electric sheep and paper junks

Pretty lights accompanies a distant dreamer

The Chilean red gleams like liquid ruby in the oddly shaped glass that sits uneasily in my hand. The torrential rain shows no sign of letting up as I watch it play hopscotch on neon signboards and run off highway ramps and zinc rooftops. I wish I could smell stinky tofu in the air rather than the tension that hangs heavily above. Tonight, I wish I was a replicant in this city… dreaming of fluffy cheesecakes from Hakodate. Heh.

………

The harbour looks peaceful in the early morning, enshrouded in the mist. I sat by the hotel room window, pensive thoughts lost in translation as I watch the barge go by and raindrops race across the glass. Somewhere in the water, perhaps a little whale is finding its way home…

spring awakenings

My postcards from Seoul are on their way after all!! All thanks to the kind and talented Joon who helped to post them after they were saved from an almost accidental disposal as garbage! Kamsahamnida, Joon! See you in Seoul again, sometime!

My first quarter of the year has quite literally, flown by, with 21,058 miles clocked in the air… in a big piece of metal hurtling through the skies, paying homage to the Four Asian Tigers, as friends had amusingly pointed out! I’ve outgrown the novelty of the window seat by the wings and am now an appreciative fan of the middle aisle seat, rondelé garlic and herbs cheese spread and air stewardesses with sincere smiles and not little gloomy clouds over their heads due to tight panties beneath their batik kebayas.

Things that do not last
have indescribable beauty

After a stretch of operating on crazy schedules, ungodly hours, surreal deadlines and a luggage bag that never really got unpacked, three days of traipsing around Seoul with Huiling afforded a much needed break. Despite the temperamental weather, we had halcyon days of exploring cobblestone streets lined with weeping willows and wafting with freshly brewed coffee, stuffing oneself silly with kimchi and dolsot bibimbap, eating hot pancakes in the freezing wind, squealing a muffled arrghhhh each time we exited the underground and bidding good night to delightfully gross sea creatures…

The spring date with Seoul was a collective mesh of moments that reminded me of Anne Bogart’s advice about the magical creative place or position of not knowing what to make of something or being unsure, the power in challenging certainty with uncertainty and that annoying but most wonderful moment of thoughts falling into place just as one is almost falling asleep. I’ve found cherry blossoms, circled the trees, stood blinking in the cold rain and at long last, understood their strange zen-like appeal… they made me strangely happy.

My first weekend of the second quarter was spent eating, sleeping, watching Astro, and just lepak-ing with Supra, Atah and Mama. Before the madness picks up again in June, I’m reclaiming my lazy weekends with kindred spirits, family and dedidated days of solitude… with my feet back on familiar grounds and perhaps a pedicure or two! Aja!

taipei, ni hao!

It must be silly to be absolutely thrilled and giddy with contentment over a little bowl of porridge with half a salted duck’s egg and a sprinkling of pork floss at 7.30 in the morning… Oh and the joy of watching Discovery Travel and Living on the toilet LCD screen while slowly brushing one’s teeth is just, divine! I’ve also discovered that munching a HUGE piece of fried chicken fillet while walking the alleys of Shilin night market in the lovely cool air is bliss but never must I ever do that again, especially not within 40 minutes of completing a 7-course Chinese dinner!

Two and a half hours to go before I entrust my postcards to the concierge and make my way to the airport where I’ll need to do some major last-minute shopping for A LOT OF Taiwanese snacks and sweets… to sleep or not to sleep? 

round the lil blue ball

Unlike birthday wishes, I’ve stopped making new year resolutions for as long as I can remember, simply because I’m not good at keeping them. I made just one new year’s resolution for 2008 - to play as hard as I work. “So how are you planning to do that?” Chammika had asked as we watched the fireworks in the distance from his kitchen window.

Well, I’ll start with lots of travel and hopefully, my very own dSLR soon! I reckon I’d be very broke by the end of the year but it’ll be a most awesome year to remember…

First quarter of 2008: Kunming, China; Taipei, Taiwan and Seoul, Korea
Second quarter of 2008: Hong Kong; Aalen, Germany; Mauritius
Third quarter of 2008: San Diego, USA
Last quarter of 2008: Auckland, New Zealand

the small things

The noodles were springy and simple. It came in a clear broth filled with chopped cilantro, little cubes of pork lard, assorted fish cake slices, fishballs, and some char siew. Half the joy of eating it was dressing it up to your taste with the condiments provided on every table. Sweet, sour, salty and spicy translates into sugar, pickled chilli, fish sauce and dried chilli flakes. You add a bit of everything, stir up the noodles and slurp away. The other half is eating one’s second bowl at 2 a.m. with a glass of gaa fae yen at a hawker stall opposite Patpong, with a bunch of dearest friends (some in their pajamas) and surrounded by tables of drunk Japanese guys, noisy ladyboys and other interesting shady-looking characters.
……….

“Up and down. Up and down,” said Goong with a wide smile, leaning on the frame of the kitchen door, shaking her head as she watched Meng Teck, Ah Tan and me lock the bicycles for the umpteenth time today. We were having a whale of a time exploring the town and the quaint little lanes dotted with guesthouses and village homes along the river. At fifty baht per bicycle for the whole day, we rode the bikes everywhere till our butts were sore. Several times daily we carried the bicycles up and down the steep cement flight of stairs that separates the guesthouse entrance from its riverside rooms, much to Som the ginger tabby’s bored gaze and the guesthouse staff’s continued amusement. Baa, we must appear to be… baa baa baaw baaw!!
……….

There is a sliver of a moon on my left and a fluffy shuriken sun on my right. Cotton candy clouds fills the sky in between. A whiff of diesel in the air and the hum of a jet ski engine roaring away in the distance accompany waves gently lapping upon the shore. I can feel my complexion turning another shade toastier. Hopefully it would by now look like roasted macadamia nuts coated with a glaze of honey and not burnt almonds. My fingers and toes are looking a bit like prunes though. Lying on my back afloat in the sea, staring up at the sky… this is bliss revisited. I am happy.

5:57 and 14:42

Bridge over the River Kwae

morning chatter

going to school

abandoned

rise and shine

Wang Sing cuttings

soft glow

steel and wood

lighting the shadows

pink monday

we shall not forget

The walking trail winds along the fringe of the Kwae Noi Valley, dipping and climbing with the topography of the terrain. Punctuated by embankments and cuttings, the gravel path is serenely surrounded by lush groves of bamboo on both sides, rustling like huge windchimes each time a gust of wind swirls across the forest. Walking along the gravel path, remnants of the railway track can still be seen- weatherworn wooden planks and rusty steel frames or tools. The air is cool and the breeze plays peek-a-boo with the graceful bamboo branches, affording breathtaking views of the valley framed by majestic trees with backlit leaves in the morning sun.

A view so calm and beautiful, it must have really hurt in the mornings.

The forest is breezy and sun-drenched but the air feels somewhat heavy. Often I couldn’t help but gaze into the bamboo forest on my right and wonder how many unmarked graves are still out there belonging to unnamed Asian labourers, Japanese soldiers and Allied POWs. Many of those who perished in the construction and maintenance of the Burma-Thailand Death Railway, built to facilitate the Japanese Imperial Army’s march towards India during World War II, died at an age younger than me.

Beyond the Konyu Cutting which is known as the Hellfire Pass,