Crowd Forest

Missing to show me the place during my last trip in May (we were actually there before the place was even opened), my friend, M insisted that we go to check out the latest attraction that the amazing beautiful island nation of Singapore has to offer. 

We went into the Crowd Forest Conservatory, oh I meant the Cloud Forest Conservatory, and was immediately confronted to a gazillion of others. The visitors formed a roaring river flowing in, very much like the gushing water pouring down from the manmade waterfall inside the conservatory. The place was hopping and bobbing,  absolutely packed and noisy! 

Truth be told it was not an enjoyable experience being rounded up and herded along like cattle. Well at least the orchids were really pretty and lovely. 

It was on the news a couple of weeks later, they cleared the conservatory for Kate and Will. Oh what a bunch of suck ups!

Teacher

She is the all in one caretaker-guide-ticket booth operator of the Nyamata Catholic Church, now a genocide memorial. She collected my fee and showed me the way in.

That morning, I was the only visitor. Gingerly I went into the dimly lit church, so careful with my step that as if I would shatter the haunting silence. The sight of the piles of blood stained clothes on the pews, rows after rows, was blindingly glaring.  The air was stale and heavy, suffocating almost. I forced myself to take it in but it was too much to bear. I walked out.

I sat with her. I asked her about the memorial, about the people around and the horrific bloody killings in the church back then. She told me stories about that dark period of Rwanda, slowly and matter-of-factly. It was believed that about 10000 people, mostly ethic Tutsi were massacred in the church by the merciless and senseless swings of machetes. I froze for a moment, for such unimaginably hideous acts just happened 17 years ago. I asked her how the people in the area moving on. She smiled, then she looked away.

She later told me that she used to be a teacher. Now she's working at the memorial full time as the guide, talking to visitors, the few backpackers or group of local school kids. The money is not as good but she likes it a lot. She's happier here. "Well, it's another form of teaching." She said, beaming with pride.

It sun was up high. But it was breezy. I lingered around the shady church yard listening to the leaves chiming in in the wind.

Burn 'Em Shorts

Saturday afternoon in Juba, I was at the Juba Hash House Harriers group meet up. A newbie in the group, J was saying he wasn't sure what to wear for the run. He was actually thinking of wearing longs, which is a penalty in the run and resulting in a severe punishment of chugging down a beer at the end of the run. As everyone in the group run in our shorts, I asked him why he wanted to wear longs, and it was a hot day too.

"Don't you know? I was told that only the gays wear shorts here in Juba. They are showing off their legs looking for some actions! Look around in town, no one wear shorts!" J explained. 

Come to think of it, he was right. There's no one wear shorts here, no adult Jubanite male wear shorts going about. But how would anyone think of wearing shorts as an indication of being gay? Not that there's a guideline being issued by the government to warn parents and teachers, like in Malaysia, that gays like to wear colourful tight V-necks and carry a huge handbags. 

Knowing that shorts in Juba is equivalent to V-necks in KL, what am I going to do with all my shorts? Burn 'em all?

Done

It's over. It has been dragging long enough and it's not getting anywhere. Well it does, it gets to the end.  

Suddenly the line that says your silence is a confirmation can be extremely rude and cruel.

Suddenly silence can be deafening and painful.

This too shall pass.

Surprise!

In the eyes of friends and colleagues, I'm a super health nut. They know I pump iron and yoga regularly. They've seen my lunchbox filled with wholewheat sandwich with loads of fresh vegetables and fruits. Most of them (if not all) think that I'm in a pretty enviable shape too. 

Indeed I do take care of myself pretty well. I hit the gym everyday after work, pound the park trail every Friday and log laps in the pool over the weekend as well as practice yoga twice a week. For my diet, I eat at home. I always stick to a simple, light and balanced meal. Muesli and fruit for breakfast and for dinner, normally a ham and cheese on brown bread with a lot of fresh greens. And always, a lot of fluid intake throughout the day, like 2.5 to 3L. 

So all in all I'm quite a fit guy (ahem, if I may say so), generally healthy. I must admit there were times that I felt absolutely invincible that I probably we able to live up to 126 or so. Recently I went for my annual medical checkup. When the report came back, I was somewhat expecting a clean bill on my health report. 

Surprise! Surprise!

First of all, I have a low red blood cell count. The doctor asked me if I had cut myself lately? Nope. Bleeding in the gum while brushing my teeth? Nope. Blood in the stool? Errr... Doc I don't look at my shit. Well, maybe I should. Then I asked what can I do about it. Diet? Meds? He told me there's nothing I can do about it. Just for good measure he threw in a "Don't worry you are fine!" bit. OK Doc, if you said so.

Then my 3-month blood sugar is on the high side. According to the report, my glucose control index was satisfactory control. And do not be fooled by that, considering it's just a rep up from poor control, which is the worst. Again the doctor was pretty cheerful and cool about it. He offered that since I was in Africa for the last 2 month, deprived of the sumptuous food from home, I must had been feasting like no tomorrow being home. That might have skewed the test therefore no exactly reflective. He assured me that I'm fine. While that made sense, dad was diabetic and it's in the family so I do need to watch out. 

And the biggest surprise of all, my total cholesterol in my lipid profile was right on the borderline. Say what??? Oh say it ain't so! How could that be possible. I stay away from fatty stuff (mostly) and I'm not a red meat fan. Even though there's no gym in Juba I'm still manage to exercise 4 times a week. So what's going on? I couldn't believe it. That's really threw me off the loop big time. 

The cholesterol result scared me shitless. All sorts of alarm bells ringing loud and red flags rising high. A more regimented workout plan must be put in place. So far I workout on my own in my room thrice a week, found a yoga place to practice twice a week and I run with the Hash group in Juba (Yes there's even a Hash House Harrier group in Juba) every Saturday evening. More importantly I must watch out on what I put in my body. No more sugary carbonated drinks, no more less red meat, no more high cholesterol food and more greens.

Then the restaurant at the hotel keep putting avocado in the salad. Damn I love avocado!

Oh temptations...

Eid Reflection

Last Ramadhan, I was wandering along the narrow streets of Lamu old town, a 14th century settlement with the Islamic culture still deeply rooted in the island life. The people are friendly and warm and open and generous andwelcoming, inviting me to join them for iftar by the river front, receiving me into their home on a hot Ramadhan afternoon and offering me a glass of cold water while they were fasting. 

This Eid Fitr, while you are celebrating with your family and loved ones, I wish that your reflection during Ramadhan bring you clarity, strength, wisdom and joy for the year throughout. I'll be reminiscing of the good times in Lamu and reflecting on the simple lessons of humbleness and generosity of the people Lamu taught me.

Eid Mubarak.

Patchy Addis Ababa

Flying over Addia Ababa on my way to Beijing. The patch work of a spectrum of lush green and dark blue and solid black on the ground just took my breath away. Isn't that just pretty?

Addis Ababa, patchy but not sketchy.