One and Only Maldives

The month of April has not been so inspiring for me. The only highlight to me is not Moscow, which I will write about it later, but Male, Maldives, where I will never say no in going…

Knowing a friend from a different culture and country will always give you an edge and broaden your horizon definitely. I am privileged enough to have met a really good friend of mine while studying in KL. She’s a Maldivian and she has taught me a lot about her country and life in general. While I was in Male the other day, I spent it mostly with her and her adorable family (her daughter and her admirable husband). It was indeed a really wonderful time spent on seeing places while enjoying the company of a long-distance friendship.

We started the day with her family of four in the resort I was put up to. They came from Male capital city, which from her previous description, I still have no idea how it looks like. It took them about 25minutes to travel by boat. We had a hearty buffet breakfast, catching up with each other and of course to acquaint with her adorable toddler, something that I have no chance to do much.

After breakfast, we hit to the beach. The toddler was so natural with the sea and was having so much fun. While sited on the deck chair admiring the blue ocean, my friend was arranging for a boat to bring us to her capital island. I couldn’t wait actually as I have never seen Male city before. My curiosity grew larger and the moment I board the boat, I knew I was going to have lots of fun.

The boat ride was a smooth one without the choppy sea. During that journey, my friend explained what a picnic island is, clarified what a safari is (it’s actually a yacht and her husband is building one currently) and shown me where the jail is located. Her husband joked, even the prisoners get to live in one of the islands with such great views!

Finally, we reached the jetty and the boat captain carefully steer away from the President’s jetty, which was of course, slightly more elaborated in design of wood carvings. We alighted and I could smell a real city on a relatively small island. My friend decided to show me around with her newly-bought white Honda motorcycle (yes, I agree it’s so much more convenient riding it!). The moment I sat on her motorcycle, I could feel my bum was burning. The seat was so hot as the motorcycle was parked under the sun. My friend said the hotness would only last for a while. She seemed to have accustomed to it, and I trusted her. When we finally stopped at the first traffic light, with so many other Honda motorcycles around us and a few cars, I felt my real journey is about to begin, taking my mind off my roasted behind.

I felt really liberated somehow. I attribute it to the lack of regulation on wearing helmet. Everyone rides without any headgear on. It’s a truly relaxed environment compared to where I am living now.

My friend was so eager, wanting to show me every single inch of her city. She brought me to the fish market (which is almost males only), telecommunication shops, make-shift swimming pool where the locals go, man-made beach, park, boys’ school, girls’ school, the President’s (Gayoom) palace, the square, mosque, her office building (Monetary Authority of Maldives) and many more. We rode on her motorcycle and we covered the whole city in less than an hour!

Despite on the rush to see the city, I have a real sense of accomplishment and what’s more when I did make people on the streets turned their heads. They, the locals and tourists must be wondering who is this lady and where is she from riding with a local on a bike! Well, my friend’s hospitality really made me feel so at ease and to some point, I really did felt embarrassed. She is so generous with her time and effort, showing me where she lives and her closed relatives' homes. I almost forgotten how many homes I had stepped into! The people of Maldives are really a fun-loving, open, laid-back and humble bunch!

My most memorable encounter is when I stepped out of her living room in to her balcony/courtyard area. I could see homes, many of them which are apartments of different colours and some racing to add more levels upwards. Well, that’s the only way to have more space, where land is in scarcity. With the clear blue sky on top, the view looks very Cycladic. Imagine, the white-washed buildings with blue dome in Santorini being replaced by colours like blue, pink, green, white, orange etc and without the blue see in sight. That is how I would describe it.

Although, almost everything here is imported, I still managed to taste the local mango juice. It tasted just right, not too sweet as compared to Indian mangoes. We had lunch at Salsa Royal, one of her husband’s restaurants and we had the most sumptuous Thai cuisine I have ever tasted! The chef is from Thailand and they serve Italian cuisine too!

My day at Male City ends with bidding farewell to the lovely friends I have there. They all sent me off to the jetty and waited until my boat started to jet off. I felt a sense of reluctant dismissal. How could I leave such lovely people and city behind? As the sea filled my view, I gazed into the horizon and ponder how nice it was, to have what I just had.

p/s : My apology for not uploading photos. My camera failed me this time :(

Freedom Amsterdam

Amsterdam is indeed one of my favourite cities in this whole wide world, if not, my favourite European city. I was there two weeks ago and my encounters proved to be some of the worth-remembering ones.

Firstly, when I took a stroll along the Flower Market, it then started to snow suddenly. Shaved ice, falling down from the sky and the whole street seemed to be curtained by white snow moving with where the wind goes. Some people on the street started erecting their umbrellas but I chose to walk under the snow with only my wooly winter cap on my head. It feels a bit strange when the snow falls and touches your face. It reminds me of the gentle spraying of holy water. Each droplet felt like it penetrated my skin and releasing a feeling of cleansing. I felt blessed after that. Soon, my black winter jacket was sprinkled with shaved white ice. I finally got the chance to do the act of rubbing and padding off the snow from my jacket (an act where I can only watch it happens on TV) when I entered Albert Heijn, a famous supermarket chain there.

My second memorable encounter is the visit to the Rembrandt House. With the city map in hand, I took a wrong turning and ended up walking further away from my intended destination. When I saw, the Calsberg Brewery, I knew, I had to turn back. Something happened at the pedestrian though. A couple of about 40-50 years of age was arguing and shouting their lungs out under a traffic light and the watchful eyes of the public. I could tell that they spoke in French (from my short stint of learning that language) and they were arguing about which direction is the right one to the train station. They both parted for different directions and their poor kid, not sure who to follow. I wonder, it is worth arguing with your partner when things can be solved when temper is kept under control? They both could be right in their direction, it is just which train station do they want to go to. It always upset me to see a relationship strained. And as always, the little ones are the innocent victims.

Rembrandt House is indeed a place to visit for anyone who is curious about famous lives. I always honour people who have made their name remembered for the right reason. Imagine if you’re known as a cheater. How would such a person face the world? Well, I guess, for such people, they don’t even possess the moral conscience or intelligence to comprehend what constitutes cheating. I feel shameful for such individuals. Oh dear, that reminds me of Mr Elliot Spitzer! Once known as a great white-collar crime buster of Wall Street (a real honourable reputation) but now, left with a stigma on his morality stand, when he committed the biggest weakness of most men, purchasing sex. If only we know the reality behind such business. It is most often involves human trafficking. Women and even children who are forced into prostitution out of poverty or simply being kidnapped, or conned into a promise of a better life for their family. How can such demand (by men) be met by such unwilling supply? I seriously very interested in grasping the psychology of such men. Is it power, lust or motivated by chauvinistic values? I urge everyone to watch the movie, “Human Trafficking”. Human trafficking is the third most profitable illegal business after drugs and weapons trafficking according to the movie. It has made me think twice about my travelling pattern these days.

My apologies for the diversion...Rembrandt, is a famous artist of the 17th Century and an inspiration to many other famous artists of our time, one of them, Picasso. Rembrandt is known for his distinguished skill in portrait painting and etching. When I was at the house, I can only see paintings by his apprentices and surprisingly, his teacher, Pieter Lastman. As Rembrandt was an art dealer, his house was used as a gallery and he traded other artworks of other famous European artists of his time. An interesting fact to know, the box beds on display are so short in length and according to the narration of the auditory tour, it seems people at that time dare not sleep by lying flat. They always sleep in lounge position for they believe that when blood rushes up to the head, they will die. Another room to marvel at is Rembrandt’s studio. Many of his original tools are well-preserved and displayed as accurately as how they were when he was using them.

My third most memorable encounter is of course, the Red-light District. A visit to Amsterdam is never complete if you didn't make a stop at these famous places, Red-light District, Magic Mushroom shop and coffeeshops (literally, I really mean visit only, not participating!). Walking towards the Red-light District, you can tell that you are nearby when the air you breath in is the smell of marijuana. I am not sure whether second-hand weed smoking can cause someone to get high but I am most certainly sure that, the whole group of us feel happy and uplifted.

Prostitution here, according to one of the articles in Off The Edge, if I remember correctly, is very different from elsewhere. Prostitution is legal here and what makes it distinguished is that, most prostitutes here are self-employed and they are not pimped. This gives the prostitutes the power to decide on their clients. We managed to catch a glimpse of how a prostitute rushed a potential client away because she seemed to disagree with the terms. Though they stand, pose or sit behind glass windows displaying themselves, I find that, they feel empowered somehow. A feeling, I think only they will know for sure, together with the reality and stories about their choice of employment.

Another thing you will notice in Red-light District now is that, many Holland’s local fashion designers are capitalising on this famous district by displaying their designs and set up their shops there. You’ll see mannequins wearing the local designs in the windows that were once rented by prostitutes. We also went to the not-so-maintstream of the district with a lot of narrow alleyways. Some are really so narrow that we have to form a queue line to see the windows. What an experience! With mixed feelings, we left before this place turns tourist-unfriendly, despite knowing that police are always around and the district is guarded with surveillance cameras everywhere.

Prostitution is indeed a very interesting subject to explore but I can't help but also feel the discomfort about it. I supposed it boils down to our own individual values. Say NO! to prostitution. When there's less demand, they'll be lesser to suffer. Since I am an idealist, I think it is possible! How about you?

Gion

I am now in Osaka. The outside temperature is about 10 degrees Celsius and it is transiting from winter to spring. You can tell it is spring when Sakura or Cherry Blossom is everywhere. For this trip, I am quite motivated to do something different. All my trips to Japan had always been about food and shopping, nothing about sightseeing at all. Maybe I am not too engrossed with the history here or I don't speak Japanese. Somehow, I thought of Kyoto and wanted to see the District of Geisha, known as Gion. I also read a passage somewhere that, it is good to take an unexpected route and get out of our comfort zone, sometimes.

This morning, I woke up early. From Osaka Station, which is five subway stops away from where I am put up, I then took a train of JR Kyoto line to Kyoto, which takes another 40 minutes. I can see the trasition from a fully-industrialised city of Osaka to, somehow a more laidback and humble rural when I was in another train from Shin-Osaka station to Kyoto. Before long, the rural homes, vegetable farm and cemetery changed into another magnificent city again. I could tell I had reached Kyoto.

I must mention, inside each train that I boarded, I never failed in seeing girls and women who had full make-up on and always with a mirror in their bag or hand. They seemed so occupied with perfecting their look, that they screamed "vanity is everything" in your face! I speculate that this culture is about packaging, everything has to look nice on the outside. Just like when I bought some take-away food yesterday, I wanted to just grab the box and put it inside my big bag, but the seller insisted on wrapping it with a colourful paper, equipped with fancy utensils that, I guessed, would make my eating experience somehow enhanced. In my heart, I was thinking, what a waste of paper and plastic! But as I always do, I try to immerse into their culture and I give them the benefit of doubt that they also recycle everything here. I had my take-away food and couldn't agree more that my eating experience was somewhat, satisfying.

Once I reached Kyoto Station, I headed to the Tourist Information Centre located just a floor above. I wanted to get hold of a map and walk to Gion. A lady there who speaks very good English, advised me to take a bus instead, as by foot, it will take me about 40 mins. But I wanted to see Kyoto hence, when I saw the queue to the bus was so long, I opted for my first option instead. With the city map in hand, I braved the streets of Kyoto. I took an unusual route, as I don’t want to see any more neon lights and billboards, which are found on the main streets. Instead, I took the small roads and lanes, where I could see residential houses, shrines (Shinto), temples (Buddhism), small restaurants and shops that sell everything from clothing to services like hair cutting and postal. It is a great way to see how people actually live here.

What a delightful encounter when I approached a middle-aged man, just to make sure that I was on the right track. He turned out to be English illiterate. He seemed to understand my query but he decided to ask the shop owner, an old lady instead. Then came an elderly man from an opposite shop and all three of them started speaking in Japanese, trying to explain to me how to get to Gion. All I could do was, say endless “Hai” and “Arigato” and politely indicate that I understood and now ready to continue my journey. I bid good bye to them and I could tell, they wished me luck. When I saw a 13th century temple that matched my map,I took a breath of relief.

The weather in Kyoto was quite odd on this afternoon. Rain and shine took turn diligently. After about an hour walk, I finally saw Gion. It is a street full of cultural happenings and tourists. It has red lanterns but not to be confused as a red-light district, as Geishas are entertainers, not prostitutes. The street has tea houses, cafes, restaurants and shops selling local delicacies and mostly packed in the nicest packaging. I didn’t manage to see any white-painted face women but only the posters of them. I comforted myself that the two quite young looking girls walking in kimono and holding an umbrella could be maiko (apprentice geisha). I wanted to go to Yasaka Shrine but since my objective was Gion, I decided to save it for some other time.

As for now, I should just pat myself for making this unexpected trip and experience for myself how in a foreign land, though you don’t necessarily speak their language, you can still understand and be understood. Only if you want to.