00

Good morning. For once, we're up at 6 am and not feeling too bad about it. Must be the amount we slept last night. After packing our stuff, we go downstairs and rouse everyone. We don't feel too bad about it as there's a French couple who's also leaving together with us. After a quick breakfast, we're off to the station. The station is nearby so we walk it, and at 7.30, we're on and off. Egypt's a pretty small place we realise - there's a whole lot of people from yesterday's morning tour that we meet at the station. All are going to either Edfu or Aswan. We find two empty seats, and when the TC comes along, we buy two tickets to Edfu. 9 am, we're there.

The Temple of Horus

We take a cab to the Temple and purchase the tickets at the counter for a now predictable LE 20. Rather reluctantly we have to leave our backpacks at the security counter, and we go inside the Temple. It's big. Massive is the word. The Temple is dedicated to the god Horus - the son of Osiris [the original mummy], and Isis. Horus is the god of life and good things, Satya informs me. No wonder the size of this temple. Those ancient Egyptians had their priorities right! We sit at the temple for a while - we have time to kill. This temple again has 3 chambers, and the innermost has a pink granite sanctum sanctorum, which is exquisitely carved. Carving hieroglyphics into granite is no joke, and one can only marvel at the art and the skills of the masons and artists. There were two large granite statues of Horus in his falcon form outside the temple; only one remains now. Satya sits to the side and sketches it in his journal. About noonish, we leave and head back to the station. I buy a couple of apples for lunch and Satya buys 2 cheap tickets in the unreserved compartment to Aswan. No one can say we don't travel in style. It strikes me then that so far, we have travelled by bus, train, bicycle, minibus, felucca, balloon, taxi and horse carriage and will be flying in the next couple of days too. Cool.

So we land up in Aswan at 2 pm and on schedule. On the way out of the station, we spy a tourist office and walk in. The local tourist officer subtly convinces us take the trip to Abu Simbel, and thereby contribute to the local economy. We are convinced and promise to return after checking into a hotel. We walk down to the Rosewan Hotel and check into room number 206, after a short chat with the affable owner, a gentleman named Farouk Nasser. More on him later. After checking in, we return to the tourist centre and get ourselves booked on the next morning's tour of Abu Simbel with a local travel agency. Bye Bye USD 100. At the tourist centre, we meet a young man called Montnasser who takes us to the bank and to whom we pay the cash. Very nice chap, and he knows more about Hindi movies and gossip than the two of us together. But then that's probably no feat.

Back to the hotel, we start chatting with Mr Nasser. He used to be working on the Aswan High Dam project, in charge of HR. After retirement, he now runs this hotel and paints in his spare time. And what paintings! All abstract - very reminiscent of my art teacher back in primary school [Hi Mr Gajjar!]. Pretty incomprehensible, but strangely soothing. The main characters in his paintings are women, chickens and pharaonic symbols such as ankhs and eyes. I can't get the connection. The problem with showing too much interest in things in Egypt is that it is automatically assumed that you want to buy something. So it is with Nasser. He invites us to tea and to discuss his work. But we are by now hardened veterans of these tricks, and we postpone the session until the next evening.

Every city in Egypt that lies on the banks of the Nile has a Corniche running alongside the river, and Aswan is no exception. That evening, we walk down to the Corniche-el-Nil [aka Corneesh Road]. The view of the Nile here is probably the best in Egypt and as the sun sets, it is simply SPECTACULAR. Brilliant blue waters with stark brown hillocks behind and white feluccas sailing serenely down. This place seems to be the focal point of civilisation in this town. What people say about Aswan seems to be mostly true. People don't seem to hassle you here as much as other cities. There are a lot of shops along the main road, banks, travel agencies and jewellery shops being the majority. It's a pretty long and winding road - we end up pretty winded at the end, if you'll pardon the pun.

Nubian Museum

At the end of the Corniche is the road that leads to the Nubian Museum. We walk up and presently find ourselves in front of a large and pretty ostentatious building. Surprisingly, the building houses a very modern, spacious and well laid out display, but it lacks the warmth that the Cairo museum exudes. That being said, the content and layout of the Museum are very well conceived. And the toilets are great, as I soon discover. The museum covers the history of Egypt from prehistoric times to modern days. There's a wealth of information on the two dams, and the moving of the Temples at Abu Simbel and the Temple of Philae. By the time we're done, we're frozen, and our feet are aching. We trudge back to the Rosewan - it's time to sleep, we have another early departure tomorrow.

Egypt: Day 8 - Valley of the Kings and Queens

2005-02-07T13:19:00.000+08:00

Balloon Ride over the West Bank

We're up at 4.30 am, and get ready and leave for the balloon ride. Amr [one of the guys whom we paid the money to] comes to our hotel and picks us up, and drives down to the Nile's bank. There we join a boatload of other people - mostly retirees and one couple on their honeymoon. We gather it's the guy's third marriage. The two of us feel very young and very out of place on that boat. A complimentary tea / coffee follows, and amidst some chatter we reach the West Bank. Two vans await us there and we climb in and get introduced to the two 'pilots' who are brothers; later one of them will fly the balloon for us. Flying a balloon is apparently quite a science, and factors like wind speeds and directions play a role in deciding when and where to take off from, if we do indeed take off. We drive around for a while, and the pilots let off small helium balloons periodically and wait and watch as they ascend to the clouds. Finally, we stop at one place, and the brothers announce that we will take off around 6.30 am.

The support crew of 10 or so then swings into action while the pilots flirt with the grandmas among the 14 of us. They [the support crew] get the balloon and the basket off the truck and on the ground and start inflating the balloon. Meanwhile, as the balloon gets ready, the younger brother, who has announced himself to be our pilot, briefs us on safety matters and how to stand when the balloon lands. At long last, the balloon is inflated, we are briefed and we climb into the basket. Up and away! It's a trifle tight in the basket, but with the view I'm getting, it's not a concern. The ride lasts about 50 minutes, during which we hover over the Temple of Ramesses III and the Colossi of Memnon, and rise to a height of a few hundred feet. The basket is unexpectedly stable and the whole balloon is manoeuvrable in ways I couldn't have imagined.

But all good things come to an end, and after an exhilarating hour, we are down again. The final segment of the 'ride' is a silly, but hilarious and entertaining song and dance routine performed by the crew. After another round of 'shay' [tea], we all get complimentary t-shirts and a papyrus certificate declaring that we did the balloon ride in Luxor. I'm blessed that my name is relatively easy to spell, and is printed pretty ok on the certificate. Satya's on the other hand is mauled.

Time is running short as we have our West Bank tour scheduled in the morning, so we rush back to the hotel, have a spot of breakfast, and join the waiting tour bus outside. There are about 30 of us in a minibus as we drive the long drive down to the new bridge over the Nile, cross the river and get to the West Bank. Deja view.

Valley of the Kings and Queens

The West Bank is divided into a few Valleys, most notable of which are KV [Valley of the Kings], QV [V. of the Queens], NV [V. of the Noblemen] and WV [V. of the Workers]. Each of the valleys is littered with tombs, built up over centuries. Apparently, there are no records of the locations of the tombs, and while building the tombs, it was quite common to cut into older tombs. At this point, the builders would then tangent off and continue in another direction or downwards. There is currently a large scale project on called the Theban Mapping Project [Thebes was the ancient name of Luxor]. This project has recently unearthed the largest tomb to be discovered so far - that of the sons of Ramesses II. We start off at QV, and visit the tombs of Queen Titi and her son [QV, despite its name, includes the tombs of Princes and Princesses too]. Nearby is the tomb of Neferteri, which is supposed to be the most beautiful tomb of all. We don't get an opportunity to go inside, as only 150 people are allowed in everyday, and the LE 100 tickets are sold out by 6.30 am. After that we visit KV, and enter the tombs of Ramesses IX, Amenophis IV and Seti II [the latter was a son of Ramesses II]. There were a few reasons for the selection of this area for the necropolis - it was away from the Nile [and therefore safe from flooding] and on high ground, the geology of the place meant that the tombs could be hidden quite easily from tomb robbers, and the fact that there was a pyramid-shaped peak nearby.

After KV and QV, we drive over to the Temple of Hatshepsut, the only female Pharaoh in ancient Egypt. The temple was built for her by her lover, a very famous architect called Senenmut, and was partially destroyed earlier this century as a result of an earthquake; it was later reconstructed. Finally we proceed to the Colossi of Memnon - 2 colossal statues that tower over the villages below. One of the two statues had a cavity in the centre and the wind used to make a moaning sound when it blew across the statues. To the Greeks who occupied Egypt, it sounded like a mythological character who cried upon the death of her son Memnon. The statues have been patched, but the name remains.

We meet an interesting chap on this trip, a Brit movie set designer who had worked on the original Star Wars trilogy. This chap's wife is Iranian, and he was one of the hostages in the '79 Iranian hostage crisis. He was released when it was discovered that his wife was Iranian. These days, every time his wife visits Iran, he visits Egypt, and studies heiroglyphics.

Return to Luxor city and have a late lunch at one of the small restaurants near the hotel, and go to the station to buy our tickets to Edfu the following morning. "Buy tickets on train! Buy tickets on train!", so we walk back to the hotel. Who should we meet on the way, but our trusty and overly affectionate limpet Mohammed. He urges us to join him for a tea. We relent, and after the tea and some small talk, we get back to the Sherif hotel, and decide to retire for the day. After all, it has been a terribly exciting and strenuous day today, and we have to wake up early - got a train to catch.