Dottiedot's Travelogue

More than makanmates

2008-08-19T13:32:00.002+08:00

The Company is more than just makanmates – at least on 17 August 2008.

Eating is not our only forte.

There was onion-chopping, pineapple-dicing, soup-stirring, lotus-flower smashing, laksa-leave plucking, lemon-grass cutting, cucumber de-seeding, garlic peeling, prawn-paste blending, dry-chilli cutting, kampong-fish deboning and peeling and lots and lots of blending and stirring.

June has bravely invited The Company over her house for a Penang Laksa Party cum Photo-Sharing Session cum Olympics Badminton Match, despite of the limited cooking expertise and kitchen knowledge, which could possible cause catastrophic disaster in her home.

Some of the girls proved their worth this time round, that they can do more than just eating, while some, whose names shall remain unknown, for the sake of better karma, are better off doing the sums for our group outings.

The self-volunteered “maids” were scheduled to knock on June’s door at 10.15am, and the chefs to make their grand entry about 10.30am. Maids were designated or self-appointed for those who happened to live within the radius of Mdm June’s locality. Those from the other far, far end of Singapore were spared from the maid duties, even those with wheels.

Chef Lynn beat the clock and turned up at 930 am, 1 hour ahead from the original time, with her “kampong fish”, yellow ginger, blue ginger, laksa leave, onions and garlic, all ready to cook up a storm in June’s usually tranquil kitchen.
Maid Dot did not turn up on time. At 10.45am, an appeal message fromJune came, “ Can you all please fly to my house now?” I’ve missed a stop and turned up 10 minutes before 11am. But I was not the the last to arrive, in fact, I was the first “maid” to report at Mdm June’s house.

I entered the kitchen and June was seated right next to the stove on a stool, peeling the onions and garlic, with a plastic bag tied to the cabinet in front of her. She looked up and the expression on her face bears a striking resemblance to the Puss-in-boots Cat in the movie, Shrek – with the “poor-thing”face silently shouting HELP.

Chef Lynn was tickled pink. It’s not funny when you have to peel garlic for one entire hour and it was like back in school days when you get punishment from your teacher and copying pages and pages of words. June deserves a pat on the back for not playing truant and obediently sitting there till her scapegoat maid Dot came along. June soon escaped back to her room to “settle” her photographs for the presentation.

And I took over the peeling of the garlic, while watching in anticipation for the next replacement maid to arrive.

“Good neighbour” Jess was even later. She appeared at about 11.30am, with three left-over donuts to share. But she did her due diligence to cut the cucumber and de-seed the fresh chillies, while Chef Lynn was busy preparing her secret-recipe soup and I trying to figure out the best way to de-bone the fish.

By noon, Maid Mae and Chef Hoon Hong have arrived. Maid Mae was banished to slice the cucumbers and the pineapple, while the Maid Agent Raj, stood by to finger-point and give instructions on how best to do the job. Mae would have failed her QC test if she is applying for a job in Singapore, but The Company is ever-forgiving. Despite her unsure moves and decapitated cucumber slices, the gang still accepted the end-product, with a little bit of doubt. Maid Agent Raj also gave a hands-on demonstration on how to cut the cucumber,in the hope that his Grade-D maid would move a little near the borderline grade.

At around one, The Makan Company streamed in, Yen Sze, Choon Siong, Cheng, Uncle Raj and Taitai June to attack the Penang laksa. Siewfang also zipped in from work, on the pretext of “very important things to attend”, to savour and enjoy the makanfeast before her National Day rally event in the late afternoon.

Two pots of gravy, two different chefs. But the group mission remains focused – to savour the homemade Penang laksa back in homeground. Different permutations and combinations of the soup were tried– some took the “combinasi”, while others opted for two separate bowls,straight in a row.

This time round, there was no mad rush like in Penang. We were in the comforts of Mdm June’s home and there was no urgency. Everyone just took their own sweet time to savour the soup and enjoy the two versions of the Penang laksa. Hoon Hong’s recipe originated from her Malaysian friend, while Lynn’s friend who lives in Penang taught her how to prepare this somewhat complicated dish.

No Pepsi-Cola Challenge was executed. The verdict – Both are nice, Hoon Hong’s version is powerful and spicer and thicker while Lynn’s was more generous with the soup and less-brutal on the taste-buds.

Swee Ong gave The Company an eye feast with his beautiful shots of his travels in Cambodia and Lake Toba, while the Choon Siong showed the gorgeous images of Mount Bromo and the silly jumping stunts they all did in the name of fun during their recent East Java trip. Mae also flaunted the Princess Mae ferry in Philippines and the slightly wrinkled Chez. Divemaster cum boyfriend-to-be who made her heart flutter in the romantic island of Philippines and her other romantic sidekicks.

In between the slide shows and stories-sharing sessions, The Company kept their mouths busy with curious questions about the places, prices and also took turns to go into the kitchen for extra helping of the home-made Penang laksa, prawn crackers, potato chips and logan-loaded cheng ting, courtesy of Mdm June’s Dad. Yen Sze and June also shared their precious photo albums of Vietnam, Japan and others.

By 7pm, the two pots of Penang laksa soup has been merged into one by stand-by apprentice Cheng, who also made the dip for the cut fruits, with the leftover prawn paste and ingredients. Taitai June was smart. The often-acclaimed but never-seen Vietnamese flower salad did not appear, but was replaced with freshly cut watermelon, melons and mangoes. And dinner was more Penang laksa plus three packs from the coffeeshop in the next block- fried rice, Hong Kong noodles and bee-hoon.

Nothing beats sitting together with great company, cheering and jeering the table tennis players, the Singapore team who was contending for the Gold medal for table tennis. Guru Raj’s prophecy was right. The formula- Win-Lose-Lose-Lose did come true and Singapore didn’t manage to clinch the gold medal. But the match was exciting nonetheless.

The 17 August Laksa Party turned out to be a communal Sunday, different from our usual Sunday treks, interestingly somewhat of the kampong spirit. There’s no sweating from exercising but still loads of fun and laughter as usual. And I’ve learnt something new, the fishflakes in the Penang laska is not what I thought it was - tunaflakes from cans, but from fresh kampong fish nicely peeled and thrown into the soup. And you need to smash and pour in an extra can of sardines into the Penang laksa soup base to make the soup more fragrant and thicker.

Special thanks to June for the special invitation and for tolerating the storm we created in her kitchen, offering her ah-ma’s pots and pans, paper cups, plates, drinks and everything else.

And a round of applause to our two super-hardworking Made-in-Malaysia chefs, Lynn and Hoon Hong for waking up so early on a Sunday morning to get the freshes t ingredients for the home-made Penang laska. It only proves one thing – the Singaporean gals have a long way to catch up.

Our friendship have inched closer and I’m sure there will be more activities, makan sessions and trips brewing, in the months and years to come, more aromatic and lasting than the flavors of the laksa.

Dot thy maid has done my slavery chores in the kitchen and reporting.

Thanks folks for the great company.

中国云南广西十四天背包行2007 年8 月18日至31日

2007-12-05T22:44:00.000+08:00

昆明，云南，大理，丽江，桂林，阳朔

在短短的两个星期，我和好友洁霞到了云南的昆明，大理，丽江和广西的桂林和阳朔。我们吃喝玩乐，游湖，骑马，爬山，打水战，途中也遇到了一些难忘的经历。我喜欢中国，喜欢中国几千年的浓厚历史，喜欢她多姿多采的少数民族和美食，也对她的厕所有着“特别” 的回忆。

中国厕所历险记
在云南，人们都把厕所称为歌舞厅，把上 “小号”称为唱歌，“大号”称为
跳舞。还未到中国之前，常听说在中国上厕所要提伞，穿拖鞋因为厕所内有很多小蛆的可怕故事。我的亲生初体验也确定了这些“谣言”。每一次要去厕所，由其是在乡村地方，就让我非常的为却，进去前，要想好几个步骤，做好心里准备，才能“奋勇” 的面对眼前的一切。厕所内没有门，只有几道矮墙隔开的地方让你自由地唱歌跳舞，有时也会无意看到旁人春光渣泄。

昆明

云南有十八怪，第十七怪 - 过桥米线人人爱。这道美食是到云南不可错过的佳肴。我们在一知半解的情况下，参加了昆明一日游。位于昆明市东南约一百二十六公里处的石林，被誉为“天下奇观”。在石林里，遍布着数百个黑色大森林一般的巨石群，有的独立成景，有的纵横交错，连成一片，石形千姿百态。虽然到了著名的石林，但也被逼参观了几间精品店及首饰店。听当地人说，原来在中国当导游是很辛苦的，有些甚至没有低薪，所以他们在途中会不停的推销该买的纪念品及首饰。

夜巴士盗窃经验
我们乘搭八个小时的夜巴士从昆明到大理。原本以为能好好的睡一觉，没想到竟在凌晨两点时被吵闹声吵醒。睡在前面的两个妇女忽然发现钱包不见了，车上的三个搭客也可疑的失踪了。我一查背包，发现已被划了一个大洞。本想这次完了，钱包肯定被扒走了。这时，警察正在巴士上找寻匪徒留下的痕迹，他从地上捡了一个小包后，问到，“这是谁的？”。我仔细一看，原来是我的化妆包，夜贼误以为那是我的钱包，从我的背包偷的。幸好，钱包在被窝旁找到，让我捏了一把冷汗。

云南-大理 ━ 遇到的“家人”
在大理，一个宿舍的司机，陈先生竟成为我们在异乡的亲人。五十一岁的陈先生十分好客，不但带我们到处游玩，还邀请我们到家里看他的爱犬，吃晚餐。也许是因为我和他的女儿年龄相近，所以他们对我十分照顾。陈先生知道我喜欢西红柿炒蛋，还特地叫太太做这道菜给我。就这样，我们在他的家里和陈太太，像家人一样，一起聊天吃饭，度过一个很温馨的晚上。夫妻两人还为那一类的男生适合我，而差一点吵起来。在大理短短的三天里能够在异乡感觉到家的温暖，跟陈家从相识到相知，也算是一种缘分。

云南-丽江
丽江古城位于中国西南部云南省的丽江纳西族自治县，始建于宋末元初（公元13世纪后期)。我很享受在丽江古城里漫步的感觉 - 穿梭在历史悠久的小巷，看着古城人民平常生活的方式与她多姿多彩的夜生活。古城好象一个大迷宫，有走不完的小巷，看不完的小商品店和餐馆。四方街是丽江古街的代表，古城的建筑历经无数朝代的洗礼，饱经沧桑，融汇了各个民族的文化特色。

桂林
从昆明到桂林须乘坐十八小时的火车。桂林自古以来就有“山水甲天下”的美誉。桂林漓江是世界上水质最好的城市内河之一。从林桂乘坐渡轮游漓江到阳朔途中的山水景色很迷人，像极了看这一副副巨型的山水画。其中一个山形，九马画山让我看左看右看，还是模不着头绪，连一匹马都看不出来。站在我身旁的一个老奶奶很轻易就把九匹马看出来，令我好惭愧。我们也划了竹筏，在如诗如画的江上飘游。

到桂林，一定要尝一尝闻名中外的桂林米粉。桂林米粉圆细而柔韧，卤汤鲜美，肉菜香而爽口，让人想了都垂涎三尺。第一次吃桂林米粉的经验十分滑稽。我们捧着粉条，看着桌上摆放着数种配料，不知所措，随意参半。大概是放了太多辣椒，我们在吃米粉时，一面吃，一面喊辣，还得跑到对街买矿泉水。虽然吃得嘴唇都快重了，但米粉实在太好吃了，让人无法自拔。

印象刘三姐山水剧场
印象刘三姐是著名导演张艺谋的精心杰作，是世界最大的山水剧场。独特的露天演出以桂林美丽的山水为表演的背景。四百名表演者传统的舞蹈演出，丽的灯光和音响效果，配上水景的倒影，让整个演出十分壮观。虽然表演和刘三姐没有很大的关联，也看不见情节，但还是让我们在视觉上大胞眼福，是值得一看的表演。

龙脊梯田
从桂林到龙胜的车程大约需两个小时。世界著名的龙脊梯田从元代就开始建造使用。层层梯田集壮丽与秀美为一体，显示出谣族人民的勤劳与智慧。在高处看龙脊梯田，能感受这“梯田世界之冠” 的恢宏气势，美丽奇特的自然风光与浓郁纯朴的民俗民情。

“天下第一长发村”长发村
“天下第一长发村”住着六十户瑶族的人民。瑶女子把自己的长发视为第二生命的传统。这些瑶族的女性头发最长的有一点六米，是世界上头发最长的女子，最短的也有一点四米。她们的头发乌黑润滑，原来是用世代相传的洗头秘方：发了酵的淘米水洗头。仔细一看，原来发中有发，她们头上盘这三把头发，第一把是十八岁成年仪式上剪的头发，第二扎则是平时拣攒来的掉发，第三把则是头上现有的头发。我们在村里，看了长发梳妆，长发舞及结婚仪式。临走时，瑶族姑娘们聚集在门口以歌声欢送我们，但万万没想他们竟掐我们的屁股来表达对我们的热情与祝福，让我们啼笑皆非。

阳朔探险记 - 龙门水岩逼“良”下泥巴浴
阳朔被誉为“天上人间旅游乡”。到阳朔，非得到月亮山与大榕树走一趟，看看它们独特的风采和尝一尝当地著名的啤酒鱼。著名的阳朔龙门水岩是个的大型地下河水晶溶洞，它没有特别灯光装饰，保持了纯天然的原始风貌。观光客须乘船入洞口，在水岩行走，有如在龙的身区里穿梭。洞长约八公里，贯穿八座大山，洞内有非常壮观的莲花宝座，天然石盆清水池，高80米的“九天瀑布” 于泥巴浴池，十分新奇。调皮的我们还买了泳衣给保守的导游， “逼” 她与我们在水岩里洗泥巴浴，玩得不易乐乎。

我们也与一群中国人一起漂流龙颈河，冲过“九天飞瀑”，跳过“千米险滩”，度过了一个十分刺激的下午。我们沿着漂流，看着满岭的翠竹林，感觉与大自然融为一体。玩起水战时，大家都即时变成的小顽童，猛攻击路过的皮舟，玩得全身湿透透，十分过瘾。

我很喜欢背包看世界，这次的中国背包行让我享受生活轨道之外的种种奇遇。

14-day adventure in China, September 2007 (Kunming, Dali, Lijiang, Guilin, Yangshuo)

2007-10-14T22:39:00.000+08:00

I've finally left the museum after working there for seven years. Before I venture into my new job, I had two-weeks' leave to clear. Another holiday before I start my new job, proper. Since I've just returned from the Middle East in April, I decided to go somewhere slightly "cheaper" and thus chose China. Philippines was my first option but the typhoons prevented the trip to be materialised. I've decided to revisit China with Juanita, a friend whom I met during one of the trekking trips in Malaysia.

The 2 weeks in China was interesting and full of little incidents and hiccups that made it all the more colourful. We went to Kunming, Lijiang, Dali, backtracked to Kunming and travelled another 18 hours on the train from Kunming to Guangxi, Guilin and Yangshuo.

In Kunming, we joined a one-day tour which brought us to the infamous Stone Forest (Shilin), but also many souvenir shops. We witnessed how our guide's face turned from cheery to complete black when none of us patronised the shops. A young monk told my fortune so accurately that I parted with my $150 for a brief prayer session to "bless"my family.

On the way from Kunming to Dali via overnight bus, we encountered a burglary in the bus. My haversack got molested, and thankfully, moneybag intact .

In Dali, our driver, Mr Li from the guesthouse turned out to be our guardian angel and his lovely wife too. We made friends with his two beloved dogs. Together, we went boat-rowing in the famous West Lake in Dali, saw the Bai tribe tea ceremony and wedding procession, trekked the famous Chang mountain, ate super-dupey nice "dou-fen" at his relative's stall,visited an island where the ladies worn traditional ethnic outfits and sold coral decorative items and windchimes for a living. The two lovely duo treated us like family and invited us home twice for a sumptuous spread of homecooked dishes, using fresh vegetables from her garden and eggs from her chicken in the yard.

Over dinner, we shared stories about our travels, how they met and fell in love and the fatherly Mr Li even bickered with his wife about the kind of guys would be good for me. It was a very heart-warming feeling to feel so at home in a foreign land .This is why I enjoy backpack travelling so much - to really get to know the people.

From mere acquaintances to friends, it only needs a sincere and open heart, the cultural differences and age barriers can easily be forgotten.

In Lijang, we soaked ourselves completely in this ancient town, enjoying every nook and corner we turned, playing with children and trailing old ladies wearing their traditional tribal outfits in the marketplace. In the evening, we sat by the river, listening to the talented musician playing his magic with his saxaphone, enjoyed a meal with the famous Lijang river roasted fish.

In Guilin, we became typical tourists, joined the local tour group to cruise the river at night and sailed down the picturesque trail, from Guilin to Yangshuo. The Ying Xiang Liu San Jie was a spectacular light show peformance by 40o dancers directed by famous China filmmaker, Zhang Yimou. Though there was little plot, the show was visually breathtaking, using the beautiful mountains and river as the backdrop for the performance.

In Yangshuo, we trekked to the famous Longji Terrace fields, a spectacular sight of the labourious work of the hardworking Chinese on the ricefields over centuries. We visited the world's first ever Long-hair Village, where ladies' heads are adorned with their three different "sets" of hair nicely combed into different styles and them, decked in colourful ethnic flair skirts and high stockings. Our backsides were pinchd as it was the customary way of the villagers hospitality to their guests.

We tasted the famous beerfish in Yangshuo and went shooting rapids with a family of our and a young Chinese couple. Together, we played like children, splashing water on all the other floats that came by our way, attacking other boats with gusto and mischef. My poor left arm got bitten by little bedbugs that left many red itchy marks. We went for body massage for S$5 an hour and 11/2 hour facial for S$35 before we headed to the train station to return to Kunming to make our way back to Singapore.

Despite the terrifying toilet experiences, China remains one of the most interesting countries I've visited, so vaste and so rich in culture and heritage.

Unforgettable Toilet Experiences

2007-10-14T22:18:00.000+08:00

I love travelling. But that's one thing that I fear most, sometimes,especially when I travel to China- the toilets, those off the beatentracks.

Toilets in China come in many permutations. I've been to Yunan, Dali, Lijiang, Shangrila, Yangshou and Kunming and each toilet experience is a truly memorable one, in a good way or bad. Here are some of the "uniquely China" toilet experiences that I've encountered that remained etched in my memory bank.

1) Breathing Life - A Maggoty, Maggoty Experience, China

The "maggotful" toilets which looked seemingly harmless from the outside, but full of "life" with moving maggots...crawling by the thousands, and i really mean thousands.

Dali 2004
The toilet was a simple cement shack, with a nice new zinc roof. Looks new, should be safe, I thought to myself. One of my traveller mates decided not to take the risk, and went for the bush instead. I took up the challenge, and walked further in. The smell was overpowering."What the heck!", i thought..pressed my nose really tight..took a very, very deep breath, as if I was going down 30 metres below sea level and walked into the toilet. As I stepped into one ofthe "partitioned" cubicles, I knew that instant moment that it was a mistake.

Sights of human poo-poo were replaced with maggots, heaps and heaps of them. To look down or not to look down- Either was a tough choice. As I looked down, I saw the crawly worms happily feastingaway..moving and threatening to inch near....Okie, I decided, Don't look...but I panicked, fearing that one of the little crawly ones might climb onto my feet without me noticing it...The sight of the whole pool of white crawly worms remained in my mind, for the next few weeks. For the next whole week, i saw them every time I close my eyes. Till today, I can clearly remember the sight...scary..indeed.

Maggots Part II, Dali 2007
I was on a boat cruise in Dali. We stopped at a little fishing island, where old tribal villagers made a living by selling fishes, coral handicrafts and tea. Nothing can be worse than the maggotful toilet that I've encountered in China years ago, I thought. As usual, I took an ultra big breath and plucked my courage to go into the toilet. As I walked in, spiderwebs greeted my face. Shit, I thought to myself...this means that very few people use this toilet. I went into one of the cubicles..and I saw "them" again..from the corner of my eyes....There were so many...heaps and thousands....i didn't even dare look down. This time, I decided. "okie, look up...and I tried to admire the wonders that the spiders have done to ceiling and the prey they caught in their web. I pressed my nose real hard...and cpntinued to lookup as I focused on what I had to do.

Within a minute, I was done with my "small" business. I stepped outof the cubicle, and to my horror, there was several maggots which had also successfully crawled up the shithole, onto the floor of the cubicle, down the steps, onto the cement floor. I scrambled out of the toilet, and swore that this toilet has to be the worst I've seen in China. The mere thought of the toilet still sends shivers down my spine. literally!

2) King of Stink!
These toilets are tucked away in the dingy corners of the souvenir shops. They are always jammed-packed with tourists. You can trace the location of the toilet by the mere"aroma",so strong you can't miss even if you're a mile away. To go in, better play safe- always fold your pants up to your kneecap and axe-oil or tiger balm is a must- best if you have a super-blocked nose.

3) Open-Door Policy & Flush-Me-Not
Toilets in the rural part of China are without doors, sometimes even without partitions. Cubicles are segregated using bare tiled walls which stand at less than a metre high.You can catch a glimpse of the person in front of you in the next cubicle but I can assure that it would not be a pleasant sight..so don't bother. In short, trust my advice, Mind Your Own Business, literally..If you can, avoid doing your "big"business.most of these toilets come without a proper flush system, and worse, no water at all..if you do it, you have to bear your own consequences, put simply, Clear Your Own Shit..

4) Choose-Your-Own-Spot
I prefer this kind of "nature" toilets. In areas where there are no toilets, we have the freedom to do our business in any spot we prefer.Under the tree, behind the rock, behind the van, next to the desert bush, amongst the shrubs..at least these are clean and you have helped to fertilize the nature. I've done them all, and trust me they are good. one word of caution, just need to make sure that your friend is a good distance from you.

5) My most stressful pee experience, Shangrila 2004
We were sitting in a small pick-up van on our way to Shangrila, on a windy mountain road. One of the ladies called the bus to a halt- nature's call. All of us got down the bus. The driver told us to go to the two sides of the road,and find our own spots. We tried to walk down the pebbled ground but the gravel made the ground slippery and impossible to walk. Our drivers and our photographer were happily smoking away at the front rear of the car. "Heck lah, let's pee at the back of the van.., no one will know.", one of my travelmates suggested. The rest agreed, and followed soon. I hesitated. Before I could pluck enough courage to do so, the rest of the ladies had completed their "business".

We still had about 3-5 hours on the road. "Okie lah,no choice, I think I better do it before my face turns green." My friend, Christine said,"Just do it and I will "jiaga" foryou."I went behind the small van and tried to relieve myself. For 5 seconds, my muscles remained tensed and contracted. Another 3 seconds, still tensed. I gave up and pulled up my pants, "Shit lah, can't do it. It's just too stressful squatting in the middle of the highway with no "shelter".

Less than as second later, I saw a huge tractor coming our way. "Heng ah, lucky I gave up," otherwise the tractor driver would have get a full view of me peeing away if I had persisted. It was a narrow shave, and the most stressful experience incident I've ever experienced.

6) Tibet Pee Experience- Peeing in the Carpark with Raining Hailstones..
My good 0ld travel mate, whose name shall remain anoynomous, A* had an interesting pee experience when we travelled to Tibet in 2005. We had to spend a night in Shigaze before we reach Lhasa. Both of us suffered from high altitude sickness, hers a lot worse than mine. The toilet was about 150 metres away, a simple cement shack.

A* was lying on bed and in the middle of the night, she exclaimed, "I really need to go and pee. how?how?". Her throbbing headache caused by the high altitude sickness, and the rain outside, made the 150 metres impossible to walk.

"Aiyah, just pee outside where the cars are parked, it's so late already, nobody will see you," I advised. A*hesitated, tried to endure for another 10-15minutes, muttering to herself, nonstop about her bursting bladder andher persistent headache, before she "buay tahan" and charged towards the door.

Five minutes later, she came back, wet, cursing and swearing about the hailstones that were pelting onto her head as she was concentrating on her "business", "Wah lao, already so difficult to pee there, then some more got stones raining down from the sky." I was lying on the bed listening to the unusual pee experience by my exasperated friend. Finally there was peace in the room as we nestled back into our beds, trying to forget our spinning heads to get a little weeny bit of sleep.

7) A Near-ghost Experience in Nepal
After a day of trekking along the Jomson trek, we checked into one of the guest house. The guesthouse was interesting decorated. The dimly lit corridor walkway had a plush carpet from one end to to other, and looked somewhat haunting. Our room was at the opposite end of thetoilet.My roommate A* wanted to go to the washroom, but was afraid ofthe dark. "Please lah, please lah, go with me to the toilet," she begged. I was lazy and refused, "Just bring your torchlight lah." A*started hopping and jumping up and down the room, in her usual exaggerated self, threatening to pee in the room if I didn't accede toher request.I compromised and agreed to wait for her to the middle ofthe walkway.

"Don't go okie, wait for me here.," she quivered, and left her torch shining my direction, casting a ghostly shadow of me. I waited for about a while, before one "angmo" traveller came up from the stairway. He seemed to be a little shocked by this "ghostly figure"with long hair standing near the stairway. He paused for a while, before he asked, " What are you doing here, in the middle of the night?" Bemused, I replied, "Don't worry, I'm not a ghost. I'm just waiting for my friend who's using the washroom coz she's afraid of the dark."

7) A Ghostly Toilet Experience in Switzerland
Accomondation in Switzerland is very expensive and being backpackers, we went for the cheapest hotel in Luzern, a small hotel up at the hilltop. The room was spacious, there was a big king-size bed and two small beds near the television. The toilet was just right outside the room. Both of us fought over who would get to sleep on the big king-size bed.I went to the toilet to shower. I had an uneasy feeling somehow, as if someone was looking at me. The hot air from the hot shower turned the mirror foggy. I had to wash my face in "parts", making sure that at least my eyes were not closed at any one time.

There was a persistent "knock, knock, knock" on my toilet door . That impatient A*again, i thought. I came out of the shower room, queried her three times. She said, she didn't. A*asked me to accompany her to the washroom. I didn't. She had a super quick shower, ran back to the room with her bare towel. There was a spooky feel in the room, but none of us spoke about it at night.

The television was left on, with a free channel showing excerpts of sex services and pornography throughout the night, to create some "sound effects" for the the hauntingly quiet room. Both of us slept in the two small side beds next to the television. The big king size bed was left untouched.

We discussed about the strange feeling the next day after we left the guesthouse. Like me, Arlina washed her face, "in parts", with her eyes open.

游牧人帐棚的那一夜- A Night With the Nomads

2007-10-14T21:15:00.002+08:00

其中一个最难忘的经验莫过于在沿着山路寻找游牧人，并在游牧人的帐棚度过的那一夜。车窗外没有高楼大厦，但有无边无祭的高山草原，走了大约三小时，才找到游牧人终迹。游牧人的妇女看到我们三个女生，非常的开心，她们的孩子们对我们十分好奇。她们频频端来茶水，西瓜，还拿出她们珍藏的服饰与金饰让我们试穿。随着播音机播放的中东音乐，妇女与小孩不禁翩翩起舞，她们一举手，一头足，玩的不亦乐呼，我们在旁也拍得十分起劲。

游牧人的帐棚是亲手用羊毛做的，能档风遮阳。帐棚内扑了鲜艳夺目的毛毯和布料，让阴暗的帐棚多了一些色彩。他们还邀请我们试试中东传统的水烟。好奇的我试了一口就猛咳嗽，再也不敢多抽一口。到了下午，十九岁的姬娜开始在帐棚外为大家预备晚餐。我们闲这没事也帮忙切菜，洗米。在暗暗的帐棚里，点着油灯跟一大群游牧人一起吃晚餐，感觉非常亲切。在这样一个封闭的环境中，人们还是非常的好客有善，令我们十分感动。

餐后，我们坐在帐棚里，面对着七八个陌生的男人，但一点都不觉得惟却。他们对新家坡有许多的好奇，问不完的问题。我们就这样，通过我们的导游，与游牧人们谈了好久。从牧羊，结婚礼俗谈到教育致度，到房屋与车子的价格，香烟的价钱等等。

伊朗-伊斯法罕- Part Two-Esfahan

2007-10-14T20:58:00.000+08:00

伊朗历史优久的建筑非常的漂亮壮观。由其建于公元前4、5世纪的历史名城伊斯法罕市(Esfahan) 的夜景，更是令人震憾。伊斯法罕市是伊朗最古老的城市之一。伊朗人民喜欢到公园，广场和河边的草地上聚在一起。要想感染当地悠闲家庭气氛，目睹那温馨的一幕，最好的方法就是傍晚到河边散步。

我们沿这河散步，看着男女老少坐在厚大的地毯上，旁边支着小茶炉，一家人一起聊天，妇女们叽叽喳喳，孩子们跑来跑去，十分歇意。伊斯法罕有四道古桥。我们也在河边乘坐了天鹅船。本以为会很浪漫，没想到在美丽的天鹅溪水背后，竟然要有三双脚不停的骑着，累得我们呱呱大叫。也是其中一个著名桥之一。在建于1602年的三十三孔桥下，又称Si-o-she Bridge，Bridge of 33 Arches) ，一个漂亮的伊朗少女主动用英语跟我们聊天。她正在上英语课程，一看到有少见的旅客，就想找人练习英文。

经过两次伊朗男士奇怪的约会后，我们决定避免与伊朗男士说话。在河边，我们主动和两个伊朗的女生，徐娜思和她的侄女“搭讪”，邀请她们跟我们一起吃晚餐。隔天，她们真的赴约，到我们的客栈找我们。徐娜思还带了会说英文的哥哥与我们见面。那天的晚餐持的非常的愉快，哥哥也很有生式风度，让我们对伊朗男人好色的想法改观。

餐后，他们还特地带我们到山上欣赏伊斯法罕谜人的夜景。我们也回到伊玛姆广场去。虽然当时天气很冷，但我们早已被他们的诚意和温情而感动，觉得十分温暖。看着迷漫的灯光把美丽的建筑和清真寺的影子投映在水面，我们不禁对伊朗的文明感到佩服。

著名的波斯波利斯古建筑群 Persepolis曾是古波斯帝国兴盛的见证，是个不可错过的历史景点。位于伊朗西南部历史文化名城设拉子东北约60公里处，2500多年前古波斯帝国全盛时期，它曾是一座金碧辉煌、雄伟壮丽的宫院。整个宫殿建筑在长450米、宽300米的石台上，其规模宏伟、气魄浩大体现了伊朗杰出的古代文明和人民的高度智慧。

我们也到了列为世界文化遗产的历史景点，包括乔加赞比尔古建筑群(Yadz)、巴姆古堡、
、乔加赞比尔古建筑群（胡泽斯坦省），也参观了一些博物馆，例如伊朗地毯博物馆。
伊朗历史优久的建筑非常的漂亮壮观。由其建于公元前4、5世纪的历史名城伊斯法罕市(Esfahan) 的夜景，更是令人震憾。伊斯法罕市是伊朗最古老的城市之一。伊朗人民喜欢到公园，广场和河边的草地上聚在一起。要想感染当地悠闲家庭气氛，目睹那温馨的一幕，最好的方法就是傍晚到河边散步。

我们也到了列为世界文化遗产的历史景点，包括乔加赞比尔古建筑群(Yadz)、巴姆古堡、乔加赞比尔古建筑群（胡泽斯坦省），也参观了一些博物馆，例如伊朗地毯博物馆。

伊朗- 第一站- First Stop in Iran

2007-10-14T20:22:00.000+08:00

伊朗是我们在中东的第一站。我们得在新加坡乘搭飞机到迪拜的多哈机场，再转机到伊朗，路途非常的遥远。可是，我们一抵达伊朗的首都德黑兰，所有的疲累都烟消云散。对于来自城市的三个女生来说，中东与新加坡的生活方式截然不同。

伊朗的路上虽然有交通灯，但似乎没用人理睬。伊朗人的驾驶习惯也很不好，车子开驶得很快，而且万全没有守交通规则。要过马路时千万要很小心，但在小心之于，也要“放胆”的走，因为车子很少会慢下速度。乘搭德士须先跟师机说好车费，从市中心飞机场大约要50，000 rials.

伊朗的法律规定，每一位女性都必须戴头巾，也不允许穿短裤凉鞋。旅客也不例外。伊朗妇女只有在自己的家里才可以把头巾拿下来。她们的穿着很保守。街上来来往往的妇女都披着传统的服饰或头巾。长长的黑袍，都把她们漂亮的脸孔和身躯遮掩起来。

幸好，我们在出国前，都早已做好准备，到了“小印度”那儿购买了头巾和服饰。因为从头到脚都得包的密密的，所以我们的旅行箱里，都是一些长袖上衣和裤子。刚开始时，大家的确很不习惯“包头”的日子，老是忘了出门前戴上头巾。但过了几天，我们也慢慢地容入在这习俗里，也习惯了这样的穿着方式。穿袜子又穿凉鞋，头上裹着头巾的我们像极了乡巴佬，连我们看到自己的模样都啼笑皆非。幸好没什么熟人，认得出我们三个来自新加坡的村姑。

从德黑兰乘坐火车到伊斯法罕市途中与三位当地的妇女同在一个车厢的经验也十分猾激。我们语言不通，只能以鸡同鸭讲的方式来沟通。车厢门一关，妇女们就把长袍取下，里面穿的是贴身无袖的服饰。服务生一敲门，大家又忙成一团，忙着“包头”，穿外套，穿袜子，才可以“见”人。

伊朗的货币是Rial。汇率大约是一欧元换11，000 Rials。我们顿时成了百万小富婆！不过逛街时，我们就得携带大笔大笔的钞票。付款的时候，必须找个角落，仔细地数一数钞票才能付钱。真的不是开玩笑，光是数数钞票，就得花上老半天。想到那儿旅游的朋友可得注意了。伊朗的银行系统和我们熟悉的西方致度是隔绝的。信用卡在那里完全没法使用。无知的我还带了八百元的新币，天真的以为有须时可以换成美元，但新币在伊朗根本没有银行会接受。

伊朗街边的饮食大同小异，没多大的选择。我们每天三餐都吃烤肉（我们熟悉的kebab），串肉和薄饼子或米饭。所以到那里没多久，我们就开始想念新加坡的海南鸡饭，沙爹, laksa 等等。

伊朗人的相貌真的非常的好看－高高的鼻梁，深邃的眼眶、修长的睫毛。俊男美女到处可见，小孩更是可爱极了。因为国家的封闭，所以老老少少的伊朗人民，都不免对我们这些来自亚洲的旅客感到好奇。虽然语言不通，但我们还是能通过比手画脚的方式与他们沟通，“聊天”，甚至有说有笑。我们在中东所遇到的怪事与状况连连，趣事更一罗框。

在德黑兰的第一天，我们在一个清真寺外，拍拍照，想捕捉美丽的风景。有一位商人发现到我们在拍他，便迎面走了过来，要请我们喝茶。这时，他却拿出手机，对着我们猛拍照，还乘机把手搭在亚丽娜的肩上！身旁有一位在贩卖东西的大叔大概看不惯这商人“色色”的举动，便说了一些话想替我们打报不评。商人当然很不悦，马上流露出气愤的表情。两人的声量也越来越大，引起了周围路人的注意。我们也不敢怎样，只好乖乖的坐在那里，眼看着围观的人越来越多，感觉就像马戏团的动物，不知所措。

有好几次，我们在旅游景点跟当地的小女学生们聊天时，被她们丛丛包围，要我们在她们的簿子和小字条上签名留言，顿时让我们感觉到当明星的滋味，签名签到手都麻了。

在阿炳哟呢和村 (Abyoneh Village)参观时，我们又被一群高中女生邀请享受她们摆放在毛毯上的丰盛的美食。不止如此，她们这些调皮的小女生还逼着要我们跳舞。这也难怪，因为社会保守，自己并不能在大庭广众跳舞，就想要我们跳舞，透过我们的肢体和她们的音乐，大概也能让她们“享受〃舞蹈，做他们一直想但有不能做的事。其他的小女生也跑了过来，个个都想要认识我们。最后，这些热情的女生们还以动人的歌声向我们道别，让我们感动不已。

我们在客栈里认识了珊尼先生。他说了一口流利的英语，还热心地邀请我们到他家与他的家人见面，吃晚餐。在还未到中东前，我曾听朋友说过伊朗人十分豪爽好客，受邀到他们的家是平常事。所以我们这一次收到当地人的邀请，并没觉得意外，反而感到特别兴奋。就这样，毫不犹豫地接受了珊尼先生的邀请。

第一次到别人家做客，当然不能两手空空的。所以，我们特地带了些我们从新加坡买来的小礼物和头巾，想要送给珊尼太太，当成见面礼，也算是回敬珊尼先生的好意。珊尼先生与我们约好七点半在客栈会面。他先把我们载到他妹妹的家。妹妹虽然对突如奇来的不宿之客有点惊讶，但还是热情宽待。她急急忙忙到厨房准备了水果花生等来招待我们。之后，珊尼先生和他十九岁的侄子又说有朋友想要跟我们见面，把我们载到一个偏远的住宅区去。

珊尼先生与我们约好七点半在客栈会面。他先把我们载到他妹妹的家。妹妹虽然对突如奇来的不宿之客有点惊讶，但还是热情宽待。她急急忙忙到厨房准备了水果花生等来招待我们。之后，珊尼先生和他十九岁的侄子又说有朋友想要跟我们见面，把我们载到一个偏远的住宅区去。

他的朋友看起来文质彬彬，家里还有一个十岁大的儿子。珊尼先生说朋友的太太到另外一个小镇去接孩子，应该在一个小时内会到家。当时已经九点半，我们也开始觉得情况有些不对劲。好不容易等到十点半，听到门铃声时，我们还以为是太太回来，晚餐也有着落了。不料，不但没看他的太太，从大门进来的竟是珊尼先生另一班朋友，全都是男性。

坐在客厅里，一排男人对着我们三个“弱女子”，大眼瞪小眼，感觉非常的奇怪。珊尼先生和他的朋友还特地播放音乐，跑到我们面前，跳了一段性感的中东舞给我们看。我们只能假装忙拍照，心怕被逼于他们跳舞。后来，看到其中一个男人随意把手放在微珍的肩上，我们极刻找了一个理由，说我们累了，请珊尼先生送我们回去。

就这样，我们带着空空的肚子，未送的礼物回到客栈，心里不免有一些“受骗”的感觉。一天内遇到两次奇怪的状况，一个是没有晚餐的约会，另一个更是一个很慌唐的要求。

我们与莫哈曼，他的叔叔，阿弥尔和他的朋友是在伊斯法罕市的小巷问路时认识的。阿弥尔和他的朋友是商人，当天刚好修假。他们非常的热心，不只把我们送到我们要去的其伊玛姆清真寺(Blue Mosque) 和伊玛姆广场，还坚持替我们付入门费，陪着我们到处游逛。参观了著名的景点后，他们还邀请我们到当地的传统餐厅吃午餐。

餐后，他们又请我们到阿弥尔的居缩去。我们坐在宽畅，铺满了毛毯的客厅里，和新交的朋友无所不谈。悠闲的下午不料被一个突如奇来，十分慌谬的要求给破坏。当我们聊的正起劲时，莫哈曼忽然说有些问题想问我，叫我跟他到睡房去。“我的叔叔想要包包你和亲亲你，可以嘛？”我被问这么奇怪的问题时，感到很惊讶，也不晓得要如何回复，只好说，“No, no, Chinese and Muslim same same. cannot.sorry”,他又说，“But why? You are in Iran！" 我只好随意撒了个谎，"Boyfriend in Singapore . not happy. cannot cannot." 在伊斯兰教法里，女性是不可以和不是自己丈夫的男人有任何身体上的接触。我想他们这样的要求也只有在“外人”面前才敢说得出口。事后想想，我们很顺力的从他的家“逃”出来，幸好有惊无险，真的是捏了一把冷汗。

中东历险记-四月七日至五月七日- (INTRO)

2007-06-25T00:44:00.000+08:00

对许多人来说，中东是个充满危险，政治不安的地方。大多数的新加坡女生都会选择到繁疆喧哗的国家，例如香港、台湾、日本去旅游等旅游。中东大概不会是她们旅游的第一选择。

但对爱背包旅行看世界的我，中东却有一种莫明的魅力，深深的吸引我，对她有一百零一个问题，一千零一个好奇。越是看到报纸刊登关于伊朗恐怖分子及核武器的新闻，越是让我更想到神秘的中东去，看看这所谓充满着战乱的地方到底跟媒体呈现的有多大的差异。

今年的四月初，我终于实现了我的愿望。我与两位死档，微珍和亚丽娜结伴到这似曾相识即神秘又陌生的中东去看个究竟。在一个月里，我们走遍了伊朗，土耳其及叙利亚。在中东的一个月里，我们不仅结识了许多当地朋友，还看了无数的清真寺和历史景点，吃了许多的烤腌肉串。

这次的行程也让我们有机会地体会到当地老百姓的生活，遇到了非常好客、友善的中东人。虽然途中，我们也曾遭受了一些奇怪的骚扰与惊吓，冒了好几次险，庆幸的是，我们都能化险为夷，相安无事。这些小插曲确让我们这次的背包之旅，增添了一些“艳色” 和“戏剧性。

One Night Stay in Perangang , Malaysia

2007-06-10T23:49:00.000+08:00

I had initially "chio-chioed" Arlina and Christine to go Pulau Ubin on Saturday for cycling. Arlina called to ask if I wanted to go Perangang instead? We had always wanted to go to Pengarang but never got around to put our act together. Just then, Christine called to say that she couldn't go Pulau Ubin as she had to work overtime. No excuse not to go to Perangang then, I thought and called to meet Arlina at Changi jetty at 3pm.

For those who are keen to make a day trip to Perangang, the "registration" is made on the left of the Changi Jetty facing the staircase. The queue line for Pulau Ubin is on the right, nearer to the provision shop.

Stacks of passports were bundled and placed on the "registration" table who was unmanned. We asked around, and found out from the other Singaporeans and Malaysians who were in the queue that there were no boats at the jetty yet. Each bumboat can take up to 12 people. There were two other stacks of passports on the table, before ours. Arlina had placed her passport onto a new stack of passports and I followed suit.

We were happily munching chips and eating ice-cream when our tranquil peace was interrupted by an ang-mo "housefly", as I've coined him. He's about 60-70 years old, sporting a wig. Accompanying him were two Filippinas, one looked very fair-skinned and gentle, like a Vietnamese, and the other resembled a typical Thai or Indonesian prostitute, both barely reaching the man's armpit.

Prostitution and sex trade is not foreign to me. Having travelled and stayed in the red-light district in Thailand where sex-trade is the one of the key economy drivers, and sat amongst the prostitutes, seeing old ang-mos with young Asian girls is a common sight. Sometimes, I still wonder...maybe the ang-mo's wives have passed away and they are just in search of partners to keep them company during their lonesome days, maybe they think that this is their last chance to "enjoy" themselves, or maybe cheap sex is just too available to resist in Asia.

I could "smell" the cheekopeh from miles away. The two tiny women struggled to carry their luggages nearer to the "registration" counter.
The housefly began his rounds,
"Are you going to Perangang", he asked.
"Yes, Arlina and I chorused.
"Is this the boat to Perangang? Can we get to Perangang?", he asked again.
"Yes, we are also waiting for the boat to go to Perangang and there are others in the queue for the boats," we replied.
"Why are the passports lying on the table like that?, he pursued.
We got a little irritated, after his numerous rounds of asking, but still maintained our cool, "These people came before us, we are waiting to form a third group for the next boat."
"You think we can get to Perangang?", he asked.
"We are also waiting. We are not sure, but yes, we do want to get to Perangang too."
"You think we can get to Perangang? You know whether the boat is coming. How do you know if there is any boat coming. You sure we can get a boat there?", the "loh-soh" ang-mo persisted.
"We're not sure. I don't know. I'm also a tourist. I Why don't you ask the custom officers over there? Maybe they will know," Arlina pointed to the custom officer in uniform, showing her irritation by then.

I couldn't help but observed the behaviour of this ang-mo cheekopeh. The Thai-looking Filippino lady had some reservations, i think she was worried that the custom officers would question her identity. The ang-mo wrapped his arms around her, and reassured,
"No problem, you are my girlfriend, and she (the other girl) is your sister.

During the one-hour wait at the jetty, the ang-mo was as irritating as a housefly. He kept buzzing around the registration table, repeatedly asking the same questions,
"Are you the boatman?", "Is this the bus?", "Can we get to Perangang? ", to every person that he chanced upon.

The cheeko ang mo was supposed to go to Desaru tomorrow and really wanted to go there. When told about the $8 boat fare, the cheapskate ang-mo told the two girls to pay the fare themselves. He claimed that he had very little Singapore money, and most of his money were in Malaysia ringgit. The two Filippinas looked hesitant before asking, "how much?" , "Eight dollars each person,"the ang-mo said, and triumphantly added, "When we go to Malaysia, I have lots of money, and smiled.

Yucks, I was disgusted.

The fare for the one-hour boat ride to Pengerang is S$8. There is no definite schedule for the boat. Arlina chatted with a young Malay lady who was also in the queue. She suggested that we should go to Sungei Ringgit, which is about 18-20 km away from the jetty. The standard taxi fare from the jetty to Sungei Ringgit is $8.00 per person and takes about 10-15 minutes.

Many Singaporeans go to Pengarang on weekends for seafood or cycling expeditions. Some people say that Pengarang is somewhat similar Pulau Ubin and has a rustic charm.

We soon checked into a cheap hotel and soon roamed the streets, in search of lunch.Arlina had Marybrown chicken and coke for a late lunch. We strolled around the little town. A Ramly beef burger at $2 ringgit and 10 sticks of satay (chicken and beef)plus the rice cake, for $5, that's what I had for dinner. The satay stall was a make-shift one along main street.

After dinner, we strolled around the little town, saw barbers busy at work in their little salons, children running around. Arlina calls Pengarang a "cowboy" town. I prefer it to be called a quaint rustic little town though.

We checked ourselves into Let Seng Hotel,which cost 35 ringgit per night. The room was basic but clean. This was the third hotel we enquired, all the rest were all full. According to the hotel owner, there was a wedding in town and many of the relatives from Singapore came into Malaysia and booked many of the hotel rooms.

Though we did not manage to cycle or eat seafood, like what most Singaporeans usually do, it was still an interesting trip. All three batteries that I've brought were flat and I couldn't take any pictures. I willl definitely be back to take photographs of this little fishing town and have a big seafod feast!

:)
dot

Dos and Don'ts in the Middle East

2007-05-29T02:05:00.000+08:00

5 Dos and Don’ts in Middle East
Dos
1) Bring a digital camera to take photographs. It is really a good tool to break the ice and make friends.
2) "Tabao" little presents and snacks to reciprocate their generousity and kindness. Syrians are really hospitable and friendly people. You can expect to get free food and drinks at the souq and even at the little dessert shops, just by standing around and watching them. We've got free sweets, peanuts, drinks, and even a slice of soap free.
3) Bring a headscarf in your bag when you go out. It would be useful when you need to enter mosques as some mosques would require you to “cover-up”
4) Follow the flow... if you see the locals queuing for food, just follow. It's guaranteed to be good. At least our experiment did work. Try the authentic Syrian pancake- it’s pancake with cheese doused in honey. It’s especially nice when it’s piping hot. Sweet!
5) Chopsticks make wonderful gifts to the people. They are curious about the Chinese way of using chopsticks and it’s a great way to start a cultural exchange teaching them how to use the Chinese chopsticks.
6) Interact with the people and make friends, you’ll get a lot more insight into the country, the people and even crude jokes about their own country and their cultures.
7) Lie about your marital status. It’s best to tell them that you’re married, or has a boyfriend who is working in Singapore. This would help to avoid any unnecessary propositions to kiss-and-hug. Trust me!
8) If you need to use the toilets or the washrooms, ask them for the W.C. They would know how to direct you, terms like toilets and washrooms do not ring any bell.

Don’ts
1)Don’t use the Okie sign. In Singapore, it means okie, but in Iran, it means asshole and it’s very, very rude to show the Okie sign.
2)The good sign (“hao”) that we are ever so comfortable using means “Fuck You” in Iran. A great cultural shock for us as we had been using the okie sign
3)Don’t ever, ever try your luck to get your visa done at the border between Turkey and Syria. We had to wait for 12 hours and according to the staff at the border, some people had waited for 1-2 days and it was very common to do so. If you are travelling to Syria, go either by air or get your visa ready in Istanbul.

Last Night in Damascus & A Proposition for a One-Night Stand

2007-05-28T00:39:00.001+08:00

It was our last night in Damascus. WeiChean and Arlina were too lazy, too poor and tired to go out for dinner. We had joined the excursion with the local Syrian teenagers that Chef Amir had organized the day before and it was very enjoyable as we had a good taste of a typical day in the life of Syria.

We have had dinner at Admir’s restaurant before. The food was not excellent, it was too bland for the Asian palate. I decided to go to La Roche Restaurant to visit Admir, the chef for the last time as a little gesture to thank him for all his help and making the arrangements for our taxi transfer to the airport the next day. My kind intention was not reciprocated in the way I would like though, unfortunately.

Admir, according to Arlina was 38-year-old, though he looked definitely older than that. I ordered a nuts-soup, chicken-thigh with melted cheese and a strawberry juice. Despite that fact that he has been working as a chef for many years, his culinary skills are still not up to mark unfortunately. The only reason why I went to his restaurant was because that was my little way of thanking him for helping us make all the necessary arrangements for our airport transfer, the excursion yesterday and the complimentary tea in the morning.

I went to the restaurant at about 9pm and we chatted about many things. He shared his dreams of opening his own restaurants, and poured his heart about how his last girlfriend chose not to marry him because her father works in the catering business and she saw how her mom suffered, when her dad could not be with the family on special occasions and public holidays due to work. I shared about my family members, how my twin sister is a mother of two now and what he can do to help improve his business.

During the conversation, he asked me if I had a boyfriend. I let my guard down and said admitted no.
”Oh, come on, don’t tell me you’ve never experienced love before, but why?” he asked.
He gave some sound advice, about how I should open up my social circle, meet new people and keep my options open in Singapore. To me the advice he gave was very fatherly.

Then things started getting a little bit strange. Admir asked if I would like to drink some alcohol as he has some left from the excursion. I declined politely and told him that he could drink if he wanted, but he said, he wouldn’t want to drink it alone if I was not keen to drink.

He asked if I would accept his offer since it was my last night in Damascus.
”We can be together and come back tomorrow morning,” he suggested, advancing nearer to me, conveniently placing one arm at the back of my chair.
I panicked, but manage to act cool, and said, “Thank you for the offer, but no.”

“By why? come on!” he requested.

Arlina and I had been talking about preserving and protecting our chastity during our trip from all the cheekopeh Iranian men, and I had never expected this Syrian man to be like the Iranian ones.
I said, “ oh, I prefer to keep it.” Admir pointed with his index finger at me and inched closer, “Believe me, You don’t want to keep it and I don’t want to keep it.” He obviously did not understand what I meant.

“Sorry no, I’m leaving tomorrow, I said.”, I said in a somewhat cool manner but my mind was scrambling for an excuse to get out of his restaurant.
“Come on, next month, I will be very busy and you will be very busy. Tonight is the best chance for you and me. He gave a very intense stare and I looked away, pretending to be busy with my camera. I need it and I think you need it too,” I didn’t dare look at him in the eyes but I knew he was looking for an answer from me. “No thank you, I am a conservative girl,” I said,and pretended to be very busy.
I started to side-track to many irrelevant topics, showing him photographs of other restaurants in Turkey and photographs of all the food items I’ve taken during my trip.

Thankfully, a new customer came in to order his meal. I seized the chance to pack my notes, my camera and made my quick escape out from the restaurant, when he was in the midst of talking to his customer.
“You leaving now?”
“Yes, yes, I have many things to pack in the room and it’s getting late. The girls are waiting for me. We’re leaving tomorrow and I still have many things to pack.”
He made his last attempt once more.

“Okay, you pack your bag, then you come back here. We will come back tomorrow morning.”

“No thank you, thank you and see you tomorrow morning, I said as I trailed away back to the hotel, feeling cheated of my kind intentions.

Syrians are very hospitable but the overall experience was slightly marred by this incident. Arlina said I was asking for it, as I had gone to the restaurant on my own, without the girls. Weichean said that he might have misunderstood my dinner visit to mean that I was interested in him. My conclusion and the takeaway lesson from this experience: Never reveal your single identity to the foreign men, just lie to play safe. And don’t be too friendly to the men, sometimes the men just don’t see it as genuine friendship but as a special invitation.

A Day Excursion to the Waterfall & Farm in Hama, Damascus, 4th May 2007

2007-05-28T00:03:00.000+08:00

After a whole day of shopping at the souq in Damascus, we tried to get a travel agency to arrange a day trip out of Damascus, but were told that as it was the low season, it would not be easy to do so. We went to a few agencies but our attempts were futile.

Just when our hopes were fast vanishing, we went into this nearby restaurant, just 5-minute walk away from our guest-house. The owner, Admir told us that he had a group of Iranian students who were going for a excursion to the nearby waterfall and farm the very next day and asked if we were keen to go along. Each person had to pay 900 Syrian pounds, about US$20, inclusive of the transport, breakfast and lunch. We were more than happy to join the tour as we were just pondering about what to do with ourselves the next day.

After a month of sight-seeing, it was really good to get this opportunity to immerse ourselves into a typical day of the Syrian people. The excursion showed us the simple fun that Syrian people enjoy and their leisure activities. There were a total of 35 people, most of the participants were between 19-26 years old, and this excursion was organized to allow them to get to know more people, a little like our SDU in Singapore. It was fun just watching the dynamics of the different clichés, and observing the moves that the Iranian men made to the pretty French gal who was working in the French embassy.

After a 3-hour bus ride, we finally reached the waterfall. It was very interesting strolling around the waterfall and watching the varied activities of the Syrian people. Many families were relaxing on their picnic mats, with home-cooked food and nan (bread). In the same stream, sights of children playing of the water, a family washing their rice and fruits along the riverbank, and another family washing their dishes. Along the riverbank, young Iranian teenagers smoking shisha (waterpipes), another group happily dancing in sync with the with loud Middle-eastern music blasting from the speakers they brought from home. I was invited to drink a cup of chay (tea) from a three-generation family who was enjoying a picnic and took shots of their lovely grandchildren who were more than happy to pose their candid smiles for my camera. Arlina, Wei Chean and I helped Chef Admir to prepare lunch, cutting the bread into halves, spreading butter and jam over the bread and cooking the sausages over the barbecue-fire. Breakfast was served at close to noon and we were starved by then.

The next stop was the farm, which was another 2-hour drive from the waterfall. There was nothing much to do for us at the farm, besides a quick tour of the farm to look at the new facilities and the ducks and geese they kept. We lazed around in the Bedouin-tent and talked to some of the participants of the excursion. There was a 26-year-old lawyer who spoke very good English. He was one of those who were carrying a torch for the French gal and we could see sparks flying though it was the first time they met. Together, we chatted from topics like things we like about Syria, housing in Singapore, Indonesia maids, bomohs to gay and lesbian relationships in Singapore. When Wei Chean told him that Singapore in the capital for gay activities in Southeast Asia, he was shocked, and we bemused. The friendly Syrians also taught us how to play an interesting card game using just Jacks, Queens, Kings and As. It was a test of our alertness and was really enjoyable and fun. Thankfully, there was a Syrian guy who was very slow in his reflexes and I managed to clear my cards before him.

Lunch was served at 6.30pm and our stomachs were growling by then. It was a sumptuous spread of salads, chicken and jacket potatoes. However, having lunch at 6.30pm was a little strange for our Singaporean stomachs. After dinner, everyone was just relaxing in the Bedouin tent. Some of the Syrian teenagers decided to dance and soon, there were about 8 of them dancing to the music. The dance steps were very interesting, like a cross between tap-dancing and Middle-Eastern dancing. We were happily nestled on the sofa set, admiring the skilful dance moves of these youngsters. Chef Admir came out with two huge plates of desserts, bite-sized muffins coated with chocolate sauce and sliced pineapples and they were completely wiped out in no time.

Aleppo, Syria

2007-05-27T23:41:00.000+08:00

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Of Souq, Karfels and Free Snacks and Heaps & Heaps of Generousity

A week in Syria in Aleppo and Damascus was short, but the Syrian people have touched our hearts deeply through their little gestures and generousity. Their genuine warmth and smiles made Syria one of the friendliest countries that I’ve ever visited, far more so than Iran.

As we walked along the streets, people smiled and said, Al-sarmal-lay-comb-Welcome! They may not speak English at all but the English term, Welcome, seemed engrained into their minds, even the old shopowner who didn’t utter a word of English.

Syrian people are dessert and pastry-lovers. There are many small bakeries and shops selling the authentic desserts and snacks. On our second day, we were attracted by the delicious spread of snacks nicely displayed in the shopfront. Unable to resist the temptation, we went into the shop to buy a few snacks to whet our appetite. We chose about five snacks and went to the counter to pay for our selection. The shop attendant placed the snacks into a nice box, and to our pleasant surprise, they said, “No, Free!” We were thankful and went out of the shop, with a “melting-heart”. “The people are so nice, can die, make my heart melt” we chorused.

On the same day, we went to the largest souq in Aleppo and had some very interesting conversations with some of the shop owners there. We were offered free bread when we stood by the side to watch them prepare the bread, Weichean was given a small slice of soap by a passer-by. I was offered nuts by the shop-owner at the tailor shop while Weichean and Arlina were busy bargaining for cheaper buys. Maybe it was because it was rare to see three Asian gals travelling in Syria on their own, but the hospitality was heartfelt.

Making Friends at the Souq in Aleppo, Syria
We were in the souq talking to a bunch of young shop owners who were relatives. They have about 17 shops in the souq, all selling carpets, scarves and jewelleries. It was really fun talking to them, hear them “bitch” and bicker with one another. One of them even had a Singaporean boyfriend previously.
I was talking to the gay shopowner when his “gaydar” sensed an attractive foreigner walking passed the shop, eating his kebab and became completely distracted. He stood up from his seat, and said, “In my next life, I wished I’m the sandwich.”
I laughed, and his brother said, “You see, my brother is gay. Very obvious. And I’m straight.”

“Not for long, retorted the brother, as he puffed the smoke from his shisha casually.

One of them, the youngest 19-year-old, was totally infatuated with Wei Chean, “She’s so beautiful, so fucking beautiful.” “She’s too old for you, I told him jokingly.” “Missus, age does not matter, size does. If I love somebody, I will plan for our future.”

Arlina and Her Mistaken Identity
Arlina could possibly be a closet lesbian. At least the Syrian men in both Aleppo and Damascus thought so.
"You are gay. I can see it through your eyes,” said one of the cousins at the shop further down the stretch of shophouses. Arlina tried very hard to change this mistaken identity but without much success, even when she said, “I like boys! I like boys very much.” He refused to believe her and insisted that Arlina should meet his girlfriend who is bisexual. “I show you photographs of her.” Within seconds, he came back with photographs of his girlfriend and asked Arlina if she fancied her. “But I like boys, girls no feeling,” she stressed.
He remained convinced that Arlina was gay.

Just then, another of the cousin came, and he said, “My sister was normal before she met this girl. Once you meet her and you let her touch you, you will change.” The situation was so absurd I couldn’t stop laughing.
“Okay, you give her 15 minutes. Just meet her for a while, I will call her on the phone now, you talk to her, and chucked the phone to Arlina. Arlina sulked and refused.

“Today after work, we go for a party. I will get her to come, and with us, we go for a party, okie?” I knew where and what he was talking about. These private parties can turn out to be rendezvous parties for the young Syrians and sex would probably be somewhere in the agenda. I quickly said something casually, “Oh, we have to go to the mosque later today.”

“I asked you to join us for a party and you said you want to go mosque,” He signed and said. My answer to his question was way out-of-context, but we quickly made our exit before things became dodgy.

Four days later, the 26-year-old lawyer we met in Damascus during the day trip excursion at the waterfall said the exact same things about Arlina interestingly. “Yes, I think you’re gay. Because I can see it in your eyes.” Arlina was hopping mad and insisted to know why. “Maybe not now, but definitely five years from now, he said, with much conviction”. That left Arlina speechless, and me, the bystander, bemused. But one thing for sure, I know my old pal long enough to know that she is perfectly straight, and perhaps for “cheeko” than any of the “cheekopehs” we have met along the way.

My First Hammam Experience in Turkey

2007-05-27T23:25:00.001+08:00

Getting Scrubbed by an old Turkish Man and Experiencing the Hammam in True Turkish style

Getting myself, scrubbed and foamed and massaged by an old Turkish man in the hammam, with my guide next to me, was a somewhat embarrassing yet unforgettable experience.

Arlina and Weichean had their first taste of Turkish bath in Istanbul. I gave it a miss because of the untimely “auntie’s visit”. My final chance came when we were in Cappadocia. On the last day in Cappadonia, I decided to sign up for the Turkish bath on my own since the cave hotel had no heaters and I had yet to try the traditional Turkish bath.

After dinner, I roamed the streets in search of my Turkish bath. Most of the agencies I approached were unable to arrange the bath session as I was the only participant. I walked up and down the streets and finally managed to book my Turkish bath at Cappadocia Tours, with the help of the owner, Ertan, who was willing to bring me to an authentic Turkish bathhouse, which is about 12km away from Cappadocia, Finally, I thought and I agreed instantly.

“The massage will be done by women right?,” I asked, almost innocently. “No, by men,” he said. “Really? I was shocked, having second thoughts of going to the bathhouse.

“Come on, you are in Turkey. Think about it, the family has been doing the hammam business for many generations. Many Turkish people, women, children and men go there. Don’t worry,” Er-tan reassured me.

“What the heck, do what the Romans do, and now that I’m in Turkey, follow what the Turkish people do”, I thought to myself. “Okay”, I said, “I’ll trust you,” I confided in Ertan and he smiled and nodded, “Thank you, don’t worry, no problem.” I paid the 35 Liras, about S$50 and arranged for him to meet me at 8.15pm at the Nomads Cave Hotel.

I took a slow walk back to the Cappadocia Cave Hotel and went back to the room to get my toiletries. “Hahahaa…somebody is going to pay money to get molested again,” jested Arlina when I told her about the male masseur. “If I don’t come back in one hour, please remember that I’ve arranged for the hammam bath at the Cappadocia Tours,” these were my last words to the gals.

Ertan was 26 years old and he shared his plans to go on a six-month backpacking trip in Southeast Asia, including Thailand, Cambodia, Malaysia and Singapore end this year. I told him about my travel experiences in these countries and told him the taboos in some of these countries, what to look out for, the nice sights to see and all I knew about these places.

We soon reached the hammam. When we first entered the hammam, I was a little hesitant. There were two men, one in his late thirties and another in his sixties and a teenage boy. I was given a checked-cloth to change in, and was directed to one of the changing rooms. Once I came out of the room, the old man locked the changing room, and tied the key to my right wrist.

He brought me to another room, the main hammam room, where there was a small wooden sauna room, a big marble slab/table in the centre, and two rows of taps at the side. There were three men in the room, they took a quick glance at me and continued with their bath activities. I sat next to the taps and doused myself with hot and cold water. Ertan followed shortly. “You can also go into the sauna, just knock on the window if it’s too hot for you,” he said. There were two other teenage boys in the sauna room when I entered. The room was hot but bearable. I stayed there for about 10 minutes before I coming out to pour hot and cold water onto myself. The marble slab in the centre of the room looked very tempting, should I try and experience and lie down there with the rest of the people, or should I just skip it? I had a mental debate and decided that I should lie there just to feel how it was like. The marble floor was surprisingly warm and comfortable. I lied there for a while, counting the number of holes on the top, and breathing in the hot air in the hammam.

Soon, the thirty-something year old hammam staff beckoned me to go to the next room. It was a relatively small room, with the marble slabs on each side of the wall. One Turkish man was having himself foamed and massaged by the old Turkish man. Ertan was very nice, he stood outside the room, and reassured me that he would be waiting for me outside. Within a minute, he got sick of waiting outside, and sat next to me, watching as the man scrubbed the grim and dirt from my body. “I should have a camera here to take photographs”, he joked. “No, I will not allow it, no way,” I retorted, with some embarrassment. After about 10 minutes of scrubbing, which was not as hard as I thought it would be, I was asked to go to the next table, where the old Turkish man was waiting.

I was asked to lie facing downwards as he lathered soup onto my body. It was a hard-to-describe feeling having an old man, a complete stranger, massaging soap onto your body. I kept my eyes open at first and I was confronted with the big bulging stomach of the old Turkish man and his bushy underarms. It was strange to see face-to-face with the Turkish man, looking down at me, with his armpit hair revealed. I tried closing my eyes, but felt a sense of insecurity, thus I decided to keep my eyes open. When he was done with my back, I was asked to turn to the front. I must say that they are very professional. He only “covered” the areas that were exposed and did not attempt to touch the “out-of-bounds” areas at all, and I was thankful for that. So, I decided to close my eyes. The session was soon over and I was asked to go back to the hammam room to take a shower. I went back to the hammam room but couldn’t find the shower room. I decided to just alternate the hot and cold water from the running taps as my shower.

It was a refreshing and a different experience indeed, but I wished they had added more strength and force when they scrubbed and massaged, like the way they treated the Turkish people. Personally, I thought 35 Liras which is approximately about 50 SD dollars, is a pricey price to pay though. I went back to my guest-house, feeling cleansed and ready for a good night’s sleep. Thankfully, I did not have to “combat” the icy water in the Nomads guesthouse that night.

Cappadocia, Turkey

2007-05-27T21:26:00.000+08:00

- Of Huge Penises, Underground City, Horse-Riding in the Valleys and My First Hammam Experience

The Nomad Cave Hotel is housed in one of the traditional “pigeon-holes”, stone formations formed by the volcanic ashes. The room is literally "carved" from these formations. It was low season and Cappadocia was relatively tranquil and quiet. The room was comfortable, but the only problem was that there was no heater in the room and no hot water in the shower.

Cappadocia was reputedly one of the best places in the world to take the hot-air balloon, but a 45-minute ride costs 125 Euro pounds, which is equivalent to 400 Singapore dollars. We decided to skip the experience and opt for horse-riding in the valleys instead.

Horse-riding through the valleys

The one-hour horse-riding session through the Rose Valley and some other valleys cost about 20 Turkish dollars and was an interesting experience. My first horse-riding experience was in Australia about seven years ago but this was a different experience. In the short one-hour ride, we’ve learnt many things about these horses.

My horse, Anika was a very lazy one, who was always in search of green pasture to graze. She didn’t mind being the last in the group, as long as she got her greens. Flowers were equally acceptable to her. Pulling the leather straps to nudge her had absolutely no impact when she was enjoying her grass as she would not budge an inch, not even a milli-inch. I've tried "counselling" Anika in English, in Singlish and "sayang" her mane, and thankfully it worked a little.

Wei Chean’s horse was very obedient to the master of the stallion and would follow him wherever he went. But the Salem-horse lookalike would go berserk at times and strike a 45-degree up-slope gallop pose when he felt like it. That was scary, even just looking at the horse perform his stunts. Thankfully, Weichean managed to maintain her balance on the horse.

Arlina’s “bat-man” horse was quite hard to manage at first, but Arlina soon found a special way to “communicate” with “bat-man” with her (ah-ah) meaning yes, and (osh-osh), meaning no. She managed to cruise through the valley with ease, through her constant ah-ahs and osh-oshs and her usual song-rattling and that amused our guide so much that when we returned to return the horses, he praised Arlina for “singing very good.”

North Tour
Goreme Open-Air Museum, Causin Old Village, Fairy Chimneys, Cappadocia Wine Factory, Penispolis Valley

“I’m going to bring you girls to see the largest penises in the world”, said Max, our guide. Max has been a guide for many years. It was our first day tour in Cappadocia and we were brought the UNESCO-known sight, Goreme, We also tasted some of the wines that were made in Cappadocia in the wine factory as part of the tour, visited the Open-Air Museum and the Fairy Chimneys and other sights.

Our guide, Max, decided to give us a steal for our money and brought us to Penispolis, where the sandstone formations looked very much like huge penises. It was a slow stroll but theview from Penispolis was quite awesome. One of the young cheeky Aussie even “posed” with his new-found “confidence-stick” as his girlfriend shook her head and smiled.

Max said, “I probably enjoy the tour more than you do,” as he showed us all the interesting stone formations in Cappadonia and shared stories about a beautiful Turkish girl who ran away on her first day of her marriage and became a hermit. Nobody knew why she ran away and she remained very much a mystery to many Turkish people.

South-Tour
Rose Valley Hiking, Underground City, Pigeon Valleys
The one and a half hour trek at the Rose Valley was a very pleasant one. We had lunch at the same venue, near the Goreme, a wonderful spread of salad, tomato soup with macaroni and pottery beef stew. The Underground City was my personal favourite. It was amazing to see how advanced the people were in the old days, to see how the secret dungeons were all internally linked to other tunnels within the city. There were special partitions for stables, for cooking, for storage of water, a well and a very good air ventilation system. Within the Underground City, there was even a church for the people to do their prayers. So how did the people “do their business”, I asked out of pure curiousity. Our guide said that there were no toilets within the Underground City and people who dispose their “waste materials” outside of the city. It would take loads and loads of civic consciousness and heavy fines to keep the Underground City clean and waste-free, if it was used in today’s society, I thought to myself.

Doors were made of concrete stone carved into circular shapes, like the “rolling” doors. Each door weighed a hefty 400 kilograms and when the enemies neared, the residents of the Underground City would just shut the stone doors to block the invasion of the intruders. According to Max, there were as many as 7000 people living in the Underground City at one period.

The engineering that went behind the creation of the Underground City was simply amazing, considering that the Underground City was constructed more than 4000 years ago,

These tunnels were only discovered by farmers in 1995 and excavated by archaeologists shortly after. It must have been a really exciting excavation for the archaeologists to discover this complete underground city. It was also during these two tours, South and North tour that we befriended 32-year-old Seiko, from Kyoto who was travelling in Turkey on her own. She was a small, petite lady, but a feisty and adventurous one. Though small in build, she has been to the United States and even India on her own last year.

Olympus, Turkey

2007-05-27T03:16:00.001+08:00

-Of Treehouses, the Meditteranean Sea and Unexplored Ruins

Olympus is a great place for outdoor activities such as kayaking, canoeing and rock-climbing. Too bad we were there during the low season.

The two nights we spent in the Kadir’s Tree Houses were super comfy. The mattresses were very good and the comforter ultra plush. We had the choice to sleep in a shared dormitory treehouse, or a bungalow next to the treehouse with attached bathroom. Having travelled for many hours, we opted for comfort over the authentic treehouse.

We decided to just chill out and relax in Olympus since the Mediterranean sea and explore the ruins were just a few kilometres down the road.

The next morning, we strolled to the Mediterranean Sea and the sea view was awesome. Wei Chean and I climbed to the top of a cliff and were rewarded with a breathtaking view of the Mediteranean sea. We left Arlina mid-way as her height-phobia prevented her from climbing further.

Many tourists were happily relaxing and sun-tanning themselves along the coast. Wei Chean and I were busy admiring the interestingly-shaped pebbles. I chose some really pretty stones, as a little gift for my supervisor, Lena who had graciously approved my one-month leave and covered my duties during my absence.

The Meditterranean sea was breathtakingly stunning, we picked stones, played in the clear blue water and explored the nearby ruins which reveal the civilizations way before our times.

There, we met a shopowner who had retired from Tirestone after working there for 25 years and decided opened a little shop selling his specially made jewelleries and his wife's clay items. The shop was a simple shack, with bamboo curtains, basic but nice. He could speak simple English. One of the necklaces caught my eye, it was a slice of dried lemon, with some luminous colouring. I hesitated, thinking I could buy it the next day if I really wanted it. Too bad, I've "missed the boat" though. I went to his shop which was just around the corner three times the next day to be greeted by closed curtains.

We also met a Malaysian gal and her Australian husband who had just been to Cappadocia. They had taken the hot-air balloon in Cappadocia and said that though it was expensive, it was worth the money. I was more interested in parasailing or paragliding but it was equally expensive. We decided that we would find other more economical ways of entertaining ourselves.

Lazing around at Kadir’s Tree Houses was equally enjoyable. Hearing the knocking and drilling sounds, the happy whistling of the workers, while sipping tea amidst the Persian cushions and carpets in the wooden shed is blissful.

Turkey, Istanbul- Kite-flying with Chisen and Dad

2007-05-27T02:29:00.000+08:00

Kite-Flying at Istabul- The bond between a doting father and his sweet daughter
Nobody would have planned this into the itinerary, but I had my first experience of flying a kite in Istanbul by chance. We got tired of the touristy Grand Bazaar and decided to take a slow stroll along the waterfront in the morning.

It was very tranquil and nice just enjoying the sea breeze and taking a relaxed walk away from the tourists. I spotted two persons sitting amongst the rocks. The father beckoned me to go over and join him and his daughter who were flying a kite. Without hesitation, I hopped across the rocky stones to where they were seated, and took over the string and the kite. Watching the little green kite soar in the air, I tried to make small talk to the father and daughter duo who couldn’t speak English.

Wei Chean and Arlina soon joined me in the “charade” game again. We managed to get their names, Osman (the father) and Lisen (the daughter). Lisen was a friendly yet shy little girl. When I tried to speak to her in English, she smiled and said in an almost adult manner, “Turkish yes, English no.” And when she spoke to me in Turkish, I said, “English, yes, Turkish no.” Though language was a barrier, her shyness soon eased off. As we were walking along the waterfront, little Lisen was so sweet, she plucked a little flower and placed it on my ear.

I was trying to tell him that eating in Istanbul was expensive through simple English and hand gestures. He might have understood, and walked us to the well-known fish market where there are numerous fish restaurants. We were quite broke and did not want to go to any expensive restaurants for lunch. In the end, we suggested having lunch at a roadside kebab stall which costed less than 5 dollars per person. The lunch was not a luxurious one, but a very heartwarming one. Through the little gestures of the father and little Lisen, we could feel the strong bond and love between them.

After lunch, we continued to walk further to one of the must-see attraction in Istanbul and Lisen continued her kite-flying attempts with her dad at the big square just outside the university building. Osman is a single parent. Two of Osman’s friends came to meet us and drove us to another popular sight to see famous tombs. They even offered to send us back but we turned down their kind offer and told them that could make our way to the guest-house ourselves. We bade farewell and promised that we would email the photographs to them.

Though we did not see any important sights or attraction, the few hours with Lisen and her father was very well-spent and memorable. From complete strangers to acquaintances, we were glad that we made friends with little Chisen and her dad, and of course, the little green kite.

Turkey (Istanbul, Olympus, Cappadonia)

2007-05-27T01:23:00.000+08:00

Of tulips, sandstones sights, tulip cups, apple tea and one cool chick!

Coming from Iran into Turkey, we suffered from a slight cultural shock on the first
day when we arrived at the airport, like country bumpkins on a virgin trip to the modern city. Everything seemed so advanced and modern in Istanbul compared to the inward-looking Iran.

Women without their headscarves, big signboards shouting international brands and rows and rows of beautiful tulips lined the streets in Istanbul. These were some of the common sights in Istanbul, but sights that you can never see in Iran.

In Iran, most women are either completely clothed in the chadors (a black cloth that covers them from head to toes), or at least their heads would be covered with black scarves. . At the airport toilet, we saw some sexy Iranian women letting their hair down, literally, and boy, they look gorgeous. Having “tudungfied” ourselves for the last two weeks in Iran, it was exhilarating to know that we did not have to “take cover” behind the scarves in modern Turkey.

One Cool Chick- Lilian Moro, 38 years old biker on a 3-year bike expedition around the world

We met the coolest babe, a 38-year-old biker from Switzerland at the Orient Hostel. She is a window display decorator and had quit her job for this trip. She has been travelling to many parts of the world, including China, India, Middle East and many many little-known places on her bike over the years.

She was on her three-year bike expedition around the world, starting from Turkey. She had saved for about 5 years for this trip, working part-time and saving all the money and was waiting for her 62-year-old dad, who was on his way from Switzerland to be the pillion rider on her bike for a month. It was amazing to hear about all the arrangements and planning she had to do, getting horse carriages in Pakistan to carry her bike from the border to another part, having to dismantle her bike into different parts to clear the custom, and assembling them back.

Lilian had heaps of interesting stories to tell and is a really nice and down-to-earth gal. Her infectious laughter, which often ends with a snort is very endearing. We liked her the moment we met and chatted with her for a while and I think she enjoyed our company too. We chatted for hours about the toilets in China, the men in Iran, the headless chicken she axed which still managed to run quite a far distance and many others.

She also related one incident when she caught her mom dancing in a frenzy manner in the middle of a field in India, to protect herself from the vultures which were looming above her head to show that she was still alive. She also worked as a diver’s guide and told us about how one of the people she brought into the ocean missed the wonderful view of the shark which was within was 2-metres from him when he was distracted by Lilian’s action of taking out her survival. knife.

We've met many interesting characters in Turkey.

Mr "Of Course"
Mr "Of Course", a Kurdistan restaurant owner who could speak Mandarin as he used to have a Taiwanese wife. He's 38 years old and has a family business. Besides the restaurant, the family also have a hotel that is within walking distance. Mr "Of Course" caught my attention as he spoke fluent Mandarin. I was roaming along the streets while waiting for Arlina and Weichean who had gone for their "virgin" Turkish bath and massage.

Mr "Of Course" has very outstanding features and his restaurant had a good spread of Turkish dishes which was very tantalizing. After Weichean and Arlina's massage, we went to his resturant for dinner.

Mr "Of Course" came over to our table to chat with us and we invited him to join us. He had worked in Singapore for many years as a chef in Hilton Hotel. Mr "Of Course" had very strong opinions of everything, some not so politically correct, but nonetheless, entertaining. We were like little girls asking for his comments about people for entertainment sake.

"Turkish women- very lazy.
How about Malay people?, we quipped.
"Malay people, always Al sal malai come, but they don't buy or eat. They always cook and eat at home."
"Iran people, they know nothing about Muslim faith. Believe me.no good."
"How about Kurdistan people?" We told him about the cute Kurdistan baby and the handsome children we met in Tehran. Kurdistan people very good-looking.
"Of course, he said." "Our bodies are perfect," he added, as a matter-of-factly.
Mr Of Course told us stories about his little rendezvous fling at the airport and the gay attempts he encountered. "Me talk, "don't disturb, go away. I looking girl".
Fidelity somehow seems to be non-existent in Middle East. Often, we hear stories from the Iranian men about their "girlfriends", that it's good to have more girlfriends.

"Gonzales" Father
Gonzales is the name of the popular Garfield in Istabul. I can't recall the name of the owner now, but he owned a little shop that sells trinkets and clothing in Istabul. He was very friendly and spoke good English, and best of all, not "cheekopeh". We chatted for a while and found him to be very comical and animated.

Though I'm a cat-phobic, I can't help but feel bemused by his love for his pet through the numerous stories he shared about his cat. Asked how he got Gonzales, he grinned cheekily and said that he had actually "stolen" Gonzales from his neighbour as he found Gonzales very cute. His neighbour had even asked him whether he had seen the lost kitten but he feigned ignorance. His neighbour soon found out and took Baby Gonzales back, but Gonzales would always come running back to his shop. Every time his neighhour brought him back to his shop, Gonzales would be back in the "cat thief"'s shop in no time.

"Gonzales is now very old and lazy, nobody wants him," he told us about his "son" affectionately> He told us how he accidentally "burnt" Gonzales when he tried to give him a shower. Cats normally howl when they are forced to shower,as they don't like water. He thought that the howl that Gonzales made was "normal", only to realise that Gonzales was howling because of temperature of the water. There were many stories about his beloved cat that he shared with us, from how he had to rush him to the doctor for his injured paw, how Gonzales had many girlfriends in the neighbourhood,to the "cat party" with many jumping cats in his shop on an evening that he chanced upon, and Gonzales' first girlfren which died when she was pregnant amongst others.

Gonzales' dad is currently studying in University and laughed when he told us that he had spent almost 8 years in university as he kept failing. He wanted to come to Singapore to study,but lamented that Singapore only wants the very intelligent students and he only had Ds and Cs to flaunt. His "niceness" and warmth was very easily felt and we were completely at ease with him. He also had some vintage dresses and tops, some of which were altered by his sister. Wei Chean ended up buying one of the ethnic tops from his shop at about S$50.

Ocean Seven Restaurant
We had intitally thought that Ocean Seven was a pun on Ocean Eleven, but it turned out otherwise. Ocean Seven, interestingly, is owned by seven brothers, whom all sported long hair. According to the youngest of the seven, his mom loved them having long hair as she had no daughters and made all the boys grow long hair so that she can comb and tie their hair for them. Eating in Istanbul was heavenly compared to Iran. Their dishes at Ocean Seven were very delicious and we had a very enjoyable meal there.

Singapore Passport - Tak Boleh! Getting Stuck at the Border Between Turkey and Syria

2007-05-23T01:16:00.000+08:00

I know how it feels to be in detention- it’s ultra-boring, and worse, when you do not know when you will released. I had my first taste of this at the border between Turkey and Syria.

We arrived at the border station at 12 noon, with our heavy backpacks, and our specially taken “tudung-covered” photographs, ready to cross overland from Turkey and Syria, for our final leg of our trip.

It was indicated in the Lonely Planet that for countries which do not have a Syrian embassy, the visa can be made at the border. Alternatively, the visa can be made in Istabul at the Syrian embassy but it was closed during the weekend when we were in Turkey.

We were asked to go into the office to meet the officer-in-charge. He understood little English, but there were a few staff who could speak some English.
“Which country you from?,” asked one of the border officer.
“Sing-gar-pool”, we replied. He scoured through his list of countries in Arabic language, and frowned.
Sing-gar-pool”, he repeated. Maybe it was the wrong pronounciation. We tried again, “Singa-fura”. Still, he frowned. More officers came into the room, and others curiously peered into the office. We were once again, surrounded by the group of men strangers, but this time round, in a completely different setting.

One of the officers explained that they would send our details to the capital, Damascus and would need to get a reply fax from them before they can approve our visa. “So how long, do we have to wait here? One hour, two hours?”, we asked. “Maybe, by 11pm, maybe tomorrow, maybe maybe, it depends,” replied the officer as a matter-of-factly. We were told to check with the office every hour on the status of our fax.

Wei Chean managed to get her visa with her Malaysian passport within the two hours of waiting. Malaysia is a Muslim country and Mahadir had visited Syrian about three years ago. I think it’s high time we alert Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Minister George Yeo to go shake hands with the Syrian government.

”It would probably take a few hours, at most,” I thought to myself. During the first three hours of waiting, Wei Chean, Arlina and myself were still joking with one another, went shopping at the duty-free shop and chatted with curious drivers from Kuwait and guides from Turkey who were waiting for their tour groups.

By 3pm, the experience was not funny or refreshing anymore. It was very boring and frustrating waiting and not knowing how long more to wait. Everything was not within our control and the Singaporean passport, for once, is more a hindrance than an aid. We wished we had the Malaysia passport.

We told Weichean to make her own way to Aleppo and find a guest-house to stay and rest first. I sent Weichean off the station and bade farewell to her. “So sad, bye bye,” she pouted her lips and left.

It was a torturous and endless wait and Arlina and I were tired of entertaining ourselves. There were no internet cafes anyway in sight, no beautiful sights to see and no strangers to befriend as the night darkened. Our numerous attempts to check on the status of our return fax from Damascus remained futile. We could not even return to Turkey as the passports were kept with the custom officers.

“There is no system here. It is normal to wait. Some people wait for about two days,” said the Customer Service officer, one of the rare Syrians who could speak English fluently.

“Waiting for hours and hours for the fax,” that was scribbled on the counter at the border, probably by a foreigner visitor to Syria. My sentiments exactly I’ve walked through the border station, from left to right, front to back, listen to all the songs in my MP-three player and was still waiting. Arlina and I started talking and dreaming about going to Greece or Cyprus if we couldn’t get our visa into Syria. The mouse-eating scrubby-looking cat made frequent checks on us, and for a cat-phobic like me, it wasn’t welcomed at all.

It was around 7pm and there was still no good news. Arlina and I decided to have dinner first at the restaurant just across the road, before coming back to the station to wait again. We were the only women in the restaurant, as usual. There are several customers and workers in the restaurant. The dinner was US$4 per person, but it was a surprisingly sumptuous spread and a very pleasant surprise instead. My set-dinner came complete with freshly baked nan (bread), a bowl of piping hot beef stew, with potatoes and carrots, rice with two pieces of tender, succulent chicken pieces. Arlina’s chicken kebab set came with 5 pieces of juicy chicken parts and a bowl of fresh salad. We were happily enjoying our meals and took the chance to charge of handphones and MP3 player.

Suddenly, a Russian man walked over. His body was retching with the smell of alcohol and he wanted to invite us to his table for some drinks. We kindly rejected his offer saying it was alright as we had our own water. 15 minutes later, he made eye contact with Arlina and tried to persuade us to move to his table. We smiled and said no as we carried our backpacks and made our way back to the border station to check on our visa status.

“Aren’t they tired of seeing us, the two gals from morning to night? We must pretend to be very pathetic and cough aloud to attract their attention,” I told Arlina, and quickly started coughing louder than it was necessary as a border officer looked up. We were so bored, we started exercising and prancing around the station and used our teeth to shape the continents of the world using the nan (bread).

At 9pm, we went to the office to check on the fax again. On the way in, we met an English guide from Syria, “How are you ladies?” “Not good”, I said. “But why?, asked the guide. I told him the problem with our visa and the number of hours we’ve spent waiting at the border. He said that the station officer was a good friend of his and he can help check for us. He said that sometimes it helps if we can give for instance 5 US dollars per person to hasten the procedures as it was ridiculous to wait for so many hours.

I told Arlina that since the officers had said that they would give us a final confirmation by 11pm, I’m not willing to part with my 5 US dollars for bribery. It’s a matter of principle. If we had known that we can skip these usual procedures through bribery earlier, we would gladly oblige, but not after more than 9 hours of waiting. I would rather wait for another two more hours to see the outcome through the proper channel.

Besides our hourly checks at the officer, we had “sent” many additional representatives into the office to try and intervene. These are English guides, drivers, customers who could speak English and have approached us to chat. Maybe that had irritated the officers a little.

Finally, at 12 mid-night, we saw the light at the end of the tunnel. The border officer asked us to change US $34 for our visa and get the stamps from another station. A taxi-driver appeared from nowhere, at the counter, and said, “Syria, Aleppo?”, we said yes, and asked him how much it would cost,
US 10 dollars per person he said. That was the standard rate and we quickly said yes. Within 10 minutes, we received the visa and the pink form and made our way to Aleppo in the taxi.

It was a very interesting experience at the border station. Though it was 12 hours of our youth wasted, we had received much hospitality, well-wishes and free ride offers from complete strangers. Two Syrian drivers, with their limited English, offered to drive us to Aleppo for free, guides gave us their contact numbers to us, and told us to contact them if we encounter any problems in Syria. One Turkish driver even offered us a free ride back to Turkey.

My advice to all travellers- get your visa in Istabul, it will save you a lot of hassle at the border!

Three Iranian Jokes

2007-05-20T02:23:00.000+08:00

The below jokes are not invented by me. They are all told during the road journey to the key attractions in Yadz by our Iranian guide, complete with sound effects and actions. Enjoy!

Iranian Joke One
An Iranian woman went to the doctor. Doctor says, “ Please take off your chador and your clothes.”
She says, “But I’m shy.”
Doctor says, “ But you have to take off your clothes so that I can check your body.
Iranian woman, reluctantly says,
Alright, but can you switch off the lights?”
Doctor says, “No problem.” And the lights were off within a few seconds.S
In the pitch-dark room, the Iranian woman says, “Doctor, I have taken off all my clothes. Where should I put my clothes?”
Doctor says, “Okay, just place your clothes anywhere near to mine.

Iranian Joke Two-Iranians are so polite to each others.
An Iranian woman is pregnant. Doctor says, “Congratulations, You have twins. This are the 5 tablets that will be good for your body. Please take one on each day. The lady got impatient and decided to take all the tablets at one go, instead of one per day as requested by the doctor.

One year has passed. No baby.
Five years passed and still no baby.
The Iranian woman decided to go to the doctor for a ultra-sound scan. And in the scan, they saw two elderly wrinkled men standing at the door of the vagina, “You go first”, said the first one old man, “No, no, no, you go first, said the second. And the courtesy continues.

Iranian Joke Three- Biscuits with Milk
An Iranian man was sitting alone, frowning and looking very sad.
His friend came along and said, “Why are you unhappy? Tell me, please.”
The Iranian man said, “I want to drink fresh milk. My mother didn’t give me her milk when she was young and I really want to drink it.”
His friend said, “Don’t worry. My wife has big breasts. You can come to my house and drink her milk.
Next day, the man went to his friend’s house. The big-breasted wife was at home.
She took off her shirt and offered her breasts to the Iranian man as instructed by her husband.
The man started sucking on her left breast and enjoying the milk. The wife became aroused and started moaning, and said, “ Tell me what else you want, I can give you anything, everything.
The man went on to suck her right breast, and the woman repeated, “ Tell me what else you want, I can give you anything, everything, " in between heaving sounds.
The man replied with his eye closed, “ It would be good to have some biscuits with the milk.”

Yadz, Iran - Of Teahouses, Gorgeous Courtyards and Sun-baked Walls

2007-05-20T02:06:00.000+08:00

Yadz is a beautiful old city town complete with sun-baked tiles, a unique bazaar and little shops that sell interesting trinkets and souvenirs. Strolling around the historical town is amazing. It’s little why it’s known to be one of oldest civilizations and a UNESCO site. Some of the old houses in Yadz are stunningly spacious and beautifully decorated with ornate carvings.

There's something very rustic and romantic about Yadz and it's our favourite place in Iran.

On the first day we arrived, we were trailed by two young teenage boys. Tired of all the “cheekopeh” encounters in Iran, we decided to feign ignorance to all men and pretended that we did not see these boys. We then went into an authentic teahouse for a pot of tea (chay). The boys were hot at our heels.

Several times they tried to chat with Arlina and Weichean, but they continued to feign ignorance. Their hearts melted when one of the boys innocently asked, “Excuse me, can you please talk to us? Are Iran people very scary? I just want to practise English.”

By the time I came back from my toilet visit cum short shopping trip, Wei Chean and Arlina were already happily chatting away with these two teenage boys, Ali and Saadey.

Ali’s command of English was amazingly good by Iranian standard. He was very curious about Singapore and how to express himself in English. He was like a huge sponge, eager to absorb new information and learn new English terms. And we were of course, more than happy to share all these information and knowledge with him. We even whipped out our pens to teach them how to use the Chinese chopsticks, including his good friend, 17 year-old Saadey who stands at a towering height of 1.92cm, but couldn’t speak a word of English

”Do you have any last orders for us?,” Ali said before we parted our ways. “No, no, of course not. All the best for your studies, and you’ll better get back to your brother’s house and buy your bus tickets back to Tehran today. “Not all Iranian men are “cheekopeh” lah,” we concluded, these two young 17-year-old boys were so polite and innocent, their intention of approaching us was really just to practise English, and we had kept them an arm’s length distance for the longest time, for fear of being “cheekopehed”.

Bridging Friendships: A Lovely Date with the Esfahan Girls, Esfahan

2007-05-20T01:54:00.000+08:00

We were strolling along the Esfahan riverbank when we chanced upon two shy but friendly Esfahan girls who spoke very limited English. Tired of getting “cheated” and playing mind games with Iranian men, we decided to be friendly with Iranian girls only. Arlina said that it’s time we girls be aggressive and make the first move as we inched closer to the Iranian girls who sat next to us along the riverbank. After much gesturing and use of short, simple words, we managed to strike a date with the gals. Feeling gleefully proud of her "achievement, Arlina said, “Who says we need to be invited to people’s house, we can also invite them out for dates?” See, we have a dinner date tomorrow?”

Dinner Date Turned Strange Iranian Men-Dancing Session (Esfahan)

2007-05-20T01:35:00.000+08:00

We met Mr Sani at the Amir Kabir Guesthouse on the first day we arrived. The guest house is owned by his relative and spoke good English. He invited us to dinner with his family the next day at 8pm and said that he would be interested to know more about the Buddhist teachings after Weichean mentioned she is a Buddhist.

After the afternoon “scare” and the “hug-and-kiss” request, we thought the dinner appointment would definitely be the safe one for sure, not one of those, with “cheeko” intentions.

Happily, we took out the headscarves, toys and little presents we brought from Singapore from our backpacks, ready to give them to our new acquaintances who would be hosting dinner for us.

The evening started off quite well. Mr Sani was slightly late but he apologised profusely. He had deliberately rushed to the guesthouse in a taxi as there was a jam. Together, we took a taxi to his car, which was parked about 5 minutes away. “So nice and thoughtful of him, to rush down from work for strangers, like us,” we thought.

Mr Sani then brought us to his brother-in-law’s shop, to say hi to him, and then sprang a surprise visit to his sister’s house. Her house was very nice and posh, with plush carpets white curtains and a big garden. His sister was shocked to see guests, as she was not wearing her chador, but was very sweet and nice. Despite the impromptu visit, she gave us each a plate of mixed nuts, fresh fruits and some desserts. We liked her immediately as she seemed very nice. Her 19-year-old son was also very friendly and comical. He was huge and had big gestures. His mannerism reminded me very much of Lenin in the literature book, Of Mice and Men, the gentle giant who had no clues of his strength and murdered a woman by accident. We spent about 20 minutes in her house.

Mr Sani wanted us to dance, and cheered us on. He even pulled us from our seats, and swung Weichean and myself around with his nephew. It was strange, but we thought maybe it was the Iranian culture to dance and since there were no other strangers, we did not think much about it. Soon, Mr Sani said we had to go as his friend was waiting for us at his house. Strangely, he didn’t mention anything about his family or the dinner invitation he promised though.

We followed him in his chair and he drove a good half an hour before we saw his friend who was waiting at the roadside. We split into two cars, Arlina with the 19-year-old “Lenin, while Wei Chean and I with Mr Sani and his friend, who seemed very friendly though he couldn’t speak English.

When we reached his friend’s house, the wife was nowhere in sight. Mr Sani said that the wife went to another town to bring her daughter back and should be home in one hour’s time. It was about 9.15pm then. We sat around and ate more nuts and chatted. Mr Sani even joked and said that we can cook for them.

At 10.30pm, the doorbell rang. But it was not the wife.

In came a group of Iranian men in their mid thirties, whom Mr Sani introduced as his colleagues. Mr Sani had specially invited them to his friend’s house to dance for us as they are accordingly to him, very good dancers. They started to play Iranian music and wanted us to join in the fun of dancing. We declined profusely. Mr Sani said, “You don’t have to dance, just clap your hands.”

It was a really strange scenario. Image this, five men sitting directly opposite us, in casual poses, some with legs wide open. One fat Iranian man started prancing in front of us, doing the provocative Middle Eastern dance, twisting and bending his fat body, but I must admit, Iranian people can really dance though. We had to pretend to be really busy taking photographs to prevent us from getting pulled to the floor for dancing.

By 11pm, there was still no sight of the wife. While Wei Chean was showing the photographs to one of the strangers, he conveniently placed his arm on Weichean’s shoulder. Arlina plucked the Iranian’s man fingers off Wei Chean’s shoulders and we started to scout for our exit route.

We discussed amongst ourselves discreetly and decided that we better scoot. We were surrounded by complete strangers and the only consoling factor was the 10-year-old son of the house owner, whom we spent most of our time with playing computer games.

Arlina went to open the main door. “Lenin” asked if she was looking for the toilets. We said it was getting late and we were feeling a little tired and would like to go back to the guest-house. Mr Sani was surprised by our sudden request to leave the home, but was gentlemanly enough to send us back.

On the way back, Mr Sani and “Lenin” wanted to bring us to the nearby fastfood restaurant for dinner, but we declined.They said ”Lenin’s” mom and his wife had saved food for them and they would be able to eat when they returned home.

We went back to the guesthouse with empty stomachs, the presents and headscarves intact.
Was there really an intention to host dinner at his home? Are we being too overly sensitive about all the things that happened in the home? Are they genuinely hospitable by inviting their friends to dance for us as a welcome gesture? We couldn’t’ decipher by agreed that it was a strange night indeed.

A Hug-and-Kiss Request and A Lesson Learnt in Esfahan

2007-05-20T00:51:00.000+08:00

We were strolling the streets in Esfahan and stopped a car to ask for directions. The driver couldn’t speak much English, but seemed very friendly and eager to help. He drove off, without giving much useful information. Minutes later, he turned his car back again and tried speaking to us. We told them that we would like to go to the Imam Khomeni Square, Ali Kappo Palace and Imane Mosque. They seemed to know and offered to drive us there.

We were grateful for their hospitality. Our new friends, Shampu and Amir were both businessmen who happened to be having a day away from work.Upon reaching, we thanked them and wanted to say goodbye but our kind “drivers” insisted on playing host. They even paid for some of the admission charges for the main sights and bought us ice-cream.

On the way, Shampu’s nephew, Rezar joined us in the vehicle. I was squashed between the driver, Amir and Rezar in the front seat. It was a very awkard and uncomfortable position, as two of us were squeezed into one miserable seat, with my bums leaning against the driver’s clutch.

Rezar was the only one who could speak English and he had to play the role of the translator. They brought us to a nice alfresco-dining restaurant which served wonderful chicken kebab and tea. Again, they refused to let us pay for our own meals. We felt indebted to them for all they had done, extending such hospitality to complete strangers like us.

With words and hand gestures, we chatted about prices of cigarettes, housing in Singapore, education policies and many others. His uncle suggested that we could stay in his apartment so that we could save our money rather staying in a guest-house.

After lunch, Shampur bade goodbye as he had some business to attend to. Rezar suggested us going to his uncle’s apartment to take a look. If we liked, we could stay there, if not, we could just be there for a while. It was hard to refuse at that point and out of gratitude, we acceded to his request.

Amir’s house was on the fourth level in an apartment that looked like a typical condominium in Singapore. Sacks of cement were lying on the floor, the lift was still not in operation and there did not seemed to be any living beings in the brand-new apartment.

As we climbed the stairs, we had an uneasy feeling. If anything should happen to us, we would definitely not be able to get immediate help. Maybe we were scaring ourselves, we thought. We caught a glimpse of a unit that was occupied, and that calmed us a little. “We just sit for a while and then “charboat” after that,” we decided.

The house was very spacious. The living room was nicely lined with Persian carpets and cushions. We sat around and Amir served us dried fruits, nuts and tea. We chatted with Rezar about his plans of pursuing his studies in Sweden, the government policies in Iran and religions. Amir’s family used to stay near the border near Iraq, and because of the war, they escaped into Iran. It was a casual afternoon conversation and the television was on. Amir was watching music videos through satellite, with Madonna and Britney Spears prancing around provocatively in their sexy tight-fitting outfits.

Rezar asked me to go into the bedroom and said that he had something to discuss with me. Since Arlina and Wei Chean were both in the living room, I followed Rezar into the bedroom.

He sat down on a pile of stacked carpets and cushions in the bedroom and said as a matter-of-factly, “My nephew (he means his uncle), would like to kiss-and-hug you. Okay?

It’s probably “safer” to be a conservative Muslim woman, whom the Iranians have more respect for, than a Chinese woman now, I thought.
“No, No, I’m Chinese. Chinese and Muslims same same, cannot,” thinking I could get away with it by using religion- Islamic faith as the trump card.

“But why? you are in Iran?,” he asked again, looking almost innocent and perplexed when I turned down his calm request.

Not knowing what to say, I repeated myself, “No, no, Chinese and Muslims, same same. Boyfriend in Singapore, boyfriend not happy, cannot. Sorry” He frowned his brows and I started to sidetrack to other topics, “When are you going to Sweden, you said your sister was in Stockholm now right?”. I continued to bombard him with pmany completely irrelevant questions just to ease the awkard situation. I made a fast exit back to the living room and communicated to the rest of gals in a mixture of Singapore slangs, Mandarin, Hokkien and English that it was time to leave.

We decided that things were getting a little strange and since we had a dinner appointment, we could use that as an excuse to go off. We told Rezar that we needed to leave soon as the dinner appointment was at 7pm (actually it was at 8pm), and we need to get back to the guest-house to rest for a while. Rezar asked us to wait for another 10 minutes, as the other friend, Shampu would be back soon and he can send us back.

”Die, if Shampur comes back, it would be three men against three of us,we would be outnumbered.” We started clearing the nuts, dried-fruits and washed the teacups. Arlina went to open the door to make sure that the escape route was clear. We told Rezar, “No, no, don’t worry, we can just get a taxi back to our guest-house from here. Thank you anyway.” Admir, Rezar’s uncle was busy on the phone throughout this time.. Thankfully, we got a cab in the next 10 minutes. Before the taxi left, Rezar asked us where we would be going the next day. “We’re not sure, we might just walk around on our own,” he gave us his number and asked us to call them if we had time tomorrow.” “Okay, thank you,” we said, and waved bye bye to him.

Like hell we will.

Venturing into the Middle East, Iran, Turkey and Syria

2007-05-20T00:09:00.000+08:00

“What? Are you crazy, you’re going to Iran?” That’s the general response of many of my friends when I told them about my month-long expedition to the Middle East. To many Singaporeans, Iran is often associated with their nuclear policy, the unsafe country next to Iraq where war is imminent. For me, I’m curious to explore this mystery-strodded part of the world which I have seen and heard so much and see what life is like there.

The Middle-East trip turned out to be a lot more challenging as we had to decipher the good and sometimes bad intentions of the people, find quick solutions to get ourselves out of awkward situations with ease, play charade with strangers to get them to understand our questions
We visited many sights and mosques till we suffered from arches-fatigue and swore not to see arches again. We enjoyed the comfy comforter in a tree-house, endured the icy water in a heater-less cave hotel and spent an unforgettable night with the nomads in the middle of the desert.

We made friends with many locals, chatted with guides about their countries and their hopes, talked to shop-owners about their beloved cats, girlfriends and their restaurants, spoke to travellers about places they have been and eavesdropped about the case of a missing Australian girl in Syria,

The people showered us with great hospitality, too much sometimes. Free snacks and drinks offers by old friendly vendors in the bazaar, young Iranian girls chucking pieces of paper and notebooks into our faces for autographs as if we were celebrities. And even private, lewd jokes about the Iranian men and women, complete with actions and special sound effects by our Iranian guide, erm.. too much actually.

Some experiences were very pleasant, and some were rather risky on hindsight. But all in all, the one month in Middle East was truly a memorable experience. We embraced the beauty and the people of this often misunderstood cradle of civilizations.

Leaving for the Middle East

2007-04-06T17:24:00.000+08:00

I've been down with bad flu for the last two weeks. Went to see the doctor consecutively for two weeks, but the flu bug still doesn't want to leave me alone. Hope I'll recover soon. :)

It has been a while since I went for a long trip. The last long trip was last September, when I went to Northern Thailand for my first solo-trip.

I'm grateful to my kind sweet boss who was kind enough to let me go for a month and cover my duties. MUAKS!!!

Arlina, Weichean and I will be catching the 3am flight at Terminal One, Changi Airport. All my barang barang have been packed, medicine, cough syrup, notebook, gifts for my soon-to-be, new-found Iranian friends. I wonder whether there will be many changes when I come back, at work and at home.maybe I'll marry a sheik and not come back.hhahahhaa..told Christine that I'll send 3 camels to her as a parting gift, if I should decide not to come back to Singapore. Also told my fellow colleagues in the office that they might catch us on BBC if we are captured by the Iranians.

This trip may not be life-changing, but it will certainly be an adventurous and fun journey to remember! See you in May 7. Will be touching down on May 7 and resuming work on May 8.

Baby SHermaine's First Birthday

2007-03-17T22:28:00.000+08:00

Little Shermaine trying her hands at my camera.

Yesterday was Little Shermaine's 1st birthday. Time really flies and the little one has been with us for a good 365 days now. Sister is expecting another one end this year. With these little bundles of joy in the family, life is never going to be the same again.

Some shots of the cheeky gal.

Yawn!!

Little Shermaine

Peas & Marbles Story

2007-02-28T23:45:00.000+08:00

I was checking my emails when I chanced upon this email that my fren sent to me.

Mrs Miller was bagging some early potatoes for me. I noticed a small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily apprising a basket of freshly picked green peas.

I paid for my potatoes but was also drawn to the display of fresh green peas. I am a pushover for creamed peas and new potatoes. Pondering the peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between Mr. Miller and the ragged boy next to me.

"Hello Barry, how are you today?"

"H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus' admirin' them peas. Sure look good."

"They are good, Barry. How's your Ma?"

"Fine. Gittin' stronger alla' time."

"Good. Anything I can help you with?"

"No, Sir. Jus' admirin' them peas."

"Would you like to take some home?"

"No, Sir. Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with."

"Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas?"

"All I got's my prize marble here."

"Is that right? Let me see it."

"Here 'tis. She's a dandy."

"I can see that. Hmmmmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of go for red. Do you have a red one like this at home?"

"Not zackley. but almost."

"Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip this way let me look at that red marble."

"Sure will. Thanks Mr. Miller."

Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me. With a smile she said, "There are two other boys like him in our community, all three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to bargain with them for peas, apples, tomatoes, or whatever. When they come back with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like red after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green marble or an orange one, perhaps."

I left the stand smiling to myself, impressed with this man. A short time later I moved to Colorado but I never forgot the story of this man, the boys, and their bartering.

Several years went by, each more rapid than the previous one. Just recently I had an occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho community and while I was there learned that Mr. Miller had died. They were having his viewing that evening and knowing my friends wanted to go, I agreed to accompany them. Upon arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to meet the relatives of the deceased and to offer whatever words of comfort we could.

Ahead of us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform and the other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts, all very professional looking.
They approached Mrs. Miller, standing composed and smiling by her husband's casket. Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the cheek, spoke briefly with her and moved on to the casket.

Her misty light blue eyes followed them as, one by one, each young man stopped briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in the casket. Each left the mortuary awkwardly, wiping his eyes.

Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and mentioned the story she had told me about the marbles. With her eyes glistening, she took my hand and led me to the casket.

"Those three young men who just left were the boys I told you about. They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim "traded" them. Now, at last, when Jim could not change his mind about color or size....they came to pay their debt."

"We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this world," she confided, "but right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in Idaho."

With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her deceased husband. Resting underneath were three exquisitely shined red marbles.

Moral: We will not be remembered by our words, but by our kind deeds.
Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath.
Today I wish you a day of ordinary miracles:

A fresh pot of coffee you didn't make yourself. An unexpected phone call from an old friend. Green stoplights on your way to work. The fastest line at the grocery store. A good sing-along song on the radio. Your keys right where you left them.

Chinese New Year and A New Godson

2007-02-20T00:34:00.000+08:00

This year's Chinese New Year has been quite fun and it's nice to meet up with so many cousins, nephews, nieces and my ultra-huge extended family. And I've a new godson this year!

My uni buddie, Huihui has just given birth to a little baby boy, at 11.59am two days before Chinese New Year and her little one weighs 3.345kg. The sight of his first grandson was enough to keep Huihui's dad smiling from cheek to cheek throughout our visit. The intended Mongolia trip with Huihui would have to take a backseat now that there's a task that's more important for the first-time mom. I'll have to find new travel mates to fulfil my Mongolia trip dreams, hopefully in the near future. :)

Interesting quotes

2007-02-11T16:53:00.000+08:00

I was just randomly surfing the website when I came across these quotes which I thought were quite interesting and some funny.

"Oh shit, he's even dumber than I thought"

A problem is only as big as your imagination. Fortunately, so is the solution.
Forget what everyone around you thinks you can do. The only person who truely knows you is you. If you aren't sure whether or not you can do something, all the more reason to try.

Laughable Quotes
Two lions broke loose in the zoo and were eating a clown. One lion said to the other ... "Does this taste funny to you?"
Unknown

Whenever I see an old lady slip and fall on a wet sidewalk, my first instinct is to laugh. But then I think, what if I was an ant, and she fell on me. Then it wouldn't seem quite so funny.
Jack Handey, Deep Thoughts

Jakarta Birthday Trip- Girls' Night Out in Jarkarta 16 December to 18 December 2007

2007-01-21T00:28:00.000+08:00

This year's birthday is a special one. Arlina and Weichean suggested going somewhere out of Singapore to celebrate my birthday.

Though it was a really short weekend trip, we still managed to maximise our time in Batam and in Jakarta, doing all the "girlie" stuff, going for spa, shopping, eating and roaming the streets. We stayed in a squeaky clean guest-house in Jalan Jaksa. The trip was short, but nonetheless memorable and fun.

10 things that made this trip memorable

1) Weichean getting oogled at by the Indonesian men on Day One when she wore her sexy tube top and Day Two, when she wore her see-through lacy dress which left much to the cheekopeh Indonesian men's imagination.
2) The walk around the slum-area near the railway station on the last day in Jarkarta. Unfortunately, Wei Chean couldn't come along coz she was running a little fever. The slum area serves as the home for many Indonesians who left their villages to come to Jarkarta in search of greener pastures. There, we met a green chick and a pink chick, literally, two children from Papua New Guinea, friendly residents.
3) Three grown-up gals sleeping together in a king-size bed in the ultracheap yet squeaky clean guesthouse (S$12 per night).
4) Yummy Cemara gado gado which is best served cold, with bitter keropok, cucumber, beansprouts, "longtong rice", nicely immersed in fragrant cashew nut sauce.
5) The talented musician-beggar who sang beautiful Indonesian folktunes outside the shop while we enjoyed our authentic gado gado
5) The spa treatment which costs about S$80, including one-hour massage, milk bath and a cup of hot ginger tea. Weichean and I shared a tub, while Arlina enjoyed her privacy in the room next door.
6) The unforgettable meal at the roadside stall. It was a meal of excitement and loads of activities. Indonesian teenagers suddenly surrounding us with their make-shift instruments and drum-sets, singing enchanting Indonesian songs with their loud and powerful vocals. A beggar lady, with a baby slinged over her shoulder in a sarong, poking Arlina on her back asking for money as she ate her satay. Another uncle carrying stacks of books and travel guides from table to table, trying his luck for a potential buyer to bring the books home.
7) The bright pink and green chicks we chanced upon in the slum area. These poor chicks must have been "dipped" into the agar-agar colouring that the Indonesians use to make their jelly.
8)Roaming the little lanes in Blok M, the residents' shopping paradise with Arlina and Weichean
9) Taking the domestic flight (Lion Air) from Batam to Jakarta at about S$270. The wordings on the plane- Fly is Cheap.
10) Taking the little transport vehicle which is the equivalent of the tuk-tuk in Thailand.

Thank you girls, for making this year's birthday an unforgettable one as I neared the big three-zero.

Dying Young - Unpredictabilities of Life

2007-01-15T23:23:00.000+08:00

An sms came in yesterday at midnight. Xiuping, my secondary school classmate smsed me.

A friend has passed away suddenly. Reason: Breathing difficulties. He is only 30 years old. Leaving behind his 2-year-old daughter, his wife and a little one in his wife's tummy who will never have the chance to call him daddy.

I may not know him very well but it's still very sad to hear that someone you know has left the world so suddenly.

We knew each other by face for more than a decade. He was the left-marker of his secondary school SGT NCC. Tall and suave, he caught the eyes of many teenage girls then. I was the left-marker for my school. Our paths crossed again about 4 years ago at Clarke Quay. He came up to say hi and asked if I was from Cedar. We exchanged contacts and promised to keep in touch. We never really did, except for a few occasional emails.

The last time I met William was about 2 years ago at a friend's wedding. He was with his newly wedded wife then and both looked happy and in marital bliss. We chatted for a short while, he introduced his wife to me and then went back to our own circle of friends. That was the last I saw of him.

I've just seen his photograph in The Straits Times obituary page. His cheery disposition is vivid in the papers.

Life is so unpredictable. You never know what the destiny has for you next. I feel sorry for his wife and his children and hope time will heal their hearts.

Rest in peace, William
May your family find strength to overcome this challenging period.

My New Year Resolutions for 2007

2007-01-02T22:54:00.000+08:00

How time flies. It's 2007.

I've just had dinner with Waileng's who's back from her Taiwan posting for a short two-week break at Vivocity. She asked me about my new year's resolutions for this year.

Strangely enough, I've thought about it briefly, but haven't quite put this year's new year resolutions in black and white. My twin sister is pregnant again. I will have another little niece/nephew by this year. It makes me wonder- What would I be doing by 2007?

Here's my little attempt for the 2007 New Year's Resolutions:
1) Calculate my finances
2) Visit India and Mongolia
3) Retake roller-blading lessons- Sign up for new courses
4) Go back to my pottery lessons at Whampoa CC
5) Read a book at least once a week
6) Conquer Mount Kinabalu with Arlina and Wei Chean
7) Make full use of my newly purchased Mizuno trackshoes- jog at least once a week
8) Learn digital photography- practise, practise and practise.
9) Improve my Mandarin by writing, or at least attempting to write in Mandarin
10) Learn to whip up a few dishes from mummy every weekend
11) Get involved in community work- Club Rainbow or others.
12) Take driving lessons- not sure about this-coz I'm still having second thoughts.
13) Write more, Read more, and most importantly, travel more:)

That's all for now :)

19th December: My Twin and I

2006-12-19T16:19:00.000+08:00

19th December is a special day for me and my sister, Daisy.

We are born around 3pm in the afternoon in 1977, 15 minutes from each other. Two of us are twins, but our characters, interests, likes and dislikes are poles apart. Phew! Lucky I came to the world first, coz I can't imagine having such a girlish name that of a flower- Daisy.

I like olive green, blue, strips and avoid floral prints or laces of any sorts, and pink - yucks! Daisy loves Hello Kitty, pink, white and red, and her cupboard is filled with very "sweet" tops, floral-printed tops and dresses, things that you would never ever find in my possession.

I love bee hoon of any sort, given a choice between bee hoon or mee, I would choose bee hoon, no doubt. Daisy dislikes bee hoon, she prefers kuay teow or yellow mee over my favourite bee hoon.

I'm brown as the brownie and stands at 1.68m. She's fair as "tau-huay" and is half a head shorter than me, at 1.6m. Since young, we have maintained that height and colour difference.

I enjoy outdoor sports, whitewater rafting, camping and backpack trekking. Pulau Ubin and East Coast are my favourite haunts. Daisy hates going under the sun, she prefers shopping at Suntec City or just staying at home.

My ideal holiday destinations are exotic countries such as Mongolia, Nepal, Tibet and places that are lesser trodded by tourists. Daisy's definition of a holiday is one of a luxurious treat, with good hotels, fine dining and shopping, so places like Hong Kong, Australia and Taiwan are her obvious choices.

Backpack travelling is what I love most as it allows me to immerse myself in the cultures of the people in the foreign land, travel and see the sights at my own pace. I enjoy the uncertainities and the occasional surprises and discoveries along the way. Daisy once said that she would never ever go backback travelling, as she prefers to have her itnerary planned and the confirmed schedule at her fingertips.

I once did an experiment with my twin. Given $3000, would you use the money to go for a holiday or buy a diamond ring or necklace?

Sister chose the diamond necklace without hesitation. Why? Her rationale: Memories will fade, but if you buy the diamond ring, you'll get it keep it forever. As for me, I would choose the holiday trip over the diamond ring anytime. Coz I don't like diamonds, think it's a waste of money and I love travelling. Even if memories fade eventually, at least the experiences are eternal. More so, then any stones or diamonds can offer.

It's amazing sometimes how two persons who are born to the same family, spent six years of education in the same primary school, eat, drink and breathe the same kind of air can be so distinctly different.

Daisy's newborn, Baby Shermaine is now almost 8 months old. Sis will be spending her birthday this year, with her husband, Peter and her beloved baby Shermaine.Here's a look at my twin sister's blog and baby Shermaine, http://www.our-humble-life.blogspot.com/our-humble-life.blogspot.com/

As for me, I've just returned from a weekend trip to Jakarta with Arlina and Weichean. It was a short holiday, but nonetheless, meaningful and enjoyable. We did the usual girlie stuff, going for massages, spa treatment, tried the infamous Cermara gado-gado, ate at roadside stalls and restaurants.

Arlina also brought me to the slum area near the railway tracks to see a contrasting but real sight of Jakarta, where many families live in poor living conditions, in small makeshift shacks along the tracks. These people are poor, but nonetheless, happy and friendly. One Indonesian "ah-peh" warned us not to go to a certain area, for fear of pickpockets.

Sometimes we lament about our lives and how it can be better. But when one goes beyond the comfort zones of Singapore and witness the harsh realities of life and see how people survive in such dire circumstances, it makes you rethink your life again.

My birthday resolutions this year- To travel and see the world, to document my travel adventures and involve myself in more charity projects such as the Club Rainbow's Camp Sunshine project I've participated last year.

PART SEVENTEEN: True Confessions of The Solo Traveller

2006-12-04T01:28:00.000+08:00

Confession One
I slept with a 23-year-old Canadian boy, Justine, two days after I've known him. With Justine, in the same room at Mae Hong Son, coz it was 200 bahts per room and there are two beds inside. We had a great time chatting with two German gals who were teaching English in a nearby village school who were staying in the same guest house. I was greatly entertained by Justine's numerous "no thanks" and a Thai lady's persistent attempt to convince Justine to go to her house to spend the lonely night.

Confession Two
I followed three strangers on their motorbikes less than 20 minutes after we chatted on my first day in Pai and downed three shots of Thai herbal whisky, something I normally wouldn't even lay my hands on back home.

Confession Three
I drove the scooter without a licence. I had no clues how to ride a scooter. I befriended a 31-year-old Thai man while eating at the roadside stall and made him my "teacher". In Pai, they don't even ask you for your motorbike licence. All you need is 100-120 baht per day, and you'll get the motorbike for the entire day. You can do whatever you want and visit some of the nearby villages, hotspring or just cruise around the little town.

Confession Four
I drooled over my Thai rafting guide, secretly. With a neatly tied pony tail, tanned and atheletic hot bod, who bears an uncanny resemblance to the famous heart-throbber, Takashi Sorimachi, who acted in GTO and The Beach Boys, at least to me. I'm sure he will sell like hotcakes and will swoon many girls over if he's born in a different land, I thought to myself.

Confession Five
Muddleheadedness is a trait of mine that many close friends of mine would know. I left my favourite Nike trackpants in the Lahu village in the Northeastern part of Thailand after the two-day-one-nighttrek in Chiangmai. For one who had left my small haversack at the airport in Rome, after carrying my huge haversack and realising the "boo-boo" only 150 metres before I left the airport, and who had dropped my passport, without even knowing it, the loss of my trackpants during this two week break was considered a huge achievement. Hopefully, the tribal villagers would be able to put my favourite trackpants into good use.

Confession Six
I receive a marriage offer and an boyfriend offer, one from Mr Potato, a 60-year-old village man,and when told that I am single, he said, "how about you be my wife?" We had a good laugh and I confessed in an almost Thai-style fashion, "I like Made-in-Singapore, not Made-in-Thailand.

Nonetheless, I threw myself willingly into this arms, literally, as the kind Potato gave each of us a good Thai massage and literally tucked us into bed, under the comfort of the mosquito nets. The other marriage proposal was from an old Romanian fella, who asked "Hey lady, where are you going?" while I was walking along the street. "Going down the street, I replied. Are you looking for friends, a lover, or a boyfriend?" I said, "No, thank you, but minutes later, I was sitting around with them, chatting about the atrocities of war, the Thai people's culture and everything under the sky.

Confession Seven
I was offered to smoke marijuana by a South American traveller, who had been staying in Thailand for several years. I must confess that I was tempted. Drugs is a taboo in Singapore and I have no clues where to find marijuana in Singapore. But I decided not. I thankfully declined this one in a life-time chance for the heavenly puff.

PART SIXTEEN: Dos & Don'ts

2006-12-04T01:25:00.001+08:00

1) Follow your heart. Don't feel obliged to visit the must-see temples, or follow the guide book to go the must-go places unless you really want to. You're on holiday and so long as you are enjoying your holiday, it doesn't matter what you do.

2) Don't forget your flashlight. One night in Pai, a little hippie town, 3 hours drive from ChiangMai, we experienced 3 blackouts within the same night. The torchlight would have come in handy, but incidents can sometimes be nice, because I met the wonderful owner, Amido, the best pizza-maker in Thailand, as quoted in the Lonely Planet, when both of us were standing outside the provision shop. We ended up having a very nice conversation, about his life experiences, his deceased wife and his daughter whom he has never seen for the last 14 years.

3) Don't expect punctuality, except when you are travelling by the railway train.
My guide told me to wait at 8.30am at Mae Aw, the Chinese village, as he would be bringing tourists to the Chinese village and would be able to send me to the bus station at Mae Hong Son. I waited till 10.30am but still see no sight of my driver.

4) Do switch your "brain" to a different time zone, Thailand is one hour
before Singapore time.

5) Don’t use this phrase easily, “Bar Bar Bor Bor”, though it sounds really nice. It means Crazy Man. Unless you are absolutely sure that the person is out of his mind, refrain from using this phrase.

PART FIFTEEN: My Last Day in Pai- Zero Stop

2006-12-04T00:58:00.000+08:00

I booked my bus-ticket at 550 bahts, from Pai to Bangkok at the Duang GuestHouse just about a 5-minute walk from the bus station. The bus was scheduled to depart at 2pm. In the morning, I went to visit Amido at his restaurant for the last time.

I had wanted to eat his pizza but he told me that it was not possible, because he usually only heat the oven at 6.30pm in the evening. He suggested me having beef lasagna instead. I had the refreshing lemon grass tea as well for the last time.

Amido and I had become good pals just in the last couple of days. He did not allow me to pay for my breakfast despite my insistent requests. We took photographs together with his scrambler bike and I promised that I will send the photographs to him when I return to Singapore. Amido offered me a ride on his scrambler, even though the hotel is only a 5-minute walk away. I took up his kind offer, and went for a brisk ride on his "grasshopper-green" scrambler bike.

I went back to my villa, packed my bagpack and headed to the main street. I went for my final massage in a run-down Thai salon. The Thai lady was very nice and was busy spraying repellent for me to prevent me from getting bitten by the hungry mosquitoes. Language was a big problem. The Thai auntie couldn't speak English much, but she was very kind, conscientiously spraying her home-made insect repellent from a make-shift bottle onto my feet, muttering, "Mochito, mochito. Ooooh.....mochito...".

I had wanted to do the bare-backed elephant riding and river crossing but couldn't manage to do so as I did not have a partner and would need to pay double the price, (600 bahts) instead of 300 bahts.That was equivalent to 24 Singapore dollars for the 2-hour ride with the elephant.I had a little mental debate with myself, and decided that I would the elephant riding out this time.

The combination of friendly locals, relaxing pace of life, meandering river, lush-jungles, great restaurants and cool nightspots, make Pai a magical gem in Northern Thailand, and my favourite place in this trip.

Bye Bye PAI. (read as Bye) And as for riding on the elephant bare-backed and
crossing the river, I'll do it the next time.

I can't wait to get back to Singapore to whip up an authetic Thai papaya salad
for my family and friends.

PART FOURTEEN: My First Attempt on the MotorBike in Pai- Scootering in Pai,12 October 2006, Thursday

2006-12-04T00:47:00.000+08:00

After spending several hours in the comfy Pai villa hut, I decided to take a breather and grab a quick bite before returning to the room to continue on my travelogue.

When I was enjoying my fried rice at a roadside stall underneath the tree, a young man, Pong came up to me and started talking in Thai. "Chan Mai Chai Kong Thai (I'm not Thai in Thai language)", I replied swiftly, whipping out the phrase that I've mastered over the last few days. I told him I was not Thai and we chatted. He asked if I had visited the hot spring which was only 6 kilometres away from Pai. I told him that I didn’t know how to ride the scooter. He suggested that I could rent the motorcycle from his friend’s shop and he could bring me to the nearby waterfall, hotspring and the Chinese village and teach me how to ride the scooter.

I said yes to Pong’s suggestion. Not because I really wanted to see the waterfall, or the Chinese village, but I wanted him to teach me how to ride the motorbike. I have been eyeing the scooters for the past few days. Pai is probably the only place in Asia where you can rent a motorbike or scooter without a licence. Knowing myself, I would most likely crash into some flowerpots or knock some poor dogs down if I handle a scooter on my own. He rode the first part of the journey, and when the road was smoother, I said, “Okie, now we change. I want to learn. You teach me.” We switched positions and I took over the bike. Pong was holding on to the brake most of the time, but kept giving words of encouragement, “You learn fast, you very good.”

Poo brought me to the nearby waterfall and we stopped at a local pub owned by his fren, Boo, a cool Thai lady, who married a Frenchman. Boo was playing pool with a few of her customers from Italy. One of the Italians recognized me and said that we have met at Amido’s Pizza Garden the night before.

I bought Pong a bottle of coke and he had a pool match with Boo. Boo invited me to go to another part of her little pub which offered a spectacular view of the mountains. I was happily using my camera to capture these beautiful moments, when I felt a tug at my pants. I looked down to realize that it was a kitten. I have a phobia for cats and the little kitchen freaked me out. I took a step back and it thought that I was playing with it and gave chase. I ran further. I turned my head to check on the furry one.

I kept a safe distance of about two metres from the kitten. The kitten stood still. Some people say that animals can sense emotions of human beings. I decided to engage in a short yet intense staring session with the kitten, to exert my authority over the little creature. My attempt failed miserably, the kitten sprang towards me. I think it sensed my fear more so and I had to forsake my beautiful scenery.

It soon started pouring and we had to seek shelter before we go back to Pai. Pong and I made a pact to meet at 7pm for dinner outside Pai de Villa, my guesthouse. After 10 minutes of waiting, I decided to walk to the main street on my own. He was having his dinner and didn’t realized that it was 7pm. I told him that it was alright and I would walk around on my own instead.

Soon after, I bumped into Amido, the Pizza Man and Terry, sitting at the same place we met the last time along the main street. Terry is from England and teaches English in Bangkok. We had a nice conversation about the atrocities of war, discrimination and Thailand for about an hour, before I made my exit to go back to the room to continue with my travelogue while the rest of the folks made their way to Be-Bop, the popular live-music pub in Pai.

PART THIRTEEN: Pubbing in Pai- The Buffalo Exchange & Quirky Shops in Pai

2006-12-04T00:38:00.000+08:00

For Singaporeans who are on a shoe-string budget but enjoy pubbing, Pai is a
great place to go. No cover charge, for ladies night. Everyone can just come
into the pub, and you only have to pay for your drink, the cheapest of all, the
Singha beer, which costs 50 bahts. I went to The Buffalo Exchange, an intimate
cool pub. No fancy decorations, or super stereo surround-sound systems. It was
Open Mike session in the evening. In this cozy pub, musicians or aspiring singers flaunt their vocals and guitar skills to a hippie audience who are willing to give them a shot at fame, or simply a listening ear.

Quirky Shops in Pai
Check out MU and Saibadee Gallery along the main street of Pai. These two quirky
shops which sells an electic selection of T-shirts, jewelleries, postcards and
artworks by two young talented Thai designers. I went window-shopping at MU and Saibadee Gallery numerous times and got some really cute keychains and postcards for my dearie friends and colleagues.

PART TWELVE: A Beautiful Tale About Amido, The Pizza Man

2006-11-27T00:13:00.000+08:00

In my two weeks’ backpacking trip, I’ve befriended Amido, one of the most interesting person I’ve ever met in my life.

He worked as a spy for the Algerian Army. He was the boxing king in Europe for three consecutive years, in 1976 and was a renowned chef. He owned his own restaurant, his hotel and was much sought-after for his culinary skills.He had a beautiful wife and lived in a big house.He owned posh cars, such as Lamborghini, Porsches. He had loads of money.

But he didn't spare time to enjoy them. He worked non-stop for 35 years in the kitchen, everyday, round the clock. His luxurious cars were a mere mode of transport, bringing him just 6 kilometres to and fro from his home daily. He decided to call it quits, sold all his properties back home and came to Southeast Asia for his first time seven years ago. He brought 18,000 million bahts to Thailand, and lost most of it in less than 4 months.

The Thai Conman and Conwoman

He befriended two Thai lawyers and they encourged him to invest in land in Bangkok. Thinking that it was a worthwhile investion, he forked out a large amount of his month after they showed him beautiful images of the land that he would soon be the owner of.

He signed the documents (in Thai) and weeks later, went to his new "home".

When he was walking towards his "new" house, he saw a police car and two army trucks parked just outside. As he neared the gate, a short, moustached General approached him and asked what he was doing there. He told the General that he had bought the land.

The General sneered and laughed. "I have the documents," Amido said,as he dugged into his briefcase for the documents.

"Ok, you show me," said the General. When Amdo finally showed him the documents, he laughed.

The contract that Amido had signed actually stated that he is entitled to 2 weeks' motorcycle rental in Phuket. Amido tried to seek for assistance. "You wait, I call my lawyer friends", he said, pulling out his handphone.

"You no need to call," said the General. There is no lawyers." He pointed at the police car and said, that is my daughter and that is my son. Amido's supposedly lawyer partners are in cahoots with the General.

Amido had no choice, but to leave the house, carrying nothing but his briefcase, and a heavy heart."I didn't have a choice, and I didn't want to go to jail," he recalled.

He called some of his friends back home for help, and some flew to Bangkok to help him tide over the difficult period. He then went to Pai and established the Amido Pizza Garden, doing what he's best at.

Settling Down in Pai

He is happy now, in Pai, with his little Amido Pizza Garden. Lonely Planet rated his pizzas as the best in Thailand." Thailand, I'm not sure, but in Pai, oh yeah, I'm sure."

His wife died 15 years ago but he chose not to remarry. Many Thai people in Pai questioned why, they asked him, “Are you gay?” Do you like boys?“

Amido said, "No, I’m not gay. I’m perfectly straight”, and his Thai friends argued that,“It’s not normal”. :What is normal?", he asked with a cool expression. "So long as you feel happy, it is alright. She has died, 15 years ago, but I cannot get her off my mind, he shared, pointing his finger to his mind."You can put the most beautiful Thai woman in front of me. I would say yes, she is very beautiful, but I can’t do nothing with her.”

Many friends tried to persuade him to go back to Europe but he declined.He sells a good 33-cm inch pizza for about 150 bahts to 200 bahts, made using the best imported ingredients he can find. He only earns about 40 bahts per pizza, but he is happy. "I don't care, if I want to make money, I would not be in Thailand, I would be in Europe."

Spying during his Teenage Years

Born in Algeria to a father who worked as a colonel in the army, Amido was selected to be in the special squad to work as a spy during his teenage years for the Algerian army. He witnessed death, and killed people, all not within his choice. He witnessed deaths, war atrocities and experienced war two times in his life. The special squad moved around in groups of five. Each leader was appointed, depending on the specialization of the leader and the task assigned.

Recalling the past, Amido, said, “ When the chief says, "Clean the village"- it literally means to wipe out everyone and killed everyone. Amido is a great man with a big heart. Despite all the ups and downs in his life, he strongly believe that life is beautiful. At times when he had no choice, he had to follow the leader. “When he had the choice, he secretly let the innocent women, old folks and young children off. He recalled once when he was tasked to clean this village, when he reached the village, all the men were out working. The only people left in the house were the helpless women and old folks and innocent children.

“Nobody in this village dies, we let them off, if you go back to camp and tell this, I will kill you myself.”,he threatened. Amido saved hundred of innocent lives, putting his own life at risk. He could have been killed if he was discovered.

Despite all the ups and downs that he has faced, he said to me, "Life is beautiful. It is sometimes the stupidity of people that makes it otherwise."

PART ELEVEN: Cooking Up A Feast At BeBe Wok n Roll with Tee & Carlos

2006-11-27T00:08:00.000+08:00

Impress your mom with your new Thai dishes by taking a one-day course at Bebe Wok "n" Roll.

You'll learn how to make your own chilli paste, the 7 different kinds of Thai curries and best of all, be entertained by the smiley hippie chief, Tee and his assistant, Carlos who bears a striking resemblance to Santana. Bearing a moustache, a goatie, his long mane of hair neatly tied into a long pony tail, Tee looks more like a hippie rocker than our stereotypical perception of a typical "Bebe" in the kitchen.

The class usually comprises only 4-6 students and the best part is you'll get toinvite a few guests for dinner. His lovely dog, Ginger, affectionately called his "daughter", is one of the most human-like dogs. A cross bred between a Golden Retriever (her dad) and a Dalamation (her mom), it explains the beautiful golden mane, and distinctive white spots. Ginger, is very friendly and loves to be patted and caressed. She walks around in between the gas stoves and pots at ease.

Accordingly to Tee, Ginger is a food connoisseur herself. She loves chicken and Tee has to mix the chicken and rice well, if it’s not well-mixed, she would just take a consolatory bite and walk off. Many times during the lesson, she would just place her face on your lap, waiting for a nice stroke. At times, when you are stroking her, she would even put her paw onto your hand.

PART TEN: About Pai- The Backpackers' Haven

2006-11-26T23:58:00.000+08:00

It's no wonder why the much-trusted travel book Lonely Planet says that Pai is a backpackers' haven.

Romantic, Relaxed and Charming.

Pai has an irresistable charm that makes backpack travellers slow down their pace. Pai is almost like a fairytale land come alive, where people are always smiling, stopping to catch up with one another and "farangs" and natives living harmoniously together.

In fact, you can be walking along the streets on your own one second, and sitting with complete strangers who are just chilling out by the roadside, for a good one-hour chat, the very next second. This is one of the unique charms in Pai. The little place is like a crossroad junction where travellers from different continents of the world meet and befriend one another. It's no wonder, they have T-shirt with the word, 0 kmPai- meaning everything begins in Pai. Pai is especially nice for couples on honeymoon, or big groups of friends who just want to chill out at pubs filled with like-minded travellers. For the foodies and pubbers, you'll never go hungry or thirsty in Pai. There are loads of restaurants and roadside stalls to whet your taste buds.

PART NINE: Sleeping in the Chinese Village, Mae Aw Chinese Village

2006-11-26T22:38:00.000+08:00

Mae Aw- A Chinese Village in Thailand

22km north of Mae Hong Son, on a mountain peak at the Myanmar border, Maw Aw is a Chinese KMT (Kuomintang) settlement. The scenery from Mae Hong Son to Mae Aw is breathtaking, with lush tea bushes neatly nestled on the plains of the mountainscape.

Being a Chinese, I had initially planned to go to Chiang Rai, and head to the Mae Salong Chinese village. I thought it would be fun to meet Chinese people, speak Mandarin and feel “Chinese” in Thailand. I was hoping to speak to the old comrades and hopefully can get a real-life account of how these soldiers and their families have moved from China to settleThailand. As time was not on my side, I decided to explore the smaller-scaled version of Mae Salong, Mae Aw village instead.

Savouring Yunanese Delicacies at Mae Aw

Most tourists would come to Mae Aw for the specially brewed Chinese tea and the Yunan cuisine. For me, eating infamous stewed pork with herbs and the man tou (steamed rice flour cake) on a rainy night was a great treat. But chatting with the Chinese restaurant owner and getting a personal invitation to visit their house was the real highlight for me. I have always wondered how a typical village house would be like whenever I travel in the jeep, peering through the window, as the vehicle cruises along the dirt tracks of the villages. It is a great feeling when you feel the sense of trust for strangers and them for yourself.

Meeting Kind Souls in Mae Aw- My New Friend, Ah Zhen & The Restaurant Owner

Ah Zhen was the restaurant helper I met during dinner at the restaurant. I had initially hoped to see some old Chinese comrades and listen to their war-time stories and how they fought the war, but I understood from Madam Lin that the earlier generations, like her father, are mostly deceased or in their late 80s.

The restaurant owner, 61-year-old Madam Lin Chang Zhi has been staying in Thailand for more than 50 years. She got married at a late age of 38 years old, and has two children, one elder daughter studying in the university in Chiangmai and a teenage son. Her husband was from the 93 Battalion and many of them came from Yunan to settle in Thailand. Many chose to stay in Thailand after the war instead of going back to the communist state motherland. Ah Zhen, on the other hand, is born in Burma and was married to her husband at the age of 18 years old. Her husband is from the Akha village, and both couldn't write a word of Mandarin. She's thirty-two years old and has two sons, one 13 year old and another 8 years old. She has spent most of her time taking care of their vegetables, their pigs and chicken.

She now works in the restaurant and can whip up authetic Yunan cuisine, without batting an eyelid. She earns about 1700 bahts a month (about S$78). During the peak season, Ah Zhen sometimes have to work till the wee hours of the morning, around 2am before heading home for a night's rest and to get back to work before dawnbreak. Her house is about a 25-minute walk from the restaurant and the city centre. My guest house was at the midpoint leading to her house.

Peaceful Life in the Village & A Special Invitation

Life is the village is very tranquil. By 8.30pm, most of the people are already nestled in their own homes. After dinner and a nice conversation with the smiley restaurant owner, Mdm Zhang, Ah Zhen offered to walk me to my guesthouse as it was dark and I had no torchlight.

When we reached my guesthouse, she asked if I would like to go to her house, since I was planning to leave tomorrow. I didn’t quite get her invitation at first because of the language barrier. When I realised, I was thrilled by the unexpected invitation. Shyly, I told her that I would need her to walk me back later as I would not know how to find my way back to the guesthouse in the dark. I asked if she would be too tired to do so. Ah Zhen, smiled, and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll walk you back again.”

Like a happy lamb, I followed her and her husband and we chatted about her children, her husband, her family along the way. Her husband keep a distance, but was faithfully and sweetly, tailing behind us, shining the torch on the dirt-track, to point out puddles of water and muddy spots to avoid. Their newly furnished cement house was built by Taiwanese craftsmen.

No fancy decorations or plush sofa set, but nonetheless cosy, in a very primitive way. Her two sons were at home watching television. I tried to “chat them up”, but they were extremely shy. I guessed it must be the first time they have ever seen a foreigner in their house.

Feeling the Chinese Warmth and Hospitality

Ah Zhen disappeared for a short while and re-appeared with a plate of western sponge cake and specially home-brewed Chinese tea.I guessed it must be her way of reciprocal to the plastic bags of tomatoes I had given her during dinner. During my “chat-up” attempt, a wrinkled face appeared from the bedroom, with a wide sincere smile. I guessed I must have been too noisy, and woke Grannie up, as she walked out from her bedroom.

Grannie is Ah Zhen’s mother-in-law. We couldn’t understand each other, but the body language speaks it all. Grannie came to the table, where we were sitting, just outside the house, to offer me a pack of biscuits. Without speaking, she gently took out a few pieces of biscuits from the plastic bag and placed them onto the plate which holds the sponge cake. It was her humble way of extending her hospitality to a foreigner like me. I was touched. Ah Zhen shared their family photographs, of her deceased father and her brother with me.

One interesting fact I've learnt from Ah Zhen is that it takes about three months to grow and harvest the maize plant. Once harvested, the maize plant will die and the planting routine repeats itself again. I have always wondered why crops of maize plants often wither together and Ah Zhen’s explanation helped solved this mystery. I took numerous photographs of the family and promised them that I would send the photographs to home when I returned to Singapore.

After staying in the house for about an hour, I baded goodnight to the family, so that they can have a good night’s rest. I was deeply touched by the family’s hospitality and warmth extended to me, a complete stranger. The visit to their home made the stay in Mae Aw worthwhile, better than what any packaged tour can offer. To make my trip for memorable, I accidentially slipped and landed on my butt while trying to catch a glimpse of the twelve pigs that Ah Zhen reared, just 2 minutes before I left their home.

PART EIGHT: MAE HONG SON AND THE ONE-DAY JEEP RIDE AROUND

2006-11-26T22:23:00.000+08:00

Mae Hong Son

Justine and I chose to stay in Mae Hong Son while Becky and Sue opted to return to Pai by the jeep. We said our goodbyes and promised to exchange photographs.

Mae Hong Son is a small town, about 44 kilometres from Pai. Most of the activities in Mae Hong Son centres around the lake and the nearby tribal villages. I checked into the Friends Guesthouse with Justine and paid 200 bahts for a room.

I spent about one hour roaming the streets, checking with the travel agencies, to see if there were any existing 1-day tour or 2-day tour around Mae Hong Son that I could register myself for. I went door-to-door from one travel agency to another, in search of an arranged tour, but in vain. It seemed like I was one of the rare tourists during this low season. I was told that the peak season would usually start in November and December.

I befriended the friendly beardy owner of Mae Hong Son Travel who has been in the trade for over 20 years., I paid a hefty 1500 baht to hire a private jeep and the driver for a one-day tour, which include the admission to the long-necked village and the big-ear village, the suspension bridge, the Fish Cave and ending the trip at Mae Aw, the Chinese village populated by migrants from Yunan.

One-day jeep ride at Mae Hong Son

I met my driver, Thorn, 66 years old, at 9am. Thorn used to be a photographer for over 10 years. He shared that he used to take photographs in Phuket and had printed his photographs onto postcards and T-shirts. However, because of the advancement of digital photography, many tourists to Thailand were about to take their own photographs and the sales of the postcards and photographs plunged by over 40%. He has just started working as a driver about a year ago and showed me his neatly-written notes about the tribal villages in Northern Thailand.

Thorn has a son who works in Bangkok as a lawyer and a daughter who is in the third year in university.

No Show at the Fish Cave

The Fish Cave is a unique must-see in Mae Hong Son, highly recommended by many guidebooks. There is a constant stream flowing out from the cave and the fishes have a beautiful bluish tinge. There are many brook carps residing in the water, and these fishes are considered sacred fishes for the local people. The Fish Cave is under the administration of Tham Pla-Pha Sean National Park that covers most of the tourist attractions in Pang Mapa district and Mae Hong Son town. Do visit the Fish Cave in the early morning. Our visit to the Fish Cave was a little disappointing as the fishes were too full in the afternoon and were not the least attracted to the fish feeds and vegetables we specially bought for them.

Putting on Mud-Mask

My driver then brought me to another place which is owned by a Thai entrepreneur. He has discovered the natural mud resource in his plot of land, and converted the whole place into a beauty salon which offers special mud-masks and facials. I chose the 20 minutes mud-mask, the cheapest and the shortest, so that Thorn didn’t have to wait for me for such a long time. There was a ladyboy with beautifully manicured fingernails who was enjoying his facial massage when I went in. The de natural mask worked its wonders and my face felt very cleansed and good.

“Long-Necked” Karen Village (Ban Nai Soi)

As part of my private tour, my guide, brought me to the biggest Padung village. This is one of the three long-necked Karen villages near Mae Hong Son town. Ban Nai Soi is located near the kilometre mark, 199, on highway 1095, about 17 kilometres from Mae Hong Son town. About 50 families come from another community called Ban Nam Diang Din. These women are usually in Thailand by choice, having fled a potentially worse fate in Myanmar amid ethnic war.

Some of these young girls start applying their brass coils at an early age in order to elongate their necks. It is said that this custom may have to do with imitating dragons and wearing the coil around the neck is considered to be attractive as well. In this village, the women wear a continuous brass coil around their necks. The coils are very heavy and can weigh as much as 22 kilograms. From the admission charge, the “long necked” people receive a small portion of the money collection from the admission, and the remaining money is controlled by Karenni National Progressive Party (KNPP).

In the past, the wearing of the metal coil around the neck is only limited to those who are born on the 15th of the month, or during the full month. But, increasingly, to attract more tourists to come to the village, the “long-necked” people have modified the practice and allowed their children to wear the coils regardless of the birthdate.

It's a double-edged sword when it comes to my feelings for these tribal people after my chat with new-found friend, Amido. Unlike the other hilltribes which still retained a certain level of privacy, the long-necked villagers and the big-ear villagers have throngs of curious tourists and Thai people visiting their villages flashing their cameras in their faces daily.

Amido likened the experience of visiting the village, as similar to that of visiting the zoo, and the admission charge equivalent to paying money to see someone shower in her very own home. It’s sad, but if tourists and Thai people do not visit the villages, their handicrafts would not be sold, and their main source of income threatened. He said that the first time he visited the village, he felt very sad for the long-necked people. The least we could do, as tourists, is to support them, by buying their hand-made textiles and handicrafts.

PART SEVEN: Love & Friendships Transcend Geographical Boundaries and Nationalities

2006-11-26T21:42:00.000+08:00

Somehow I have an affinity with older folks. The first day in Pai, I met three past-prime folks, two of whom are from South America. One of them has been staying in Pai for more than four years and has a lovely mute girlfriend who sells delicious roadside snacks in a pushcart. He looks easily over 55 years old, and his girlfriend not more than half his age. Asked whether he is ever going to go back to South America, he said, "No, I have my house here, my girlfriend is here and I'm happy."

How did I meet them? I was just walking along the street by myself on my first day in Pai when one of the foggies chilling out for an evening chat outside the provision shop, called out to me, “Sarwadecar", which means “Hallo” in Thai language. I smiled, and shouted back, “Chan Mai Chai Kon Thai”. (I'm not Thai in Thai language). He signalled me to go over to their table, and started to guess which country I was from. It was a fun country-guessing session, he splewed terms including South America, Korea and many others, but it was his friend, the quiet musician who guessed it right.

He is a very free-spirited person. The way he interacted with the local children, and the advice he gave me when I tried my first shot of the home-made Thai whisky. "We're going to bring you to this local pub that has rarely been visited by foreigners. Don't worry, you would be very safe with you tonight, nothing bad is going to happen to you, he reassured. I trusted them, simply because you can feel the "niceness" in them. I then hopped on into his scooter, and with the rest of his friends, we scooted to the Buffalo Pub.

At the Buffalo Pub, the owner, makes very good Thai whisky with herbs. His home-made whisky guarantees to knock one out completely after three shots. The trick to combat this, according to my new-found friends, is to drink lots of water, after each shot, to avoid suffering from any hangover the next morning.

PART SIX: Making New Friends in a Foreign Land

2006-11-26T21:34:00.001+08:00

Chatting With Strangers & Looking Like A Thai

It is never the culture in Singapore to greet strangers with a "How are you?", Hallo", let alone to strike a conversation with them. My first travel mate was Kirby, a tall big New Zealander, whom I met on the train during breakfast in the train on my way to Chiang Mai. Kirby works as a music teacher for double-bass in a high school in the countryside of New Zealand.

With tattooed arms and a towering height, Kirby can easily be mistaken as a mafia chief and someone that you should not meddle with. Walking alongside with Kirby was quite a funny experience. The Thai people will approach me first, often speaking in Thai. Kirby will go "She's not Thai", at every attempt that came across. I was joking with Kirby, that people might think that he has "gotten" me from Patpong, Thailand’s infamous red-light district. It’s a common sight in Bangkok to see “farangs” with exotic Thai girls, especially in Patpong where prostitutes freely ply their flesh to the curious and “farangs”. He said in jest, “Yah, very expensive, 1000 bahts”.

PART FIVE: 2-day-1-night White Water Rafting Expedition From Pai to Mae Hong Son

2006-11-26T21:34:00.000+08:00

Cruising the Pai River

The largest and most important river in Chiang Mai is the Ping River, which originates in the mountains of Chiang Dao and flows southward for 540 kilometres (337.5 miles). It is along the banks of this river that Chiang Mai's flat, fertile valley area lies. 2-day, 1-night rafting expeditions along the Ping River are easily available from the numerous travel agencies in Pai.

The rafting expedition includes a one-hour drive from Pai to the rafting site, 3-4 hours rafting along the Pai River on the first day, one-night stay at the bamboo hut along the riverbank, and another 4 hours of rafting along the Kong River.

Participants can choose to return to Pai after the rafting or end their expedition at Mae Hong Son, if they are keen to explore the town, catch a glimpse of the long-necked people and the infamous Lod Cave and Fish Cave. The water may not be crystal-clear, in fact, it looked more like teh su-su (tea with milk), and at certain parts of the river, bubbling teh su-su, but it was great fun cruising or rather bobbing down the river, nonetheless. We had a small group, four people, an interesting mix of people who would never have crossed paths, if not for the common passion, to venture into the unknown, through travelling.

My White-Water Rafting Mates

There's the ultra fair-skinned and super-tall 28 year-old Susie from America who works as a doctor and was on a one-week holiday after her voluntary stint in India. Sporty and caring Becky, 24, who works as a nanny in America. The family that she has been with had decided to move to another part of States and she decided to take time off to travel in Southeast Asia beforeheading back to school to study therapy. And rounded 23-year-old Justin, who could easily pass off as a 35-year-old, who is on a 2-month break from work and was planning to go Laos after Thailand. Justin works as a colourist technician in Canada.

The Raft Commander- Poo

The most important man of the expedition, our guide, 34-year-old Poo (read as Boo) has been working as a rafting guide for more than 14 years. He was an eye-candy and bears a slight resemblance to the suave Japanese actor, Takashi Sorimachi (The Beach Boys). Our petite assistant-cum-cook, who studiously whipped up delicious dishes during the trip. It was amazing how they maneuvered the raft along the choppy water, with great ease. Our feeble attempts to "combat" the rapids was great fun too, though we were sure, that they wouldn't have made much of a difference anyway.

I managed to tuck my feet in the underside of the raft and kept myself safe on the raft, but that didn't prevent me from losing my balance and taking gulps of the teh-su-su through my nose when the choppy water lapped the raft. Some of the rapids were extremely exciting, you'll feel at times, the same kind of adrenaline when you're on a roller coaster.

It’s All about Trust

By around late afternoon, we stopped at the bamboo hut by the riverbank where we would spend our night.

Here, we met Mr Potato, or so he called himself. Though he didn’t speak much English, he was a very caring and sweet host. Susie and Becky changed into their dry outfits, while I chose to take a shower along the nearby stream. Bathing with icy water by the river was quite a refreshing experience.

Mr Potato gave each of us a heavenly Thai massage after dinner when we were just chilling out and playing card games. It was a strange feeling when you lie in the arms of a 60-year-old Thai man you have met just a few hours ago on the bamboo bench, giving him the liberty to come into such close bodily contact as he stretched your tired muscles. I don’t think I have been in such close contact with my own father back in Singapore. I decided to reciprocate by giving him, what I called a Singaporean massage. I love massages and never fail to go for massages whenever I travel. After my self-proclaimed “Singaporean massage”, he turned and smiled, exposing the yellow-stained teeth, and said, “Strong fingers.” I grinned, and felt like I’ve been given a distinction in class.

After dinner came a very heavy downpour. Together with Potato and Poo, the four of us spent a mind-boggling session under the candlelight, trying to outwit one another, to instructions such as “Move three sticks to form three triangles.”The next morning, after the sumptuous breakfast, we bade farewell to kind Mr Potato, Susie gave him a bear hug and we started our “bobbing” journey along the Kong River.

PART FOUR: Chiangmai and Its Charms

2006-11-26T21:25:00.000+08:00

Heading North & Going Back to Nature

Northern Thailand is not a very popular holiday destination for Singaporeans as compared to the shopping paradise, Bangkok. Living in an urban jungle like Singapore where nature is scarce and jungles curated, Northern Thailand makes an ideal vacation destination for Singaporean families, and honeymooners alike who love the nature. Populated by many ethnic minority groups, including Akha, Lisu, Hmong, Karen, Northern Thailand exudes a tranquil charm distinctly different from its Post Besides having a good selection of eateries, you can take part in a wide range of activities, including white-water rafting, bamboo rafting, elephant riding and visit hilltribe villages and temples within close proximity.

Chiang Mai

One of Thailand’s prime tourist attractions, Chiang Mai is blessed with magnificent mountains and forests and beautiful scenery. It exudes a totally different charm from the bustling Bangkok. A large part (69.31%) of Chiang Mai's land is covered by mountains and forests.

Chiang Mai’s Night Bazaar

The Night Bazaar in eastern Chiang Mai has long been known as the epicentre of the Northern Thailand shopping experience. Walking along the rows of shops selling sourvenirs, quirky T-shirts and lighting was fun, but the more memorable part of the night bazaar was not it. Kirby and I received our first traffic summon for illegal parking of our motorcycle along the roadside of the Night Bazaar. We had to make our way to the police station and ended up having a nice chat with the police officers. The policeman shared that people born on Monday are considered lucky, as the well-respected King of Thailand is also born on Monday. Ironically, we had to pay 200 bahts as a first-time offender for the illegal parking on a Monday night.

Part THREE Tuk Tuk & Hualumphong Station

2006-11-26T21:00:00.000+08:00

Making My Way to the Hualumphong Railway Station..(Part III)

After spending one night in Bangkok, doing the usual shopping, decided that it was time to proceed to the next leg of my travel. I had initially intended to have dinner with my sister, Daisy and my travelmate, Christine, before heading for the last night train to Chiangmai, which was scheduled to depart at 10.30pm.

The “happy” receptionist at my guesthouse kindly assisted me to call the railway station to check on the availability of the tickets. As the 10.30pm train was fully booked, I had to catch the 7.30pm train if I wanted to leave from Chiang Mai that evening. While waiting for her to make the call, I chanced upon many happy Thai men and their western partners, going in and out of the apartment.

I left my friend, Christine, who was completely knocked out by her flu medication, in the gay-infested Silom hotel room with a short note, called my sister to cancel our dinner appointment and made my way to the Hualumphong train station.

Taking the Tuk-Tuk

It’s a great way to feel the pulse of Bangkok in a tuk-tuk, but your guard has to be constantly up. The tuk-tuk drivers are often not trustworthy, though super-friendly.

The Hualumpong Station was only three stops from Silom and costs a mere 17 bahts.
Blur as ever, I walked towards the wrong direction to the Silom Station, and had to seek help from a nearby seller along the pavement. She couldn’t speak a word of English and asked a nearby tuk tuk driver for assistance. The driver then got another driver to start the bargaining business with me. As I was running short of time, I decided to take the tuk-tuk instead of finding my way to the train station. “100 bahts” was the starting price, offered by the tuk tuk driver. I halved it to 50 bahts to the Hualumphong train station.

After 15 minutes of driving around the roads, the English-illiterate driver stopped the tuk-tuk at Silom station, smiled, at said “Silom Station.” Expecting him to send me to the Hualampong station, I was flabbergasted. “No, this is Silom Station, I was just across the street on the other side of the road.” With a wide grin, he pointed at the signboard at the station, and said, “Silom Station, with a wider grin and added, Hualumpong Station, far, far.” I was not willing to part with my 50 bahts to the dishonest driver. I grabbed my big haversack and my small day-pack in a swift move, put 10 bahts near the driver’s steering wheel, and said, “ok, 10 bahts,” and ran down the escalator, fleeing away from my predator like a frightened rabbit, for fear that he would give chase.

I bought my 17-baht ticket at the Silom train station and went to the platform to await my train. I was greeted by long queues of Thai people and foreign travellers who are patiently waiting for their tickets at the Hualumpong Railway Station. There are several classes that one can choose from, depending on your budget. The Overnight sleeper compartments are clean, comfortable and you’ll get to save on one-night accommodation. The overnight sleeper train with air-conditioning (2nd class) costs 771 bahts for the upper deck of the sleeper bed, you’ll need to pay a little more if you choose the lower deck to be further from the corridor lights. It takes about 12 hours to go by train from Bangkok to Chiangmai. You can have a good night’s sleep and by morning, wah la, you are already in Chiangmai.

Most Singaporeans often flock to Bangkok to do their shopping and indulge in the 199-baht purchases at Siam Square and Mah Boon Kong. I've been to Bangkok about six times but I’ve never ventured beyond the shopping districts. This time I’m determined to see more of Northern Thailand than the shopping malls. I’m going back to the nature.

PART TWO: Venturing in Bangkok and Heading Up North

2006-11-26T20:01:00.000+08:00

Venturing In Bangkok & Heading Up North

After the three-hour flight on the Jet-star plane, we landed in Thailand’s spanking-new airport, Suwanapoom Airport. It was the second day of the airport’s operations. Though the military coup had ended, the person who mooted the airport still couldn’t come home. Just two weeks before my trip, pictures of the tanks and armed soldiers outside the Prime Minister’s office splashed across the papers and broadcast media in Singapore and around the world. Thailand was declared a state of emergency when the military forces took over the Prime Minister’s authority when he was overseas. Fortunately, the king, the most well-respected figure in Thailand gave his blessing to the coup and peace was restored, at least on the surface.

Thaksin had spent millions on this airport, but now, he would probably not be able to see the fruit of his labour in the near future. I’m determined to find out from the Thai people what they thought of Thaksin and the coup. My colleagues were joking with me, “You better not tell people in Northern Thailand that you’re Singaporean, because they are very supportive of Thaksin. They would probably beat you up.”

Two “Happy” Dazes in Bangkok

Christine and I took the 150-baht shuttle bus from the airport to Silom. Christine’s uncle had highly recommended us staying in Regent Apartments. Accommodation in Silom is generally more expensive than other backpackers’ area, as it is right smacked in the red light district, Patpong. When we found the apartments, we realized why her uncle suggested two single gals to stay there. Not because it has extra-ordinary facilities or super-friendly staff, but because we will be ultra safe there as nobody will even take notice of us in this part of the redlight district where the gay community were and gay nightspots plentiful.

Staying in Silom is great as it offers you an interesting glimpse of the ever-prospering night life of Bangkok. We had a really fun time stuffing our faces with the delicacies of the roadside stalls, watching the gay people flirting with one another, and Thai women making advances at the “farangs”. Christine and I were amusingly entertained by a sexy 30-over-year-old Thai prostitute and her Western man, who was in his mid 50s at a coffee house. The woman’s palms were all over the man’s chest, toying with his chest hair and the man’s face was unfazed. It must have taken a lot of determination for her western client to remain or at least pretend to be unaffected by her numerous caresses. 10 minutes later, they left the coffee-house, and the rest was free for imagination.

We also went to another night bazaar, Suan Lom, with my sister and her colleague, who happened to be in Bangkok on a business trip. Suan Lom Night Market is the night version of ChatuChak Market, but a lot neater and less crowded. There is also a huge fairy’s wheel and a great variety of eateries and restaurants. It’s existence is threatened as the Thai government has plans to close the market and use the land for other development.

PART ONE: My First Solo Adventure to Northern Thailand (30 September to 14 October 2006)

2006-11-26T19:45:00.000+08:00

10 days off work. 14 days in Northern Thailand.

This is my first solo adventure trip on my own, thanks to my friend, Christine, who dropped a bombshell on me five days before our trip, telling me that she had to change her booked flight to Thailand to 2 days instead of 2 weeks for a work trip to Manila. I was thrown into few choices, One- Postpone the trip, Two- Find a new partner, Three-Cancel the trip and Last- Go on my own. I debated these options and decided I really needed a break.

The decision was made.

I’ll venture to Northern Thailand on my own. Many “What If” scenerios surfaced in my head, what if I drop my passport and can’t get my way back, what if I get burglared in the room while we were sleeping like in Nepal?, “What if the guesthouse I’m staying in is haunted?...All these “What If” thoughts lingered in my brain but they remained very much as haunting thoughts, as the trip date neared.Going on my own for the first time, I felt the tingling sensation and a sense of fear and uncertainty, the same feeling I used to get during the wee hours of the morning before the examinations, trying to cramp all the last-minute information into the malfunctioning brain.

Getting Ready to Set Off

It was a frantic day at work the day before I left for this trip. The Museum hosted the The Art of Cartier exhibition opening at very evening, with Minister Lee Boon Yang as the Guest-of-Honour. By the time the event ended, it was already 10pm. At 3am, I was still frantically typing my hand-over list in the office.

My flight was at 9.20am the very next morning. Dead-beaten, I hailed for a cab just outside the museum at about 3.15am. The driver said, “strange to come out of the Museum at this time, hor.” I replied, “yah.”, too tired to strike a conversation with the driver by then. “Where you want to go?”, the driver asked. “93, Stamford Road,” I replied without much thought. “Huh?”, the driver said. I realized my mistake, I had given him the Museum’s address, instead of my home address. “It’s very scary if that is really your address”, he joked. The old Museum has often been associated by many Singaporeans as a spooky place where old items are stored, and owners of these items, long-deceased people’s spirits lingered.“Sorry, sorry”, I apologized, “It’s Serangoon Avenue 4.”

I reached home at 3.40am and started on my half-filled backpack. By the time I finished it was already 4.30am. It was only about one hour before I head for the airport. Eager to rest my tired mind and feeble limbs, I decided to nap, even if this was only for that short time.