Coming to India one of the things I was looking forward to was the music, and excitement of Bollywood. In Jaipur we went to a famous movie theatre (picture an Indian version of the Civic in Auckland) to see a new release Partner. It was an appalling remake of Hitch, with some gangsters and a cute kid thrown into the mix for no apparent reason. The one benefit of this was that the lack of English subtitles was no hindrance to me understanding the plot, whilst I don't think anyone was expected to understand the connections between some of the song/dance routines and the storyline. Having said that, the songs were catchy and you had to cheer along with the vocal audience when they came on, as well as every time the steroid produced love interest tore off his shirt/slash had his white shirt soaked in water.
As most of you know I love to dance, and Bollywood music is just my sort of cheesy thing! We have been practicing our moves under the tutelage of Binu our guide through out the trip, at the tail end of wedding processions, on boats cruising down the river and on the night train. So we were all pretty confident that when we hit the nightclubs in Kolkata last night we would be a hit on the dance floor (other than the fact that 7 foreigners would stand out just a little). Once again we were disappointed - no pure Bollywood cheese to show off our perfected dry yourself with a towel/screw the light bulb moves, no Bollywood has gone Trance! Don't worry we didn't let that stop us, and we definitely entertained, if not scared, everyone on the dance floor. But tonight the last 4 of us that remain from the group are going out in search of something a little more pure. It seems like a fitting end to 25 days in India, dancing the night away to the beats of Bollywood old style!
29 July 2007
23 July 2007
Indian Transportation
Having travelled the way the locals do for the last two weeks in India I now feel equipped to write a novel on the subject. No need to panic though, I'll just give you a few observations...
My Intrepid trip is a Basix option, which roughly translated means no air con, local buses (no air con), and very few frills. However I feel that I have been able to get a handle on the 'real' India, or at least that is what I tell myself as I look in scorn (read envy) at the tourists whizzing past our over packed bus in their air conned private vehicle. It has also meant that I have a new found understanding of fear.
My modes of transportation so far have ranged from camel (OK, that doesn't really count as it was not on the main road), cycle rickshaw, auto rickshaw/tuk tuk, motorbike, bus, roof of bus, and finally taxi. Each of them has their own elements of fun and fear. We have discovered that as a group we are almost as good as the locals at squeezing into tuk tuks, our record so far is 9 plus driver (a few more than the 3 it is designed for). However our attempts to blend in always fail, and the sight of so many white bodies hanging off a moving vehicle creates endless amusement for the local population. There is also the constant fear that an overhanging limb may be taken off by a passing cow/bike/car/bus. The sight of a bus being within a foot of your face is also a little nerve wracking, particularly given the poor state of repair many of them are in.
Bus travel in and of itself also offers some nerve wracking experiences. We have been lucky enough to always have seats for our long distance hauls (the longest of which was 8 hours, six of which went by with out a toilet stop!), the downside of sitting however is that those standing can stare down at you to their hearts content - which they do! The buses also believe that speed is the best approach in all situations, whether that be trying to squeeze through a gap before a truck, scare roaming cows off the road, or hurry someone's disembarkment. This has lead to a few white knuckles as I swear two wheels have left the road as the bus tips sideways. On the whole I've decided that travelling on the roof top is more enjoyable - an opportunity I have only had once, on a 45 minute weave through a mountain pass from Ajmer to Pushka. The sight of 5 westerners on top of the bus (particularly 3 women) was just to much for those on the side of the road to cope with, but the fresh air was a welcome change from the pleasant aroma long distance buses create inside.
This afternoon I made use of a cyclo-rickshaw for the first time (no motorised vehicles are allowed in the streets around the Taj Mahal to cut back on pollution), and that just made me feel guilty. The grandfather that was struggling to peddle Fiona and I along the streets was probably only a third of our weights combined, and at times we were hardly moving. Yet the wiry old guide was still able to keep up a constant argument for the benefits of the Taj, his brother's shop, using him as a guide tomorrow...
Scariest of all though had to be the long distance taxi ride. A few of us had succumbed to the inevitable Indian tummy issues whilst in Pushkar and decided that a bus ride with no control over toilet stops may not have been a sanitary option. So we chipped in together to get to Jaipur by taxi. I made the fatal mistake of sitting in the front seat! The scariest thing about being on the roads in India - actually seeing what is happening in front of you!
But the long trips on the road are coming to an end for me. Our last two long hauls are by train, to Varanassi tomorrow and then a few days later to Calcutta. The question that remains now... what are the budget domestic flights like? I still have one of those remaining to get me back to Delhi. They may be a story on their own!
My Intrepid trip is a Basix option, which roughly translated means no air con, local buses (no air con), and very few frills. However I feel that I have been able to get a handle on the 'real' India, or at least that is what I tell myself as I look in scorn (read envy) at the tourists whizzing past our over packed bus in their air conned private vehicle. It has also meant that I have a new found understanding of fear.
My modes of transportation so far have ranged from camel (OK, that doesn't really count as it was not on the main road), cycle rickshaw, auto rickshaw/tuk tuk, motorbike, bus, roof of bus, and finally taxi. Each of them has their own elements of fun and fear. We have discovered that as a group we are almost as good as the locals at squeezing into tuk tuks, our record so far is 9 plus driver (a few more than the 3 it is designed for). However our attempts to blend in always fail, and the sight of so many white bodies hanging off a moving vehicle creates endless amusement for the local population. There is also the constant fear that an overhanging limb may be taken off by a passing cow/bike/car/bus. The sight of a bus being within a foot of your face is also a little nerve wracking, particularly given the poor state of repair many of them are in.
Bus travel in and of itself also offers some nerve wracking experiences. We have been lucky enough to always have seats for our long distance hauls (the longest of which was 8 hours, six of which went by with out a toilet stop!), the downside of sitting however is that those standing can stare down at you to their hearts content - which they do! The buses also believe that speed is the best approach in all situations, whether that be trying to squeeze through a gap before a truck, scare roaming cows off the road, or hurry someone's disembarkment. This has lead to a few white knuckles as I swear two wheels have left the road as the bus tips sideways. On the whole I've decided that travelling on the roof top is more enjoyable - an opportunity I have only had once, on a 45 minute weave through a mountain pass from Ajmer to Pushka. The sight of 5 westerners on top of the bus (particularly 3 women) was just to much for those on the side of the road to cope with, but the fresh air was a welcome change from the pleasant aroma long distance buses create inside.
This afternoon I made use of a cyclo-rickshaw for the first time (no motorised vehicles are allowed in the streets around the Taj Mahal to cut back on pollution), and that just made me feel guilty. The grandfather that was struggling to peddle Fiona and I along the streets was probably only a third of our weights combined, and at times we were hardly moving. Yet the wiry old guide was still able to keep up a constant argument for the benefits of the Taj, his brother's shop, using him as a guide tomorrow...
Scariest of all though had to be the long distance taxi ride. A few of us had succumbed to the inevitable Indian tummy issues whilst in Pushkar and decided that a bus ride with no control over toilet stops may not have been a sanitary option. So we chipped in together to get to Jaipur by taxi. I made the fatal mistake of sitting in the front seat! The scariest thing about being on the roads in India - actually seeing what is happening in front of you!
But the long trips on the road are coming to an end for me. Our last two long hauls are by train, to Varanassi tomorrow and then a few days later to Calcutta. The question that remains now... what are the budget domestic flights like? I still have one of those remaining to get me back to Delhi. They may be a story on their own!
13 July 2007
Camel Safari
I've just got back from my jaunt into the Thar desert on the back of a camel. I think it took me almost as long to remover the sand from my body as it did to ride out into the desert!
Other than the sand it was a great experience, I haven't decided that I love camels - but I don't dislike them as much anymore. We rode out past some small villages, getting to see little kids tend the herds of goats and eagles try and take off with them. We only had to travel for about 2 hours by camel (which was more than enough) to reach our camp site. We were in the middle of the sand dunes, which I guess explains the sand, and had some basic cot like beds set up under the stars. Somehow the guides had managed to keep the beer cold on the trek in and we happily consumed a few to stay cool - it was only 43 degrees!
The night was spent playing cards, listening and dancing to a few Bollywood tunes and watching a million stars go by. Perhaps not an authentic experience, but a fun one none the less.
This afternoon 6 ours on the local bus to Jodhpur - should be fun!?!
Other than the sand it was a great experience, I haven't decided that I love camels - but I don't dislike them as much anymore. We rode out past some small villages, getting to see little kids tend the herds of goats and eagles try and take off with them. We only had to travel for about 2 hours by camel (which was more than enough) to reach our camp site. We were in the middle of the sand dunes, which I guess explains the sand, and had some basic cot like beds set up under the stars. Somehow the guides had managed to keep the beer cold on the trek in and we happily consumed a few to stay cool - it was only 43 degrees!
The night was spent playing cards, listening and dancing to a few Bollywood tunes and watching a million stars go by. Perhaps not an authentic experience, but a fun one none the less.
This afternoon 6 ours on the local bus to Jodhpur - should be fun!?!
12 July 2007
Surviving India!
I have now been in India for almost a week - what an experience! I arrived in Delhi last Friday night and was very glad that I had organised an airport pick up for the first time in my life. It saved me from the grabbing masses, and meant that I didn't have to deal with the "sorry mam, your hotel is closed for reservations type scams". I spent my first two days adjusting to the maddening pace, the heat and the constant call outs before my tour started. I managed to get to a couple of the sights using subway and rickshaw, and was lucky enough to escape with my life when the rickshaw I was driving in nearly slammed into the side of another that had gone through a life. The 3 inches between the rickshaws was just a little close for my liking!
The first real India moment though was definitely the public bus ride with our tour guide to get into Old Delhi. All 12 of us had to get into a bus that was basically spewing its passengers onto the road already. Our precise military plan had half of us taking the front door and half the back. I charged onto the front steps and basically let myself be pushed onto the bus by the human tide behind me. Once on I was pushed towards the middle, standing with absolutely no personal space. and nothing to hold on to. Obviously being a white women in this situation it was an open option for some one to cope a feel, which one charming young man clearly felt it was his obligation to do - with out much enthusiasm. Binu our guide was so concerned about pick pockets and keeping an eye on us, that he didn't realise when he had his phone swipped from a pocket!
Old Delhi was exactly the noisy, bustling, smelly, fascinating place you would expect. I bought chai masala tea from the spice markets, and haggled over the prices of nuts to take on the train journey. I'd try and upload the photos of the rickshaw traffic jam which can only be described in pictures, but the internet speed is so slow it would take all day.
From Old Delhi we headed to the train station for a 19 hour trip to Jaisalmer. After eating fried pakora on the railway station we headed off into the desert. We had sleeper trains and managed to kill the time to bed with cards and getting to know the group. Sleep was a little more tricky courtesy of the snoring, farting Indian gentleman that was close to Fiona and I. The next morning spirits were high, however as the 19 hours dragged on to 24 patience started to wain. Once we got off I was again reminded of the wisdom of doing a tour in India, as I watched the other white faces being engulfed in a sea of pushing and shouting rickshaw drivers. The long trip was worth it however from the moment the fort in Jaisalmer appeared.
Jaisalmer is a forted city that was built in 1100AD. For the last two nights I have slept in one of the turrets on the outside wall of the fort, and have spent many lazy hours sitting on the roof top watching the world go by with a cold beer or chai tea in my hand. Wandering around the crooked alleys of the inner fort is amazing, and dangerous. Cows wander the streets with carefree abandon, and before you start thinking of sweet cows with lovely brown eyes let me correct you. These cows are big, with big horns and big attitudes. My first day I was head butted by one and then slipped over as I tried to get out of its way and stood in a cow pat that sent me skidding - I swear I could hear the cow laughing! The rest of my group definitely was! There are lots of amazing little shops selling all sorts of bits and bobs, although I have been remarkably controlled so far - probably because I already have many of the things from my trips to Sri Lanka and Nepal. I do however have a new sari and am looking forward to wearing it out to the nightclub we have been promised in Kolkata.
Tonight we head out on an overnight camel safari. I have very romantic notions of music and dance under the stars. I'll let you know what it is really like next time!
The first real India moment though was definitely the public bus ride with our tour guide to get into Old Delhi. All 12 of us had to get into a bus that was basically spewing its passengers onto the road already. Our precise military plan had half of us taking the front door and half the back. I charged onto the front steps and basically let myself be pushed onto the bus by the human tide behind me. Once on I was pushed towards the middle, standing with absolutely no personal space. and nothing to hold on to. Obviously being a white women in this situation it was an open option for some one to cope a feel, which one charming young man clearly felt it was his obligation to do - with out much enthusiasm. Binu our guide was so concerned about pick pockets and keeping an eye on us, that he didn't realise when he had his phone swipped from a pocket!
Old Delhi was exactly the noisy, bustling, smelly, fascinating place you would expect. I bought chai masala tea from the spice markets, and haggled over the prices of nuts to take on the train journey. I'd try and upload the photos of the rickshaw traffic jam which can only be described in pictures, but the internet speed is so slow it would take all day.
From Old Delhi we headed to the train station for a 19 hour trip to Jaisalmer. After eating fried pakora on the railway station we headed off into the desert. We had sleeper trains and managed to kill the time to bed with cards and getting to know the group. Sleep was a little more tricky courtesy of the snoring, farting Indian gentleman that was close to Fiona and I. The next morning spirits were high, however as the 19 hours dragged on to 24 patience started to wain. Once we got off I was again reminded of the wisdom of doing a tour in India, as I watched the other white faces being engulfed in a sea of pushing and shouting rickshaw drivers. The long trip was worth it however from the moment the fort in Jaisalmer appeared.
Jaisalmer is a forted city that was built in 1100AD. For the last two nights I have slept in one of the turrets on the outside wall of the fort, and have spent many lazy hours sitting on the roof top watching the world go by with a cold beer or chai tea in my hand. Wandering around the crooked alleys of the inner fort is amazing, and dangerous. Cows wander the streets with carefree abandon, and before you start thinking of sweet cows with lovely brown eyes let me correct you. These cows are big, with big horns and big attitudes. My first day I was head butted by one and then slipped over as I tried to get out of its way and stood in a cow pat that sent me skidding - I swear I could hear the cow laughing! The rest of my group definitely was! There are lots of amazing little shops selling all sorts of bits and bobs, although I have been remarkably controlled so far - probably because I already have many of the things from my trips to Sri Lanka and Nepal. I do however have a new sari and am looking forward to wearing it out to the nightclub we have been promised in Kolkata.
Tonight we head out on an overnight camel safari. I have very romantic notions of music and dance under the stars. I'll let you know what it is really like next time!
4 July 2007
Views of rural Cambodia
From the streets of Phnom Penh Mum and I retired to a home stay in rural Cambodia. Baray is a little dot on the landscape kind of place a couple of hours outside PP, surrounded by rice paddies and not much else. After an interesting share taxi ride there - three of us in the back seat, four in the front, we relaxed for two days as we were shown around by the villagers. The home stay is a community cooperative set up to compliment a craft co-op, and brings in some much needed extra money to the community.
These are just a few of the photos from our time there...
These are just a few of the photos from our time there...
29 June 2007
Finger nails and heart break
It is now a week since I got back from Cambodia and I have been putting off blogging about it because I don't know where to start. The background for those of you not in the know was that my mum and I decided to go and do some volunteer work at His Child, an orphanage just out of Phnom Penh that a couple from my church run. Not that we knew too much about what we were going to be doing, but it seemed like a good way to 'give back' and also have some quality mother/daughter time.
On arriving in Phnom Penh I quickly discovered that my teaching skills were not the ones that were going to be called in to play, instead I became a temperature taking, finger nail cutting, small children bathing, balloon twisting machine.
Our first two days with the orphanage everyone was involved in a medical initiative. A team of doctors and pharmacists from Singapore were there, and we went out into the communities (day one was a community that survived off the local rubbish dump) and met as many medical needs as possible. The first day the 4 doctors saw over 200 people, providing them with the necessary drugs and medical advice for medical issues ranging from diabetes and HIV/Aids to headaches and throat infections. This was all done in the extreme hot, 35 degrees and at least 95% humidity - and before you say "Kirsty, you live in temperatures like that all the time!", let me point out that there was no air-con, anywhere!
Once the medical team left we started helping out with the 'bus'. This bus goes out to different locations in the city and is met by large groups of street kids waiting for their weekly visit. The two hours that the kids spend with the bus is a chance for them to just be kids. When we would arrive step one was finger nail cutting. Yes, finger nail cutting. The kids loved this, I think it was just the one-on-one attention and physical contact - but it meant they were less likely to get infections and store quite as much gunk under their nails. From there games were played with water bombs, simple tiggy/cat and mouse type games, and generally lots of laughter and hilarity. Whilst this was going on the younger kids would be taken onto the bus that had showers and given a chance to get clean. It is hard to describe the feeling when you are having to bathe little 3-year olds that arrive butt naked all by themselves, or if they are lucky with a big brother or sister - it just breaks your heart. Once everyone is clean and had some fun the serious stuff starts and some of the local staff teach basic khmer and hygiene to the kids before they are sent off with some food. On one occasion I tried to teach 40 odd kids to make balloon flowers, it wasn't that successful but it was a lot of fun!
I quickly learnt while I was there that the kids in the orphanage were really the lucky ones. Whilst all 42 of them had ended up in the orphanage from crisis situations they knew where there meals were coming from everyday, went to school, and most importantly were protected from the streets. As so many other things that week taught me, our western perceptions, such as those 'poor orphans' can be very wrong.
I could go on for ages about how it felt to hold a little kid 's hand as you cut their nails knowing the life they live on the streets - absolutely heart breaking. But at least I feel like I did a little bit to make a difference, and I know that I don't want this to be the last time.
On arriving in Phnom Penh I quickly discovered that my teaching skills were not the ones that were going to be called in to play, instead I became a temperature taking, finger nail cutting, small children bathing, balloon twisting machine.
Our first two days with the orphanage everyone was involved in a medical initiative. A team of doctors and pharmacists from Singapore were there, and we went out into the communities (day one was a community that survived off the local rubbish dump) and met as many medical needs as possible. The first day the 4 doctors saw over 200 people, providing them with the necessary drugs and medical advice for medical issues ranging from diabetes and HIV/Aids to headaches and throat infections. This was all done in the extreme hot, 35 degrees and at least 95% humidity - and before you say "Kirsty, you live in temperatures like that all the time!", let me point out that there was no air-con, anywhere!
Once the medical team left we started helping out with the 'bus'. This bus goes out to different locations in the city and is met by large groups of street kids waiting for their weekly visit. The two hours that the kids spend with the bus is a chance for them to just be kids. When we would arrive step one was finger nail cutting. Yes, finger nail cutting. The kids loved this, I think it was just the one-on-one attention and physical contact - but it meant they were less likely to get infections and store quite as much gunk under their nails. From there games were played with water bombs, simple tiggy/cat and mouse type games, and generally lots of laughter and hilarity. Whilst this was going on the younger kids would be taken onto the bus that had showers and given a chance to get clean. It is hard to describe the feeling when you are having to bathe little 3-year olds that arrive butt naked all by themselves, or if they are lucky with a big brother or sister - it just breaks your heart. Once everyone is clean and had some fun the serious stuff starts and some of the local staff teach basic khmer and hygiene to the kids before they are sent off with some food. On one occasion I tried to teach 40 odd kids to make balloon flowers, it wasn't that successful but it was a lot of fun!
I quickly learnt while I was there that the kids in the orphanage were really the lucky ones. Whilst all 42 of them had ended up in the orphanage from crisis situations they knew where there meals were coming from everyday, went to school, and most importantly were protected from the streets. As so many other things that week taught me, our western perceptions, such as those 'poor orphans' can be very wrong.
I could go on for ages about how it felt to hold a little kid 's hand as you cut their nails knowing the life they live on the streets - absolutely heart breaking. But at least I feel like I did a little bit to make a difference, and I know that I don't want this to be the last time.
14 May 2007
A different view of Manila
A couple of weekends ago I got to go and hang out for a few days with some good friends in Manila. I know Jo and Nigel from high school and youth group days, and hanging out with them and their girls is just like being with family.
The weekend was very low key, mainly due to the fact that Tessa was just 3 weeks old, and the entire family were still recovering from the newest arrival and the trip back to Manila from NZ. Low key was also great for me, as I had just been on camp for three days with 4th graders. So mainly the weekend was catching up, sleeping and eating.
The weekend was very low key, mainly due to the fact that Tessa was just 3 weeks old, and the entire family were still recovering from the newest arrival and the trip back to Manila from NZ. Low key was also great for me, as I had just been on camp for three days with 4th graders. So mainly the weekend was catching up, sleeping and eating.
What was nice was to see a slightly different face to Manila than the one I think most of us imagine. That dark, dirty and extremely poor face is definitely a big part of Manila, as people begging at car windows when you stop at traffic lights makes clear. However, parts of Manila - like the waterfront area, are definitely seeing change. It's nice to know that there is hope!
10 May 2007
A conscience is a terrible thing.
As many of you know one of my joys here in Asia has always been the shopping. In fact it hasn't only been my joy, but also that of the many recipients of the importing of handbags to NZ when I fly home. This week a terrible thing has happened - my conscience has got in the way. Now I have always known that I was ripping off big movie producers (fake dvds) and fashion houses (fake handbags - sorry original copy handbags) but that thought never moved me to tears. However I have just read an article in Harper's Bazaar that talks about the use of child labour in the production of fake handbags, and the links between fakes and drug cartels. So it is bye, bye to cheap handbags, dvds and sunglasses - a sacrifice I am willing to make, but still sometimes your conscience really messes with shopping fun! Luckily there are lots of amazing bargains that aren't fakes - the credit card isn't safe yet.
Reunited!
After a long and painful separation I am finally reunited with internet access at home. First it was the internet account moving away, or more accurately the next door neighbour's account that I used moving away, then my less than 9 months old laptop had a battery melt down. It has taken 4 weeks, but tonight I am sitting at home on my computer again - bliss!
10 April 2007
A glimpse under the sea
A few of my underwater snapshots from the diving. The colour isn't great, but it gives you a bit of an idea of what was below the sea at Pulau Perhentian.
9 April 2007
Perhentian Paradise
Top 10 reasons why I love Pulau Perhentian
1. No roads, and no cars
2. Naps in the afternoon
3. Togs and sarong are the dress code all day long
4. Roti canai and strong Malaysian coffee for breakfast
5. Boat rides to dive sites with the sun on your back and wind in your hair
6. Being surrounded by a multitude of languages all speaking diving
7. The sugar ship wreck
8. Fresh seafood for dinner each night; rock lobster, calamari, prawns...
9. Eating 3 meals a day with the sand between your toes
10. Hanging out with the fish at least twice a day, and the odd shark, ray or eel!
And yes, if it sounds like all I do there is eat, sleep and dive, it is because that is all I do. Gotta love island life!
1. No roads, and no cars
2. Naps in the afternoon
3. Togs and sarong are the dress code all day long
4. Roti canai and strong Malaysian coffee for breakfast
5. Boat rides to dive sites with the sun on your back and wind in your hair
6. Being surrounded by a multitude of languages all speaking diving
7. The sugar ship wreck
8. Fresh seafood for dinner each night; rock lobster, calamari, prawns...
9. Eating 3 meals a day with the sand between your toes
10. Hanging out with the fish at least twice a day, and the odd shark, ray or eel!
And yes, if it sounds like all I do there is eat, sleep and dive, it is because that is all I do. Gotta love island life!
31 March 2007
Malaysian Tiki Tour I
After living in Malaysia for almost 3 years I decided that it was long past time to take a Malaysian road trip, or at least one that involves more than driving to the ferry departure point for a weekend diving. So with the 10 days of Spring Break ahead of us Andrea and I took off to the East Coast in my lovely little piece of Malaysian engineering (fully serviced before departure for an amazing RM39, or NZ $15 including a new headlight). The drive to Cherating, home of Club Med in Malaysia, was a simple one although we quickly discovered in a torrential down pour that the service had not included getting rid of the ear piercing squeak of the windscreen wipers. We decided to go a little upmarket for the first few days (not Club Med upmarket!) and stayed at a Legends, a resort we quickly discovered is mainly used by local Malays that looked at our bikini clad bodies beside the pool with horror whilst they were completely covered from head to toe. Luckily our pool hours were quite separate, they were leaving the pool by the time we had emerged from our rooms and we finished worshipping the sun around 5pm they decided it was safe to come out and not darken their complexions.
So Legends provided us with a nice few days of getting in to holiday mode; lots of amazing fresh seafood, sightings of hornbills, poisonous snakes and iguanas, and about five million mosquito bites currently causing me to want to chop my legs off at the knees.
Today we have driven north to Kuala Terengganu where we have done the town shopping area in ten minutes and are now heading back for a snooze before some banana leaf curry for dinner. Yum! Tomorrow we head further north up the East Coast (when I get a chance I'll post a map for those of you who like the visual props) and head over to paradise. 5 days diving in the Perhentians. Got to love life in Malaysia!
So Legends provided us with a nice few days of getting in to holiday mode; lots of amazing fresh seafood, sightings of hornbills, poisonous snakes and iguanas, and about five million mosquito bites currently causing me to want to chop my legs off at the knees.
Today we have driven north to Kuala Terengganu where we have done the town shopping area in ten minutes and are now heading back for a snooze before some banana leaf curry for dinner. Yum! Tomorrow we head further north up the East Coast (when I get a chance I'll post a map for those of you who like the visual props) and head over to paradise. 5 days diving in the Perhentians. Got to love life in Malaysia!
25 March 2007
Defending the Honor of the Expat Women
Last night I took to the kitchen in an attempt to defend the honor of my fellow expat women. Over lunch after church a few weeks ago some of my local friends (all males, I need to point out, some of whom in their late 20s still live at home), made some gross generalisations about expat women being unable to cook. Whilst I sprung to my peers and my own defense, arguing that not only could I cook but I cooked very well, I was laughed at. Now I am willing to admit that although I don't cook very often, I am more than capable. However when I can have an amazing meal of tandoori chicken, naan and spinach curry for 10RM (about NZ$4), and to buy the ingredients to cook something costs double it is hardly surprising. But this slur on my honor had the hackles rising and in a rash moment I had invited 10 people over to my place for dinner.
Now most of you who know me well know that I can't take a challenge sitting down, and of course ended up going a little over board on dinner. I will admit that I was also in the process of trying to impress one of the dinner guests in particular, which probably fueled the cooking frenzy a little more. But to cut a long story, which included four Venezuelan circus performers and 45 elementary students, short - I cooked a mighty fine Thai meal; a red and green Thai curry, spicy pork noodle salad, prawn and orange salad and papaya and green beans, topped off with chocolate silk tart and pavlova. So tonight after having even more friends round to eat the left overs (which I will be doing for a few more days), I feel very confident that I have proven my point to my local friends, expat women can cook and damn well if I say so myself. As to whether it impressed a certain person enough, for that I shall just have to wait and see.
Now most of you who know me well know that I can't take a challenge sitting down, and of course ended up going a little over board on dinner. I will admit that I was also in the process of trying to impress one of the dinner guests in particular, which probably fueled the cooking frenzy a little more. But to cut a long story, which included four Venezuelan circus performers and 45 elementary students, short - I cooked a mighty fine Thai meal; a red and green Thai curry, spicy pork noodle salad, prawn and orange salad and papaya and green beans, topped off with chocolate silk tart and pavlova. So tonight after having even more friends round to eat the left overs (which I will be doing for a few more days), I feel very confident that I have proven my point to my local friends, expat women can cook and damn well if I say so myself. As to whether it impressed a certain person enough, for that I shall just have to wait and see.
23 March 2007
A truly Malaysian moment
As I was waiting to meet a friend in KLCC today I had one of those moments when you realise that Malaysia, and KL in particular is unlike anywhere else. The blending of different cultures is evident everywhere. MAC cosmetics were doing a promotion, one that I truly hope is only happening in Asia, involving Barbie. Dressed in tacky blonde wigs, high heels and bright pink lipstick a range of Malay and Chinese assistants (both male and female) were doing makeovers. Whilst that in itself was interesting enough it was the tudong (Malay headscarf) wearing woman, covered pretty much everywhere but her face, being made up to look like Barbie, and to top it off singing along to the "I'm a Barbie girl" song.
It is being filed in the mental memory banks as one of those 'Malaysia truly Asia' moments. You have to love KL!
It is being filed in the mental memory banks as one of those 'Malaysia truly Asia' moments. You have to love KL!
16 March 2007
Kiwi National Dress
Today was one of the 'big' days on the ISKL calendar - International Day! I know that good old Rangi had international days when I was in high school, but it really doesn't compare. At ISKL we have 54 nationalities of children ranging from Angola to Zimbabwe with pretty much everything in between (Kazakhstan and Qatar anyone?). The vast majority of students dress up in their national dress for the day, and even the most annoying child looks like an angel. The range of hanbok, traditional Colombian dress and elegant Thai outfits is just stunning. However it always leaves me a little baffled - what exactly is New Zealand national dress?
Whilst I would love to have a pui-pui, and other traditional Maori trappings, I don't. I also have that little thought that it isn't really my cultural dress. So what do I do? The last couple of years I have warn my All Blacks jersey. It is definitely recognisable to most as belonging to New Zealand, but it makes me wonder about the depth of our 'kiwi' culture - is it really just rugby and beer. Partly because of this, and mainly because an AB jersey designed to wear to a night game at Eden Park in the middle of an Auckland winter is damn hot on a sunny Malaysian day in March (we hit 39 today!), I decided to do something a little different this year. I looked through my wardrobe, and those of you who know me well know that this is hardly limited, and was stumped. I have several NZ/Aotearoa t-shirts - koru designs and cute outlines of NZ all over, but once again not exactly national dress. In the end I decided to go for something truly iconic - the classic black singlet and jandals, topped off with my koru pounamu to add a bit of Maori culture. All day I have been asked if I was off to the gym/beach, but truth be known, I felt kiwi. Admitably as I stood next to students and colleagues in glamorous saris, kimonos and kilts I did feel like a bit of a scruff. But then perhaps that is the essence of Kiwi culture - we don't really care what other people think, we are comfortable being us bare feet, black singlets, board shorts and all.
So tomorrow I am off to celebrate all things Kiwi again, it is International Fest. I am running the NZ booth, tattooing (moko) small children and teaching them how to make poi and say Kia Ora. Perhaps we have some culture after all. At least I don't have to spend the day teaching line dancing like my American colleagues!
Whilst I would love to have a pui-pui, and other traditional Maori trappings, I don't. I also have that little thought that it isn't really my cultural dress. So what do I do? The last couple of years I have warn my All Blacks jersey. It is definitely recognisable to most as belonging to New Zealand, but it makes me wonder about the depth of our 'kiwi' culture - is it really just rugby and beer. Partly because of this, and mainly because an AB jersey designed to wear to a night game at Eden Park in the middle of an Auckland winter is damn hot on a sunny Malaysian day in March (we hit 39 today!), I decided to do something a little different this year. I looked through my wardrobe, and those of you who know me well know that this is hardly limited, and was stumped. I have several NZ/Aotearoa t-shirts - koru designs and cute outlines of NZ all over, but once again not exactly national dress. In the end I decided to go for something truly iconic - the classic black singlet and jandals, topped off with my koru pounamu to add a bit of Maori culture. All day I have been asked if I was off to the gym/beach, but truth be known, I felt kiwi. Admitably as I stood next to students and colleagues in glamorous saris, kimonos and kilts I did feel like a bit of a scruff. But then perhaps that is the essence of Kiwi culture - we don't really care what other people think, we are comfortable being us bare feet, black singlets, board shorts and all.
So tomorrow I am off to celebrate all things Kiwi again, it is International Fest. I am running the NZ booth, tattooing (moko) small children and teaching them how to make poi and say Kia Ora. Perhaps we have some culture after all. At least I don't have to spend the day teaching line dancing like my American colleagues!
21 February 2007
Gong Xi Fa Cai
Happy Year of the Pig! I've just got back from spending Chinese New Year in Singapore, where unlike Malaysia they are happy to proudly announce it to be - the year of the pig (Malaysia has to be careful not to offend the muslim population, if the year has to be mentioned it is the year of the boar)
Golden pig money boxes - what every good home needs!
An unusual quiet spot on the road
Some of the new year goodies for sale
As you can imagine the crowds in Singapore for CNY are pretty large. In anticipation of these Andrea, Diana and I decided to take the overnight train to Singapore instead of the regular bus. Whilst it takes twice as long on a normal day, and involves trying to sleep in a moving vehcile with a lot of Malaysian families, it seemed to be the better option when compared to the possibilities of ten hours trapped on a bus with blarring videos playing and one small toilet the size of a shoe box. Actually the trip was not too bad. Although a word of advice - if you do ever book a sleeper train ticket in KL, try not to get one too close to the bathrooms. The smell can wake you in your sleep.
Saturday evening was CNY eve, and after catching up on some zzz's and high tea at Raffles (it has to be done, a trip to Singapore isn't complete without a sling!), we bravely headed into the masses in Chinatown. There we joined the thousands to see out the dog, and in the pig, well to be honest after a while we actually joined the smart people in a bar overlooking the thousands. One of the traditions is 'bumping' the bad luck out of you, and it gets kind of tired after about the 30th time!
Saturday evening was CNY eve, and after catching up on some zzz's and high tea at Raffles (it has to be done, a trip to Singapore isn't complete without a sling!), we bravely headed into the masses in Chinatown. There we joined the thousands to see out the dog, and in the pig, well to be honest after a while we actually joined the smart people in a bar overlooking the thousands. One of the traditions is 'bumping' the bad luck out of you, and it gets kind of tired after about the 30th time!
An unusual quiet spot on the road
Some of the new year goodies for sale
The crowds from my handy viewing spot
Although I have been to Singapore several times before I also got to do a couple of things that were new. We took a day trip to Sentosa, a little island off Singapore, you take a cable car out and spend the day with thousands of day-trippers on manmade beaches and tourist attractions. Although I did see one of the most unusual creaures I have ever seen at the underwater world.
Although I have been to Singapore several times before I also got to do a couple of things that were new. We took a day trip to Sentosa, a little island off Singapore, you take a cable car out and spend the day with thousands of day-trippers on manmade beaches and tourist attractions. Although I did see one of the most unusual creaures I have ever seen at the underwater world.
The amazing waterdragon!
Unlike Sentosa, the Night Safari is something I would highly recommend. It is attached to the Singapore Zoo, but is a separate zoo full of animals that come out in the night. It is an amazing chance to see big cats and many other nocturnal animals prowling around, instead of sleeping like they normally are. I had a wonderful bonding experience with 3 stunning leopards, got up close (maybe a little too close) with some big bats, and saw a slow loris for the first time. All very call!
11 February 2007
Another year older!
Today was my b'day - 32! I got to spend a great day with a lot of good friends - celebrating with some good food (got to love the cuisine in KL!), and good company. To top it all off we tossed a few noodles in the air for Chinese New Year, as I am a CNY baby it seemed like the thing to do (Yee San is a tradition here - messy and a lot of fun. The higher you toss the noodles the better your luck in the new year), and then when the staff discovered it was my birthday they arrived with a party hat (Disney Princesses - the girls would be proud), poppers and hooters. As if the locals didn't have enough to look at with 10 noisy expat girls.
To finish the celebrations and keep the family tradition of February 11 birthdays going on my cousin Christine had a baby boy. Welcome into the world Hayden James Poad!
To finish the celebrations and keep the family tradition of February 11 birthdays going on my cousin Christine had a baby boy. Welcome into the world Hayden James Poad!
Pink Panther and eye liner
I have spent most of the last week doing make-up for our middle school show - The Pink Panther Strikes Back. Stage make-up is one of those things that I really enjoy doing, as it is so different from most parts of my day to day life. I also like that small sense of corruption as I get to introduce innocent little 11 year olds to eye liner for the first time - seeing their eyes light up, and imagining their parents horror. There is also the fun in the shock of the pre-teen boys as they realise that they are expected to put on foundation and eyeliner, and wear lipstick. It never fails to amaze me how the lad that cringe the most at the first application are bust telling me that they don't have enough blush on by the last night. Some of them are just a little too comfortable in make-up. How do you respond to a 13 year old Korean boy in a pink panther outfit, wearing a pink panther outfit and doing a sexy pose asking you, "do I look beautiful?"
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)