No yellow shirt… (part 1)

I had no yellow shirt. I went for Bersih 3.0 in my old white shirt, my old little digital camera & a small light knapsack filled with water and some cookies & cakes. I didn’t make them, but got it off a hotel and my first thought was that I’ll attend the rally and give these to the officers.

The day before the rally, someone told me that I should know what I am marching for. That this is about a clean and fair elections march. Of course I know, but I am also marching because I wanted to see how the people are in such a huge gathering. I regret missing the previous rally so this made me determined to go for it, especially when things in the country did not really improve but in fact got progressively worst.

Another colleague told me not to go, but that I should pray to God for change in the country. For half an hour, while we were waiting to attend to some high profile clients, she preached to me about stories in the Bible, how David only became king when God deemed him ready (and quite a number of other examples). “So there’s no need to go, just stay home and pray.”

I told her that I will pray, but my prayers are different from hers. I pray through action. There’s a saying that goes, God moves only when I move. So I am doing exactly that. Her concern mustn’t be equated to cowardice, it’s just that her views are different from mine, but our wants are the same.

After work, I packed up and moved out. Walking with strangers was a little bit lonely at first. One of my online contacts was suppose to meet me at a designated spot but he left much earlier due to some other reason. Anyway, the loneliness dissipated when we started talking to one another. We were all headed in the same direction and we know what the purpose is for in our hearts. And we know that we are not alone from then onwards.

The chants were louder as we approached the corner of Maybank and Kota Raya. Overhead, the Rapid LRT trains rumbled past and I felt the ground shake with the voices of the thousands of participants slowly making their way to the Dataran Merdeka (Independence Square). Everyone was chanting “Bersih! Bersih! Bersih! Bersih!” (clean! clean! clean! clean!) simultaneously in a steady rhythm. That was when I lost myself in the crowd and met even more people.

Somewhere in the mass, some one with a loudspeaker prodded the chanting along, spirits were high and everyone smiled easy. Whenever the march halted, people sat down and looked at one another and smiled. At many points, it’s worthy to note that most stood where they were as there wasn’t any free space to even sit on.  Many came with friends, family, father carrying their little ones on their shoulders, loved ones – couples holding hands as they moved onward, and some alone but still in the midst of like-minded citizens. Whenever we stopped, people would drink from their own water bottles, chat happily with anyone, and adjusted their caps to the bright sunlight, or took pictures of the massive crowd… and one student in front of me went around passing his share of Mentos sweets to anyone who would accept it.

Interesting posters...

Somewhere in the crowd, a very angry looking man, pushed forward shouting hateful anti-government statements coupled with foul language and punching his right fist into the air while doing so. Everyone around him looked at him like he did not belong and no one wanted to be near him. Where he went with his anti-government slogans, the people created a bubble around him, clearly indicating that they didn’t think much of him. We’re here for free & fair elections, it isn’t about toppling the government and/or wanting any minister dead. His angry shouting gave me a nauseous feeling and I went ahead quickly to avoid the noise he was making, all the while wishing somehow somewhere someone would remove him from the streets.

Two over-sized inflated yellow balls were being bounced around above our heads as rally goers gleefully joined in the fun to get the ball rolling from one end of the crowd to the other.

My aim was to reach the barrier where the Dataran Merdeka was blocked off. I have been at that square countless times during my work and it has always been used for so many different types of occasions, and most (in my personal opinion) were meaningless and a huge waste of money, not to mention unpatriotic. So it’s annoying to me why the authorities would not just permit the protestors to just sit on it, make their protests known, and then everyone can just go home in time for tea and/or a movie without fuss.

Hello there foreigners

As I went along, I made a note. It took me 15 minutes just to get from Kota Raya to the Burger King just before the Masjid Jamek LRT stations by walking. That’s how crowded it was. Foreign visiting tourists were seen on the rooftops of the Reggae Mansion, taking pictures and pointing into the sea of yellow and green below them. Were they prepared for what was to happen next?

Just as I was about to take a different direction in order to get to the barrier faster, I walked right into another man who instantly gave me the oddest feeling that I know him very well.

When he looked at me, it took him a few seconds before his eyes registered. Once recognition set in, we were shaking hands in the midst of the chanting crowd and catching up with what we were doing. He was my lecturer from when I was still a student in college, and he had taught us creative thinking, using our right brains, problem solving and even soul searching at one point when topics in class touched on religion.  In short, this man taught us how to think for ourselves.

“Are you here alone today?” he asked. Well yeah, but it didn’t feel too lonely actually. Everyone was having too good a time to actually feel lonely. But he could tell I was on my own. “It’s good you are here.” His eyes shone as he said this. He had purposely come all the way from Kedah (a many hours long way north of this city) to attend this rally & give his support to a cause he believes in. He held my hand for one last time and told me how happy he was to see me attending the rally, and then he was off to search for his wife somewhere behind the crowd.

Excited, I quickly fished out my phone and wanted to tell a very good friend of mine (who had the biggest crush on this once-lecturer when we were still studying together). I wanted to tell her I saw Mohd A. (not going to name him in full) and that it’s a shame she isn’t with me. The lines seemed jammed up. I couldn’t tweet, message or even make a call out. Because of this, I decided to just move forward as quickly as possible without wasting time. My aim was to see the barriers the police had setup which some of my friends ahead of me said were set up like a war zone.

As I neared the corner of the Magistrate Court and almost about to reach the main road overlooking the Merdeka Square, the chants had changed to “Buka! Buka! Buka!” (open! open! open!). This went on for a while and then there was a pause to the chants. As I made my way forward, more and more people were making their way back. Someone to my right asked one of these retreating people what was happening, one of the men said, “It’s over, there’s nothing more to see. We are going home.” When he said that, the people who heard him looked thoughtful and some actually turned back and followed the retreating line.

That first line of white smoke from my point of view.

That was when we first caught a glimpse of a single line of thick white smoke flying into the crowd. In a few more seconds, more lines of white smoke were seen flying into the same direction of the crowd in front of us as more began retreating.

Then the first shouts of panic broke through as we felt the effects of the tear gas and screams were heard on all directions from both men and women.

Upcoming Event

In about 2 more weeks, my life will be turned upside down with the arrival of hundreds of golf agents. They will be coming here for their Asia-Pacific golfing convention and being part of the events team makes it almost a 24 hour job, plus taking on a few more responsibilities in which I have not done previously. So yeah, this is a big thing for me and it’s lately occupying my mind a lot.

There are so much of details and scopes to look into, and frankly, although it scares the crap out of me, it’s also immensely exciting. Assigned under me will be several juniors, in which I hope to set a good example for. Yes, my first time leading a team this big.

It’s a blessing that this entire month is looking quite busy with work, and yet none will disturb my Saturday classes. When the boss mentioned that I should keep my schedule for May – July open for more possible side projects, I am suddenly reeling back from it all. Has the New Year gone by so fast? Goodness! Before I know it, it’ll be the end of 2012~ I had better write more in order to keep track of time!

 

Babi Guling!

Besides the famous Bebek Bengil, a dish served with roast duck and an assortment of dishes, the Balinese are also famous for another dish – the Babi Guling! As Nasi Lemak is to Malaysians a famous local dish, so is the Babi Guling dish to the Balinese Hindus. Now why the Babi Guling (roast pork)? Well, mostly because I had not had the chance to have this meal for over 5 years despite so many visits.

During one such working visit, while waiting for available units in a site inspection to some villas, the property’s representative took time out to have a babi guling meal with me. Always trust a local to bring you to the best eating spots. He took me to a small corner stall called “Warung Babi Guling Pak Malen” located along Jl. Sunset Road No.5 in Seminyak, Kuta. There are many others located all around Bali, but I am mentioning this because it’s the one we went to (and it’s another spot for you, my dear reader, to check it out if you wish).

When we had arrived, I noticed a group of Singaporean Chinese cleaning up their plates and drinks inside the stall. Besides them, there were also a couple of westerners at a corner amongst the many local Balinese people who were there for that one meal.

There really are no other meals served except babi guling. The only choice I have was whether I want it spicy or non spicy. I suppose the other choice I have would be how many types of pork meat I wish to have with my meal. I told my host that I’ll have the regular, whatever the Balinese are having, and in the regular portion. The meal came with a bowl of (you guessed it) pork soup, although I did order a cup of locally grown lime juice.

As Malaysians, we’re mostly spoiled for choice when it comes to food in our own home country. Various dishes are served in every part of Malaysia and most with localized flavors to suit the many demands of our multi-cultural and multi-ethnic peoples. Bali in itself retains its own flavors and serves dishes moderately as per how the locals like it. Many a Chinese tourist would usually complain how it’s not “tasty” or whatnot, but in my own humble opinion, the Chinese have their own way of preparing pork and Balinese have theirs. Respectfully, my advice to travelers would be to savor the local dish as it is made locally for it is not catered specially for the tastes of tourists.

Kecak Ramayana & Fire Dance in Uluwatu

Despite being in Bali numerous times (mostly for work), I have not had the time to truly see the sights up until recently. And one of my dearest wish was to be able to watch some of the cultural knick-knacks and performances available within this beautiful island.

On top of my list is the Barong Dance. There are several venues for this dance located in various spots around the island, but none are truly the genuine dances. According to the local Hindus, the true Barong performance is only held during a holy and religious day of celebration depending on their Hindu calendar. And each Barong dance performance differs in depiction of characters according to its territory or region. I asked about getting this calendar and was told that one can get it easily from some of the groceries or other places of commerce as a souvenir or gift, but the real Hindu calendar used by the Balinese Hindus can only be gotten from the Hindu priests themselves. I decided to wait for that chance instead of getting one that is just decorative.

Since both these are temporarily out of the list at the moment, my next best bet is the Kecak performance. Again, there are several of these said Kecak dances found all around Bali, but the most complete and most genuine Kecak dance can be found at the famous Uluwatu temple site. When I asked my guide what he meant by the most “complete” and “genuine”, he said that he has seen many, and some of the other performances skips a certain chapter of the story, making it incomplete. “Sometimes a part of the story is not told,” he said, as we sat by a gift shop’s side stairs, eating this delicious chicken sate made by a local Balinese vendor who barbeques the sate on the spot.

Towards the evening, there will be a small stall selling "sate" cooked on the spot opposite the parking lot. One can get 10 sticks for as cheap as Rp. 15.000. In other areas, you can even get them for Rp. 10.000! Super yummy!

“Then there are some others which do not feature Hanuman.” Incase you’re unaware; Hanuman is the colorful & mischievous Monkey God, a character which is just as fascinating on its own. Once we were done with the sate (which was absolutely delicious by the way – and this is coming from a person who lives in a town famous for its sates!), we made our way to the temple site.

The ticket counter is located to the south side of the Uluwatu temple, where a table area is manned by several vendors in traditional Balinese “uniform”. Stacks and stacks of tickets are placed upon its table with names of groups written on it, indicating booked tickets for groups of tourists. The stage is located on the southern end, which is not hard to miss, especially when the chanting starts. A single entry costs Rp.70,000.

“Everyday, the seats are full,” my guide said. A brief glance at the parking lot on the northern end will tell anyone that despite its maximum capacity, tour buses are still flowing in, following a stream of vans and private cars. I followed him quickly up the path as he tried to get me a good seat. “Seating capacity at its maximum is for 300 viewers.” 300 people only? Even though full to the brim, and out of sitting places, most tourists are still content to stand or sit by the side until it spills over to the stage area a little. I was warned not to be too close as the fire dance act will not be so enjoyable in that sense.

For those who are unfamiliar with the Kecak Ramayana & Fire Dance, it was originally developed in the 1930’s by a German artist by the name of Walter Spies for a film. Spies was fascinated with the “sanghyang” or ‘chorus of the sacred trance dance’ and combined it with the sound of chattering from crowds of men crouched over cockfight events. With this combination, he developed it with a local Balinese dancer, Wayan Limbak, to produce this performance. From there, it took off as one of the best cultural dance performances in Bali. Safe to say, this development is considered quite new and very successful.

The Kecak begins just before sunset at 18:00 hrs, against a beautiful backdrop of the sea and sun at one end, and a sea of trees on the other. The spectators sit in a circle of ascending wooden chairs constructed to surround a small circular floor stage.

Kecak Ramayana

Once the performance started, everyone was mesmerized. In order to not spoil potential visitors’ fun, I will not elaborate the story, but rest assured, once you go for the performance, each person is given a piece of paper explaining each act from the Ramayana. Moving to the rhythm of the trance-like “Kecak! Kecak! Kecak!”chanting by a group of men surrounding the play, the actors and actresses carried out the act with fluid body movements, complete with facial expressions to tell the viewers of their feelings. There is not much dialog, mostly the rhythm of the chants which gives the story its flow. Delighting the crowd is the random emergence of Hanuman, the magical white monkey, who causes mischief and laughter amongst viewers as part of the show.

Fire Dance : Hanuman kicks up a riot in the act

The entire Kecak Ramayana & Fire Dance show takes up a solid one hour. By the time it was over, it was dark all around us but smiles aplenty on the faces of satisfied customers. For those who think it might be a little too expensive, rest assured, it’s not. The quality of the performance and energy depicted by the performers is a memory you would want to bring home with you. Even if you’ll be late for dinner, try not to miss this performance when you’re visiting Uluwatu in the evening. I for one would not mind going for it again, only the next time, I’ll not forget the insect repellent!

Notebook scan on Xi’an, China

Rice cakes doodle

Some of my notes from my recent trip back from Xi’an, China. The trip was enjoyable and an eye-opener. The Chinese there are so… well, different. I have a feeling I’ll adapt faster in Thailand than in China.

There are many more pages of the travel journal but there’s quite a lot of things to do right now to really keep up with my notes. I’ll come back to it when I have more time.

By the way, I use the medium Moleskine Cahiers for my travel notes, a Faber Castell TRUE GEL 0.5mm S-Fine pen (beautiful ink!) for writing & a Pilot FRICTION 0.5mm (brown ink) for sketches / doodles. For other notes, I would usually prefer Field Notes brand.

Been busy

While I have been away on assignments and lots of traveling for work, everything is changing and again, I am reminded to update as much as I can. I will try though. I find the art of “notebook-ing” so much more fun than blogging and killing my eyes looking at the computer screen. Eventhough technology makes it easy for us to upload digital pictures and publish articles straight away, I find myself leaning away to traditional writing and polaroid pictures instead too! Everyone is moving forward and I am moving backward! Yikes!

How many times have I promised to change this? Numerous. Okay, no promises, I shall do my very best.

Taipei : National Palace Museum

It has always been my opinion that if a country can showcase their history properly in a museum, it’ll pretty much reflect on how the entire country is being run.

That being said, once I got to my free day, I immediately got up early in the morning, breakfasted and rushed out to get onto the MRT to get to Shilin MRT station, hopped onto a taxi which got me to the bottom of the stairs of the famous National Palace Museum in 10 minutes. Already my perception of the local population has given rise my respect to them, I was anxious to see how their museums would look like.

The driver, a middle aged man tried to start a friendly conversation despite my limited knowledge of Mandarin, but we managed to communicate nevertheless. According to him, he usually gets a lot of fares from Singaporeans and Malaysians, so he was happy to have yet another Malaysian in his taxi. From all these friendly talk, he told me that people who look like me usually would follow the bus tours in groups. He has no idea how close his guess was, the only difference – I am usually leading the group.

National Palace Museum, Taipei

Once arrived, I thanked the driver kindly and began my ascend to the “palace”. The museum is said to be modeled after a typical Chinese palace, thus the name. While standing outside, marveling at the enormous gate, I was approached by some activist who went on talking to me like I understood the cause. It was only when he realised that I looked lost that he slowed down and asked me where I am from.

“Ooh! Malaysia. We have many tourists from Malaysia coming here,” he said in Mandarin. Nod and smile “You my want help?I’ll help you take a picture,” he offered. No, thanks. I don’t like my own touristy pictures. He kept smiling though, “You came on your own?” Affirmative. “Oh~,” he mused, looking at me with… respect? “Very good and brave of you to come alone!”

As I climbed up the stairs to the main exhibition hall’s entrance, I wondered what the activist meant.