Just Hope, No Action

I just came back from Joburg, SA with nothing much to brag about. I stayed at Emperor Palace which is something like Mines Wonderland in KL. It has a casino, lots of restaurants and even an in-door roller-coaster which reminded me of one of the malls in Cheras called, Leisure Mall.

As this station is rated high on red on our list of city rating, which means, it is deadly dangerous to be out on your own. Contrastingly, I find that, I was perfectly alright with the company of my own.

During my stay there, I was confronted with news on the recent protest in KL. It was shown repeatedly on CNN and SkyNews, the only two news channels available although I am more accustomed to BBC World. Somehow, I felt like a foreigner watching a country going through the process of democracy. Something inevitable, I think.

I am also proud to finish Angelina’s Notes from My Travel. It was a great read by someone I admire so so much. You can tell from her writings that her travels were such an awakening to her. The travels had shaken her to the very core.

Reading each places that she had travelled to, Cambodia and Pakistan, made the most unforgettable impression on me. Her descriptions on each of the refugees and land mine victims are so real and so painful to read. They made me so ashamed of myself for the luxury that I am lucky enough to have.

I wonder, why am I so worried about how my kitchen cabinet will turn out in my condo when others are actually having their lives, the safety of their family members, their bodies, whether it will be violated again, to worry about every single second? They have so many worries that we have forgotten because we are having it so good now and we can simply take things for granted already. I could not comprehend or emphatise no matter how hard I tried and I think Angie is right when she said, you need to see it yourself.

I am truly embarrassed and I think I don’t deserve this luck when half the population goes to bed hungry. Yet, we still complain about our food, too much, too bland, too spicy. And how can we face ourselves when we didn’t even realise that when we have our hot showers, when we let the water runs over our tired bodies, there are so many people that are deprived of basic water supply, not even enough to nourish their bodies under the heat of the desert?

I felt extremely guilty for just finishing my hot shower which I think, took too long and too wasteful of precious water. I hate the fact that, I felt so entitled to so many things just because, I felt I have given so much of myself, but in fact, I didn’t give anything at all that would make anyone better.

How these aid workers, humanitarians, nuns, doctors, nurses actually do it? As an undeniable fact, they are the people who choose to be in this struggle, to help, no matter how difficult it is. They give their best by simply helping and here I am, just nothing, doing nothing but simply hoping for the world to get better…

My Weekend in NYC

It is somewhat refreshing to see New York during the weekend. I was lucky enough to witness that recently. It seems like these hard-working New Yorkers are finally having a break and in a breezy mood for living life. I am convinced that, no matter how much you put in to your career, enjoying life still utmost important, if not, a reward itself.

I was put up in a hotel at 57th Street and coincidently, the un-named weekend market was held on this fateful street as well. I heard that, weekend markets have no fixed location but move all over New York. For the first time, I witnessed an
American “pasar malam” and surprisingly, they sell things very similarly to what we have at home, perhaps, in a more tasteful and exotic manner.

The peddlers are hardly White Americans but mostly Chinese, Turkish, Lebanese or maybe Greeks. The Chinese sell mostly clothing and home ware from China and also offering traditional massage. The rest, they all sell food consisting of their local delicacies like Doner kebab and Shish kebab, fruits dipped in chocolate and other goodies.

I bought three pairs of sunglasses for just US$25 and they look very stylish indeed. As I walked, I also bought myself a Shish kebab, which is skewered meat. I think I had lamb and it tasted wonderful. I also had banana dipped in chocolate, a sinful yet pleasurable indulgence.

It was a lovely atmosphere and it is something I will miss and look forward to, if I am lucky enough to have another New York trip during the weekend.

A special mention to the Veterans of war where they are saluted and honoured for their contributions during the Vietnam War, Korean War, WW2 etc on this day known as the Veterans Day. I was there, among the crowd standing behind the barriers and watching the Veterans Day Parade marched on Seventh Avenue, on a Sunday morning.

I also saw the covered, yet to be unveiled Christmas Tree, which is always a Christmas highlight in the Rockefeller Centre.

Meeting a Friend in Times Square

Sight-seeing no longer draw much attention to me unless there are some new destinations that pop up once in a while. Hence, I find that meeting someone you know, who you can call, a friend, is a highlight to me already. It seems like a meaningful and stimulating conversation can be more fulfilling and comforting than seeing the familiar sights of visited places.

In my recent trip to New York, I met Bro’s ex-colleague. She introduced me to her sister-in-law, from Hong Kong whom I thought is such a lovely person.

We met at Hard Rock Café at Times Square at 7pm. I suggested the venue as I thought everyone in this city should know where HRC is situated. I was early and I stood patiently at HRC’s entrance and there was a non-stop flow of people walking in front of me. It was dark already and as it was a weekend, I think the number of people in the street just doubled up.

Finally, a voice calling my name came from the crowd and I instantly sighted two quite petite Chinese girls with broad smiles and excited hand gestures. We greeted each other like we have known each other for years. As we joined the crowd, we walked to Olive Garden, a famous Italian Restaurant, centrally located with a great view of Times Square and the splitting of Broadway and Seventh Avenue.

The queue for a table would take one and a half hour, so we decided to wait at the bar with our drinks as starter. I ordered a Riesling and we blended in like any other New Yorkers. Our conversation was dominantly in Cantonese, and my inquisitive mind queried about their lives here in New York. It feels great to converse in our own mother-tongue and still feel like a New Yorker in this kind of setting.

After some waiting, our buzzer vibrated, which means our table is ready. I haven’t come across a long wait which was so much fun, since a long time ago. Our stomachs were growling but we managed to use our heads when ordering the food. We started with salad with freshly baked Italian bread, and then followed by a great Italian sampler of appetizers and for main, we had ravioli and tiramisu for closure. The portions were huge but surprisingly, we finished it all, clean!

We talked about life, our backgrounds, our recent encounters and our aspirations. We talked about Bro a lot and some travel plans to make routine lives bearable.

When the time reached almost 11pm, we bid our goodbyes in the middle of Times Square. We took some photos and some with passer-bys whom didn’t seem to mind at all. Like tourists we snapped away and soon, we departed to our separate ways. I walked back to 57th Street at Seventh Avenue and the girls left to take a subway all the way back to New Jersey.

Although it was late, I didn’t feel afraid at all. The streets were still very much filled with people and traffic flow was as busy as during the day. I walked back with my stomach filled and most importantly, my heart smiling again…

Mona Lisa Journey

I was in Paris, after our wedding and before the news of my Dad’s passing. I remember not having too much enthusiasm on the sight-seeing although I urged myself to at least, pay The Louvre, a visit. There I was, walking along Champs Elysees after passing Arc De Triomphe and I found myself in the season of Rugby World Cup.
Everywhere was selling the participating nations’ jerseys and I didn’t realise rugby could be so big here. I later found out that the final was actually played on the day I touched down and France was the host country.

As I walked, I occasionally dropped by the various car showrooms available there. What a refreshing change for me! I must say, the showrooms are retail of the next level. The way the cars are showcased, is so sexy and it’s like seeing a mannequin clad in the most impressive haute couture! I saw a Mercedes McLaren sport model (seriously, I don’t know what the model is), which was displayed on a podium, with an angle that can make the best impression out of the car. It was white metallic and the lights that shined on it seem to make it sparkled like a gigantic diamond. What a lovely sight of a car!

There were also Citroen and Renault showrooms with cute cars on display.

After almost 40 minutes on foot, I reached The Louvre and quickly settled for the admission ticket. I got myself the museum map but I find it rather confusing. The museum has 4 entrances, North, South, East and West. I picked the one that leads me directly to Mona Lisa. I didn’t roam around for long, maybe about two hour max only as I was not really drawn to any of the artworks there.

As predicted, Mona Lisa is the only show piece that attracted the biggest crowd. It was not a big piece work of art, in size but the starry eyes and mysterious smile of her are somehow unmistakeable and indescribable. I watched it from three different perspectives, right, left and centre and they all looked the same no matter which angle I picked. I wonder should all good artworks share this kind of characteristic.

After Mona Lisa, I hurried to view the Code of Hammurabi. I remember it from our History text book and from the photo, I would have thought it would be very big in size. The actual is just like the height of an average wardrobe and the thickness of a matured rubber tree trunk. I normally have quite an inquisitive mind to read the descriptions of any showpiece, but since mostly are written in French, I couldn’t be bothered further but made my way to hunt for Angelina.

From my city map in hand, Angelina is located just along the road where The Lourve is sitted next to it. I thought I should go there as from the review I read online, this place serves very good desserts. When I reached the doorstep of Angelina, I resisted from going in as the crowd was chokingly full. Nonetheless, the sight of this lovely French tea-house/restaurant remains a memorable one and what’s more, next to it is an English bookstore in Paris! I walked in and browsed through its collection. There were all mainly classic literatures and designs books and a corner with Audrey Hepburn photo books in French. I love the cosiness and sense of being in an old bookshop like the movie Notting Hill.

After that, I headed straight to Arc De Triomphe. I climbed the stairs, almost in breathless state, to reach the top of the Arch. I was quite pleased with the view from the top and seeing the 12 avenues flow into and out of the roundabout where the Arc stands tall. And looking at Eiffel Tower from there, I felt nothing, not at all impressed, for the first time.

I must also mention that I passed by Olympia Theatre with a long queue of Sir Paul McCartney’s fans, waiting anxiously for his concert. It was 22nd October 2007.

Book Cafe

I am now in Christchurch, sitting in a book cafe and reading Off The Edge, the November issue. Some people here are wearing their summer clothing and some wearing winter clothing. As you can see, the weather is also very subjective to the choice of clothing. To me, I am just wearing a pair of jeans, my comfy walking shoes, a hoody as they call it here and inside, a sweater.

While sipping my de-caffeinated latte and eating my tuna sandwich, I can't seem to stop reading my favourite mag. I am not at all distracted by the audible conversation going on next table, although I can tell that they are discussing some travelling plans. The familiarity of an article on Saudi Arabia, suddenly made timely sense when one of the hot news blasting on CNN is related to this country, something to do with gender inequality issues. I feel blessed not to be in that kind of situation and at the same time, I also feel for their daily struggle to be females.

As the weather is getting chillier or maybe because my body is burning off the fat, I begin to feel cold and wanting to leave. And I wonder, how many people out there are still living in fear, while so many of us can be so lucky to have a cup of coffee in a book cafe and talking about their travelling plans.

Life Can Be Strange

A few weeks back, I intended to fire all my happy emotions into a posting of this blog. During that period of time also, something was amiss. Although I have the will, I lack the energy or strength to do so. As my head was thinking of the words to put down, to describe the happiest occasion of my life, my heart seemed to worry about something or someone.

I always believe that life is not always a bed of roses and our highs and lows in life are as real as life itself. Reality sure hurts when we couldn’t accept it or we regret our actions as if our actions will bring back time.

A few weeks back, I wanted to write about my wedding. It happened on 13th Oct 2007 in Perth. I grew up not having an image of how my wedding will look like, how will I look like in a wedding gown or how everything in a wedding supposed to be. I grew up without any expectation of such and because of this, I can say that I’m naturally very easy to please.

I never quite believe in wedding, as I think it’s only for the audience. I believe in marriage though as I honour marriage that is honest, loyal and loving.

On that day, I woke up feeling in control. I had breakfast with my Bro and Dad at Good Earth Hotel where they stayed for a week. I just did the routine of putting on make-up and dressing up just like how I will do it before I go to work. It was my first time using the colours that I’ve never used before, something very natural and nude. I asked Bro to zip up my dress and voila, I did look like a bride! And I felt beautiful like how a bride should feel too.

Dad and Aunt came back from their walk and quickly got dressed too. In no time, Chris, the driver-cum-photographer came to pick us up. We were indeed delighted and a little surprised by how a 10-seater limo would look like. So long and so white! Chris is a chirpy guy, a typical Aussie who takes life quite easily.

We were driven to Canning Vale to pick up the girls, two of them are my bridesmaids and the little one, the flower girl. I also picked up my bouquet of white lilies there. Lily is my favourite flower since Flo given a big bouquet of lilies to us on our ROM day on 18th Sep 2004. The bridesmaids and flower girl each had a bouquet of yellow and white lilies.

As we took some photos with my side of family, Danny was after a cake and wine toast with his side of family and probably rushing to the Church. When I arrived at the Church, I could see Father Tim and Pam, the Organiser. I saw a lot of flash lights and rolling cameras. Yes, you will feel like a celebrity surrounded by paparazzi in this kind of situation.

I put my right arm under my Dad’s elbow and rested my hand above his wrist. He looked so dashing in his dark-blue suit and knew exactly what to do even without a rehearsal. This really amazed me. He walked me down the aisle so gentlemanly and it was the closest proximity I got with him.

The music at the background doesn’t seem to matter as I remember we both took our sweet time walking towards Danny. I didn’t even notice that Danny’s back was facing us as during our rehearsal, he was facing the aisle. Only when Danny told me that he was told by his side of family, not to look, that was when it affirmed my belief that a wedding is really to please the audience. Quite sad but true. Being an unconventional person, I just don’t feel comfortable with traditions.

When the music was over, I was standing right in front of Danny, someone I love so much. He always says that he always knew I’m the One when he first saw me and I must say, I knew he’s also the One when I first heard his voice over the phone (thanks to MP!) That was six years ago.

We exchanged our vows, our rings, pronounced husband and wife, kissed, lit a candle and signed the paper. It felt like we’ve been doing this for so many times already. Father Tim is so kind that he prepared us a special cert that said, we were both married at this Church by him. As I’m a Buddhist, I can see how this gesture is so generous of him. He is indeed very open-minded and universal. I respect him for that and he has a special place in my heart as he’s one of the great spiritual people who seem to have enlightened.

Right after all that, Danny and I were eager to walk out of the Church. I was surprised, a thankful one that the music playing in the background were my two requested songs, Moon River and Close to You. Wedding suddenly proved to be otherwise when I heard the tunes.

We took photos as usual and proceeded to Armadale Park. We took a few shots with different scenery as the background. It was sunny and the hottest day of the week at 29 degrees Celsius during spring!

After the photo-shoot, we went back to Canning Vale for the dinner reception, alfresco style. We waited a bit for everyone to arrive, about 30 of us. Then we cut the wedding cake (Danny requested a Tiramisu as the conventional wedding cakes are not edible!), fed each other with a small piece and crossed arms to drink Champagne. Deja-vu again! We’ve done this so many times! We did that in our Tea Ceremonies with both sides of my family, The Cheongs and The Lims. Thank goodness we always have a different crowd and the only loyal spectator is my Bro, who had seen it all with us.

I remember the night was fun-filled and merry. With lots of wines and liquors, I felt quite tipsy. It ended fast too. Dad had a ciggy and felt much better. We bid good-byes and that was the last time Danny ever saw him.

The next day, Danny had to get back to Singapore as he was starting his first day at work on Monday. I yearned to see Dad and Bro as I felt I didn’t spent enough time with them especially my Dad in Perth. Instinctively, I just couldn’t wait to see him and spend time with him. I remember, I finally saw him walking with Aunt towards us under a clock tower in the City and I felt very much relieved. He was at the Burswood Casino and according to Aunt, he had a great time there. My Dad always loved the thrill of gambling.

He told me that he wanted to meet us as it was Bro’s birthday and he remembered. He wanted to have dinner together and let Bro chose what he wanted. Bro wanted Japanese and we found a Japanese/Korean restaurant. Dad spent us dinner with the money he won from Burswood.

I constantly asked Dad how he felt and he always said he was feeling fine. Somehow, my instinct told me to have a chat with him but I constantly brushed it aside and told myself that there would always be some other time when I would see him again. That was my big mistake…

The last moment I saw my Dad was under Bell Tower near the bank of Swan River. That morning, we all went to Perth Zoo and spent a good 2-hour plus walking. We felt like kids again under a father's wing. Dad decided to join us for the zoo, quite at the last minute, during our breakfast. I think, he was reluctant at first, as he got a flight to catch in the afternoon and the tour might make it seem a bit rush. After the zoo, we took the ferry again back towards Bell Tower. We bid our good-byes there. I told Dad I will see him in KL. Those were my last words to him. Although I instinctively wanted to hug him, I didn’t listen and turned away instead. We just don’t hug all our lives. Dad and Aunt walked back towards the hotel to grab their luggage and head to the airport.

Bro and I continued to wander the city and spent time together and had fish and chips at Cicerello at Fremantle. A lesson to learn from my encounter is that, never hesitate to give a hug or say how much you care, especially when you have your instinct to tell you so.

My Dad passed away in less than 2 weeks after my wedding in Perth. He had his holiday, his first time after so so long. He ate Korean food because I asked him to try. He walked me down the aisle and completed his duty as a father in style. Since his first heart attack, one year ago, we can tell that he did a lot for us. I heard from his close friend that he was very proud of his children despite us growing up without a mother. That instantly brought tears to my eyes.

That was the period of time when I couldn’t put all my happy thoughts into writing as it seemed to me, my instinct told me that something is going to happen. It never crosses my mind that it would be my Dad. Although I had an urge to call him after the Perth trip and before I left for Paris. I never did call. I asked my Bro instead.

I always wonder how will things turn out differently if I did hug him and call him before I left for Paris. Would I feel more settled? Maybe it's a closure that I am looking for. It will take me sometime to heal and reflect. The mix of happy and sad emotions is really difficult to deal with on a personal basis, I must say. But I know deeply inside me that, my wound will heal and what it takes is only time…