Yak Pack Unlimited

Newton's 3rd Law of Motion

2012-02-05T23:48:00.003+08:00

Amidst the festivity and merry-making over the Lunar new year, words got out that Singapore is planning to file claim to UNESCO that yee sang, a raw fish salad with crackers and julienne of vegetables, popular during Chinese new year, as an intangible cultural heritage of Singapore. Of course, this then sparked a heated dispute between the Chinese and foodies communities of the two countries.

While it's extremely difficult, if not impossible to ascertain the origin of the dish, I applaud both the courage and pro-activeness of the Singaporeans in their efforts to preserve and promote this culturally significant dish to such extent. The Malaysian? We do what we do best: crying fowl! That's it! That's the reaction from Malaysians.

Let's face it, we are not even that good and determined in preserving the tangible cultural heritage in the country. Cases in point, look at what had happened to the century old Pudu Jail and the majestic Bok House. Or look at what soon-to-be happened to the pre-war shophouses along Jalan Sultan. We do not appreciate these beautiful historical structure at all, demolishing such heritage treasures for the building of offices and shopping malls and parking arcade. So who cares about the intangible heritage? Aside from Singapore, Indonesia, as UNESCO had given them the intangible cultural heritage of humanity listing for keris (the asymmetrical wavy dagger), batik (the hand dyed cotton or silk garment) and the wayang puppet theatre (the shadow puppet story telling), as they claimed.

Newton's third law of motion states that for every action there's a reaction with equal in magnitude but opposite in direction. Unfortunately, we the Malaysians are always the reaction, opposite in direction and generally less in magnitude, significantly less in magnitude.

Good Outlook

2012-01-28T17:06:00.004+08:00

It was a quiet Chinese new year back home. Dad passed on last October, so we are not celebrating this year. Still we were all home for the holidays, being with the rest of the family and catching up with friends.

Aside from that I watched a lot of tv. There were loads of shows on tv with fortune tellers predicting the fortune for the various zodiac signs in the coming year. Apparently this year of Dragon is not going to be a hot year for those who are born in the year of Dragon. I'd be one of them lot. So, the dragon babies were advised to be patient, be watchful, lay low and ride it out for the coming year. No major move is to be made.

That was pretty much how I spent the days of the uneventful Lunar new year. But indeed it was a peculiarly quiet one.

Finally I figured out why. There were no remark like "Oh my God you are getting thinner!" or question such as "Hey when are you getting married?" from family and friends alike. Oh how I loved and enjoyed this quietness and serenity!

Well just from this, the year of Dragon seems to be shaping up to be a good one already!

Have a good year ahead people!

Collections

2012-01-17T19:04:00.007+08:00

As a hobby, some people collect stamps, some collect match boxes, some collect fridge magnets, some collect hotel-provided miniature toiletries. What do you collect for fun?

Me? I found out what I collect while doing spring cleaning. Going in and out of airports while flying, I guess unconsciously I'm been collecting quite a lot bottles, of perfumes and booze. Unconsciously!

Or I'm just a narcissistic alcoholic.

Cold Welcome to Beijing

2012-01-09T19:41:00.005+08:00

A last minute curve ball threw off delayed my departure of my second trip back to my motherland. So the plan of partying hard along Beijing street, ushering in 2012 with style and booze was down the drain.

Gutted. Utterly gutted.

Finally I traveled on Jan 2. I snapped this from the plane as we approach Beijing. The snow covered mountains, all white, such a picturesque sight to behold.

It was -6 degree Centigrade, windy and foggy when we walked out of the airport, about 3 pm in the afternoon. It was so so cold. I could feel my digits numbing, my ears and my nose frosting up, possibly falling off any minute.

I wondered if I could survive reveling on the Beijing streets on that new years eve night. Sometimes things happen for a reason. Usually, a good one at that too.

Snail Mails

2012-01-02T04:14:00.006+08:00

Do you remember when was the last time you receive something in the post, a letter or a postcard, the old fashion snail mail way? Do you recall how wonderful that was?

The thrill of receiving a mail is overwhelming. The joy is tangible, so real that we can touch it, hold it in our hands, as we are holding the letter, reading it. It put a smile on our face for days.

It's simply romantic.

So when was the last time you send a mail to your loved ones?

2012 To Do List

2011-12-31T20:29:00.009+08:00

1. Take mom for a trip. Driving her back to her home town. Or maybe taking a cruise. Or both.

2. Volunteer. Give back. Preferably, something involve kids or education. There are a lot of volunteer opportunities in Juba. Now there's something to do over the weekends in Juba.

3. Build a school. Or planning to build one. This one probably not going to happen within a year since all the research and preparation alone would take years. However, a journey to a thousand miles begins with a single step. I must take the first step.

4. Be a better friend. Call more, write more. A friend of mine lost his sister and I only found out a year later. I feel like a douche-bag.

5. Pick up Arabic. I went for ONE class last year. One class, that was it! While it was a timing issue, I must fess up that there was a commitment flop on my part too.

6. Buy more books, and read them.

7. Eritrea, Ethiopia, Burundi.

Now 2012, bring it on!

Chilled Kivu

2011-12-30T23:49:00.009+08:00

Slowly, quietly and lazily and uneventfully peaceful time slipped away. It was like the ripples of wavelets skimming across the lake, no big splash, just calmly and gently.

I walked around the lake. I listened to the bird singing on the trees and the fishermen singing in the lake in the morning. I ate when I was hungry. I drank beers by the lake. I read. I took naps in the afternoon. I sat by the lake looking into the horizon afar. I swam in the evening, only once because to water was freezing. I slept early at night.

Three days and two nights.

One word to sum up Lake Kivu: chilled.

Mountains Calling

2011-12-29T23:23:00.003+08:00

I'm a beach person. I love going to the beach. It's such a relaxing and chilled ambience. So I always arrange my trip to end by the beach. And for my Rwanda trip, Lake Kivu was my last stop. It was a good relaxing 3 days chilling by the lake shore and doing nothing, not even weight seeing much. It was just hanging out with B&B: books and beers.

But my mind was far flung on the slopes of lush beautiful hills and mountains in Ruhengeri. There was a great sense of serenity and security being surrounded by those great mountains. It was humbling. The mountains were imposing but kind, feeding me their wonderful refreshing positive chi. In fact I still long for those amazing mountains and reminiscing about my days roaming there.

The view from my room in Ruhengeri, the magnificent Mahabura hiding behind the clouds and the mighty Gahinga.

This is the view from my bathroom, the Muside and Sabiyo, I think.

Maybe deep down inside, I'm a mountain person.

Hiking the Bisoke Volcano

2011-12-28T03:20:00.008+08:00

It was not hiking weather.

First it rained the day before. So the trail already turned into a muddy and slippery stream. All the time, my eyes were peeled on the trail, making careful and strategic steps and balancing with the hiking sticks. I was trying my damnedest not to fall down and not to get my boots soaked (I hate walking in wet shoes). But who was I to out-step the trail? Furthermore as we hike along, the rain came and gone, several times! Not even half way up, my body was drenched with the rain and sweat. Then there was the fog thick in the air, shrouding the woods blocking the view. It was miserable plodding along all wet and cold and compromised visibility.

After trudging along the wet, muddy and slippery trail for a good 4 hours, landing on my ass a couple of time and swearing under my breath endlessly and questioning myself why I chose this strenuous hike over chilling out over beers, I was rewarded with this view of the crater lake atop Bisoke Volcano. Oh what the fuck?!

The Congo-Rwanda border splits the lake in half and runs along the peaks of the various volcanoes in the Viruga mountain chain. Since Congo was just a stone throw away, we decided to take a quick trip over, sans immigration stamps, to check it out. Congo is the second country I entered illegally. Nice view?

But lady luck came in the eleventh hour, as we were about to descent. The fog lifted, revealing the beauty and marvel of the crater lake and the rolling hills.

Still wondering if I made the right call hiking Bisoke.

Another Christmas

2011-12-25T19:59:00.005+08:00

I spent Christmas this year in two countries. I woke up Christmas day morning in Juba, South Sudan and going to sleep Christmas night in Khartoum, Sudan. Huge celebration and festivity in Juba but it is just another ordinary day here in Khartoum. Well Sudan is a muslim country, Christmas just ain't their thing.

With Christmas almost done, the year is drawing to a close. Did my year go out with a bang? It was certainly an eventful year. Sealing the deal on my own pad towards the end of 2010, I finally moved into my place in May. Just moving in, literally. Since I'm working and living in Khartoum, I hardly did any living in part my new apartment. I just done it up a little, very little in fact and brought in my clothes and books and kitchen stuff. That was it. Practically the place is vacant, so much so that the pigeons were moving in (into my balcony), leaving a couple of hatchings and a balcony of pigeon shit. Maybe I should consider renting it out? At least that would pay for the mortgage itself. It makes sense and cents. I'm Chinese, why didn't think of that is frankly quite beyond me.

There were a lot of traveling this year. Finally I've been to my motherland, China. Working with a lot of mainland Chinese, they always ask me if been back to China or pester me when am I making a trip back home. In Jun, I did finally, I went to Beijing on a business trip. Beijing was anything and everything beyond my expectations. I was expecting the streams of bicycles but I saw rivers flows of cars on the road. No one spit. Subway was convenient and cheap. The city was exuberant with energy and excitement. The minute I returned to Sudan, I was already scheming my way for another business trip back there. (Evil laugh!) Because of my work schedule, I was also able to see more of the mysterious continent I'm living now. I went to Kenya and Rwanda in August and October respectively. The nature attractions and adventures were certainly top notch, but the humanity and cultural of the trips were eye opener for me. TO me, poverty is the root of horrible messiness in Africa and education is the best tool to fight it. I want to do something about. I'm plotting something for that.

And then dad passed away. I just reached my apartment in Khartoum from my Rwanda trip when I got the call from my sister. The connection was crappy so she was shouting into the phone. "Dad's gone!" Deafening! I was little unsettled for a moment, crashing down from the post Rwandan adventure high to the losing dad low. My relationship with dad was a very typical Chinese father-son dynamic. He was always a stern disciplinarian and I was afraid of him. We hardly talk or do things together. I remember him bringing me to a barber when I was young and I brought him to one when he was frail. In the end it was more of a relief, more than sadness, that dad was moving on. He had finally came to the end of this road and now onto the next one. In reality, isn't death part of life?

With dad gone, mom is now all on her own back home. Mom is a strong and feisty lady. But unfortunately, not as strong and as feisty as she used to be or I remember her to be. I recently found out that she's still not quite used to sleeping alone at night. Dad had gone for more than 2 months already. We kids are all back at work in faraway cities. What can we do? How do we do it?

On the work front, it was a tough struggle most of the days. Perhaps I'm still not adjusting to the local work culture. It's too laid back for me and there's no sense of urgency at all at anything. Many a time it was more stressful delegating a task to someone else than piling that task onto my already full plate. Consequently I bitch a lot and stress out even more. I find myself running on a very short fuse. I don't like myself running on a very short fuse. There are also many politics (not politicking) and scheming, that the solution is made not with the collective best interest of the company in mind. That's I guess is one of the perils of working in a joint venture company.

I discovered that my ability to adapt is surprisingly astounding. As the South Sudanese celebrated their independence in July this year, the possibility of relocating from Khartoum to Juba, the capital of South Sudan was looming large. During this interim period I was traveling to Juba quite a bit, dealing with the new host authority, establishing network and seeking for approvals for our various project implementation. My job is pretty much a liaison and I was able to fit into that so quickly. I was like a salesman, going door to door pitching my sale and trying to seal the deal. I was ever so charming and accommodating and entertaining at whatever demand or request and managing their expectations professionally. Me being running on such short fuse, it was astonishing that I found the strength in me to suppress my dismay behind my ear-to-ear grin. Yes, it was part of the job description but seriously that is so not me. Yet I did it. How did I do it? I'm baffled myself too. Well maybe it is me! Now that's a scary thought.

As much as I'm smiling jovially trying my best to hide my disdain, my facial expression or my tone of voice or my body language or all of them would sell me out. Well, this art of masking feeling on the face, I'm still perfecting it. At the end of the day, I'm a pretty transparent no-nonsense guy. Looking ahead, it will continue to be even more challenging and exciting at work next year, as we'll be relocating to Juba for good. We are setting up shop temporarily in a hotel. Construction of the office space is on super rush super energized mode. The first batch of staff moving down would be in mid January next year, a month delay from the original plan. We are forging forward, forcefully.

Isn't that a good way to move into 2012, charging ahead at full throttle?

Jesus for Sale

2011-12-24T04:26:00.007+08:00

Traveling through Rwanda, or Africa for that matter, it was interesting and fun to see that the entrepreneurial people would simply set up shop on the ground by the road, and sell anything and everything, including Jesus.

Jesus for sale! Anyone?

Well, it's a honest living at least.

Merry Christmas!

Note: Photo taken from a bus on the way from Gisenyi to Kibuye along the shore of Lake Kivu in Rwanda.

Coaster in Juba

2011-12-21T23:47:00.004+08:00

Let's take a break from the Rwandan blog posts. What say you if we head over to Juba, South Sudan for a little snippet of life there.

Normally, we place a coaster under a glass to protect the table top underneath, from the unsightly condensation marks or scratches. Here in Juba, this is how it is done. A coaster is place over the glass instead.

Why?

It is to shield the glass (very important) and the beer (even more important) from the millions and millions of flies buzzing around, annoyingly!

Rwanda: Land of Thousands Hills

2011-12-20T04:48:00.000+08:00

Rwanda, land of the thousands hills. The stunning and mighty mountains are omnipresent wherever one goes. The rolling lush green hills sprawling out across the countryside like an undulated giant green carpet. The splendidly majestic Virunga volcano chains in the northern province is more than a marvelous spectacle. Formidable but alluring and inviting at the same time, those seeking for adventures come here to track the gigantic mountain gorillas or hike up the volcanoes for the picturesque view.

Looking at the mountains and hills afar is soothingly hypnotic, be it from a over-cramped van/bus, or wet and cold and muddy and beat hiking on the trail itself. The view took my breaths away, set my mind free and aloft. It was moments like that that I was humbled with admiration and delighted with the greatness of nature. Nothing mattered and life was full with joy of simply being, pure joy.

Rwanda, land of the thousands hills. That is a gross understatement. To me, Rwanda is the land of millions of magnificent hills.

Balancing Act in Rwanda

2011-12-18T03:12:00.004+08:00

Life, as we all know it, is a balancing act. It's a tough struggle. We learn to accept it, and try to perfect it. Unfortunately, some have to learn that the uber-hard way, in such a tender age.

Whitey Softies

2011-12-16T03:22:00.009+08:00

We hiked through some farm land before coming to the start of the Bisoke Volcano hike. We walked past vast fields of white little flowers. In the morning breeze, they swirled and billowed like the foamy white of waves, rushing into the stunning mountains afar. The view was picturesque and breathtaking, quite a fairy-tale setting. I was expecting the goats and the birds and the farmers in the field burst out into song and dance any minute.

These were the Pyrethrums, or commonly known as daisies. It is a major crop cultivated here in Rwanda to produce insecticides or repellents. Funny how these white little daisies appeared so pretty, pure, gentle and soft in the field, but they were turned into something lethal to the bugs and mozzies, the creatures we came to hate as we embarked into the mountains. So we slathered generously all over our bodies the repellent cream or spray to fend off those little creepy crawly buzzy buggers.

Look can be deceiving, no?

Clean Kigali

2011-12-15T04:00:00.018+08:00

I've been to a few African cities. Clean is definitely not the adjective I'd ever use to describe those cities. So when my friend KB told me about how clean Kigali is, my eye brow raised in skepticism, almost like a reflex reaction. "You have to see it to believe it. Kigali is so clean, you can't find a plastic bag litter!" KB added adamantly.

So to Kigali I went, for seeing is believing.

The plane landed on a rainy day. As it approached for descent, I could see some parts of city were flooded. "Oh this is not going to be fun, and not going to be clean!" I thought.

I went out for a walkabout to get myself orientated on the city. Rwanda is famously known as the Land of Thousand Hills. Kigali, the capital is spread over some undulated hills. After the horrific episode in spring 1994, the city is rebuilding slowly but steadily. Roads well paved and high-rise beautifully erected and there are even city landscaping carefully manicured. The city is set abuzz, vibrant and full of energy. Businesses and investments are coming back to town and Rwanda as a nation is moving on forward together. There isn't the tiniest hint of the atrocity of the genocide.

And yes, the city is clean, spotless even. It's true that there's no litter on the street at all, or the back alleys or the side lanes for that matter. Cigarette buds, plastic bottles, candy wrappers, plastic bags, none in sight. What floored me with the cleanliness of the city was that there was not even fallen leaves from the trees lining alongside the roads. I was truly impressed.

Yes, now I'm a believer!

It was not until I visited the Kigali Memorial Center, I found the city is just sterilely clean, artificial and fragile. Are they not trying too hard, to clean up the city? And cleaning up the city, is it not an effort to polish off the stubborn black stain of the nation's past? Suddenly the cleanliness of the city was reduced to merely a cheerful facade, to hide the hideous monstrosity happened some 17 years ago. Are they sweeping it all under the carpet, for when it's out of sight then it'll be soon out of mind?

So there it stands firmly, the Kigali Memorial Center. The exhibition documenting the genocide through photographs and survivors accounts on video and various articles such as the victims' clothing and the killers' machetes. Many a time during my visit I would want to skip ahead. But the exhibits were as powerfully captivating as they were eerily chilling and torturously painful. They are reminders to Rwanda that hatred can be spread so easily, driving normal folks to do some insanely abnormal deeds. More so, they reminders to the world that inaction is just as hurtful and guilty as action.

Super Simple

2011-12-04T04:02:00.004+08:00

A few nights ago I put together, pretty much literally, my dinner. It reminded me of the Korean meals served by the Korean volunteer, A, who generously offered a spare room to me, stuffed me full with Korean food and showed me around town while I was in Ruhengeri, Rwanda. The meal was super simple. Basically it's just bits and pieces of whatever I had, few strips of crispy bacon, an egg fried with the bacon fat, spicy sambal, freshly cut lettuce and tomato and the star of the meal, Korean seaweed, all served with rice.

The meal was super simple indeed, but full with flavors: savory bacon and egg, spicy zingy sambal, sweetness of lettuce, tad of sourness of the tomatoes and salty seaweed, all that tickled my tastebuds with delight as well as rekindled the warmth of friendship and stirred up fond memories of the trip.

Colors of Rwanda

2011-11-30T22:51:00.004+08:00

It has been slightly over a month since my return from Rwanda. It's a small country but packed full of adventures, natures, history (unfortunately bloody) and of course, wonderful explosive burst of colors.

More Rwandan stories to come. Stay tuned.

Ahoy Sailors!

2011-11-29T22:58:00.006+08:00

Lamu town is the heart of the Lamu archipelago, with a predominantly Muslim population. Life still goes by leisurely on this beautiful island, immersed in a Swahili culture rooted here since the 14th century. We were led by our dhow boat captain, Jamal, maneuvering the narrow winding streets of Lamu town after the Muslims ended their daily dawn to dusk fast during Ramadhan. We were stocking up supplies for our 3 day 2 night dhow boat sailing trip tomorrow.

"We need booze. Where do we get them here?" We asked Jamal, sheepishly. We were asking Jamal, a Muslim, to show us where to get alcohol in a Muslim town during the holy month of Ramadhan. We noticed the irony and laughed awkwardly over it. We were so going to hell!

After a 20 minute walk in dark, in what seemed like a maze, we came to the place, Lamu Police Canteen. Booze available for sale in the police canteen?! Talk about irony, again!

So, tugged behind the counter (or was it a bar?) was a small room. The door swung open and lights turned on, and this...

"Gentlemen, name your poison!"

A Balcony of Good Luck

2011-11-28T02:09:00.005+08:00

During my last trip back from Sudan, I came home to a whole balcony of pigeon poo. My balcony, pigeon shit EVERYWHERE! That stank up the whole place to high heaven. Though exhausted, I scrubbed the place down, grumpily. Then I found them, 2 baby pigeons nesting under my drying and dying pots plants. That explained the shit then, you two little buggers.

Then I remember the cold and drizzly morning when I got to Fisherman's Camp on the shore of Naivasha Lake. As I walked up to the camp ground office under the dense canopy of pine trees, a bird flew over and took a dump on me. The lady at the office smiled at me gleefully and told me that the African believe that getting shit on by a bird is a sign of good luck.

Now with a balcony of bird shit, oh good luck to me!

Glorious

2011-11-26T16:48:00.004+08:00

The view from my balcony on a late evening after an earlier downpour. The sun making the final appearance before the curtain of nightfall being drawn. The air was still heavily saturated with the moisture from the rain, shrouding the city with a thin veil of mist and refracting the last rays of the day, gloriously.

Oh I love sitting by my balcony. I love my pad.

Overheard #21

2011-11-24T23:50:00.005+08:00

A scene from the movie Hachiko:

Father:"Michael, you love my daughter?"

Michael:"Yes sir. Yes I do."

Father:"Now that's good. That's what you wanna remember on the bad days."

I think of you, bad days or otherwise.

Dad's Gone

2011-11-22T04:54:00.005+08:00

It was about 9 at night in Africa when my sister called to tell me the news. I accepted it quite matter-of-factly. It was a shock but I was calm about it. Perhaps my senses were all numbed by the shocking news that I appeared to be calm. There was not so much sadness at that moment. It was relief, that he finally came to the end of his road. That night I did not shed a tear.

My flight was scheduled 8.30 the next evening. I've been taking this route a few times before but this time seemed to be torturously long. I was not sure how the mood would be when I reach the funeral home. I thought I would cry seeing mom. I thought I would cry looking at dad laying still in the coffin. But I did not. I held them tears in, damming them tears up in my eyes.

On the morning of the funeral, we were briefed on the ceremony. When I saw the hammer on the table, to be used to pound in the nails sealing the cascade shut, I was stirred a little within. I thought I would cry hearing the sound of the hammering. It wasn't thundering loud amidst the chanting of prayers by the monk. But it was clearly audible, and shaking. I tried blocking it out, throwing my thoughts far away. I did not cry.

It has been more than 3 weeks.

I was on the flight returning to Africa for work. Another long haul. I was watching Larry Crowne, a new comedy flick starring Tom Hanks and Julia Roberts. Hanks played a recently retrenched blue collar taking speech class in a community college taught by Roberts, who played the professor role. It was a scene of their final exam where students were to make a 2 minute speech in front of the class on a previously given random topic. Hanks was giving his speech on Geography Show, and he was relating his 20 years serving the navy, the places he had been to, the things he had seen and done. That moment, tears just welled up in my eyes. Full, and they streamed down ever so gently. There were funny bits in the movie then but sadness was hanging heavy around me. I thought of dad and his life. I wasn't sobbing uncontrollably but the tears just kept trickling down my cheeks, non-stop.

Dad's gone.

T-5 Hours

2011-10-14T04:14:00.003+08:00

T-5 hours to take off.

Visa, check! Passport, check! Flight ticket, check! Money, check! Packing, check!

I'm both thrilled over the moon and scared shitless for the 10-day trip I'm about to embark on my own. Butterflies, millions of them, in my stomach but they are floating gracefully in a garden in full bloom of the most amazingly beautiful flowers.

I'm going to Rwanda!

Wish me luck!

Overheard #20

2011-10-01T06:11:00.003+08:00

"Anti-orientalism!"

My flat-mate, L was going off again bitching endlessly and furiously about Western media bias against the East, more specifically, against China. Yet, BBC and CNN are the channels he watches religiously.

Today I learnt a new word.

Couscous Craze

2011-09-30T19:56:00.003+08:00

Another food blog post.

Well this one is more of an assembling rather then cooking. I made the couscous, which I'm totally crazy about because it's soooooo simple to make and sooooooo difficult to mess up, just by simply adding boiling water into the same amount of couscous with a bit of seasoning and letting that sit for a few minutes. That was it! Then I got the chopped fresh vegetables, serunding (spicy meat floss a colleague brought for me from KL during his Eid holiday), sambal of onions and dried anchovies which I cooked and frozen a week ago and leftover fried peanuts and crispy anchovies from my nasi lemak, piled them all up on a bed of the fluffy buttery couscous.

Let's eat!

Another Salad Dinner... and Lunch!

2011-09-29T04:53:00.004+08:00

I'm on a salad craze at the moment, making another salad meal. It was super easy, involving opening up tins of can beans: white beans, chickpeas, sweet corn and peas plus some dicing of red onions and carrots. Then a quick toss in a simple dressing of lime juice and honey and extra virgin olive oil.

I made so much that it actually lasted me for 2 meals, piling up on my dinner plate and filing up my lunch box the next day.

Salad Lunch

2011-09-23T23:11:00.005+08:00

Getting (was it stealing?) the idea from a friend, I tweaked it a bit and made this avocado cabbage onion salad with honey mustard dressing. I switched the lettuce to cabbage because lettuce is ridiculously expensive here and I added an hard boiled egg for the texture and protein punch. The dressing was super simple with equal part of mustard and honey and then whisking them up in double part of extra virgin olive oil, with a squeeze of lime and pinch of herbs (whatever is available) and salt and pepper to taste.

Love the creaminess of the avocado and the soft bite of the egg with the cabbage and red onions crunch. The sweetness of the dressing and the aromatic olive oil brought them all together very nicely.

And it was surprisingly filling.

To Hell And Back

2011-09-22T03:03:00.003+08:00

I've been to hell, made it back in one piece and loved every single minute of it. Hell's Gate National Park that is. It was named Hell's Gate by the German explorers Fisher and Thomson in 1883, after a narrow break in the rugged cliffs, which was once a tributary of a prehistoric lake within the Rift Valley. However, according to my guide Brian, Hell's Gate is a translation from a local name Menangai, which mean burial site or grave.

What is impressive of this place, aside from game watching, is the panoramically towering and rugged red cliffs in the vast savannah landscape. Due to the volcanic activity of the area, there are hot springs and geysers in the park. The best bit, you get to roam free, on foot or on bike, along with the animals in the park, with the possibility of close encounters with lions, leopards, cheetahs, elands, zebras, giraffes, baboons and more than 100 species of birds.

Entering the park with the red cliffs flanking on the side.

The Devil's Nose, rock climbing allowed here.

The sheer rugged cliffs with a lovely hues of red, brown, orange and yellow.

Lone tree in the vast expense of the open savannah.

The massive awe-inspiring cliffs

Fisher Tower, a volcanic plug, a landmark within the park.

Hiking down the to the Hell's Gate gorge.

At the bottom of the gorge.

The art work of the wind and heat and water over millions of years.

One of the numerous hot springs in the park, collectively named Hell's Shower.

Silently strolling at the bottom of the gorge, slightly eerie but calming too.

The trickling hot springs sculpts the gorge walls into funny shapes and colors them in wonderfully splashes of hues.

The colorfully layered earth exposed by the elements.

Riverbanks of white, black and yellow, with bursts of lush green vegetation.

The river flows so quietly and patiently.

The mother of all geysers here in the park, collectively name Hell's Kitchen. (Gordon Ramsay was nowhere in sight.)

The vast open space of the gorge valley.

The amazingly colorful riverbanks, love it.

The picturesque spectacle of the gorge and cliffs.

Hiking back up from the gorge.

Oh My Eyes!

2011-09-19T03:36:00.003+08:00

7.45 a.m.

I opened the door of my room getting out for work, to the sight of my over-the-retiring-age and restless looking flatmate, L, sitting cross-legged on the couch reading newspapers, in his oversized t-shirt that covered his lower body and (I really really hope) his undies.

Oh my eyes!

Not so early in the morning. Not ever!

Oh my eyes!

Mooncakes

2011-09-12T02:06:00.010+08:00

Today is Mid Autumn festival. A festival in the Chinese culture commemorating the successful uprising of the Chinese rebels against the Mogul rulers back in the 14th century. Nowadays it is a celebration of family reunion, having dinner together and later in the night enjoying the delicious sweet treat of mooncakes and tea while admiring the moon. The moon is believe to be the roundest and brightest and most beautiful on this night. Kids would be going around the neighborhood carrying lanterns with a variety of shapes and designs and colors.

Mom was asking me about getting mooncakes here in Khartoum when we spoke some weekends ago. I remember telling her that was pretty much impossible. Then, I received a box of moon cakes from a Chinese friend from mainland China, 9 beautifully crafted mooncakes with different filling from normal sweet red bean paste with a salted yolk to the lychee paste and golden dates paste filling, all nicely done up and elegantly packed. Oh, what a treat!

Then I realized it's imported from China. And the Chinese have some seriously doggy processed food, dumpling with card board filling, fake eggs and the list goes on and on.

Damn! To eat or not to eat?

Oh fuck it, I had two already!

10 Years

2011-09-11T23:31:00.002+08:00

The only constant in life is change. Everything changes everyday, one way or another. But no change came so swiftly and dramatically and radically as it did the same day 10 years ago. Unfortunately that was not change for the better. For that day on, countless lives were forever altered in ways beyond our comprehension.

In fact, a lot of us are still trying to comprehend and make sense of that painful event.

10 years later, so many changes came and gone. But have we really learnt from the unspeakable tragedy that shook us to the core on that fateful day?

I pray you peace, strength and wisdom.

Who's Looking At Who?

2011-09-10T23:49:00.007+08:00

Towards the end of my safari trip in Masai Mara, while looking at the animals roaming freely in the open grassland, taking in the rugged panoramic view of the land, I started to feel like the animals in the zoo. We were being caged in the van through the safari and the game out there was probably looking at us, pretty much like us visiting a zoo looking at the animals in their confinement.

That's why I think I actually enjoy Hell's Gate National Park so much more. I was on my bike, free to roam around, stop wherever and whenever I wanted, admire the animal (though from afar) and experience the vast expense of the open space.

We both are free, the animals and the visitors, sharing the space and doing our own thing. And that was a indescribable feeling. Everything was just great and I just couldn't stop grinning. Even the rain felt good and refreshing as it hit my face on my way out of the park at the end of the day. It did not dampen my feeling a tiny bit.

Breakfast at Masai Mara

2011-09-05T06:11:00.026+08:00

Normally I have dried fruit and mixed nuts muesli for breakfast. Just add milk then a simple and quick yet healthy and nutritious breakfast is ready. Perfect for lazy bum (me!) who would like to max out the shut-eye time in the morning.

But in Masai Mara, they are on a different breakfast, more of a local treat which involve quite a bit of hardwork the night before. And they like it raw.

Well perhaps the vultures and marabou storks have it easy, just picking up the leftovers from the predatory game. But there isn't a lot of leftovers to go around and therefore competition aplenty.

Mara Wonders

2011-09-04T02:03:00.030+08:00

"Do Masai Mara. You'll see loads of animals, for sure!" F told me, with such assurance.

"Go to Masai Mara. The drivers will drive off the trail to get you as closer as possible to the animal and getting you a good view of them." C informed me, with a wink and a grin.

Such comments from fellow travelers upped my excitement level tremendously to visit Masai Mara. The night before my trip, I was so exhilarated and and psyhed up that I couldn't sleep, like a child all excited to discover what present and how many of them he is getting on Christmas morning. I was sure I even dreamed of close encounter with lions and elephants.

I woke up so early the next morning heading to the pick up point in Nairobi to begin my 3-day-2-night Kenyan safari adventure. I was acquainted with my fellow safari van mates: two Dutch girls and four Japanese. After a bit of dilly dally that included a snack shopping stop, a van switch, a tire change and a lot of plain waiting in the van, we were off.

"Masai Mara here we come!"

The journey to Masai Mara from Nairobi took a good 6 hours, with a lunch stop. The last stretch into the reserve, a good 60km, was ridiculously bumpy. The road was obviously poorly maintained, potholes as big as a crater and patches unpaved. The bumpy 60km took almost 2 hours. It baffled me to no end why the Kenyan government's inaction on this, considering the Mara is pulling millions of visitors a year and making millions of dollars to the Kenyan economy.

Anyway, we got there about 4.15pm and quickly settled into our tent and just as quickly dashed to the Mara, just in time for our first evening game drive. And with that our safari adventure officially started.

Within the 3 hour game drive, we saw huge herds of wildebeests and zebra grazing in the vast expanse of the Kenyan plain. It is often to see these two animals together. One has better sight while the other is more superior in it's hearing, which helps in alerting each other the presence of their predator, the lions, in addition to the combo of their strength in number.

Then there were the giraffes, placid and gentle, moving from tree to tree, munching the tenderest tips of the trees away. They strolled by with the grace and fluidity of a ballerina. Occasionally, they raised their heads and looked at us for a moment, then resumed munching without a care in the world. How could anyone not love this towering gentle creatures?

On the grassy field there were groups of impalas, another gentle creatures. Male impalas have pointy spiral horns, which are their weapon of choice when fighting over a female impala. Females has no horns, so the ladies hang out in group, safety in number and protected by a pimp, I mean a male impala and it's horns.

Later in the evening game drive, we came across a group lioness chilling atop of a hilly rocky boulder, literally chilling, while an equally huge group of safari van with tourists going gaga over them. The ohs and ahs did not faze them one tiny bit. It was truly a sight to behold. It was unnerving being so close to them but looking at these majestically fierce beasts frolicking playfully was amazing. At the same time, their poise and quiet demeanor was also incredibly calming.

Just as we were still reveling in the excitement of the close encounter with the group of lioness, we were treated to the sight of a lion, also chilling in the field, all by himself. He was just hanging out on its own, quietly, oblivious of the van loads of tourists and ceaseless and frantic clicking of the cameras.

We saw two cheetahs too. They have 2 black lines coming down the side of their nose from their eyes. Leopards do not. Their black spotted yellow hide was beautiful, with an almost glimmering shimmer, even in the dying light of the day.

Then I remembered what F and C said to me. Oh, how true!

Oh we witnessed an brilliant sunset over Masai Mara, with the sky splashed with a glorious spectrum of hues of yellow and orange and pink and red. Oh what a sight to end the day.

New Best Friends

2011-09-02T02:58:00.009+08:00

There's a saying that money can't buy you love, money can't buy you happiness.

But you know what, money sure can buy you friends, a lot of friends, in a blink of an eye. Just look at the National Transitional Council (NTC) of Libya, there are just a whole bunch of people, 63 of them to be exact, desperately queuing up to be his friend. They even organize a Friends of Libya Conference to express their loyalty and sincerity, to pledge their allegiance and support!

Suddenly, everyone wants to be Libya's new best friend!

Eid Mubarak

2011-08-29T23:34:00.011+08:00

It was the holy month of Ramadan.

Strolling along the waterfront in Lamu at dusk, I was invited to join the locals to break fast, even though I was not fasting. They simply welcomed me, a complete stranger, with open heart and open hands, offering me drinks and dates and sweets. The hospitality and generosity were overwhelming. I was truly humbled and touched.

As we celebrate the arrival of Eid, may we all be generous and kind to each other.

Eid Mubarak.

Off the Beaten Track

2011-08-27T23:14:00.014+08:00

Taking a ride in a packed rickety matatu, I ventured off the beaten trail, to Soweto, a slum area eastern outskirt of Nairobi. I had earlier met C, a French lady who volunteers in a children home and she invited me to visit the home, Good Samaritan Children Center. There are about 50 children here, age from a couple of months to mid teens. The home manage to raise enough fund to renovate and refurbish their place and the 50 children along with the 2 caregivers are now housed in 2 tiny flat units rented nearby.

Some of the stories of the children are heart wrenching. Some kids their parents are too poor and not able to care for them. Most of the kids lost at least a parent. There's a baby girl who was sent here after being discovered by the sewage. Then there's a baby boy who was left at the doorstep of the home.

As tragic as the stories, there are hope and joy. The baby boy who got left at the doorstep is now a healthy 2 months-old, aptly name Gift. The older kids stay in school, one boy making to the boarding school. And then the smiles of the kids, so bright, so cheerful, so infectious.

Spending a couple of hours with them was fun and precious, as well as humbling. I brought them some sweets and they gave me a lesson in the meaning of gratitude and thankfulness. What a trade!

Youngest Capital

2011-08-25T23:25:00.003+08:00

Just as I was done unpacking from my Kenyan trip, and still recovering from the traveling withdrawal syndrome, the boss tasked me to fly south to Juba, for 2 weeks. While it is for work but I'll certainly squeeze in some time to explore the capital of the youngest nation in the world, South Sudan.

Nairobi Street Wisdom

2011-08-24T02:43:00.003+08:00

Pretty cool, pretty true eh.

Back?

2011-08-21T03:31:00.005+08:00

I'm not a particularly religious person. But as I looked down on the picturesque landscape of lush green forest and soothing blue water and the inviting earthy beaches, I couldn't help it but said to myself:"If this is not the work of God, who could possibly create such awe-inspiring beauty?"

My body is back in Khartoum but heart and soul were left behind in Lamu. It's going to be a long tough day back in the office tomorrow. Is there a pill to be taken to fight the traveling withdrawal syndrome?

Unsettling

2011-07-26T02:59:00.004+08:00

Since dusk, the wind has been wailing relentless and loudly outside my window. Violently it stirred up the dust. I could smell the dust thick in the air, earthy and parched. Another sand storm brewing?

Unsettling.

Lately, a question too stirring up an unsettling storm in my head: Alone living a life in solitude or together sharing a life in silence?

Help me.

Raining in Khartoum

2011-07-24T02:51:00.005+08:00

Lately, I'm angry, all the time. The fuse is short and thin. The tiniest thing would set me off on a rampage within. The unsent email, the pending report, the traffic, the long queue at the grocery, the dishes in the sink. There's just something and someone flipping me mad. There's this dark clouds, gloomy and heavy above my head. I spent the weekend mopping over this raging state of mind. Even thinking of it fuel the rage, putting crazy thoughts in my head. I wanted stiff drinks to put out the rage. I felt like smoking.

It was very taxing emotionally. I was very tired.

Then it rained. Well it was not the first time I saw rain in scorching Khartoum, but it rained so hard. The wind was howling and the rain was pelting down in torrents. It rained so hard that it cut off half of the city's power. I looked out the window to an almost pitch black city, listening to the rain hammering it down.

That was calming, almost hypnotic. The rain washed away the dust that I could see that I was fuming mad over something and someone beyond my control. There's simply nothing I can do about it, other then just wait and see. Let it run it's own course.

As hard and heavy was the rain, it would stop, eventually.

Somewhere Over...

2011-07-19T04:21:00.007+08:00

Abu Dhabi

Khartoum

Kuala Lumpur

Aprikosenkuchen

2011-07-16T23:24:00.003+08:00

Plan was laid out to bake last weekend. Ingredients bought and recipe downloaded. I was pretty psyched about it. But then shits happened. Firstly marathon meeting over the weekend (so WTF!). Next, I actually ate almost half of my star ingredient, fresh apricots (hehe). Well next week then!

This time around I double bought the fresh apricots, as well as getting some dried ones, just in case I go on another apricot binge. So this afternoon, I made this fresh apricot cake. It's called Aprikosenkuchen in German. Gingerly the recipe was followed to the t, as I never baked this or tasted this before. No idea on how the batter consistency should be and wandered if the fresh apricots would be exploding mid way baking.

30 minutes into the baking I took a peek. It turned me gleefully happy with the cake puffing up graciously and turning into gloriously golden. And the fragrance of the cake just filled up my kitchen, spilling into the living room. Oh how intoxicating!

The cake was simply delightful. The surface slightly crusty (maybe I over baked it a tad) and the inside wonderfully soft and fluffy and moist from the fresh apricots. The tartness of the apricots balanced nicely with the sweet cake. Holy yumminess!

This one is in the bag. I've got another winner cake in my repertoire, and in my stomach.

Lock Down

2011-07-09T23:37:00.005+08:00

Today, my capital city, KL is locked down to quell the people from taking it to the streets, rallying for a better, freer and cleaner future.

Here in Khartoum, we too, are locked down today within our housing enclave, in anticipation of the rumored unrest in conjunction with the birth of the newest nation in the world, South Sudan. South Sudan successfully split from the north and gain independence today.

While I stayed in as advised by our security officers, I'm glad and inspired to see so many of my fellow countrymen by the tens of thousands, braving the streets, peacefully and fearlessly.

A friend asked me what would this demonstration achieve anyway. Probably, nothing immediately.

But, it's a show of solidarity of the people. It's a time to make a point across (whatever the point is). It's a declaration of love for the country. It's a step in the right direction. It's a start of a long and hard journey of change.

Well done you all.

Unpleasant Surprise

2011-07-08T01:21:00.006+08:00

My friend R told me that she's separated.

Oh my...

Absolutely stunned, I was speechless for a moment. I could still recall vividly I made a trip up north with VR to her wedding 2 years ago.

2 years ago!

Why is marriage in our generation is so fragile? What happens to for better or worse? Are we throwing in the towel too hastily? Are we too weak will to weather the storm? Is commitment such a disposable thing? Is this the peril of fast food culture?

It must not been an easy decision. I can only imagine her struggles before coming down to this, ending her marriage. But then again, why being together if misery replaces happiness in the relationship? What is the point of staying married if the bond and trust and love are no longer there?

My parents are married for about 40 years, and counting. Happily? Honestly I could not remember if they had ever expressed in any way that they are happy together.

Perhaps separation is for the better for both of them.

R, be strong. This too shall pass.

Overheard #19

2011-07-03T04:07:00.001+08:00

"It is not power that corrupts but fear. Fear of losing power corrupts those who wield it and fear of the scourge of power corrupts those who are subject to it." ~Aung San Suu Kyi

They ban and prohibit the people from wearing yellow now and arresting those wearing yellow. Can you see how insecure and how fearful they are?

But the way, I think our Thai neighbor must be laughing at us now.

Overheard #18

2011-07-02T03:39:00.003+08:00

"Before you were born, your parents weren't as boring as they are now. They got that way from paying your bills, cleaning your clothes and listening to you talk about how cool you thought you are" ~possibly Bill Gates.

I can almost hear Mom reminiscing her adventures in Singapore when she was young, single and ready to mingle. She would be having a grand time betting in the race track, dining and chattering away with her girl friends in coffee house, dancing and clubbing the night away. She was having fun, a time of her life.

Now she had done taking care of us kids, she is taking care of my ailing Dad.

I must appreciate that we may not see eye to eye on most of the things in life. I must appreciate that we are from different generations. I must appreciate that we have different sets of values and outlook.

Most importantly, I must appreciate her.

Brown

2011-07-01T03:22:00.003+08:00

This is somewhere over Khartoum. From near or afar, everything is shrouded with a veil of dusty muted brown. Now is it just me that find this depressing?

Power

2011-06-29T02:00:00.001+08:00

In a relationship, the power lies with the one who give less, or love less. One has got the upper-hand power over the other. What kind of relationship is it when there exists such an inequality? It seems like a master-slave dynamics, which is perfectly fine to me, if you are talking about role-playing kinky sick (depends on who you talk to) stuff in bed.

In love and as in life, all should be equal.

In bed, that would be a different story.

Diarrhea

2011-06-27T04:52:00.003+08:00

Another story on my carrot cake.

I baked another carrot cake in the kitchen. I was slicing the cake as my flat mate, P walked in. P is an uncle-like Indian guy from KL.

"Hey P, want some carrot cake? Please help yourself eh." I said.

"Oh, no thank you." P replied.

Truth be told I was taken aback. "Okay, I guess my carrot cake is not good enough for you then. Oh well, more cake for me. Yay!" I thought. So I stuffed a piece in my mouth and moved to the living room.

Moments later P came towards me with a piece of my carrot cake in his hand. Wait, I thought I heard him said no when I offered him earlier. But then again, good things, no, great things were meant to be shared.

"What's it inside huh? You put carrot in it is it?" P asked me.

Imagine the bewilderment all over my face.

These words just slipped out of my mouth, involuntarily.

"It's a carrot cake, of course it has carrot in it."

And I have this expression written all over my face, involuntarily too.

"Oh God, seriously?! Are you stupid or what?"

Then, awkward silence...

Yeah, I think I had what some people called a verbal diarrhea, and a facial expression diarrhea too.

Maybe he was trying to make small talk.

But still, seriously?

Icing on the Cake

2011-06-26T03:52:00.008+08:00

Baking has always been my picker-upper. No matter how heavy the workload, how daunting the task at hand, how long the day (or week) had been, how blistering hot the weather outside, how helpless and directionless I am with anything and everything, I bake. In baking, I know I'm calling the shot, confidently and I know I won't screw up. I know if I follow the recipe and instruction, I'll end up with a kitchen permeated with the aroma of a freshly baked cake, and a lovely cake on the table. I know I'm good at it, good at baking.

Work has been driving crazy lately. It has been hectic lately at work. Unfortunately it'll remain hectic for the few weeks. I've been running around like a headless chicken and will be a headless chicken for the next couple of weeks too. It has taken its toll on me, as I haven't been sleeping well, stressing out over work. (I know that's really lame and I'm such a loser.)

So naturally I turned to baking. Last weekend I made a carrot cake. After all these while I managed to get all the ingredients and utensils to put one together. I was elated looking at the batter rising into golden brown goodness slowly and steadily in the oven. Oh it turned out beyond delightful, soft and spongy texture contrasting nicely with a crunch of walnut, the carrot sweetness with a hint of the cinnamon fragrance.

Then I realized I should have made cream cheese icing to go with it. Oh well it was too late. But it still was good. Really good.

I shared the cake with a friend. She was first surprised, more like skeptical actually, seeing what I offered her. Then she was surprised, pleasantly at how tasty the cake was. "It was the best carrot cake I've ever tasted in years." She said.

Now that's my icing on the cake.

Tuna Cheesy Mess

2011-06-25T05:29:00.005+08:00

This turned out to be quite messy. But it was so simple in my head that I decided to whip this one up for lunch.

Leftover tuna in a can flaked and mixed with finely chopped garlic and onion. The mixture was seasoned with pepper, herbs of your choice, I used Italian mixed herbs here, and a squirt of mustard (I ran out of mayo). The bagel was spread generously with cream cheese before piling up the tuna on. Then grated cheese was sprinkled generously over the pile. This was where messy started. Cheese all over the counter and more cheese and tuna flake all over the counter as it was being transferred into the toaster oven for a quick bake. It's time to eat when the cheese melted and turned bubbly brown.

Tuna cheesy melt became tuna cheesy mess. Tasty nonetheless, if I may add.

Red

2011-06-22T04:32:00.007+08:00

When red was no longer celebrating happiness, joyfulness, nobility and regality, it caged the yearning for freedom, it silenced the weeping of loneliness, it stifled the longing for love, it fueled struggle for power, it masked the faces of envy and hatred, it hardened the heart of tenderness and purity, it buried the sanctity of spirit.

If only these red walls of the Forbidden City could speak...

Sudan

2011-06-21T02:24:00.003+08:00

The ferocity of the Sudanese summer sandstorm and the amusement of the year-round Sudanese English.

Dauphinoise potatoes.

2011-06-18T02:47:00.006+08:00

"What?" I hear ya.

While channel flipping on a late weekend morning, I came across a recipe on this potato dish. In spite of an intimidating name that I can't even pronounce, it was surprisingly simple to make. It tasted even better, creamy and garlicky and comforting. Straight away I sprung into cooking mode.

As this would a test run, I only use 1 medium potato, enough for one anyway. The oven prove dish was generously greased with butter and sprinkled with chopped garlic for the the background flavor. Then the thinly sliced potato was layered on, with seasoning of salt and pepper for each layer. I threw in a pinch of Italian mixed herbs at the last layer, along with grated cheese. For the sauce, it's simply a mix of milk and cream then pour over the spud but not covering it completely. I only used milk as I did not have cream. It was then loaded into a medium heat oven and baked until it bubbled up creamily and the cheese melted into golden brown.

Well my first go at this Dauphinoise potatoes was a tad salty. I think I was a little too heavy-handed in the seasoning, probably not fully awake yet while cooking, after all it was a weekend.

Can't Wait to be Back

2011-06-17T01:06:00.007+08:00

I enjoy traveling, tremendously, though lately not so much, but that's another story. Anyway, I never ever had the desire to travel to China. It just does not appeal to me. Somehow.

Then last week I was in Beijing for a week, for work. I wasn't dreading the trip, but not exactly gung-ho over it either. Thinking of China, 2 things popped into my head: the army of bicycles sweeping the road and next the people being loud and spitting everywhere.

While I did see the latter, (I also saw a mother, or maybe a grandmother trying to get a toddler to pee by the corner next to the escalator IN a mall. Honest to God!), there weren't many. I guess the city cleans up pretty well but old habits die hard for some. You just need to wait for some to die I suppose. Then the bicycles. What bicycles? There was practically none. The street was just choked with cars, cars and more cars, and the network of roads and expressways was impressive to say the least.

The city was not what I expected. It was bigger, better, more amazing, more awe inspiring and full of surprises, pleasant ones. The subway is convenient and cheap and clean! It's clean! The cab drivers (those I hailed) were friendly and honest. They did not see me as walking dollars and trying to make a quick buck, even late at night in pouring rain. The night life was, well, hopping and bobbing all night long. The place was hot and the ladies were hotter. It's Beijing, baby!

This trip was definitely an eye opener. I saw a snippet of Beijing and it was such a tease, but I like it. I like it a lot.

Now, back in Khartoum, I'm busy scheming my way for another business trip to get back Beijing again.

TMI

2011-06-16T03:07:00.004+08:00

Here in 'Frica land, aside from the locals, I work with a lot of mainland Chinese. L is one of them.

Last week I was away on a week long business trip to Beijing. As I returned to the office on Monday, L came into my office asking me about my trip. Happily, I was blabbing away on how much I enjoyed the Beijing and how amazed I was with her vibrance and energy.

We were then small-talking into weather. To me, going from the over 40 degree Centigrade dry heat and dusty wind in Khartoum to the mid 30s green summery warmth and light haze in Beijing was simply delightful, in fact beyond delightful. L said he couldn't deal with the sticky humid KL air and he would sweat buckets. He would be showering constantly to keep himself fresh. I chuckled hearing that. But he wasn't finished. Confidently and casually, L said:"Here in Khartoum or there in Beijing, the weather is dry and I love it. I don't sweat at all so I don't need to shower everyday. I shower like once every 2 days, (and here came the kicker) sometimes even 3 days!"

Oh! My! God!

Too much information!

Sick?

2011-06-04T02:40:00.004+08:00

Suddenly I don't feel like traveling anymore.

It's weird, as one of the reasons I took up my current job and relocated to Africa is simply because I'd get 3 weeks off every 10 weeks I work, such that I can hit the road during that 3 weeks. Being in Africa, imagine the experience of amazing wildlife and exotic tribes and wonderful places and all the crazy things I'd be doing. That would be such a dream! A dream beyond my wildest dream!

I used to enjoy reading up for my trip, preparing the kits and making whatever arrangements. That get me fire up about my trips. Last trip home I picked up a guide book for the eastern African countries. I also forked out a lot of money buying a new DSLR, in anticipating myself roaming around this mysterious continent. But the urge to explore just subsided. The call of adventures silenced. Instead there are lingering doubts of if I still could rough it through. And more importantly if I wanted to. I'm just not into it anymore. I just don't feel like it anymore. For my next 20 days, I just want to fly home and sleep on my own bed.

Damn what the hell is wrong with me? Where is my sense of adventures, my longing for the exciting life traveling on the road? Am I getting old? Is this just the work stress talking? Am I really getting sick of traveling? Am I sick for not wanting to travel? Is this just a phase, like the confusing puberty? Did I just accidently get rid of my traveling bug?

Tell me, where do I catch that bug back again? Or are there drugs that I can take get me addicted to the high of adventures and travel again?

Help me!

Who Are We Kidding Here?

2011-05-31T03:53:00.002+08:00

Read online about the electricity price hike back home.

Read about how the powers that be explaining the people that this hike is inevitable but it's structured to have the high usage group pay more. Read about how the powers that be comparing the price we pay for electricity is among the lowest with the neighboring countries. Read about how the powers that be warning the private sectors of the severe consequences on irresponsible price increase in their services or products following the rise in the electricity price. Read about the powers that be advising the people to be mindful and diligent in energy usage. Read about the powers that be assuring us that the hike will not be a burden to the low and mid-income groups.

Oh c'mon. What horse shit are you talking about? Who the fuck are we kidding here?

The people always end up paying. The people always get the stick up their asses.

Crazy About Bagel

2011-05-30T03:41:00.005+08:00

My obsession with bagel continues with another of my late Saturday lunches. Bagel sandwich with a fried egg and chicken bacon, cream cheese and barbecue sauce. Normally I would make this with the real French ham and sliced Cheddar and mayo in a croissant. Well, I haven't found croissant yet and for now I am just too ecstatic getting bagel here in Khartoum.

Yay!

Feast Kandahar

2011-05-29T00:37:00.005+08:00

First weekend back in Khartoum, I joined a few friends heading out to Kandahar, about half an hour drive out of Khartoum, (not that Kandahar) for a feast of pan-roasted kharouf (lamb) for brunch. Between the 6 of us, we pre-ordered 5 kg of that sweet tender succulent lamb and ribs, along with all the trimmings of salads and bread and spicy dipping sauces. We stuffed ourselves silly.

5-kg is a lot of meat!

I got home sleeping off the rest of the day and burping up the smokey sweetness of the lamb, well into the evening.

Shades of Blue

2011-05-28T20:51:00.005+08:00

Where's the ocean? Where's the sky? Where's the horizon? Sometimes reality is fuzzy and life is just one big blur.

Just don't take yourself too seriously. Enjoy the ride.

Note: Photo taken somewhere in the sky over Doha.

Pizza Galore

2011-05-11T21:55:00.005+08:00

I love making pizza using Lebanese bread as the crust, just simply smear it with store bought tomato sauce, pile on whatever topping I fancy at that particular moment, or whatever is available in the fridge, and cheese, loads and loads of grated mozzarella, then bake them in the oven. Thin crust pizza with minimal prep work, literally zero cooking, ready in a jiffy and almost no cleaning up!

This one with beef pepperoni (couldn't get the real stuff here in Khartoum) and mushroom and onions and pepper.

This one with chicken bacon (yeah, that sounded way off but actually tasted not half as bad) and mushroom and onions and pepper.

Happy Mothers' Day

2011-05-08T23:04:00.004+08:00

Mothers' Day this year, it's strange, the heavy air of uneasiness hovering over my head. I felt bad, realizing how strained things are getting with Mom, like the powerful undertow lurking beneath the calm water.

I still call her every week, we still talk. But we are trading barbs ever so subtly just a couple of utterances into the conversation, perfecting our skills in sarcastic communication and spewing spiteful remarks with a cheerful jokingly twist. Suddenly so many things we do not see eye to eye and we resolve to agree to disagree, in a not so agreeable manner. It's very draining talking to Mom nowadays.

I was in the midst of moving into my new place. Mom would like to come to help. I was more than glad with her around, more of sharing the joy of my new home. I was prepared to drive home to fetch her and Dad out her for the big moving day festivities. Then Mom insisted that she could just easily take the bus, a 3-hour ride out to KL from Kuantan with Dad, who's so frail and borderline wheelchair bound. After a lot of back and forth, I mean a lot, I told her I'd be able to handle the moving on my own (which was true), then I would take a flight home to spend time at home with them. I wouldn't be seeing them cramping in the bus, Mom wouldn't be worrying me with the drive back to fetch them. It was a win-win. Then there was silence ringing over the phone, piercing and painful. That was that.

What's happening to us?

Nothing happened to us. This is simply because the mother-child love bond is so strong and unconditional. We always want to make life easy and rosy for each other. We could not bear seeing each other suffer in the slightest way. Mom worried about how tiring driving alone for me. I realized how taxing physically on her and Dad taking the bus. We knew very well what we were trying, and willing to do for each other. That's why we insisted what we wanted to do all along and would never back down. Never! That's why it was so exhausting.

How can love be so strenuous?

Happy Mothers' Day.

Overheard #17

2011-05-04T02:01:00.007+08:00

"Common sense is uncommon."

Ironic, but absolutely true.

Questions of the Day

2011-05-01T23:25:00.009+08:00

Today, I turn 35. Life still as unexpected and complicated and challenging as it is, as it always been. Many a times when I thought I get a grip on it, when I thought I was standing tall and firm, the rug was pulled off underneath my feet. It's not fun falling flat on my ass, after all I'm 35 now. Curve balls come flying at break-neck speed left right and center, hitting me in the face. Ouch, not in the face!

Moving to Africa is a giant leap into the abyss of unknown. While it was exciting, it is also daunting to live and work in a new and foreign setting: people, cultures, language and weather. Truth be told, doubts still linger over my head as to whether I'm cut out for it. I absolutely did not foresee I question myself over this as frequently.

At long last I bought my own place. My bachelor pad? I'm not too sure about it either. Entering an age when my peers are building careers, taking the plunge, raising kids or even burying parents, that cornered me into evaluating my outlook on life. Or is that succumbing to peer pressure? How long can I hold this current state of my (so-called) life? Or should I?

And what happen to my dreams? There are still there, I suppose. But am I getting any closer to reaching them? At times I laugh off the youthful ideals of the youngsters. What do you snotty face know about life? I would snickered at them. Well then, what do I really know about life anyway. Deep down inside, I'm secretly admiring and envious of their reckless courage and brutal honesty.

Today, I turn 35. Many questions remain unanswered. And many more questions popped up, still popping up.

Oh, I still have not completed a marathon by 35.

Happy birthday to me.

Ancient Romantics

2011-04-27T03:58:00.008+08:00

Imagine laying to rest surrounded by colorfully paintings Gods and angels and beautiful hieroglyphics verses and underneath a blue starry sky.

Such were the amazingly well preserved tomb paintings in El Kurru. El Kurru is located near the town of Karima, about 4 hours drive north of Khartoum. It was one of the royal burial ground for ancient Nubian royal family, dated back to 850 BC. In the area there are around 30 pyramids, perhaps more. However they deteriorated and reduced to piles of rock by the elements and looters through the centuries. So it was truly miraculous and precious, descending into the tombs to discover the surviving fresco paintings in the burial chambers. There are only 2 tombs available for visit nowadays, the Tomb of Tanwetamani, pharaoh of the XXV Nubian Dynasty, and the Tomb of Qalhata, mother of Tanwetamani. The walls were decorated with colorful images of pantheon of the Egyptian Gods, with so much careful details, as well as the hieroglyphic text. The ceiling of the chamber was literally covered with stars in bright red and yellow, against the beautiful blue sky.

That was what amazed me the most, the colors of the blue starry sky remains through the years, remarkably vivid, vibrant and captivating, especially the bright hue of blue. And laying beneath the stars, even in death, such a romantic notion.

Bagel!

2011-04-24T03:25:00.005+08:00

I found bagels here in Khartoum! You can't possibly imagine how over-the-moon thrill I was. I almost broke out doing my stupid dance right there and then at the grocery store. Almost.

For breakfast, I had the top half toasted and spread generously with cream cheese.

For lunch, I had the bottom half lightly toasted, spread with mustard, lined with beef pepperoni, topped with mozzarella melt and sprinkled with pepper.

Quick, simple, filling, tasty, almost zero clean up.

I'm a lazy genius. Hahahaha...

Cerf-volant

2011-04-22T06:04:00.009+08:00

My friend E was interested in volunteering and she was asking me about the orphanage in Phnom Penh I worked in a couple of years ago. As I was sharing my experience with her, the happy days with the kids flooded back into my mind, overwhelmingly. Once again I was back to that bright and windy evening along the Tonle river, when our colorful kites flew high in the sky and our gleeful laughters resonated loud in the air. I remember my head was playing the song Cerf-volant from the movie Les Choristes over and over again. That was a beautiful song, that was a beautiful evening.

Cerf-volant

Volant au vent

Ne t'arrête pas

Vers la mers

Haut dans les airs

Un enfant te voit

Voyage insolent

Troubles enivrant

Amours innocentes

Suivent ta voie

En volant

Cerf-volant

Volant au vent

Ne t'arrête pas

Vers la mers

Haut dans les airs

Un enfant te voit

Et dans la tourmente

Tes ailes triomphantes

N'oublie pas de revenir

Vers moi

Boxed Up Flavors

2011-04-19T04:43:00.007+08:00

When you are living on your own in a foreign land with limited dining out options and challenging to source ingredients and you are servantless and you want your meals quick or basically just being a demanding prick about your food, you try to cook yr meals in batches, big ones. Last weekend, I made a pan of savory sweetness caramelized onions with mushroom in the afternoon and then another pan of kick ass spicy anchovies sambal.

Now that I have them all boxed up in the fridge, I can get them out and use them as sandwich filling, like my no name sandwich, or pizza topping, or simply eat them with white rice, or add some meat or chicken or vegetable for a quick stir fry and then eat them with rice.

Again, I'm a genius!!

The possibilities, endless.

Well until I run out of them.

Overheard #16

2011-04-18T04:33:00.004+08:00

"Time heals everything." - Unknown

But how long?

And what do I do during this time?

I pray for you strength. I wish for you love.

My No Name Sandwich

2011-04-17T03:30:00.004+08:00

My Arabic class ended at half past eleven this morning. I was hungry and wanted something quick, as I was heading out with friends for some shopping. So I made this sandwich in like dashing 10 minutes.

Two pieces of wholewheat bread toasted in the toaster oven while an egg fried in a pan, seasoned with pepper and Italian mixed herbs. When the toasts ready, a slice was smeared with my anchovies sambal (I made them last weeked), piled up the egg and topped with my caramelized onions and mushrooms (I also made them last weekend).

Lunch's ready, simple with great flavors, the spicy zing from the sambal, sweetness from the onions and savory from the egg packed between two slices of toast.

I'm a genius!

It'd be nice to grate some cheese over the top and then put it back in the toaster oven for a couple minutes to melt the cheese and then serve it up as an open sandwich. Well, I was too hungry and too lazy.

What should I name this little culinary creation of mine?

That's Where I Wanna Be

2011-04-15T00:08:00.008+08:00

2 more weeks before I head home for my 20 days off rotation. I think I'm going a little coo coo. In the last few days, everywhere I go, when I catch a sniff of food, especially fried fare, I only smell KFC! Oh how I miss 'em fried chicken with its crispy skin, loaded with sinfully delicious grease and fat. Oh good thing there's an KFC outlet at the airport. I'm so getting my KFC fix right there after I landed.

KFC has always been my numero uno fast food of choice. It's such a picker-upper for me too. I remember slugging through South America back in 2001, stretching my penny each and every step of the way, eating the local rice and beans and depriving myself of indulgence like fast food. I was on the road for close to 6 months already when I got to Santiago, Chile. Particularly at that point, I was not at a very happy place, having a hard time sorting out my returning flight for about one and a half month. Dark clouds over my head. As I was wandering in downtown Santiago, I saw that strikingly cheerful red signboard with that inviting smiley face. Almost like a knee-jerk reflex, I went straight in and chowed down a 2-piece special. Suddenly the gloominess cleared off in a jiffy and it was sunshine everywhere. I was unbelievably happy and gleefully elated!

And today, I got my homebound flight ticket! KFC here I come.

Yay!

Khmer Smiles

2011-04-14T00:14:00.013+08:00

Angkor Wat never ceased to amaze, from the grandeur and splendor of the temple complex, to the intricacy and the attention to the little details, such as the upward curl on the lips on even the smallest of the statutes.

Oh yeah I know, the title is lame. I could have been more creative.

Legacy

2011-04-07T03:32:00.003+08:00

Sitting atop Jebel Barkal, looking at the deteriorating pyramids scattered in the sand below and the setting sun dropping gently below the desert horizon, I realized that all the wealth and power, in the end, reduce to a pile of rocks.

So, what are you doing with your life now? What are you leaving behind when you are gone?

Err 99

2011-04-03T02:39:00.007+08:00

Went away last weekend, traveling to desert towns of old Dongola and Karima in northern Sudan for several archeological sites , exploring temple ruins and pyramids and royal tombs like Indiana Jones. Unfortunately my DSLR went crazy on me with 'Err 99', which I guess equivalent to a blue screen on a PC.

Oh God damn it!

I shot the entire weekend with my Nokia 6300.

Oh WTF!

@#$%&!

It was an interesting trip nonetheless.

Baking Again... Not So Soon

2011-03-29T02:50:00.006+08:00

Since I got back to Khartoum back in mid February, I've been meaning to bake. There's an oven in the kitchen. It's something I enjoy very much and been doing it back in KL. Most importantly, there'll be some sweet to feast on in the end.

Particularly, I would like to bake carrot cake, my forte in baking. My carrot cake with cream cheese frosting, there are people out there think it's almost as good as one of the top bakeries back home and some even willing to pay for it. So I brought along a measuring cup, a grater, a whisk, a spatula and a 8-in square baking tin.

Until now, I have not bake anything.

First of all, those baking utensils I brought along got my squashed in the luggage. The grater frame was broken and the whisk was scrunched up. Well with a little of fixing they are good to go (and they are fixed). But the baking tin, it was bent out of shape. No tin, no baking.

Anyway I started to go through the supplies in the kitchen. While I had successfully located cinnamon powder, I also found out that we are running low on sugar. No sugar, no baking.

Then I realized there is no sieve in the kitchen. No sieve, no baking.

A few weekends ago a score a good deal on some baking wares. I picked up a sieve and a pack of sugar. I also have been buying carrots during my weekend grocery runs. In fact I've been collecting carrots in the fridge. The reason being I found out that I have got no baking soda. No baking soda, no baking.

I actually got some from my neighbors, 2 of them. I was all happy and all ready to get cracking. However, they were actually giving me baking powder. Still no baking soda, still no baking.

Last weekend, I finally found baking soda in the shop and I happily scooped a jar. I also found cream cheese for the frosting too. As I about to put the cream cheese in my shopping cart, I noticed I have not seen icing sugar available. Well I convinced myself that it's ok, I would start with just a simple carrot cake sans frosting. It'd be a treat still.

As I was unpacking my grocery at home, getting ready to bake, a sense of uneasiness creeping in. Damn, I forgot the walnut. I love the nutty flavor and crunch in the cake. Not walnuts, no baking.

Well, I'll get some walnut this weekend. By then, everything would be checked and carrot cake this weekend. I'm salivating now.

Oh wait, this weekend I might be out of town visiting pyramids and temples ruins. No in town, no baking.

Just Wondering

2011-03-28T03:14:00.007+08:00

More than 30000 copies of the Holy Bible in the Malay language were seized by the authority in Port Klang and Kuching Port because the word 'Allah' was use in the publication to refer to God.

Since when did the word Allah proprietary to Muslim? And where is this insecurity about one's faith coming from?

On the flip side, why can't the Christian quarters use the word Tuhan in reference to God.

I wonder what Allah thinks about that.

P/S: I believe in God, just no one in particular. I doubt religions, all of them.

Getting Some?

2011-03-25T22:06:00.003+08:00

Another sex tape hits the country, headlining front pages, occupying prime time news, rocking radio air waves, blasting the cyber-sphere.

Damn, we are one hell of a sex-crazed nation.

Are we really that desperate?

Carpe Diem

2011-03-19T05:00:00.006+08:00

I was chatting with my friend BB back at home, online. We were talking about the massively devastating earthquake and tsunami and the nuclear aftermath in Japan. How powerful Mother Nature is, while how small and how insignificant are we. How life is so uncertain, so unpredictable, so fragile and so vulnerable. In a split second, everything is gone. We might not have as much time as we think to do whatever we plan to do tomorrow. Whatever you want to do, the best time to do it is now. There's no time like the present. Procrastination is the devil within us, cooing us into complacency, tricking us into taking things for granted, drifting us from those we love and blinding us from what's matter the most, our dreams.

"What are your dreams?" BB asked me, point blank.

"What are my dreams?" I asked myself, silently.

Spending time with family. Completing a marathon. Going back to school. Publishing a cookbook. Running a patisserie. Traveling. Volunteering. Farming organically.

These are more of a personal fulfillment, my own goal. I must admit they are somewhat selfish. But i think we must first make ourselves happy before we are able to spread our joy to the others.

What's your dream?

Seize the day, make it happen.

Simple Makes Tasty

2011-03-17T03:34:00.004+08:00

This is perhaps the simplest and quickest sandwich I made, whenever I can get hold of the main filling, bak kua. Bak kua is actually barbecued sweet pork slices, pretty similar to jerky. I brought along 2 big packets of these sweet meat to Khartoum coming back from my holiday at home.

Actually, a friend made me this simple sandwich almost a good 12 years ago. Since then I've been tweaking it, perfecting it, by adding cheese and mayo and lettuce and this and that. But I still find the original version the best, simple a piece of bak kua with a thin spread of chili sauce and sliced cucumbers, in between 2 pieces of whole wheat bread. The meat sweetness and smokey-ness balance well with the spicy-ness from the chili sauce, and the sliced cucumbers add a refreshing crunch to every bite.

It takes no time to make it and it take no time to chow it down too.

One Pot Wonder

2011-03-14T03:31:00.005+08:00

On my weekly grocery run last week, I scored a great deal (I think) on some bake-ware: a 9-in square glass baking dish and a 4-in diameter casserole dish with cover for 35 Sudanese Pound. Quickly I put them into action, by making this one pot wonder chicken pie.

Everything diced: button mushrooms, carrot, onion and chicken breast. Then vegetable sauteed for a couple of minutes before chicken and frozen peas added. A couple spoonful of canned white-sauce (I cheated) for pasta and milk stirred in and brought to a simmer. Here I also mixed in some homemade croutons from my stale bread to pump up the volume of the filling then put it in my brand new casserole dish. Cheese grated generously on top. Finally covered the dish with a piece of rolled out store bought pastry (I cheated again) and baked in the oven until the pastry puffed up voluptuously and turned beautifully golden brown.

Get ready to tuck in.

I think I rolled out too hard on my pastry it got compressed too much. Hence it did not puffed up. Oh well, yummy nonetheless.

Prayers for Japan

2011-03-11T14:57:00.005+08:00

I was just visiting the 2004 tsunami ravaged Phuket island and Phi Phi island in January this year. It was such an amazing feeling seeing the islanders back on their feet and smiles curling back on their faces.

And now Japan.

My prayers go out to you. I pray for you strength and resilience.

This too shall pass.

Morning Madness

2011-03-08T16:16:00.003+08:00

I went to the field last weekend, the oil field. The field was located in the south, an hour flight away. I was anticipating a challenging field trip, as the condition and environment in the south and out in the field is extremely basic and rough, harsh even.

But the most challenging part of the whole trip, was getting through the airport security. Now who would've guessed that? When I got to the domestic terminal at the airport, the entrance was already packed full to the brim. In fact people were spilling outside. Needless to say, there was no queue, just a lot of pushing and shoveling, as well as a lot of yelling, and possibly swearing, in Arabic. Everyone was trying to get through. I stood in a line, or what I thought was the line for a good 10 minutes. It was not moving at all, just more shuffling and cutting queue, complete chaos. What a commotion!

It turned out to be the luggage security scanner.

Why can't everyone just line up, put their luggage on the conveyor belt and leave it to the officer to do the checking , then walk through the metal detector and pick up their luggage and get the fucking on with it?

"In Sudan, nothing is impossible." My colleague, Z said to me. I've only been here a little over 4 months. There are so much more to discover, learn, adapt and adjust.

Bus Trip to Kep

2011-03-07T03:47:00.009+08:00

The sun was up high and blasting. It was hot outside and it was getting hotter inside the bus. The AC wasn't working too well, or not working at all. The heat was seeping into the bus. Stuffy and sweaty, it was going to be a dreadfully long 5-hour ride from Phnom Penh to Kep. So, I was trying to sleep it off, hopefully when I woke up then I'd be in Kep.

In the rickety bus along the bumpy road, I managed to doze off, drifting in and out of the la-la land. It reminded me of my ablation procedure to treat my SVT some years ago, semi-sedated, except the procedure was carried out on a stuffy traveling oven.

The next moment I opened my eyes again, the bus stopped by the road. There were a bit of a commotion outside the bus and a lot of fidgeting inside the bus. Then passengers started to go down to find out what the heck was going on. More followed suit. As it turned out, it was a punctured tyre.

Right, the 5-hour ride will be longer now. I went down to take a leak, smoke a fag, snap a few photos, killing time.

What is a bus ride without a breakdown in the middle of nowhere. No fun!

A Place of My Own

2011-03-06T02:46:00.005+08:00

I've got my own place! FINALLY!

Since I'm now in Sudan, arrangement was made for my lawyer to deliver to keys to my condo, no, my bachelor pad, to my sister over the weekend. So yesterday I called her and she confirmed that the transaction had taken place and she successfully secure the merchandise. Such an covert operation indeed. I then call her again when she get to my bachelor pad to check that everything was in place. Well, almost everything, 2 table lamps were missing and the AC unit in the living room did not seem to be working. Small matter. I can always get my own table lamps and had the AC fix in no time when I get home.

After years of being a commitment-phobe (financially), I decided to buy. Then after years house hunting, viewing, price negotiating, wheeling and dealing, considering location, amenities, appreciation value, feng-shui, cool-factor and all, I had my eyes locked on this one. But just after I signed the sales and purchase agreement, I was relocated to Sudan for work. What followed were months of back and forth Khartoum-KL calls and emails and text messages with the vendor and the lawyer and the bank and my sister on the paperwork and the documents and the loan agreements and the balance payment and the handover date and the keys.

Now, done deal. I got my bachelor pad!

Yay!

Now, the bank own my ass.

But still, yay!

Rocking

2011-02-28T00:32:00.003+08:00

Lately, life feels a bit like this, like a boat rocking in the middle of the sea. Not exactly capsizing or tipping over, but not exactly smooth sailing too.

Just rocking in the middle of the sea.

Non-Sudanese

2011-02-26T06:43:00.004+08:00

After 11 hours up in the air, I landed in Khartoum for another of my 70-day work rotation. While the flight was smooth, I was beat after cooping up for so long in the flight. My only wish was to get through the immigration ASAP and pick up my luggage then head straight back to bed. Jet-leg was totally kicking in full blast. My body and my brain were shutting down simultaneously.

Like a zombie I dragged myself to the end of a very long queue at the immigration. There must be like a good 8 immigration desks, but only 2 were manned. We were inching on miserably slow. It took forever, it seemed. Clearly they were a few officers milling around but none ready to get behind the desk.

Then my prayer answered. "Oh praise the Lord!" One officer was assigned to man another desk to ease the flow. And he was getting ready to work on the desk marked Non-Sudanese. "Oh praise the Lord, indeed!"

All the foreigners in line were all getting excited and alert, myself included, suddenly from a dopey sloth turning into a leopard stalking it's prey, stealth, vigilant, quick and ready to dash in for the kill.

As soon as the officer nodded his head signaling the opening of the new counter, a few foreigners galloped gallantly from the back of the line to the front of the new desk. Soon more followed, among them Sudanese. I was about to made my move when an officer came over to the line telling the foreigners at the very front of the new line, "This line is for Sudanese only". I could see from the baffling expression on the faces of the foreigner, saying:"But, but the sign says for Non-Sudanese!" Dejectedly, and most probably pissed as well, they moved back to the end of the my queue.

Welcome to Sudan.

Blue Hour Shot

2011-02-21T03:34:00.004+08:00

My first try shooting at the blue hours. My hotel perched on the cliff over looking Phang Nga Bay, on Phi Phi island. Sitting my camera on the railing (as I did not bring my tripod), I took all together over 20 shots, at various shuttle speed. This one turned out the best, to me anyway.

Came and Gone

2011-02-18T06:56:00.002+08:00

This Lunar new year was really a quiet one, just hanging out with family, friends, getting ang pows, eating loads and loads of festive treats and goodies. Other than that, it was like any other day holiday-ing at home. I slept in every morning, I went for my evening walk with my cousin, I drove around town aimlessly, I watched t.v. till the wee hours at night.

The Lunar new year came and gone, so swiftly. I did not even realize it.

Am I getting that old and turning indifferent?

I think I need to start a new year tradition, something joyous and noisy, family oriented, children friendly, friends welcomed, strangers allowed, smoke free, free flowing booze, food aplenty and preferably on a shoe-string budget.

I have a year to come up with one brilliant idea.

Ripples

2011-02-14T22:49:00.004+08:00

Have you try throwing a pebble into the sea or a lake? No matter how small is the pebble and how soft your is toss, as it hits the water, the ripples gracefully radiate into all directions and grow bigger and bigger, covering the surface of the water as far as you can see.

Your simple words, bringing back so much memories, transferring me back to our days together, anticipating the one day we finally meet again.

Your simple words, they were like the small pebble creating such gentle oscillations, emanating across the huge body of water.

Happy V-day

Resilience

2011-02-11T00:09:00.005+08:00

It was supposed to be days of festivities and joy. But some 4 years ago on that terrible day, the devastating waves hit the shore, swept almost everything away and torn what left behind apart to pieces. Then time stood deadly still for so long and the space was filled with enormous sadness and sorrow, so enormous that it shattered one's hope, so enormous that it crushed one's spirit.

Now the pieces are picked up and put back together. Home rebuilt, shops reconstructed, hotels reopened. The tourists are returning Phi Phi island, in throngs. More importantly, the smiles are also returning to the friendly faces of the Thai people.

Hopes regained.

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. So much stronger than you know.

Overherad #15

2011-01-31T23:47:00.003+08:00

"In the world of compromise, some men don't." HK slogan.

Pit Stop

2011-01-22T23:36:00.005+08:00

My flight home for my off rotation had a transiting stop in Doha. I made a quick dash out to enjoy the city and see about a friend who's working there. After more than 2 months of brown and dusty, Doha with its manicured lawns, clean organized streets and futuristic skyline, looks like heaven to me, absolute heaven!

"I want to move and work and live here!" I repeated that like a broken record, to the annoyance of my friend.

Sorry W. Please bear with me.

This Time Next Week

2011-01-15T03:31:00.005+08:00

This time around next week, I'll be home! Yay! My very first R&R, 20 wonderful and lovely days off, relaxing and doing nothing await.

After 80 over mundane and monotonous days here in Khartoum, I'm really really really looking forward to go home. Well not so much for the exciting big city sights and sounds or comfort and luxury, rather it's more of getting away from the depressing brown ambience here, and heading home for the vibrant and invigorating green landscape, and more importantly the familiarity and ease of home and the people.

Oh wait, this time next week, I'll actually be at the wedding reception of one of my younger cousins, avoiding and deflecting the "Hey when are going getting married?" question and the 8 millions varieties of questions along that line, from grandma, mom, aunts, uncles, older and younger married cousins and other hardly known and unknown relatives.

Still, I'm looking forward for home.

Faces

2011-01-08T18:13:00.006+08:00

Just can't shake off the faces of the kids at Kandahar. Kids, no older than mid teens. At such tender age they are out earning a couple measly bucks, shining shoes and washing cars. How hard life has been, and will be for them? Still they are all wide-eye and smiley face and high spirited. Innocence is perhaps a blessing and a curse.

Poverty is a vicious cycle. How do we break that? I thought of my twin nephews A and J at home, how blessed and how lucky and how spoilt they are.

First Meal of 2011

2011-01-04T04:29:00.009+08:00

We headed out to Kandahar on the crisp chilly morning of new year's day. Here, Kandahar is a neighborhood at the edge of Khartoum, not the war torn hotspot in Afghanistan. It is famous for it's grilled kharouf (lamb) eateries serving up amazing kharouf meals.

We were there to kick off the new year with a feast of pan grilled kharouf, barbecued ribs and local kharouf stew. The meat was cooked over charcoal fired stove. Once done, the food was wonderfully spread on a huge pan and served with greens, salad, bread, dipping sauces and other delicious trimmings. There was no cutlery. We sat around the pan and ate with our hands.

The meat and ribs was grilled to perfection. The chunks of meat jolting taste buds to life with it's tenderness, succulence, earthy sweetness and smokey-ness, without a hint of the gamy smell that normally associated with lamb. They have a magical way of farming their kharouf here, the meat is just soft and without the overpowering smell. The stew was just as good, rich, sweet and spicy, kind of a distant cousin of curry, with the meat soft and falling out from the bones, assimilated into the thick gravy. It was just as natural as a reflex to soak up the tasty juiciness of the stew with a piece of bread. Oh heavenly scrumptousness. Everything of the meal was just superb, even the strange raw onion salad, simply dressed with fresh lime, was sweet and refreshing.

My first meal of 2011 was indeed a feast to remember, and hopefully to repeat regularly.