WOOF! WOOF! WOOF!

AWWWWWWWWW!!!

This adorable little munchkin is the latest addition to the Pourtauborde family. He is also the source of many sleepless nights for Xav and I.

Three weeks ago, Xav and I decided to go puppy-hunting. Nearly every house in our neighbourhood has a dog (some, even up to three!!), and after the dog-bite incident, I really felt like I needed my own kick-ass dog (I got nipped by a neighbour’s dog while on an evening walk). We were looking for a proper breed, like Labradors (Xav’s favourite) or Golden Retrievers (my favourite), but they are difficult to get here. The popular dog breeds on this island are all of a vicious temperament – Rottweiler, Dobermann, Pitbull.

I didn’t want a dog that could later become aggressive or vicious, though Xav maintains that it is the dog owners that turn the dogs vicious and that with proper training, all dogs are nice creatures – yep, even mean-looking Dobermanns! Anyway, we looked through the ads, and all only had the above-mentioned breeds. So, we tried to look for puppies in pet shops instead.

Can you believe that there is no pet shop in Tahiti that sells dogs or puppies?!? We learned this from one store that told us to look for puppies in veterinary clinics. In Malaysia, you wouldn’t even think to look there! We tried a number of vets, and they didn’t have anything for us. We took down some numbers from the ads posted there though and also left our number in case anything came up.

We nearly had one puppy – a German Shepherd-Rottweiler mix – but we were too late as the last two were given away already. One lady even had seven puppies, all of which were given away within two days – for an island with only 180,000 population, it is amazing how quickly these puppies were adopted!

Last Saturday morning, we received a call to look at two puppies – here the breed is called berger tahitien, which simply means a mongrel from Tahiti :D We rushed over excitedly, and though they were cute, they were simply not screaming, ‘Take me home with you!’. Xav found it a bit disconcerting that I didn’t twist his arm to bring home one of those two puppies. I couldn’t explain it, but I didn’t feel that enthusiastic about them – let’s just call it a sixth sense.

We went home a little grumpy, and he called up another lady whose ad we had seen in all the veterinary clinics from Papeete all the way to Punauuia (a good 15 km stretch!). We expressed our interest and she invited us over later that evening.

We had no trouble finding her house, and our arrival was cheerfully greeted by a loping dog – the mama – who sniffed curiously at us, wagged her tail in welcome, and proudly led us to her pups. Xav and I followed her and her owner into the garden.

Lo and behold! There sat four plump bundles of joy, waddling after our feet and bumping into everything all over the place. Mama apparently had 12 puppies more than a month ago – the owner kept 6 and the rest had to be put to sleep at the vet’s advice. We spotted two black and brown male, short-furred pups – one dark black and the other a softer, black-grey ball of fur. Another two were female pups – small in size but just as cute. All of a sudden, the owner lifted a fifth puppy! – this hefty-looking sleepy fella from behind her vases.

Almost immediately, I fell in love with him! He was SOOOO adorable, all plump, sleepy, furry, colourful, with floppy ears and big paws. This little guy was five weeks old only, and yet, he was tough, and according to the owner, the leader of the litter. If I had any doubts about that last statement, I only need to look at the size difference – he was literally bigger and taller than all the other pups. Mama was one-eighth Labrador and papa was half German Shepherd, so it wasn’t a surprise to see that he’d taken on the colours and fur of the German Shepherd and the size of both types of dogs.

With some hesitation (because we felt like taking all five home actually!), we finally decided on this fifth puppy. We dropped by Carrefour on the way home to pick up some puppy chow, toys and collar, and then returned home excitedly to play with our little one.

Xav and I argued all the way home about naming this furball. We needed a name that was both French and English, especially in pronunciation. I liked Zeus – it sounded smart and royal, but the way Xav pronounced it was so French, so we canned that name! (in all probability, Xav will argue that I mispronounced it :P). We wanted a short name with two syllables and not something that was common or popular.

There is this thing in France (we just discovered that it was French, and not something other countries did) where each year, an alphabet will be selected for the names of dogs. Since our pup was born in 2005, the alphabet was ‘A’. We looked at a long list of really weird names, and we settled on ‘Alto’. It was certainly pronounced the same way in English and French, it was short with two syllables, and it represents the lowest voice and is important in making the harmony of the music.

So Alto it is.

Since then, all our focus has been on Alto. We made a cute ‘kennel’ for him out of an unused small cupboard-like cabinet, we created all sorts of toys (we made one out of tying the ends of socks together), and literally just showered him with love and attention. Every other day, Xav and I read up on the internet on how to train puppies to pee-poop in the right place, to stop them whining, etc etc. We gave him a bath, since he had those little hopping fleas. We played with him (truly, having a pup is good exercise!) and we took him to the beach.



Socialization is a key thing to prevent dogs from becoming fearful and aggressive. Since we didn’t know many different people / animals (children, women, men, puppies, dogs, cats, etc) with whom / which we could socialize Alto, Xav and I have decided to make the beach as a place for Alto to do this effectively.

At the beach last week he met a Rottweiler, who was gentle and curious. The one-year old (he’s huge isn’t he?) dog sniffed Alto thoroughly while Alto just sniffed back politely. We read that training puppies is best in the first four to six months of its life – after this, it would be rather difficult to re-train him. Though Alto was only five weeks, Xav and I have already started to train him on things that matter, like pee-poop, not barking or whining, not biting too vigorously, etc.

Xav fenced a certain area of our huge garden as Alto’s pee-poop place, and so far, Alto has been going there for all his little business (which is getting bigger as the days go by!). Since Saturday though, Xav and I have not been sleeping well. Every night except last night, Alto had been whining and giving short little gruffy barks, for a variety of reasons from wanting us to bring him to pee-poop to playing with him at 4am!

Xav and I took turns seeing to his needs, and we are trying to devise strategies (with Alto, we need strategies more than just simple ways!) of keeping Alto asleep during the night. We kept him from sleeping too much during the day, played with him a lot (which means we get tired and sweaty too) and fed him a lot a little later at night. Last night, for whatever reason, he did not wake us up until close to 6am. Even then, he only whined a small whine for a valid reason – he had wanted to pee on the grass and his long leash was entangled, which prevented him from reaching the grassy area.

He was so good that we rewarded him by bringing him into our bedroom, which, in doggy lingo, is the ultimate reward for ultimate good behaviour! Right now, he is banned from coming into the house as he pee-ed on the floor when he wasn’t being observed. We want to give him a few days to forget he did that, before allowing him limited entry into our house again.

Life has been tremendously exciting and rewarding with Alto’s presence in the house. Xav and I don’t get much free time to be alone together, as Alto goes ape when Xav comes home from work, forcing Xav to play with him all the time. During the day, I play with him, leaving me rather tired and drained by the time Xav comes home. I manage dinner and then fall asleep watching TV! It’s like we have a baby, for God’s sake! Definitely good training for us, at least, if and when the real baby comes (not for this year, at least, people, so don’t ask!).

People say that a dog is a man’s best friend, but for Xav and I, Alto is definitely more – he is family! :D

CLICK! & Enlarge

Dear friends & loyal readers of my blog:

As a newbie to blogging, I have just recently learnt this - CLICK! on the photos and you'll be able to see their enlarged versions. For the sake of clarity and to give your eyes a rest from squinting, do try this so that you are able to enjoy the view as much as possible.

Thanks people!

Bora Bora, L’Ile du Paradis

One does not need a French dictionary or an advanced level of French to understand what this means. This little island of paradise was indeed the perfect romantic setting for my second honeymoon.

I had arrived in Tahiti at midnight on Wednesday, 13 December 2005. After more than a day of flying and transits from KL to Tahiti, I was really looking forward to holding my hubby in my arms after a month-long separation. It was rainy, windy and cold – certainly not good weather for welcoming tourists to the island! When I landed, I was glad to finally see the last of airports for a long while.

[Little did I know that Xav had planned a surprise for me.]

Over dinner that Friday night, I suggested to Xav for us to visit Mo’orea that weekend. Mo’orea is an island situated just about 30 minutes by ferry from Papeete. Xav somehow seemed reluctant to go, but did not divulge his reasons, so I dropped the idea, assuming he must be tired from work that week. As we sat down to dinner, he placed an envelope before me.

Inside were flight tickets and hotel reservations for two to Bora Bora! Apparently, two weeks before my arrival, Xav had booked this trip as a second honeymoon-cum-birthday present for me. I was SOOO surprised and thrilled to be going to an island reputed to be the most beautiful place on this Earth.

So, just four days after my arrival in Tahiti, we lugged our one-piece shared luggage to Faa’a International Airport. This time the weather was sunny, humid and extremely hot with little or no wind blowing through the terminal area. It was Saturday morning and everyone was traveling somewhere. Our line to check-in for the flight to Bora Bora was terribly long, filled with tourists pushing trolleys of luggage. I mean, seriously, how much do you need for a weekend on an island? One swimsuit, a hat, a pair of shorts, a couple of t-shirts, a good book and lots of sunblock!

By the time we boarded our plane, it was time for take-off. There were no seating arrangements, so we chose to sit on the right side of the cabin. 45 minutes later, we craned our necks to the ooohs and aaahs we were hearing from the left side of the cabin. The aerial view of Bora Bora was 80% big heads and curled hair, and 20% dots of greenery – oh well, we chose our seats badly!

Upon our arrival, we were given garlands of jasmine flowers to wear around our necks. It took about another 30 minutes or more to arrive at Sofitel Motu. I thought that Xav had booked us into a normal hotel room, but NO, he had reserved us an overwater bungalow on a private island! Thank God for the passion and romanticism of the French! :D

Check-in was warm and hospitable. First, we were offered a huge coconut drink. It looked sooo typically tropical – a BIG coconut (seriously, bigger than those in Malaysia) with a small opening at the top, from which stemmed a brightly-coloured hibiscus and a striped straw. A plump little Tahitian lady came up to explain to us the services available on this private little island. Then she left us to fill in the necessary forms while sipping our cool coconut drink.
There was one thing missing from the coconut though – a spoon. Having sipped the very last juices out of the coconut, Xav and I decided to pick at its flesh. I got up the nerve to ask the plump little lady: ‘Est-ce que vous pouvez me donner deux cuilleres, si’l vous plait?’, only to receive a long reply on how difficult it was to pick the flesh off the coconut, etc etc. I managed to convince her (or confuse her) with my French until she relented. With a doubtful look on her face, she handed me two spoons.

We were shown to our bungalow right after, Xav and I trailing behind our hostess, our coconuts grasped securely under our arms and spoons sticking out of our pockets. The bungalow was 100% made of wood with thick dried coconut leaves fastened together to make a roof. It stood directly in the sea water and we sighted several brown shadows of corals. The clear waters wrinkled once in a while to allow a school of fish to swim back and forth.

In spite of its primitive shell, the interior of the bungalow was all modern – air-conditioning, ceiling fan, rain shower, TV, electric kettle, king-sized bed with oh-so-fluffy pillows and soft blankets. In addition, we had a little balcony with a folded wooden table and two chairs, which faced the open sea. There was also an extension off the side of the balcony, where two chaise lounge chairs sat, the attached long cushions inviting us to lie down and just bask in the wonderful warmth of the sunlight. Leading down further from these chairs was a steel ladder right into the waters below our bungalow.

We did not hesitate even an instant! We hurriedly put on our swimsuits, climbed down the ladder and immediately soaked ourselves in the cool clear green waters. There were schools of fishes swimming around our feet and bodies. Here, on this paradise island, you can truly be at one with nature.

Xav and I frolicked in the waters for a while, then lied down on the chaise lounge chairs to fall asleep to the quiet sounds of lapping seawater beneath our bungalow. Hours later, we decided to move out of the bungalow (trust me, this takes a lot of effort!) to go for a walk along the little trails on the island. We reached the tip of the island, which led to a little lagoon hidden away from the open sea. Later we found out that this place was actually ‘Le Jardin de Corailles’ (The Coral Garden), a popular place for snorkeling.

Here we saw plenty of crabs – big black ones, scampering about sideways as they heard our footsteps closing in on them. There was one crab in particular, beige-pink in colour, which, instead of wearing a shell as its mobile home, chose a piece of pink plastic bottlecap. Xav asked me to lift it by its ‘shell’, and I did, only to have the crab crawl quickly out of its home in a blind panic. It dropped onto the rock and scurried away into hiding under some rocks. I felt SOOOO guilty about chasing this crab out of its home.

We waited patiently for it to come out. Xav picked up the pink plastic bottlecap and set it down close to the crab when it finally braved itself to venture out from under the rocks. Much to our surprise, the crab slowly and methodically crawled backwards into the cap, and having secured itself inside, began to move back towards the water!

It was close to sunset when we walked back to our bungalow. We took some aerial shots of our little island hut and of course, of the red-orange-yellow hues as the sun set. That night, we took a boat out across the island, to a sister hotel called Novotel. This main island had many local restaurants where the food is more reasonably priced than those at the hotels. Right after dinner, we took the boat back to our little island. It had been a long day.

We didn’t do much on the second day. We rose late in the morning, took a long swim in the water and an even longer nap out on the terrace. Finally we decided to take the boat across to Novotel again. We took a walk to a beach bar which had huge shady coconut trees and comfortable seats right on the shore itself. Xav and I ordered a pina colada - I felt that it was time we drank another typical tropical drink.

Actors in movies featuring scenes on tropical islands are always sipping this drink, with little umbrellas sticking out of their tall glasses. Staring far out into the ocean before us, Xav and I had a serious and rather solemn conversation about the world, religion, science, etc. There was an aura in the air that necessitated this discussion - you know, when you are in the presence and in awe of the great big creation before you, you tend to ask yourself 'deep' questions!



After a long talk which ended just as solemnly as it began, Xav and I took a stroll back to Novotel. This time we had dinner right in the hotel restaurant itself. It was not as expensive as we’d thought actually. Dinner was later accompanied by a Tahitian dance and fire show. Xav and I were pulled out to dance. All of my pictures dancing were blur no thanks to Xav! But his picture is here and is a clear example of how the dancers looked like and what we were doing :D


The fire show was impressive too. The photos here are a bit dark – those with the flash were not very natural. After this night show, we went back to our bungalowfor another early night. We had big plans on Monday morning.

Monday morning was another bright and windy day. The night before, we had decided to go over to Club Med and take advantage of their promotion – buffet lunch + all water activities for 4600 CFP per person (roughly translates to less than 46 Euros). We decided to do some sailing. Of course, I’d never done it, but Xav has, and he assured me that it would be easy. Indeed it was, and I actually sailed! :D

We went all the way to the coral reef, and could see the waves crashing ever so violently against it. We couldn’t go closer though because there were too many corals (the French call them ‘patates’ or potatoes) to sail through, and we might hit or scrape some of them. The waters were unbelieveably clear – crystal green all the way through. We stopped sail at one point, and took turns taking a swim in the water. I wasn’t so confident swimming at sea yet, so I held on tightly to the long rope that anchored me to the sailboat. We sailed for nearly two hours, then retired to a huge buffet lunch!

It was incredible! Now that I’ve become a Pourtauborde, I eat like one too :D There were all sorts of food, from smoked salmon all the way to devilish desserts like creamy chocolate cake with rich chocolate sauce. We had everything there – the salmon, the raw tuna, the cheeses, the meats, prawns, the list was endless.

We had had some after-lunch activities planned – like snorkeling or canoeing for instance, none of which even happened, simply because our stomachs were too full of food to do anything but lie down on the bed and nap! We took our last boat back to Sofitel Motu, looking forward to going back to the room, and just lying down for a while before checking out and heading to the airport.

It was a little depressing when we had to leave finally. We packed everything while the nice plump Tahitian lady prepared our bill. We were presented with two bead necklaces as souvenirs of our stay in Bora Bora. We settled everything and waited for the 30 minutes boatride to the airport. Accompanying us on the boat was a Tahitian man with his little rhythmic guitar. He played us a nice Tahitian tune all the way until we arrived at the airport.

The tune lent an air of melancholy to an already unwilling departure back to real life. Yet it lingered on a note of promise that we would someday return to this paradise island, Bora Bora……

Honeymoon in the City

No wedding is complete without a honeymoon, and in my case, I had TWO of them! Of course, I didn’t know this as I was sooooo engrossed in my first honeymoon – which girl wouldn’t be right after marrying the man of her dreams?

After surfing through the internet and discarding 2 or 3 honeymoon ideas, we decided to stay in Sunway Resort Hotel. What I did not know was that Xav had booked us into Sunway Villas, which was one of the ideas I thought we had discarded since it was pricey. It was as wonderful as a city honeymoon could be – our villa was secluded in the midst of greenery (aka jungle), and yet we had all the modern facilities that we would have liked, IF we had wanted them.

Our check-in was superb. We were escorted to the lounge area, served lovely tropical fruit juices with a variety of bites on the side. While we sipped our drinks, we were informed on the services that the Villa offered. What caught our attention was the cocktail hour at 5.30pm. For two hours, we could have one cocktail and as much liquor as we wanted – and there was a LONG list of them! [If you do think of going here, please do not eat anything beforehand, as they will also provide a plate of complimentary little sandwiches, etc, to go with your drinks].

Villa No 108 was ours. Our butler told us that, according to feng shui, 1=everyday and 8=fortunate, so we would be lucky everyday. 1+0+8=9, which means longevity. Gee, we felt truly blessed with the stamp of approval of both astrology (our horoscopes match!) AND feng shui!

Door No 108 opened into a kitchenette with a view of a pool terrace on its right. A little plunge pool (I thought it was a Jacuzzi, alas, it wasn’t) and two lounge chairs with bright yellow towels draped over them, made an ideal setting for a pool barbecue party. Straight on, the bedroom: Xav was very excited to see a flat screen TV facing our wonderful king-sized, unimagineably soft bed. Seriously, you’d just sink right in and be buried under these magnificent pillows and luxuriously delicious comforter covers. The bathroom had a huge tub (finally we could both fit into one tub at the same time!) with little packets of bath salts on the side. The shower was the type called ‘rain shower’, where droplets of water just fell smoothly and evenly on all parts of your body.

We felt completely isolated from the world, away on our own private little cabin surrounded by the sounds of crickets and night insects. That first night, someone came by to leave a small plate of tiny chocolate balls – two dark and two white. The following night, we received another small plate of four strawberries dipped into white and dark chocolate sauces. Yummy!

Another great thing about Sunway (if this is not enough already) is the fact that the whole town is connected. Staying in Sunway Villas enabled us to get discounts for Sunway Lagoon, Sunway Petting Zoo, Sunway Extreme Park and shopping in selected stores in Sunway Pyramid.

Neither of us has been to the Petting Zoo, so there we went to bond with nature and its animals. The first animals that we touched were of the two-legged variety.
All we had to do was hold out a palm filled with sunflower seeds, and little birds flew to it immediately. I held out a piece of apple with my fingers and four red-chested, green-winged birds just perched themselves on my whole hand, each trying to pry the piece away for itself. There were some pretty naughty monkeys hanging loose,


and they tried to grab anything – my pouch, my hair, Xav’s t-shirt!You have to watch out for these little thieves. Xav and I attempted some longkang-fishing – there was a long, circular-shaped longkang filled with fish. Trust me, it isn’t as easy as it looks. Xav took one side and I took the opposite one, and between us, we managed to catch……absolutely nothing!

We gave up when it started raining and went indoors. Here is where I wore a nice snake around my neck. It was trying to coil its tail around my wrist, and it had some serious muscles, believe you me! Xav thought every animal was open to petting, so he held out an innocent finger through a little cage where a monkey sat quietly. Now, when there is a monkey and it’s caged, it’s usually for a good reason. True enough, Xav got bitten quite deeply by this fella! We then decided we had had enough of nature-and-animal-bonding and made our return to No 108. Of course, on the way there, Xav had to nurse his bleeding finger at the lounge bar during the cocktail hour, and as his loyal wife, I had to accompany him ;D

It was a magical honeymoon. It’d be the last few days we’d spend together before Xav returned to Tahiti. I had to remain in Malaysia until my papers were ready – we were looking at one month of separation time before we saw each other again. In short, we made the best out of that first honeymoon, if you know what I mean! ;D

When East Meets West & They Tie the Knot!

I’m absolutely certain that everyone has seen a photo like this at least once in their lives – people of obviously different races posing together at wedding ceremony. Yet, it does require some explanation and of course, it would be a long and complicated story. So, let me start with this photograph.

This was taken on my wedding day, Saturday, 12th November 2005, in a cute little mosque behind my house in a small quiet town called Sungai Petani, Kedah. Yep, I married a ‘Mat Salleh’, a Frenchman to be more precise. There we are – my hubby Xavier and I – right in the centre of the entire line. Standing from left to right: my elder brother (Iqbal), his lovely Chinese then-fiancee now-wife (Mun Pheng), my beautiful sister-in-law (Anne), my wonderful mother-in-law(Elizabeth), my darling hubby (Xavier), moi, my sweet younger sister-in-law (Marine), my eversupportive sister (Azlina) and my very understanding dad.

Through a simple ceremony whereby my very French hubby vowed, in one breath, in Malay and without any paper to guide him, “Aku terima nikahnya Aniza Mohd Hussain dengan mas kahwin sebanyak seratus satu ringgit tunaaaaiiii”, exchange of wedding bands and our two families were united. Suddenly, I realized that I’ve embarked on an independent journey in starting my very own nest, away from both my families in Malaysia and in France. Quelle aventure!

Who would have thought that this could have happened? That I would marry outside of my race, my culture, my religion and my country? Certainly I didn’t! Nevertheless, it didn’t exactly take me by surprise either. My siblings and I used to laugh about how the three of us grew up to be confused children, especially when it came to our choice of life partners. We blamed our circumstances on my parents.

You see, we are products of a mixed marriage. My dad is an Indian-Muslim or mamak, and my mom is a Chinese-Muslim who was adopted by mamak parents since birth. The three of us were raised very differently from other typical mamak children (trust me, in my extended mamak family, arranged marriages are still going on in this day and age!). Given this reason and the fact that all our friends are non-Malays and non-Muslims, we tended to lean our affections towards the non-Muslim (or rather, non-mamak) race.

I come from a sleepy little town where the community is still quite conservative. The mamak community (in spite of our differences, it is the only community to which we can remotely say we belong) is a close-knit cluster of families, all looking to expand the mamak race by arranging marriages between their children, to procreate offsprings of pure mamak strain, only to later arrange marriages for them the same way it had been done unto them.
So you can imagine the culture shock this community received when my dad announced that I would be married to a Mat Salleh. Nevertheless, they were rather supportive once they learned that Xav and I would still be following the traditional rituals of marriage.

But nothing had prepared them for the cultural divide that was so apparent during the few days when they met and spent time with Xav’s family. First there is the language barrier and then the shyness of the older Malaysian generation to mix with people outside their circumference of familiarity. Of course, what to call Xav’s family was another question. In Western culture, it is common to call people by their first names, and if that seems too rude, then calling them by their titles (such as Mr or Madame) would be appropriate. In our Malaysian culture, we call the older generation ‘Uncle’ or ‘Aunty’, which for Westerners, seem weird since there are no blood ties to these ‘uncles’ or ‘aunties’.


For Xav’s family, going through the traditional marriage ceremony of both the Malay and the Indian cultures, was quite an unforgettable experience. They thoroughly enjoyed shopping for Indian clothes and accessories in Little India in Penang. They are a heck of a lot better at bargaining than I am too – imagine getting a Punjabi suit, lenggha, additional scarves, alterations and re-tailoring at the price of RM250!

Xav and I went as traditional as we could without it being too bizarre for his family. It began on the day before the marriage itself, with the inai ceremony (henna-dyeing for hands and feet). I excluded Xav from this, despite what everyone said that the dye would come off in a couple of days (it has been two months and mine is still visible!). Xav had just started his new job in Tahiti, and I think he would feel hard-pressed to explain to his employers the so-called necessary ritual of dyeing the last three fingers as an act of marriage.

All my best friends from since I was 10 years old were there during the few days before and after the marriage. Pavi, a doctor in Alor Setar General Hospital, did a wonderful job on thehenna for my hands and palms. She also tied the sarees for Anne and I, and made sure all the Indian accessories were where they were supposed to be. Shih Lene came all the way from Singapore and was the official make-up artist for my wedding. Thanks to her, I didn’t look ghostly pale in the wedding photos! Su Heng was the photographer, snapping away and capturing on film the sweet beautiful (and some censored) moments that we all had together.
The four of us had wonderful heart-to-hearts during the few days we were together – so much for sleeping early for the bride! Two nights before the wedding, we slept, reluctantly, at 3am, after gobbling some mamak mee that my brother bought for us. The night before the wedding, again we slept at 3am, chit-chatting about relationships, marriage, career – girl talk basically.


My reception was also the talk of the town simply because we followed traditional Indian style. I wore a maroon wedding saree and Xav looked absolutely delicious in his sherwani. My dad received some comments about how the reception looked more like Hindu wedding than a Muslim one. I just retorted to all who cared to listen (and more who pretended not to) that at the very least, I did not forget my culture (I AM an Indian by race, Muslim by religion, duh, that IS what mamak people are!), unlike many other mamak weddings where the bride and groom turn up in a tux and a white wedding gown.

It amazes me that Malaysians so easily accept all that is Western but frown at the assimilation of one Malaysian culture into another, eg. Indian costumes in a Muslim wedding. Are we so ashamed of Malaysia’s melting pot of cultures, that which foreigners find so fascinating and intriguing? I wonder if Malays realize that the culture of exchanging trays of wedding gifts or ‘hantaran’ and sitting on a raised dais for the blessing ceremony or ‘renjis di pelamin’ are both derived from the Indian culture? It is surprising that in our country of multiple races and religions, there still exist bouts of hypocrisy and racism.

Let’s just set aside the negative comments or small talk from small-minded people.

All went well. I was so happy that people nearest and dearest to my heart dropped everything they had planned and made time in this crazy rat race world, to come and see me make my transition from woman to wife. Most of these people would now be reading my blog.

Thanks, guys, for being there for me. Your presence at my wedding truly made the happiest day of my life even more special!