Ghostwriter's Haven

The Wonders of La Côte de Granit Rose

2007-07-16T17:28:00.000-10:00

I’ve been wanting to write about La Côte de Granit Rose (The Pink Granite Coast) since I arrived in Lannion, but so many events have occurred that it feels like I’m running a race against time these last few months!!

La Côte de Granit Rose is the talk of France and beyond, especially when people are visiting the Bretagne region of France. From Louannec, it takes about 10 minutes drive to arrive at the starting point of the walk along the coast. Of course, Xav and I took the more scenic route and stopped along the way to capture some sights of our little town. We’d stopped at a mid-point along the scenic route, where we could see both Louannec and Perros-Guirec (where we’re heading) from where we were standing.

Although we could see the coast from afar, La Côte de Granit Rose does not start at Perros-Guirec. It is, in fact, in a little town called Ploumanac’h, which is between Perros-Guirec and Trébeurden. Situated between these two towns, the coast offers a splendid view of how Mother Nature takes its own course on this earth. For starters, the coast is named as such because the granite rocks that form along the coast and overlook the sea are actually pink (or rose) in colour. This is especially obvious under a beautiful sunny day.

Little walking paths weave all along the coast, breaking into several other little paths, allowing walkers to admire the beauty of the rocks from many angles. Not all of the rocks are by the sea waters though. In fact, there are plenty which are on land and along the walking paths that have been created. These rocks are surrounded by green vegetation, which the French government is continually restoring to maintain the beauty of this attraction.

What is amazing about these rocks is their very natural yet bizarre formation. From one end to the other, the rocks are formed somewhat differently, although the variations are not glaringly obvious. Even I didn’t notice the changes at the beginning, but after having taken a few walks there, I finally saw what has suddenly become so apparent to the naked eyes. Depending on which end of the path you start, the rock formation changes from being vertically eroded to being horizontally or circularly eroded.

On one end, you can see that the rocks are huge vertical chunks that plant themselves deep into the sea. These rocks have narrow lines running vertically, right down to the base. As you walk along the path, you see rocks which are balanced one on the other. These rocks are flatter and smoothly curved, with holes or ‘dents’ in them, making perfectly natural seats. It gives walkers an option to rest their feet or just lay down on a huge rock and sunbathe (with clothes on, mind you!).

Which is exactly what Xav and I did that day! It’s odd how comfortable these ‘seats’ are, and if you lie down on one of the larger rocks, you feel your back curving smoothly and easily along the lines of the rock. Simply convenient if you want to read a book while being surrounded by nature :-D . We took this opportunity to capture a little ‘family’ picture – our first, in fact, in France.

If you look closely enough, you may see the rocks take the shape of animals or things. But you need to be attentive and I suppose, have the eye to spot such things. Xav and I didn’t spot anything except for what has been shown to us before by a colleague of Xav’s when he took us and some Pakistani trainees on a quick tour of the coast. For instance, in the photo here, you may be able to see a seashell-shaped rock balancing somewhat precariously on another rock. All the horizontal rocks look like their hanging by a very thin edge, but in actual fact, they are sitting on about a metre’s width on other rocks. But still, given the size of these rocks, I won’t be surprised if one day, some of them teeter off onto the ground!!

Anyway, Xav and I took Alto with us on a walk at this coast. It is impossible to let him run free here since there are too many people, especially on a day when there is good weather. But when we are able to, we do let him go and he goes crazy climbing over every rock and sniffing every pool of fresh water. There are tadpoles in the water sometimes and he gets attracted by their very rapid movement. We passed by this one particular rock that looks like a surfboard. Both Xav and I climbed it just to pose for a ‘surfing’ photo. It can be quite scary as there are no footholds on the rock below, and once on it, all you see right next to you on the other side is a high cliff, menacing rocks below and waves of sea water crashing over them. At the time we took the photo, the wind was blowing very very hard, enough to knock you off balance if you weren’t quick enough to react. Rather scary, which was why I decided to sit down instead. After all, I was two months pregnant at the time! Alto, obviously, was not happy at all, seeing us up there. I think, it’s not so much for our safety that he barked furiously, but more the fact that he couldn’t possibly climb up such a high rock :-D .

A few more minutes walk from this ‘surfboard’ rock, is the lighthouse of the coast. It’s made of rocks in the 17th century, which were mounted and melded together with sand. It is typical of other rock buildings along the path – one was built for a little lookout during the war, and the other was to keep gunpowder. Unfortunately, I didn’t discover these two little buildings until later, when I didn’t have the camera with me, so sorry folks, no photos! I find it amazing that these century-old buildings actually lasted through the war, through wind and water erosion, and are still standing upright. Our buildings today are already collapsing around us after 20 years! For some apartments, you can even see the cracks in the wall after the third year.

Since we did this tour every time we have a visitor over to our house, I combined a few photos taken at different times. As the lighthouse stands majestically facing the sea, you can see the difference in the landscape during a rainy or stormy weather and one when the sun shines brightly. The sea always remains a mystery to me. Only God knows what secrets it keeps within its darkness and depth.

If you started the walk from the vertical rock formation, you will undoubtedly end at a beach by the little town of Ploumanac’h. This is where all the souvenir shops and restaurants are, so you’d have worked up a good appetite by the time you arrived at the beach. We did, although we didn’t have our lunch there since it was too crowded with people all the time. And we had our dogs with us. They do allow dogs in French restaurants so long as the dogs are well-behaved. Alto was a lot less calmer then than he is now, so chances of him behaving at a restaurant back then was next to nothing!

Despite the fact that we didn’t stop to eat by the beach, Xav nevertheless took a shot of two of his favourite girls – my mother-in-law Elizabeth and moi, bien sûr! It was a lovely day spent at a place of truly natural beauty that refreshed our spirits to the very core of our being. When you stand before such elegance and magnificence, you can’t help but sigh in contentment and of course, of wonder.

Starting Over

2007-05-08T11:45:00.000-10:00

Oooohhh, it has been months since I last updated this blog! Think pretty much everyone has been complaining, demanding to see pictures of my new home and adopted country (for the moment). Sorry for the absolutely long delay – a lot of things have been going on lately.

First of all, let me introduce the place we’ve chosen to settle down in in France. It’s in the northwest of France, in a region called Bretagne, or Brittany in English. We are located in the small town of Lannion, which is in the north of Bretagne. When I say ‘small’, I mean a town with a population of 22,700 people. Everything and everyone is within 15 minutes drive from one another. The telecommunications bug hit Lannion a few years ago when Alcatel-Lucent (then Alcatel) decided to build its university/training center. Xav now works as a freelance trainer for Alcatel-Lucent University. That’s how we came to be here.

Xav and I had decided to stay in Louannec, which is about 15 minutes drive away from Lannion town centre. Louannec is like a little village located between Lannion and Perros-Guirec, another town (about 5 minutes drive away from Louannec) which is reputed for its slightly upper scale neighbourhoods and tourist attractions. After two-weeks of househunting, we finally found a cute orange, 3-bedroom, double-storey house with a huge garden for the dogs. I didn’t include pictures of the house just yet since the garden was just recently planted, and it’d look better in a couple of weeks’ time. Winter is not a good time to start planting anything, so the house owners waited until the start of spring (about April) to do so. True enough, after a month, the grass is about 3 to 4 cm in height, but it’s nevertheless still too fragile for the dogs to run on.

We only thought of this later, but our house will turn out to be the landmark in the neighbourhood. It’s the only orange house, and is located practically on the main road into our neighbourhood, so people will definitely use it as a map guide. Kinda cool, when you think about it :D. We are within walking distance of Louannec’s tiny town centre – one Brittanic church, one post office, one bank, one pharmacy, one butcher, one grocery store, one bakery, two hair saloons and one pet grooming store (imagine this of all things!!). There is also another bakery a 2-minute walking distance from our house. Convenient life I’d say!

In addition to this, we’ve also got the beach close by. It’s not a beach where you can lie down and suntan, since there are a gazillion pebbles scattered all over the shore. When the waves crash against the beach, you can hear the sound of pebbles being displaced by the water. Once you’ve heard it often enough, you’ll find it especially soothing. There are trekking paths on either side of the road leading up to the beach. One side is pretty much out in the open, and you have a good view of the beach and all below it. The other side goes through a forest. I usually walk the dogs by the beach a couple of times a week and we take this forest trek – cooling and pleasant to be surrounded by trees, following the coastline and taking pleasure of the wonderful view of Perros-Guirec from afar. I took the camera once and it was tough to take pictures while at the same time monitoring my two canine friends. Still, I managed to get some shots of faraway Perros-Guirec through the trees.

The weather here in Bretagne is not usually favourable, except in the summer, where temperatures soar to above 30°C. This region has always been known for its grey, rainy weather and cool winds. Must-haves in Lannion: trekking boots for wet weather, raincoat or a cold weather jacket with a hood, umbrella and a really really thick skin – all the necessities for rain. You can imagine what a weather shock it is for Xav and I to arrive from a supertropical country like Tahiti to a rainy region like Bretagne!

But that’s life when you start over sometimes ;D.

Leavin' On A Jet Plane........

2006-11-16T14:29:00.000-10:00

Xav and I are definitely leaving (not on a jet plane) Tahiti by December. I'll be departing Papeete this 26th November and will be in KL the following night. Xav will be flying directly (well, not exactly directly, via LA) to France this 11th December. We'll meet each other again sometime in January.

I can't wait to be home! I've got weddings to attend, people to see, family and friends to hug tightly after a year of separation. Not to mention hitting all the nasi lemak stalls, mamak, Indian and Chinese vegetarian restaurants too........mmmmmyyyyyyyyyyyaaaaaaaaammmmm!!!!!!!

For my best buddies out there, please leave me your phone numbers (home and mobile) either on this blog or in my mailbox (I'm sure you all have my email address right??). I don't think my Digi SIM card works anymore after a whole year of hibernation, so please bear with me while I track down everyone's numbers and give you guys a call.

See ya all real real soon!

A Ring of Beauty

2006-10-20T14:47:00.000-10:00

You would think that Xav and I would stop taking holidays after our big trip to Paris and New York. Well..........think again!! It's like we never learn to sit still and smell the roses! Actually we are smelling the roses, only in different countries and places :D. Anyway, about two weeks after we returned from the Big Apple, Xav and I booked a 3-day 2-night weekend to an atoll called Fakarava.

No, not an island. An atoll. There is a difference.

An atoll is a coral reef formation that surrounds an oceanic island that has subsided into the ocean. It's most typically found in tropical oceans like the Pacific Ocean (that's where we are!!). And the oceanic islands in this case are actually extinct volcanoes. Simply put, corals grow around the fringes of the extinct volcano. As these corals grow upwards, the volcano sinks or subsides into the ocean, creating a lagoon in the center of the ring of coral reef. If you have a hard time imagining this, just see it as a thin doughnut – the hole in the center represents the lagoon while the dough indicates a flat land. This is what Fakarava is.

Fakarava is situated in the Tuamotus Archipelago, northwest of Society Archipelago (where Tahiti is). An hour's flight from Tahiti, Fakarava is the second most beautiful (and recommended) atoll in its archipelago, the first being Rangiroa and third Tikehau, both of which are nearby as well. We were anxiously looking at the weather reports the week we were set to leave for Fakarava. The reports remained cloudy and windy and we were afraid that our bad luck with the rain would follow us to this atoll.

We spied thick white clouds floating above the Tuamotus. The density of these clouds blocked our view of most of the atolls. As we strained our neck and head all over the small rectangular plane window (even pressing our ear to the side for hope of a better view), the clouds cleared enough for us to take this wonderful shot of Toau Atoll, which is right next to Fakarava. Just looking at this raised an amazing sense of wonder at the world's hidden treasures to which we have never been privy before. You think: how much more I have neither seen nor experienced!

Fakarava Airport is just a tarmac runway and a small covered area resembling a single-storey bungalow. Any sort of airport security is non-existent and it brings home to us the peace and tranquility the people here live with. The people who were supposed to pick us up thought we were arriving the following day, so we bumped a ride with a friendly neighbour of theirs. Something we learnt in Fakarava: the community is so small (200+ people) that everyone knows each other! So we climbed aboard the back of a small pickup truck, along with the driver's family members (wife and kids). The wife became our unofficial tour guide and told us about each place we passed by. We didn't see many cars (if any) coming from the opposite direction or following behind us. This would be heaven for all those illegal motor racers in KL!

We finally arrived at the Pension Paparara and were greeted with the standard cheek kisses and flower garlands so typical of Polynesian culture. We were led immediately to our pension, something I can only translate as a little cabin. Xav and I were just thrilled with ours!

It was made completely out of wood and weaved dried coconut leaves. The floor was strewn with dried up corals, so sandals are mandatory, unless you feel like a free Chinese foot reflexology session :D. We had everything we needed – a big bed with mosquito net, a large desk, a triangular 4-tier wall shelf and a mirror with a wooden platform below it to hold all our esthetic products. Plus, a little back door led to our very own terrace with a table, two chairs and footstools AND......a view of the lagoon before us. Mind you, every single thing in this cabin is handmade as far as we could see. The mirror had shells glued all around it, the windows were raised open by strong ropes tied to tree branches, the wastepaper basket weaved out of coconut leaves, everything. We felt surrounded by Mother Nature in its purest form.

We spent out first afternoon in Fakarava swimming in the lagoon. We walked further up from our pension to more sandy beaches. In spite of the beautiful environment in our own place, there was not much of a sandy beach to lie on. Xav and I spent about 45 minutes just swimming with the various fishes in the lagoon. Then we rested on the sand with our books for another hour or so. We walked back to our pension as the sun was setting. That was when we discovered another surprise: our little terrace was facing west, so we got to enjoy the sunset every evening!

Dinner was served by the bell. The pension owners ring a big bell when it's time for dinner, and all the guest eat together at one big table. The table is already set when you get there, so you can't very well move your plate elsewhere. It was fun because we got to know the other guests too. Two were from UNESCO. Their job was to look for the most beautiful spot in Fakarava and film it live via satellite to an exhibition in Paris called 'Nuit blanche' (white night). Another pair were French retirees who were traveling through French Polynesia for a holiday. We exchanged entertaining stories throughout dinner. It was splendid.

Day two in Fakarava saw us rising early to catch the sunrise on the other side of the pension. This place was the outer side of the atoll, hence it was facing the open sea. The waters here were a deep blue shade (unlike the lighter green of shallower waters) and waves crashed violently against the reef. The landscape here was unlike anything I'd ever seen before. It looked like it was from out of space with all the eroded rocks, broken seashells and dried corals everywhere – not a pleasant sight. Yet some plants thrived from this soil, lending some colour to its otherwise somber surroundings.

After breakfast, we followed a group from another hotel on a day snorkelling trip. Everyone on this boat were foreigners – a couple from Italy, honeymooners from California and a family from Belgium. Our guide, Joaquim, is bilingual, and he answered a lot of questions about the atoll and where we were going, which was a village called Tetamanu, in the southern tip of Fakarava. Apparently, the depth of the lagoon in the atoll is about 40 metres at its maximum point, but right outside the coral reef ring, the depth dips immediately to a startling 500 metres! Coupled with the crashing waves, this is definitely not somewhere you should even get your feet wet.

The boat ride took almost two hours and since it was an open motorboat, we were pretty red by the time we arrived (despite the sunblock!). Our welcoming party at the little deck comprised of a huge Napoleon fish which the villagers lovingly named 'JoJo' and several black-tipped reef sharks swimming calmly around it. They were a sight to behold. At the deck, a fellow fisherman was cleaning the catch for the day, throwing fresh morsels out to the sharks, JoJo, a dog and a cat. Looks like the whole family was there!! :D

Joaquim gave us a tour of the village (which didn't take long). Tetamanu Village is as primitive as you can get, with wooden houses, coconut leaf walls and zinc roofs. The houses were nestled in between glorious heights of coconut trees while the land between each house was lined with palm trees. Winds blew a wicked strength here and if you raised your eyes to the sky, you would see coconut trees swaying almost dangerously with their heavy burden of near-ripe coconuts. People seemed insignificant in the presence of such a rich natural environment.

Despite its initial primitive impression, we were astounded to find a telecommunication center powered by solar energy smack in the middle of all this greenery! We were taken to a church as well, the only brick building in the village. The fact that it's a brick building and beautifully adorned with seashell decorations tells us how seriously Polynesians take religion. A short walk past the church, and we found ourselves facing the Southern Pass, the place where the atoll ring opens to give entry to the ocean. There are two passes, Northern and Southern, both of which have menacingly powerful currents, but are nevertheless, popular spots for dive enthusiasts.

After the brief tour of Tetamanu Village, Joaquim and Matthias (the boat captain), took us to the snorkelling spot. This was truly a waste since we didn't see many fishes. It was dark blue, deep and terribly scary. There were strong currents here, so strong that we had to hold on to a rope extended from the boat! Needless to say, we didn't stay long here. The next spot was a place called 'La Plage du Sable Rose' (Rose Sand Beach).

This little motu (islet) looked like a scene from 'Survivor' – wild and completely savage. The sandy beach was indeed rose in colour. We realized why later – some of the corals are pink in shade and as they dry up through time and wind erosion, their pink colour rubs off on the sand. We anchored in knee-deep waters and stepped carefully around the thousands of black sea cucumbers sunning on the sandy bottom. Joaquim and Matthias had brought some side dish for lunch and left us for about two hours to go fishing for our main course.

When they returned, they brought about 7 or 8 nason fish – these have long, pointed snouts. Matthias built a fire and prepared the barbeque while Joaquim made the typical Polynesian dish – poisson cru (raw fish). Poisson cru is raw fish meat marinated in lime, salt and pepper. You can normally add other things to it, like diced onions and cucumbers as well. When the barbeque was ready, Matthias placed the nason fish onto the zinc 'cooking platform'. While waiting for it to cook, Matthias made a 'table' and 'serving platters' out of coconut leaves. Later, he took the barbequed fish to the shore and cleaned off the burnt skin in the beach water. Then, he laid out the fish onto the coconut-leaf platter and placed this on the 'table', along with the poisson cru, wines and couscous.

Just being there and watching all this happening before my eyes made me feel like we were all going back to basics when it comes to living in the wild. And I thought of how unprepared the more modern people are for this. If stranded on an island, would we be able to do all that Joaquim and Matthias have done? It reminded me of the three most basic human needs for survival – air, water and food. In an isolated place like this, knowing how to send an SMS is a useless skill against the more necessary talents like fishing, building a fire, building shelter. Some food for thought.

We left the rose beach after a couple of hours – such delectable lunch must be followed by an equally delicious siesta! We dropped by Tetamanu Village again just to do some snorkelling with JoJo. We actually got to touch her. We also saw a demonstration of the powerful jaws of, well, mini-Jaws :D. Joaquim hung a few big fish heads on a string and let them hang from an anchor. Several black-tipped reef sharks circled this offering languidly while the smaller fishes nibbled quickly, as though sensing that their opportunity with the fish heads is about to run out. True enough, one shark ripped the fish heads violently from its string (after a few tries) and disappeared into the corals of the lagoon. It was beautiful yet unsettling to watch.

The ride back to Pension Paparara was lighter. We all started speaking to each other since lunch, so we chatted a little bit more, but it was clear that everyone was just dead tired from the day out. Xav and I arrived at our cabin just before sunset. After dinner that night, we spent a couple of minutes reading before falling into deep sleep.

Our flight was in the evening on the third day, so we practically had a whole day to ourselves. Xav and I decided to rent bicycles and do a tour to the Northern Pass. The sun beat down on our heads and blinded our eyes, in spite of our sunglasses. We dipped our t-shirts into fresh cold water and wore it on our swimming suits. The t-shirts dried within the hour. The ride was not so tough actually, since the road is very flat. The Northern Pass is past the airport, and the road from here on in is filled with gravel and loose stones. We stopped a few times on the way, to take photos and trying to do justice to the scenery surrounding us.

It was two hours later by the time we arrived at the Northern Pass. The waves here were huge and we spotted some guys bodyboarding. It's truly dangerous since the currents are strong and the waves crash onto the corals. If the guys were not careful, they might get flung onto the corals as well. We didn't stay long here since there wasn't much we could do – no way was I swimming in these waters! Earlier, we had spotted a hidden beach just before the Northern Pass, so we headed there for a rest.

The stretch of beach had soft and fine rose sand. A lot of coconut trees lined the entire stretch, swaying in the cool winds. This is the type of place we all see on postcards of Polynesia – sandy beaches with low, overhanging coconut trees leaning from the side right out onto the sparkling waters. Xav decided to play Robinson Crusoe and drain juice out of a coconut. He found a pointed coral and scratched away diligently at the coconut skin, tearing it away bit by bit. When he reached the hard surface, he drove the pointed coral into it over and over again, until a tiny hole appeared. Minutes later, fresh coconut juice flowed right into our empty bottle. It tasted good.

We stayed awhile on this little private beach of ours. We dozed in the shade of coconut trees and strolled through the clear waters to stand on hard corals with nothing but the expanse of the lagoon before us. It was so quiet you could even hear the fish making tiny leaps out of the water every once in a while. We left rather reluctantly a few hours later. It was lunchtime and we were getting hungry for more than the apples we had brought.

The ride back was arduous. We were hot, getting close to being burnt (Xav left our sunblock behind at the pension) and coming to the end of our water supply. But something kept us going – maybe the thought of fainting in the middle of this quiet, uninhabited place, scared us out of our wits! Whatever it was, we reached the pension a couple of hours later, just in time for a shower and rest before boarding our flight back to Tahiti.

Our Fakarava trip was wonderful. Being surrounded by nature and all its enduring beauty makes us wonder at the war and cruelty that exist in some parts of the world. Here in Polynesia, we are lost to these negative elements; we are basking instead in Mother Nature's myriad of colours and soothing sounds.

Taking a Bite Out of the Big Apple

2006-10-05T12:39:00.000-10:00

After our rainy summer in Paris, Xav and I were hoping and praying for better weather in New York City. Online weather reports promised us a week of cloudy days with temperatures hovering between 25°C to 29°C. We looked forward to our one-week discovery of the Big Apple. We left Paris on 28th August afternoon and arrived in JFK Airport at around 2:30pm the same day (crossing the date line, so minus 1 day).

By the time we arrived at our budget hotel on 71st St in Upper West Side Manhattan, it was 6pm and we were damp from the drizzling rain and tired from dragging two luggages and other carry-on bags. The Riverside Studios Hotel didn't look very appealing from the outside, yet the room we'd gotten was perfect – clean, with a double bed, mini-fridge and a fully-functional TV with a super clear reception. Bathrooms were squeaky clean and working – no clogged sinks or toilets. Location-wise, it was a great bargain. Right up the street is Central Park West. The hotel is two blocks away from the subway station and bus stand. There were plenty of shops and restaurants nearby. And it was relatively cheap compared to other budget hotels. We couldn't have asked for more.

Even though Xav and I were tired, we still felt motivated to explore what we could of the night. We took the subway to Times Square. It was dusk and glittering lights began to appear all over the square. We saw huge, multi-coloured ads of all kinds (posters, billboards, LCD displays) perched on buildings and hanging down from poles. The streets were alive with people from all walks of life. Artists, cartoonists and caricaturists lined the sidewalks with their works leaning against several easels. Locals and tourists alike posed, sitting on tiny stools and grinning while their faces were being drawn. There were bars, pubs and restaurants of all kinds – Italian, American, Irish, Indian, Chinese, etc. We were simply energized by the sights, sounds and smells coming from everywhere.

Our first American dinner was a slice of pizza at Pizza Famiglia. Tip 1: Food in NYC is served in gargantuan portions. Yep, believe it or not, practically every meal that Xav and I ordered was too much for us! We either forced it down or left some uneaten. We learnt from this experience though – order one meal and share it. If we're still hungry later, we'll get a side order of fries :D.

Our days in NYC began with the morning weather reports. Tip 2: Always always make time for the weather report! Apparently, a tropical storm called Ernesto was heading towards Florida that week. Thanks to Ernesto, we were hit with cloudy days and some light showers the whole week we were in NYC. Due to the drizzle that first morning, Xav and I decided to pay a visit to the American Museum of Natural History (AMNH), one of our must-see places in NYC.

Tip 3: Have an itinerary. This can sound boring, but unless you want to spend your days lost in the city without actually doing anything, planning what to do is the way to go. Xav and I planned our activities depending on the weather. We spent rainy days in covered areas like museums or historical buildings and sunny days outside in parks or walking the streets of Manhattan. We also had a specific list of must-see places and must-do things.

Since the AMNH was close to our hotel, we took a nice long walk along Central Park that morning. As we stopped at a street corner to have a look at the map, an old man approached us and asked if we were looking for John Lennon. He had a very strong Texan accent and looked rather pink in the face, so we just assumed that he was drunk, although it was only 9am at the time. We replied instead that we were looking for the museum and he pointed us in the right direction. It was only a few days later when we realized what that old man had actually meant.

There is a tribute to John Lennon situated in Central Park. It is a 2.5-acre teardrop-shaped landscape called Strawberry Fields, named after Lennon's song 'Strawberry Fields Forever'. Within this landscape is a mosaic of the song title 'Imagine'. This mosaic was made by Italian craftsmen and brought in from Naples as a gift in honour of the great Beatles member.

The museum was not yet open when we arrived, so we walked to a nearby cafe for a shot of caffeine (I can't survive the morning without one!). Not to be a snob, but having been exposed to French-made coffee, it was difficult to stomach the bland, watery concoction that Americans call coffee. It sloshed convincingly in a thick 12 oz paper cup and I was fooled into taking a sip, only to crunch up my face in distaste soon after. We didn't stay long here.

The AMNH is amazing! I'd recommend it to everyone. There are five floors, covering displays and exhibitions of everything related to our world, from outer space to dinosaurs to modern civilizations. We started with a show entitled 'Cosmic Collisions' at the Hayden Planetarium Space Theater. From there, we moved on to the wonderful museum displays. Instead of displaying fake, man-made animals, the museum had stuffed animals that were once alive. It was not just the animals that seemed real. Background paintings of wildlife sceneries and the prop settings in each display are so realistic you are compelled to feel that these animals were captured in their natural state. Even the water ripples are carefully designed, as though the tiger really was drinking from the little stream.

Of course, the biggest wonder of all for Xav and I was the fourth floor dinosaur displays. These were magnificent sights to behold as we walked down each aisle, trying to read the vast collection of information about every dinosaur. There was even one section which compared dinosaur species against the animals that we have today, with detailed explanations of the similar physical characteristics that still exists across the ages.

We spent the day at the museum, since we could not finish seeing everything (in fact, we still didn't!). Since the rainy weather persisted through the next day, Xav and I visited another must-see place – the Metropolitan Museum of Art (MET). Truth be told, I'd expected more from this museum, but this is probably because I compare it to the Louvre Museum in Paris. We walked through the modern art section, sceptical at these works being called art. Okay, I'm not an artist so I find it hard to find the beauty in certain pieces of modern art. Come on, some on them look like paints thrown onto a canvas! Nevertheless, there was a photography exhibition that was pretty good and the museum does hold some works of famous painters like Monet and Van Gogh.

Surprisingly, the MET also had sections that displayed armoury and weaponry from different civilizations. There was a stunning collection of swords, knives, pistols and rifles and even armoury for horses. The MET showed musical instruments as well and in some displays, you could actually imagine the evolution of the instrument from then until now. There were several single box-displays too, explaining how astrology and time were calculated, showing a complete set of women's jewellery and the various types of chalices that existed centuries ago. Several beautiful frames and designs of religious stained glasses hung all over the museum walls.
Some sections carried carvings of the Virgin Mary and Jesus Christ. There were little tribal statues and puppets from other civilizations on display in another part of the MET. One little statue was of a couple where the man had his arm around his woman. If you look closely in the photo, you can see the the statues are anatomically correct ;D.

We spent the morning here and yet not being able to see everything. I think this is impossible to do in even one full day, so I suppose we'll have to return for a second look in the future ;D.

Aside from visiting the museums, we spent our days in NYC walking the streets of Manhattan. Tip 4: Grab literature. We had our trusty Lonely Planet guidebook, and it contained maps of the neighbourhood and subway routes. When we visited the Grand Central Terminal, we picked up a free weekly city guide (NYC Official City Guide) which had a map for the bus routes. This little book is wonderful, naming restaurants to dine at and flea markets to visit. Another useful magazine to have is called 'Time Out New York'. This is a weekly magazine and is full of information on everything to do, from stand-up comedies to concerts to exhibitions. Thanks to this magazine, Xav and I did a lot of things during the nights – improvisation comedy routine, jazz bars and flea markets. In fact, just thumbing through the magazine, we wished we had more time to do everything listed there! It's amazing how any New Yorker gets anything else done in his or her life, what with all the animations and hosts of activities going on in NYC.

Tip 5: Wear comfortable shoes. Armed with our maps, Xav and I did a lot of walking tours by ourselves. We selected neighbourhoods to explore for the day and were on our way. Towards the end of the week, my Reeboks began to fall apart. I purchased a new pair in SoHo just when the front seams of my old shoes started to tear. We managed to do almost everything – the Financial District, Chinatown, Little Italy, SoHo, TriBeCa, Greenwich Village, East and West Villages, Chelsea, Midtown and Upper Manhattan. We even took a roller coaster ride in Astroland Park, Coney Island. Each area had its own distinct culture, landscape and architecture.

The Financial District towers over you with its many skyscrapers. Here, you are in the shadows of serious-looking financial experts, men and women walking briskly in their power suits carrying fashionable briefcases. You feel time is precious (or rather, time is money). Of course, Xav and I visited Ground Zero. The absence of something grand amidst the surrounding tall buildings can definitely be felt. We saw an exhibition area which highlighted photographs taken during the unfortunate 9/11 incident. There was also a brief introduction and explanation about the construction of 'Freedom Tower', a 1776-foot building to replace the original twin towers at the site.

Xav and I stood amongst strangers and yet I'm certain that we all shared the same sentiments. A hush of contemplation and sadness fell over us as we looked at photos of the 9/11 destruction. Later, Xav and I walked over to St Paul's Chapel nearby. The church was the center of relief efforts for eight months after 9/11. There were several small memorials that held photos of loved ones and nationwide letters of sympathy. Candles were lit for the souls lost on that fateful day.

Like I mentioned above, each neighbourhood has its own unique characteristics. While the Financial District is orderly and imposing, Chinatown's shops are messy, small and crowded together. Chinese dialects of all kinds are shouted over your head and across the streets. You will see the same array of goods that you can find in Petaling Street, KL. Every business name is written in both English and Chinese. Further up the streets, Little Italy brings its own European touch with its classy restaurants and charming atmosphere. You can see the Italian flag flying from many windows and streetlight poles. The green, white and red colours of the flag are displayed everywhere – perhaps the Italians were still celebrating their World Cup win.

The hippest and most colourful neighbourhood that we went to was the East Village. There are colourful murals on several walls of cafes, restaurants, pubs and bars. The shops sell vintage clothes, music records and books. Xav and I did quite a bit of shopping here. He bought some used CDs and I got myself some clothes on summer sale.

We waited for really good weather before visiting other famous buildings like the Empire State Building (ESB) and the Statue of Liberty (SoL). Unfortunately, the weather remained the same, so we cancelled the trip to SoL and tried for the ESB instead. We wanted to take sunset shots so we left for the ESB around 5pm. Fortunately we went early as the queue was incredibly long! Even with quick ticketing service, we had to wait at least an hour before taking the lift to the top. Xav and I didn't go to the highest level (102nd Fl) since it was really expensive and we felt that it wouldn't have made so much of a difference to the view anyway. From the 86th Fl, the views were fantastic, both before sunset and during sunset. Take a look......

In the first half of the week, Xav and I took subways or walked to wherever we wanted to go. Finally, we decided to take buses, just for the sake of experience. Tip 6: Save on Metro Card. Instead of paying US$2 per subway or bus trip in one direction, we bought two 7-day Metro Cards for the price of US$48 (US$24 per person). This card allows us 7 days of unlimited travel on all subways and buses for all directions in NYC. It's really worth it, trust me!

Buses are fun because you get to see everything that you pass by, unlike subways which are all underground. We took the bus to go the United Nations building. We didn't go inside, of course, just snapped some photos outside. Xav is standing by this tied pistol called 'Non-Violence' and this big golden sphere was originally at the World Trade Center and hence, partially destroyed on 9/11.

Our last days in NYC was spent walking down Fifth Avenue. We didn't enter any of the shops, although we did sneak peeks through the windows. We learnt our lesson from our one trip to Barney's New York on the Upper East Side. We'd seen a sale advertisement for Barney's and decided to go over there, thinking we could get ahold of designer clothing at sale prices. Yeah right!! The cheapest item we saw there was a T-shirt for about US$300! And it didn't even look good.

So, Xav and I went to a flea market nearby our hotel. We didn't buy anything here, but we got an eyeful of a lot of nice things. One guy was selling posters from the 60's and 70's at prices starting from US$50. These were really nice posters. Apparently, there was a family who collected these posters from 9 cinemas all over NYC. They kept them in mint condition throughout the years. Some of the better looking posters cost about US$200 to US$300 each. There were also other things more commonly found in most flea markets – flowers, jams, fruits. One Punjabi guy was selling rugs, carpets and wall hangings from India. He didn't want to be in the photo however, but we had a nice chat. He could tell that I was half-Indian, believe that or not! :D

Xav and I accidentally walked into another market (I can't even remember where!) and found that it was just like all the pasar malam we have in Malaysia. There were tons of food everywhere, along with items like clothes, books, fridge magnets, statuettes, etc. People were jammed in like sardines so it felt like we were salmons swimming upstream. We found more old posters here, but these were smaller in size.

There was also a crowd gathered around some breakdance music. Curious, Xav and I went to watch this street performance. We had already seen something like this at Battery Park City. These street performers will rap or dance and then at the end of it, will walk around asking for donations from the crowd. Once, some people walked away right after the 'show' and the guy actually commented out loud, laughing while jokingly begging them to stay. At Times Square, a band played some songs which later turned out to be the band's own way of promoting their new album.

On our very last morning, after checking out of the hotel, Xav and I went to Upper East Side to taste the famous frozen chocolate at Serendipity III. Lonely Planet did not mention this place, but we found out about it in another guidebook (we had to buy a new one because we lost our LP). The evening before, we'd wanted to go there for dessert. The line was right out on the sidewalk! Through the open door, we spied some heads in another line right up to the counter. Beyond the counter, there was another line to the reception. Basically, there were about 50 people just waiting to be seated. And God knows how many more already seated inside, enjoying their dessert. So, Xav and I thought that we could come back early the next morning for a last try before leaving NYC. Lo and behold, when we arrived at 10:30am, there was already a line waiting outside! Serendipity III was only opening at 11:30am that day, so Xav and I had to give up the taste since we were supposed to leave for the airport by then. Maybe next time......

The NYC trip is an unforgettable one. Tip 7: Smile. Not only are the places rich with culture and animation, New Yorkers are very very friendly, chatty people. If you ever want to be alone, then never open a map or guidebook on the streets. Within seconds, a New Yorker will come right up to you and give you detailed directions, name of streets, how the street curves and what landmarks to look for. And if that's not enough, they'll also advise you where to go and what to see. Somewhere in the middle of all this, they'll ask where you're from and how you like it in their city. Xav and I never had the opportunity to learn their names, but we have never felt more welcomed and acknowledged in a city this immense. We felt truly sad to leave but are absolutely certain that we would visit the Big Apple again.

Rainy Summer in the City of Love

2006-09-21T12:26:00.000-10:00

Being a Malaysian and having just glorious sunshine and tropical rain throughout the year, it's really hard to imagine what the four seasons would look like. The first time I went to Paris was two years ago for Christmas with Xav's family. Then, I'd expected to see snow covering the streets of Paris and feel icy wind blowing through several layers of my clothing. Yet, Parisian streets remained stubbornly the same, filled with people huddling in thick coats, struggling to keep warm against minus zero temperatures.

This time around, Xav and I got to experience summer in the City of Love. I didn't think I'd see anything different than the burning sun in Tahiti, although I did receive news from my mother-in-law (Elizabeth/Zabeth) about scattered rains in Paris. Nevertheless, I was optimistic – visiting a romantic city in the summer, how terrible can the weather be?

As our plane began its descent, all we could see around us were thick grey clouds. When the plane taxied towards the terminal, rain drizzled against our windows. By the time we collected our luggage, climbed into Zabeth's car and drove home, fat droplets of water just poured from the sky like there was no tomorrow! It wasn't the best start to our summer vacation, but we were tired from the 24-hour flight that we didn't really care at the time. Besides, we were amongst our family, so it was really great despite the weather :).

Our two weeks in Paris were just fantastic! We caught up with family members and old friends. We even made new friends since many of Anne's and Cyril's friends came by for the wedding preparations. The first week, Xav and I went down to Paris a few times. The whole family followed us once for a 45-minute Seine river cruise. The day was cloudy, but the rain held back until the cruise was over. It was wonderful though, because right after, the whole family went for hot chocolate at a nearby cafe. Nothing like warming your hands around a hot cup of steaming cocoa topped with whipped cream!

One morning, Xav and I just walked all over Paris and crossed the two little islands, Ile de St Louis and Ile de la Cité. In total we'd walked about 10 km in 5 hours! We had aching legs and feet towards the end. All along the way we'd taken pictures of our old haunts – Notre Dame, the Eiffel Tower – and a new place called 'Paris Plage' (Paris Beach). It's basically a long stretch by the Seine river where sand had been brought in and spread all over the paved road. Coconut trees and lounge chairs were placed all along this stretch of sand, giving the illusion of a beach right in Paris.

In between these landscape shots of historical buildings and architecture, I just couldn't resist capturing some of the more modern additions which I'm certain would have shocked the French centuries ago ;). For instance, this condom dispenser/vending machine – how convenient to slot in coins and avoid embarassing situations at the local pharmacy! Of course, this would also mean that anyone who has €2 can buy a condom, which includes plenty of underaged teenagers. Still, better to experiment safely than to live dangerously.

Of course, one can never see the city of Paris in one day! Xav and I spent another day exploring the Jardin des Tuilleries in the center of Paris. We took the carousel which is basically a big merry-go-round that gives excellent views of the whole of Paris. We took plenty of photos despite the scary feeling of vertigo. Unfortunately, something went wrong during the file transfer that we lost all these photos. We have not been able to recover them at all :(. Oh well, it's okay – we'll be returning there soon enough!

Somewhere at the beginning of the second week, Xav and I went to Versailles. We had explored the castle as well as the grounds two years ago. This time, we just wanted to go for a walk and enjoy the brief reprieve of good weather, or so we thought. About 30 minutes into the walk, it began drizzling and we had to cut the stroll short! Nevertheless, we managed to take some snapshots of the grounds. Yes, people, it is THAT grand!

About a few days before Anne and Cyril's wedding, Cyril, in an attempt to diffuse his tension, invited Xav and I for something that was too unique to pass up – a 50-metre descent suspended by just a rope, from a bridge surrounded by a forest. Sounds dangerous but is actually terribly exhilarating. Reminded me of the time I went bungy-jumping in New Zealand.

The bridge was recently reopened after bad publicity following a suicide/murder that occurred there some time back. The stone walls on either side of the bridge had little footholds and handholds for those who wished to climb the walls rather than descend from the bridge. On the bridge itself, there were two or three holes surrounded by circular steel poles from which we could tie rope supports and descend. This is what Cyril, Xav and I did. Cyril tied everything together and explained to us how the pulley works and its comforting safety features that automatically lock and render us immobile if we try to descend too quickly. Xav was the first to go down and he was extremely stressed. It took him some time to reach the bottom, all the while squeezing his hands together on the pulley, holding on for dear life! I was nervous too, but managed to hang around (literally) and enjoy the beautiful view of the countryside. Later on, Xav went down a second time, a lot less stressed and much more confident. It was great fun!

Our two weeks in Paris culminated into a climatic event which was of course, Anne and Cyril's wedding. It was a beautiful wedding, and get this, it rained every single day we were in Paris, except on the wedding day! That is what I'd call divine intervention and their marriage is truly blessed. Their friends were very closely involved, as were Xav and Marine too. The night before the wedding, they'd practised a surprise rock song sung by a popular French singer called 'M'. The lyrics were rewritten by Marine to capture the history and characters of the couple. Xav played this tune on the electric guitar while the rest sang. Later that evening, we all had a small party with close family friends.

The next day dawned clear blue skies and bright sunshine as far as the eyes could see. All the ladies and some of the men dressed in Zabeth's apartment. It was a bustle of activity, with the bride donning her beautiful wedding gown and the four bridesmaids in the next room, exchanging hair and make-up tips.
Lots of laughter and many moments of pause and reflection later, we were all set to go to the Registrar's office for the official signing of the marriage certificates. Getting married is undoubtedly one of the most emotional moments one can experience in life.

A deep and profound commitment to one person and that person only for the rest of your life is not something to be taken lightly for sure. It was not surprising then that as the marriage vows were exchanged, Anne's eyes had sparkled with unshed tears. I think a few other people might have teared as well.

After this, we all had a photography session in a park nearby the Registrar's Office and the church. It was simply a lovely day. I was the designated family photographer so I was busy snapping photos all over the place. Yet I felt quite drained after the office and asked Xav to take the photos instead. The religious ceremony in the church took about an hour to complete, with the official exchange of rings and the blessings and prayers from the priest. Marine, as the maid of honour, sang 'Ave Maria' accompanied by the organ while Anne's friends, Antoine and Pauline sang 'Bless the Lord, My Soul'. At the end of the ceremony, Marine entertained everyone with a medley of 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow' and 'What A Wonderful World'. This time she was accompanied by Xav on the electric guitar.

The dinner followed right after and was held in this old restored French farmhouse which had a huge compound, a cool dance floor and the dining hall big enough to fit close to 200 people. I can't speak for all French weddings, but from what I've learnt so far, weddings in France are confined to those people whom the couple really know. This is quite unlike us Malaysians who invite the whole town and its extended family in other towns as well! Xav and I were seated at the main table, along with close friends of Anne and Cyril. The main table here does not necessarily refer to family members only. We had place cards of where we should be seated at the table. All couples were separated and seats alternated between men and women. This puts me in a pickle as I was a few heads away from Xav and in between two men I barely knew. In spite of this, I managed to carry on an interesting conversation about language with these guys. They were describing the difficulties of the Spanish language compared to French and the present increasing use of English in France.

Everything from aperitif to dessert was simply delectable! The champagne and red wine were particularly exquisite. Somewhere in the middle of the cheese course, Marine and close friends of the couple gathered before them to sing the surprise, rewritten M song to the electric guitar tune played by Xav. We had distributed the lyric sheets to everyone, so basically everyone in the hall was singing to the couple. This lightened up the dinner atmosphere even further and of course, eager couples branched off onto the dance floor, showing off some serious dance moves. The DJ was good and he played a mix of songs from pop to rock to swing, so even the old timers warmed up the dance floor with practiced steps and remarkable twirls. The party went on until about 5am, by which time Xav and I were turning blind, having never stayed up that late before in a long time (must be getting old!).

It was a fitting end to a wonderful two weeks in Paris, yet it was sad to leave everyone behind. But it is a comforting thought that we would be returning soon to build our lives in France.....that's a whole other story though, perhaps for another time! ;D

Then & Now

2006-07-30T21:50:00.000-10:00

Many things have changed over the last 5 months since Alto came home with us.....

SIZE: 5kg vs 30kg

FOOD: 1 Cup/day vs 3 Cups/day

DRINK: Bowl vs Pail

Beautiful Esmeralda

2006-07-27T17:30:00.000-10:00

Last Sunday evening, Xav and I went to Papeete harbour to pay a visit to the navy ship that had arrived from Chile earlier in the week. Her name was Esmeralda. She and the Chilean crew welcomed all visitors – Tahitian, French and tourists – with a charming warmth that made us feel at home on the grand ship.

Here are some memorable shots of our experience onboard Esmeralda.....

The grand mast with the flag of Chile waving in the evening breeze

A tribute to the original anchor holding Esmeralda steady (which in reality, is a lot bigger!)

A view onboard as the sun sets

Chilean crew members

Tom Cruise look-alike? ;D

As the sun set, the national anthem of Chile was played and its flag taken down. Soon after, the French national anthem followed suit. The crew members, led by 'Tom Cruise' ;D, did their usual tribute, locking and unlocking knives at the end of their rifles and then standing upright while officers all over the ship saluted the Chilean and French flags

The beautiful Esmeralda - illuminated. Lights twinkled merrily against the darkening sky

Exploring the Golden Lizard

2006-07-19T14:45:00.000-10:00

Last weekend was, in one word, spectacular!

Xav and I spent all Saturday with another couple (Stephanie & Antoine) on what is dubbed the sister island of Tahiti – Mo’orea Island. Mo’orea, Tahitian for ‘golden lizard’ is only 30 minutes by ferry from Tahiti. An aerial view of Mo’orea will give you an image of a large three-toed footprint with two beautiful bays (Cook’s Bay & Opunohu Bay) carved in between. Now an extinct volcano, Mo’orea is simply lush with vegetation and colourful marine life. Short stretches of sparkling white sand beaches line the island’s perimeter while tall coconut trees sway with the constant cooling breeze.

We started the day early. Climbing aboard the 7.30 a.m. ferry, we were thrilled to feel the sun shining on our faces and see nothing but cloudless blue skies far ahead and beyond. Lately, weekends in Tahiti have been marred by dark skies and heavy rain, so we were exceptionally pleased that our weekend in Mo’orea would be undisturbed by the threat of bad weather.

Right off the ferry, we drove around Mo’orea to look for a place that served breakfast. Most of the little ‘snacks’ (small restaurants serving fast food) were closed. We finally arrived at a quaint commercial center and found one Chez Carameline open. Xav and Antoine took a Tahitian breakfast with poisson cru (raw fish salad in coconut milk dressing) while Stephanie and I opted for the more conventional French breakfast – croissants and café au lait, where instead of cream, we poured in coconut milk. It tasted a tad too sweet and very liquid – I didn’t fancy it too much as I prefer thicker cream in my coffee. Nevertheless, that’s the beauty of being in a foreign country – to test the palate with exotic food or drink we never had before :D.

After Chez Carameline we proceeded to the highlight of our trip – the lagoonarium. Antoine and Steph had raved about it so much, so Xav and I were all gung-ho to discover it. Actually, the lagoonarium is on a motu (very very VERY small island) across Mo’orea. It takes about 10 minutes to cross over by boat. We paid the fees at a shack by the road (honestly, it would be very easy to miss this place) and were on our way.

As soon as we arrived, we changed into our swimwear. Xav and I did this in what I could only call as the most primitive toilet I have ever known in my life! One tin box of toilet paper rolls, one urinal, one sitting toilet and NO FLUSH. There is no plumbing whatsoever running into or out of the two toilets. Looking down into the toilets, we found two big holes leading right into the water, where fish of all types and sizes were swimming eagerly. All this built into a rectangular shack made of coconut leaves and supported by wooden planks. UGH, you may think, but it’s by far one of the cleanest toilets I’ve seen :D. On top of that, it has a great view too! Take a look......

Once changed, we joined the others on the short white sand beach. Everything – from cups of hot cocoa to goggles and snorkeling gear – was free. We grabbed what we needed and headed into water. We could see grilled barriers and buoys in the water, marking a small area of the lagoon. Despite these barriers, there are natural gateways for marine life to swim in and out of the lagoon.

Calf-deep in water, I was amazed to see huge stingrays gliding smoothly towards us, dusting sand over their sides as they stopped, as though anticipating our touch. Eyes wide in absolute magical wonderment, we stroked their silky skin, careful to avoid their long tails. As we caressed the rays, their sides (like fins on a fish) moved continuously. If we could liken the rays to cats, I bet they were purring in pure contentment at our soft touch! After a while, the rays swam away to welcome others who had just stepped into the water.
The magic didn’t stop here.

Moving slowly through the water, we spotted turtles swimming in circles around the corals. Donning our snorkeling gear, we swam underwater for a clearer view. Almost instantly, life in itself altered. It was as if we had opened a door to another world completely untouched by humans and all modern developments. In that moment, we were one with Mother Nature, swimming alongside mysterious species never before exposed to us.

It was one of the moments where I wished I had an underwater camera.

Except for the stingrays, we could not risk our small digital camera in deeper waters. And we had to swim further out to touch the turtles and chase meter-long sharks. Nevertheless, I have managed to scour the Internet for pictures of the various sea life we saw at the lagoonarium. Through these pictures, you’ll get a rough idea of the multitude of colours that surrounded us.

We spent half a day there. Truthfully, we could have passed a whole day just swimming with these creatures. With a heavy heart, we left around 2 p.m. to meet some other friends for a late lunch at the Sheraton Hotel. A fellow Tahitian Sheraton staff member regaled us with a mystical story about a cursed prince who eventually married the most beautiful princess in all of Polynesia. I couldn’t follow the story very well, as he spoke in rapid fire French with a Tahitian accent (for those French people who have been exposed to the Tahitian French accent, you’ll understand what I mean).

This staff member also taught us how to differentiate between a female and male coconut (yes, there actually is such a thing!). The female coconut has a smooth, rounded tip, whereas the male coconut (like its human counterpart ;D) has a sharper, more pointed tip. Knowing the gender of the coconut helps determine how to break it. This guy was kind enough to cut down two coconuts (one green, the other brown) and tear open its skin with his teeth. This was an impressive performance, really. He just got down on one knee and started biting into the skin of the brown coconut. When it was done, he presented it to Stephanie. Honestly, it looked like a marriage proposal of a tribal kind – man brings home an extraordinary kill to be presented to the village King as a gift in an effort to ask for his daughter’s hand in marriage! :D.

The evening ended with a quick swim in the beach at Sheraton. There were some corals here too, so we could snorkel in neck-deep water. Despite the whole morning at the lagoonarium, we never tired of looking at these watery wonders. We rushed back to the ferry wharf and caught the last ferry out at 4.45 p.m. The sun began to set just as we were leaving Mo’orea.

By the time we reached Tahiti, the clear sky was painted with bright orange, yellow and red hues of the setting sun. And Mo’orea stood regal, bathed in these colours of the twilight.

My First Published Story

2006-06-30T01:55:00.000-10:00

I’m soooo excited!

I checked my mailbox last Wednesday and in it was a copy of the magazine in which my non-fiction story is published and the cheque payment for it. It was the first story I submitted to a US magazine and I am just thrilled when it was accepted a few months ago. Still, I didn’t really believe it until I saw it in print.

The magazine is called ‘Learning Through History’ and is based in Naples, Florida. It’s a bi-monthly publication that targets parents who home-school their children. For the May/June 2006 issue, the theme was ‘The American Revolution’. I wrote a biography entitled ‘First to Defy, First to Die: The Boston Massacre’. It’s about one Crispus Attucks, the first black man to have risen against the British and who instigated the bloody event later to be known as ‘The Boston Massacre’. In fact, the Boston Massacre is believed to be the straw that broke the camel’s back (straw being the event, camel being the Americans), which eventually led to the American Revolution.

Imagine my exhilaration when I saw my story in print, with my byline on it and a short bio as well that said I am a freelance writer writing out of Tahiti! Although you can’t read the story, you can view the link at: http://www.learningthroughhistory.com/current_issue.php

Look at the contents of the current issue (May/June 2006) and Page 9 is me! :D

PS: Oh by the way, they have bought ‘All Rights’ so I can’t publish the story here.

12 Days of Separation

2006-06-11T23:31:00.000-10:00

The nights are the hardest....

Yep, I'm all alone in this house with my faithful Alto, who never seems to leave my side all day and night long. Xav has gone to Fiji for two weeks on a work mission. I'd have followed him except that he'd be rounding the island on work with his colleagues, hardly staying in one hotel long enough for me to actually explore anything. Perhaps another time.....

Days are not too bad - I'm used to being alone during the day, but the nights are a whole other story. I now sleep with the porch lights on, lighting up the front of my house and garden with a warm glow. Truly, this high up in the mountains, it can get pretty eerie due to the inky black nights. Plus, it's sort of 'winter', so the sun not only sets early, the winds howl through the house at almost gale-force speed! Strong winds rattle my wooden doors and whistle through tiny crevices between the sliding doors and windows. Outside, the huge avocado tree shakes its heavy burdens onto the roof with loud thumps that intrude on the night silence.

And if all these are not enough to keep me awake late into the night, I have my overactive imagination to contend with as well. What is it about the human mind that entices you to visualize nightmares dredged up from a thorough combination of all the horror/ghost/thriller flicks you've watched your whole life?

Thanks to this, my senses are all working overtime - ears extra attentive, eyes sharp, constantly darting to my bedroom door, beyond which lies the darkness of my living room. All doors are securely locked. I sleep with two huge cushions on either side of me, under which are carefully hidden my kitchen knife and the kitchen knife sharpener. My cordless house phone is also within arm's reach.

Talk about paranoia! But then again, better safe than sorry, and better paranoid than dead, right? ;D

Bumpy Adventure

2006-05-12T16:40:00.000-10:00

Aaaaannnnnnnddddd the long weekend continued on Monday morning with a bumpy road trip to La Maroto, nestled in the heart of Tahiti island. All our usual suspects turned up, with the exception of Laurence and Stephanie, and an addition of our four-legged canine family member, of course!

We departed from our homes separately – Xav and I in our sporty Peugeot 206; Feroze and his family in their Citroen; Jean-Michel and family in a Ford 4X4 and met up at the pre-agreed place. The weather did not look as promising as we had hoped. The whole weekend thus far had taken a brief respite from the long showers that rained throughout the island and we looked forward to having continued sunshine for this trip. Thick clouds covered the blue sky and went as far as the eye could see while the gloomy grey that hung across the island threatened a wet day ahead.

Nevertheless, our spirits were high, especially after the wonderful Sunday we had spent together – what did a little rain matter anyway? So we continued our journey to the center of the island, with Xav leading the way. Right at the entrance to the route, flanking either side of the road towards La Maroto, was a sign that clearly showed ‘4X4’ only. Even though we could have easily piled into the back of Jean-Michel’s 4X4, we didn’t…..ah, the adventurous hearts of the young and restless!

Xav, thinking that the Peugeot was a racing car, revved it hard and sped on ahead, others following close behind. It was a proper tar road with loose gravel here and there, so these little rough pebbles just bounced off our car tyres, making loud clinks in the otherwise quiet surroundings. As we drove deeper and deeper into the mountainous terrain, the tar road resembled less and less of a road and more and more of mini swimming pools that Alto would probably have enjoyed immensely. Finally, we arrived at these....

.....and knew that we could go no further by our low-suspension cars. Xav and Feroze, disappointed that their macho racing adventure had come to an end, parked the cars on a flat terrain by the river, and we all climbed into the back of the 4X4.

It wasn’t long before we were back on the road again. Raziah uncovered a platter of samosads that she had fried that morning and we all happily munched away. Prolonged conversation was not possible, unless you understood vibrating syllables and words – the ride on the back of a 4X4 on a progressively bumpy road gave a sensation of being on the verge of getting thrown out! Each bump lifted my bum violently off where I was sitting and displaced me from my original position.

Bumpy roads were not all that were in store for us that day. After about 30 minutes of driving, we came to a large river, which I thought was where we were stopping for our little picnic. Alas, no, the large river was merely a crossing to where we were really heading!

I could hardly believe that there was actually a straight road running through this river. A huge amount of water just flowed over smoothly, covering the tracks of a road. Somehow, Jean-Michel maneuvered us across the river without us falling out the back and splashing unceremoniously in the river. Once we had crossed the river, we found some roulottes (something like our mobile rojak mamak vans back home) parked and the owners handing out baguette sandwiches of all kinds for sale.

It seemed like we were driving on forever, truthfully. The sun showed up here and there, its rays always covered by some clouds. Still it did not rain. I did not fancy sitting ducks on the back of a 4X4, cold, wet and bum-lifting all the way back! Every possible turn that we thought we could go down was either too full of people or too full of holes for us to proceed.

Finally, we all agreed on one exit that seemed peaceful and refreshing. We immediately took the opportunity to lay our picnic mats and blankets on higher, grassier grounds before changing into our swimwear. After a quick brunch (with us, it is always about food!), we went down to the river.

Flowing down from the beautiful tropical mountains all around us and amassing in the wide open land was icy cold rainwater. Gushing across in small torrents and over perfect well-rounded rocks, the river water created several chilly pools into which we dipped our feet hesitantly. For those who are averse to the cold and chilly, this is definitely NOT for you!

We spent the earlier part of the evening bathing in these pools, just enjoying the wild Mother Nature as it was meant to be enjoyed. We couldn’t really swim because the deepest pools only came to our waists, so we just soaked ourselves instead. Later on, we took a long slippery walk over rocks and miniature rapids, through the jungle (there was a well-maintained trek here) and across to the other side of the river. We met some friendly Tahitians who gave us a taste of local cuisine. I don’t know what they called it, but it’s a plate with smoked corned beef and a large smoked vege of sorts. This so-called vege looks like a green coconut and is cooked over a fire. Cracking it open, the yellowish flesh is softened considerably. We then eat it in small morsels, placing heavy amounts of smoked corned beef atop each. The ‘vege’ tastes somewhat close to a yam, but I’m pretty certain it is not yam. When I know what it is, I’ll feature it completely, with photos and full recipes!

Sorry folks, no photos right now, since we did have to cross over slippery rocks, wade through chilly water and get attacked by thousands of insects before making it to the other side of the river!

When the locals handed us another dish – smoked fish (that was green, ugh!) that still smelled raw – we knew it was time for us to leave them. Nice though they were, it was near impossible for us to swallow the fish (yes, we do have some limits when it comes to food, and apparently smelly smoked green fish is one of them!).

Instead of going through the trek again, we decided to chance a walk through the river. Alto, in all his excitement, swam (the water didn’t arrive at his waist, the lucky devil!) and waded through the chilly water like a pro, while the rest of us clumsily stepped on the rocks one by one, feeling our way and trying to keep steady. In retrospect, it was actually dangerous in the river – one slip and we could have easily fallen and injured our heads on one of the rocks.

Though it was a lovely trip, Xav and I were glad that it was coming to an end. Cold and wet, we climbed back into the 4X4 and made our way back to the parked cars. Surprisingly enough, we returned quicker than when we went, as how all trips feel like at the end of the day. This time I had time to look around, ignoring the bum-lifting (there is nothing to do but ignore it), and I even managed to capture a nice waterfall on the digital camera.

We parted company at our parked cars. Alto was quiet on the ride all the way home. Thankfully, he was exhausted and didn’t feel up to his usual cheekiness for the rest of the day and night. Xav and I were tired out too by a very active last two days of the four-day weekend.

Sunday Cookout

2006-04-25T08:46:00.000-10:00

I can hardly believe that more than one month has passed! I’ve slacked a little (or a lot!) in updating my blog on news of our life here in Tahiti. Many things have happened, but if I follow in order of occurrence, it will be sooooo outdated. So, here’s what I’m going to do – I’ll write the most recent happenings, beginning with our long weekend last week and go back in time from there.

Last weekend was a four-day weekend in Tahiti, due to Good Friday and Easter national holidays. Unlike other people, Xav and I didn’t plan to go anywhere for the weekend. So, we spent Friday and Saturday hanging around the house, finally putting up all the interior decorations (yes, can you believe that all those frames and Malaysian masks have not seen the light of day since we arrived?!?). In addition to this, we rented some DVDs from the local library (sorry, no pirated DVDs here ;D), read books and went to the beach (Pointe Venus) with the dog. We had a swell time there, since there was hardly anyone at all at the beach, most people having spent their weekends out of Tahiti.

Sunday was a very eventful day. Xav and I were invited over to his colleague’s house. His name is Jean-Michel (French), his wife is Corrine (Tahitian-Chinese) and their one cute little daughter is called Ilona. Others who were invited also were: a Mauritian-Indian-Muslim couple, Feroze (Xav’s colleague) and Raziah, their son Rayhan and daughter Hannah; Stephane (Corrine’s colleague) and Laurence (no idea who she’s related to!). Here we all are in the photo – counter-clockwise from Xav: Stephane, Laurence, Corrine, Jean-Michel, Feroze and Raziah.

Sunday was a combination of activities – cooking, boating and to end the night, a sound debate (literally!). Xav and I arrived at chez Jean-Michel at 8 a.m. (the sun rises early here, which means Xav and I are usually up by 6.30 a.m.!) to start off the day’s events. The rest arrived soon after us and after the round of cheek-kissing and bonjours, we commenced with the food preparation. By ‘we’, I mean just us les filles (the gals) while les garcons (the guys) basically just bummed around, being our unofficial tasters. Okay okay, the guys did more than that – they helped out with the shopping and also stood around and watched, providing unspoken moral support ;D.

The recipe du jour was island food, which comprised of tiny morsels of fried stuff dipped in spicy hot sauce. The fiery taste could only be slightly tamed by pitchers of cold water and a large bowl of salad. For the adventurous few (moi included!), the temptation to burn our lips and tongues could not be quelled and we suffered under a furious labour of munching and swallowing while beads of sweat trickled down the sides of our faces.

It took us girls two hours or so in preparing the fillings. Corrine had already peeled red onions, carrots and potatoes for us to work on. Lots of chit chat went on while we sliced, diced, cubed and mixed vegetables together with what seemed like a ton of meat, fish and chicken (for four different types of fillings, of course!), sesame seed oil, fish sauce (looks like our oyster sauce back home), salt and pepper. Stephane nipped around from place to place, a pen and small notebook in hand, carefully noting all the recipes in this day’s cooking adventure.

Once the fillings were ready and cling-wrapped in large salad bowls, we took a brief reprieve for a second breakfast of crepes (very very very thin pancakes and even thinner than tosai) and baguettes with a multitude of drinks on the side. Soon after, we all (yes, guys too!) participated in the wonderful ritual of rolling out dough, stuffing them with the now very juicy, fully-marinated fillings and wrapping or folding them up, ready to be fried or steamed.

We even had a proper system at the table. Guys would separate the ultra-thin layers of dough, lay them on the table while the rest of us stuffed these layers with fillings and wrap or fold them. Xav ventured bravely into the wrapping or folding section for an instant, only to be duly reprimanded for his clumsy craft. He finally gave up the effort and went back to the separation of layers section. Little by little, minute by minute, platters of bouchons, samosas, nems and flattened meatballs (begedil) appeared.

Bouchons were very easy to do – we placed teaspoonfuls of meat filling onto the pre-prepared dough spread in the palm of our hands, then slowly closed our palms, forming natural creases at the top of the dough, much like roses in mid-bloom. These bouchons are steamed. Samosas are like everywhere else – triangle in shape. Forming the cone into which we put the chicken filling was easy enough. The difficulty lied in folding the cone into a triangle without spilling the filling. The key was in flattening the filling once inside the cone as you are stuffing it. This way, the cone won’t be overstuffed and the triangle will be flat and nicely folded and closed, rather than plump with holes at the ends where the filling can be seen to fall out.

Nems are spring rolls actually and what I thought were meatballs were really a version of our very own begedil when added with potatoes, flattened and rolled in breadcrumbs! Unfortunately I do not have pictures of all these tasty morsels, since we all had hands dusted with flour and slimy with oil.

All done, we cooked some of each of the four types of finger foods and also made a salad. We had a heavy brunch which made inflated our stomachs so much. Since the sauces were ultra-spicy, we drank a lot of cold water, juices, Coca Cola, anything to soothe our burning mouths. Nevertheless, it didn’t stop the fiery war grazing our tongues, nor did it discourage us from eating more of these hot stuff!

So we suffered a little (some of us, a lot!) and decided to cool off in Feroze’s boat in the middle of the sea :D. All enthusiastic, the six of us (Feroze, Raziah, Jean-Michel, Corrine, Xav and I) drove separately to the club where the small boat was moored. We spent close to two hours in the middle of the sea. The wind was surprisingly strong and there were like a gazillion tiny waves, rippling and pushing against our bodies. I think if we'd allowed it, we’d just float far away from the boat! There are many patates (‘potatoes’ or corals) here, but not so many sea beings as you would normally see elsewhere when snorkeling. Even then, it was refreshing just to be outside, basking in the mellow sunlight and shivering in the cool salt waters of the sea.

Our return brought us closer to dinnertime. Most of us were still full on our heavy brunch, so we decided to take it a little slower this time. Xav and I played with the two little girls – they had sand art materials and I have to admit, it was rather fun doing it :D. And so we ate and drank and laughed and chattered through the night. I’d made an Oreo cheesecake, so we had two desserts, including the chocolate cake made by Corrine. Dessert was followed by an interesting, thought-provoking debate, surprisingly raised by Xav and I.

It began slowly, gained an incredible momentum, climaxed and then mellowed for a while before going through the whole cycle again. The topic of the night was on smoking, tobacco companies and the marketing of tobacco and finally, the big question: who should be held responsible for the millions who smoke and the millions who suffer as a result of this bad habit. Some of us believed that tobacco companies are to blame and that marketing, in particular, has no conscience in what it sells to people. Of course, coming from not only a marketing background, but also from this industry previously, I felt I had a strong say in the matter, and lashed out a valid point that the smoker himself/herself knowingly and willingly smokes without any thought to his/her health, despite the many anti-smoking ad campaigns and the absence of any smoking-related ads on mainstream (and non-mainstream) media. Other points raised were parents’ responsibility and commitment in preventing youth smoking; the influence of society and culture and the involvement of the Government.

So, it was in this way we all went back and forth and the heat of the debate had us all speaking in raised voices, with red faces and eyes full of fire! Once in a while, Corrine would remind us that they had neighbours who were already sleeping by this time. We toned down a little, only to go back to the same volume again :D. It was my first ever French debate, and I was hardly eloquent. But in my broken broken French, I managed to bring my point across and sort of follow the debate. I did get lost here and there and even went out of point many times, but luckily for me, Xav translated everything that was going on in high-speed English and I managed to somewhat catch up. We ended the debate long after 1 a.m., without any solution to the question, except that we all decided to agree to disagree :D.

This debate was a new sort of culture shock for me. A debate in Malaysia would not go to such extremes of practically shouting with strong feelings thrown into it. Everyone at the table back home would remember that they were guests in someone else’s home and that they should maintain a quiet decorum of polite smiles in spite of a heated discussion. In Malaysia, a long word fight of this sort could have severed friendships and stopped weekend invitations from coming our way.

Not how this is done the French style! Here, we bicker, we fight and we curse (I wasn’t aware of this at the time), but we all go home kissing each other’s cheeks, bidding au revoir! and a demain! and actually meaning it.

This long day followed by an even longer night was a good experience for me, even though I was still indignant about this debate a week later! :D

A Thousand Apologies

2006-04-18T14:39:00.000-10:00

If anyone remembers the days of 'Mind Your Language' then you can definitely identify the phrase 'a thousand apologies' often stated by Ranjeet Singh, his palms clasped forward together, head bowed in respect.

Now, just imagine me (without the turban, of course!) doing the same for the simple reason that I have not updated my blog in over a month. Things have happened here, but I didn't find the time to write about it, but I will soon, be sure of that :D

Catch up with you guys later then!

Le Mystere du Grand Massacre du Koala

2006-02-28T17:42:00.000-10:00

The Mystery of the Great Koala Massacre
Written by Alto
Translated by Aniza

Je suis le roi dans cette maison, alors je peux faire comme je veux
(I am the king of this house, so I can do as I like)

Je veux tuer le koala. D’abord le cou!
(I want to kill the koala. First, the neck!)

Puis les petits yeux
(Then the little eyes)

Enfin, tout est sorti
(Finally, everything is out)

Mais non, c’etait pas moi! C'etait mon jumeau malefique!
(But no, it wasn’t me! It was my evil twin!)

Voila, le grand massacre du koala
(There it is, the great massacre of the koala)

Moi, j'etais encore endormi, donc je suis innocent de ce crime
(Me, I was still asleep, therefore I am innocent of this crime)

Alors....dis-moi, qui a tue le koala?
(So.....tell me, who killed the koala?)

Growing Pains

2006-02-22T12:55:00.000-10:00

It has been over a month since we brought Alto home. Watching him grow up in these short weeks has truly been a wonderful experience. For the first week-and-a-half, Alto lived and slept outside. We made him a little makeshift home out of the terrace plastic three-seater serving as a ‘roof’, some cardboard boxes as the ‘floor’ and surrounded the whole thing in a nice long cloth, like a warm wall for his ‘privacy’. Inside, we rolled up a lot of newspapers for him to keep warm.

This cute little ‘house’ did not last long though. He whined all night (that’s just because he couldn’t bark properly yet at the time) and made little puppy yaps. Xav or I had to wake up every 45 minutes or so to see to his needs. Sometimes, he just wanted attention and other times he somehow entangled himself in his loosely tied leash and couldn’t get out of it. It was a nightmare!

Alto sleeps most of the day, coming alive only in the evenings and remaining active through the nights. Xav and I started taking him for long walks to the top of the mountain to tire him out. It worked, though not as effectively as we’d hoped. Then, one day, I made the mistake of allowing him to sleep in the house all morning until late evening. According to websites that I have surfed on puppy training, it’s all right to have him in the house as long as I can keep an eye on him all the time. He even has his own favourite places to sleep - like in the shower when it's cool and damp. Well, ever since then, he has stayed in the house.

Since Alto was too young to have bladder control, Xav and I would take him out for a pee (whether he wants to or not) as soon as he wakes up, every time. We’d also stop his water supply from bedtime onwards. Then, we used a huge cardboard box to block the living room area, where Alto slept, from the rest of the house. Finally, Alto learned to whine for us to open the door for him to go do his business. Even though our living room was not soiled anymore, we had precious little sleep throughout the night. Xav is a really light sleeper, so he’d be the one to attend to Alto most of the time (hey, I do everything else okay!!).

Now, more than four weeks and three vaccinations later, Alto is not only toilet-trained, he takes two walks per day (morning and evening), plays a heck of a lot more, bites everything from our shoes to the curtains (which are now ruined by the way). We had a lot to learn about domination and the vet showed us how to teach puppies to obey and know who is the boss. One technique that has consistently worked for us is to lift Alto by the neck, push him roughly to the floor and say in a loud commanding voice, ‘NON!’ (oh by the way, Alto is French ;D) and then ignore him until he comes to us.

What I can’t get over is how smart he is and how quick he learns things. For instance: Xav always gives me a missed call as he comes up the mountain so that our slow electric gate is already open by the time he reaches our house. I never realized how habitual this was until Alto began waiting at the front door, tail wagging hard, whenever the phone rings!

In fact, Alto has learnt a lot now. He knew his name by the first week and he understands and obeys these commands:
• bonjour (hello)
• au revoir (goodbye)
• fais pee pee (go piss)
• au pied (at heel/come to us) – we usually use this during walks
• viens ici (come here)
• bisous (kiss)
• va chercher (fetch)
• assis (sit)

Currently we are teaching him to coucher (lie down), pas bouger (don’t move) and apportes (bring/carry). We usually use apportes when we play with him and are too lazy to take back the toys we throw for him to fetch :D

Once when I was busy working on the computer on the couch, Alto came to me with les chaussettes (the socks, a toy I made for him by tying socks end-to-end) in his mouth, stood on his backpaws with his forepaws on the couch, touching my knee, and looked at me with this mournful expression in his eyes. I knew he was pleading me to play with him, so I did (I needed a break from work anyway!). One of his favourite toys is le coeur (the heart). It is a heart-shaped soft toy with outstretched arms, which Alto just adores!

Even now, Alto is already very protective (and possessive!) of us. He’s always where Xav and I are. He has already migrated to our bedroom now, and sleeps under our bed, with an option to join us on the bed when we wake up in the morning. Sometimes he gets a little boisterous and plays rough with us. This would normally include biting, growling and when he’s really annoyed, barking. But we’ve trained him to behave though, and he doesn’t bite unless in really rough play, and even then, he doesn’t chomp on us, if you know what I mean.

We are trying to get Alto to love the water. He absolutely goes crazy at the beach by digging his own hole to lie in, and burying his nose in a mound of sand, but he dares not swim in the waters voluntarily. We realized why when we brought him to a different beach – he was afraid of the huge waves at the beach we normally go to (Pointe Venus). The second beach at PK18* is calmer, with little or no waves, and it was at this beach that he swam to us for the first time.

All in all, Xav and I have had our hands full with Alto. It truly is like having a baby in the house – waking up in the middle of the night, disciplining him when he’s cheeky, potty training him. One cold rainy morning, to make up for not being able to go to the beach of for a walk, we made a smaller version of our pancake for Alto. Later on, Alto and I snuggled together on the couch, falling asleep with the sound of the TV in the background.

With Alto, our house will never look the same way again. And, believe it or not, now there is one more ‘person’ to fight with for the remote control!

*PK refers to pointe kilometrique, which means the distance in kilometres any place is from Papeete, the city centre. Therefore, PK18 is not the name of the beach, but actually a beach that is situated 18 km from Papeete.

And Then There is Light.....

2006-02-20T16:10:00.000-10:00

God must have heard my silent (but nevertheless, loud) thoughts and complaints about the rainy weather. For today, He gave Tahiti back its sunshine :D

Yet, I am viewing this sudden gift of light only through my grainy windows, powerless to act upon it. Two reasons: It is Monday, therefore Xav is at work until evening AND I have a lot of writing work to do too.

I keep my fingers crossed that the weather will hold until Xav comes home, so that we can take a dip in the nearby black-sand beach called Pointe Venus. Already there was a brief shower for a few minutes just now.

Rain on Paradise Island

2006-02-19T14:16:00.000-10:00

I have lost the view of Moorea Island. The one that I can see when I stand on the terrace before my garden. In fact, I cannot even sea the Pacific Ocean anymore! ☹ Instead, I hear the rush of water in a river that I never before knew existed somewhere in the deep recesses of the jungle behind my house.

It has been raining non-stop since Thursday. It has been raining so hard I have a natural swimming pool of muddy water instead of green grass in the garden. Of course, Alto is all excited about the pool – it becomes his very own private bathing pool. He traipses through the house leaving adorable little muddy paw prints. Now he has his own special paw towel, which I use to clean the mud off his paws before allowing him to step into the house.

The sun has a virtually short life during these rainy days. Dark, gloomy clouds pregnant with a zillion drops of moisture close over the sunlight, leaving all of Tahiti in a somber grey shadow. The wind blows incessantly, leaving a chill in my bones like never before. During these days, Xav, Alto and I keep an eye out for the rain to stop before hurrying out to take a quick walk up our little mountain.

With all this rain, who could believe that we really are on paradise island?

Breaking News!

2006-02-06T16:24:00.000-10:00

Just a few days ago, there was a news report on Diego Armando Maradona, the famous football player, and how his holiday in Bora Bora almost turned into a litigation suit!

Apparently, this guy was holidaying on Bora Bora island, got a little too tipsy and hit a former Miss Bora Bora in her face with a glass. A major litigation suit was about to ensue (and he'd have been jailed at least 3 years), when the girl’s family dropped the charges – for a mere USD 6000!! That’s like 598, 697.84 French Pacific Francs (XPF).

With this amount, you can probably buy a second-hand Twingo car, it pays less than 4 months of our rent, pays for less than 30 fortnightly grocery shopping…….basically Xav and I think the beauty queen could have gotten a better deal. Maybe they were starstruck – I mean, how many people get the golden opportunity to be hit by a world-famous ex-footballer right? Even if he looks like this? ;D Read more: http://www.upi.com/NewsTrack/view.php?StoryID=20060126-032505-9490r

Going Bananas!

2006-02-01T12:37:00.000-10:00

About three weeks ago, Xav and I were confronted with the same question that Adam and Eve were probably struggling with like a gazillion years ago – should I take the forbidden fruit that tempts me oh so much? In Adam’s case, it was an apple. In ours, they were bananas :D

For weeks now, we’ve been eyeing a banana tree heavy with fruit just off the side of our house – the side that plummets into neverending greenery to what I can only imagine as the bottom of the mountain on which we were sitting on. There could well have been some houses scattered on the leveled parts of the mountain. We don’t know – we can’t see past the trees!

The banana tree in question was just at the tip of the steeped land which made it dangerous for us to attempt cutting the fruit off. Every time we thought about it, we decided against taking the fruit. Moreover we were not certain if the land on which the tree grew belonged to someone who would undoubtedly be incensed at seeing his banana tree de-fruited. So we left it at that.

But, temptation was there everyday, as the side door from our bathroom opens into a view of this tree. One fine evening, we could resist no longer and succumbed to this unbelievable enticement. We read up on banana trees on the internet and learned that when we cut off the fruit, the tree dies and another grows just beside it. Each tree bears fruit only once.

Excited at the thought of having delicious bananas, Xav purchased two machetes to do the job. Unfortunately he couldn’t find work boots, which are a necessary part of the operation, as we would be climbing down through knee-deep growth. In addition, Tahiti is well-known for its cent-pieds, or centipedes (cent is for 100, pieds is for feet = 100 feet! Cool eh?). Xav had already spotted one on this side of the house and we didn’t want to take the risk of getting bitten by these creatures. So we postponed it – again!

Not for long though! :D

Xav and I just put on our running shoes and he ventured down the side of the mountain, machete in one hand while the other held out at his side to achieve balance. The first attempt failed miserably, since it was too slippery and Xav was losing balance. Plus the thought of stepping into a dense growth of creepers is a bit unnerving. All sorts of thoughts run through our mind – are there centipedes, bugs, cockroaches (incidentally, we usually spot cockroaches from this side of the house too). Nevertheless, we were undeterred.

I believed it could be done – we just needed strategy. We grabbed a pail, tied a strong thin rope to it and anchored the end of the rope to the sturdy pole that held our fence. Then we lowered the pail until it reached the tree. This pail would later be used to place the bananas inside so that we could easily pull it up. Xav again treaded carefully down the steep incline, achieving his balance by holding on to the rope. In one hand was the machete which he used to chop through the thick undergrowth, making a small path for himself.

When he reached the tree, he made strong footholds before releasing his hold on the rope. Then, he quickly cut the fruit off – he had spied an army of black ants on another branch and didn’t want to risk having them creeping all over him. He placed the cut bananas in the pail and I pulled the pail up, with him holding on to the rope to climb his way up.

We were thrilled that we successfully managed to attain the bananas without any major problems. We needed to hang the bananas up, according to what we read on the internet. So we roped them up onto an unused curtain rail. The curtain rails here are made of wood, so they are solid enough to hold the weight of the bananas.

Two weeks later, the bananas were still green before we realized that we should have actually hung the bananas upside down! We immediately changed its position, and the next two days saw some change in colour – from green to less green and even light yellow – and the strong aroma of ripening bananas were finally present in the house.

Alas it was still too late to save the bananas! They had already begun spoiling during the two weeks that they hung the wrong way, and when we switched the position, it just speeded up the spoiling process. So, we didn’t manage to taste the forbidden fruit :( Is it possible that its ‘illegal’ attainment branded it sinful to eat, and therefore we have been denied this possibly delectable treat?

Who knows? We’ll find out soon enough – there is a second banana tree already bearing fruit ;D

Coming Soon!

2006-02-01T08:44:00.000-10:00

Hi! It has been some time since I last wrote, but don't worry - I've not forgotten that the blog exists :D I've been pretty busy and all tired out with a little bit of work, lots of puppy-time and then some!

I'll update the blog within the next couple of days. Thanks for your patience! :D

WOOF! WOOF! WOOF!

2006-01-18T17:13:00.000-10:00

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

2006-01-13T12:45:00.000-10:00

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

2006-01-10T16:42:00.000-10:00

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

2006-01-06T16:31:00.000-10:00

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!

2006-01-04T00:16:00.000-10:00

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!

Joyeux Noel!

2005-12-27T15:25:00.000-10:00

Christmas this year passed quietly compared to the roaring laughter and operatic singing by one of Xavier's (my hubby) aunts, last year during Christmas Eve dinner. I recall Christmas 2004 with a feeling of nostalgia....

There were 17 of us to dinner, and it was the first time I was to meet Xav's family. There were seat placings, so I couldn't just sit wherever I wanted (they take this seriously, so no exchanges!). Fortunately, I ended up with Xav's nice uncle Jean Pierre on my left, my lovely then future sister-in-law, Anne, on my right, and Xav himself in front of me. It'd be the first time I saw different forks, spoons, knives and glasses surrounding just one plate. It would definitely be a long dinner (as the French are famous for it) with gourmet food and delicious desserts at the end.

There was much laughter, some song (courtesy of Xav's aunt) and lots of talk (in spite of the language barrier). Then came the time to unwrap all our gifts, and in the midst of oohs, aahs, gleeful shrieks of excitement and teary smiles of happiness, came the first of the desserts. By the time we packed up everything to go, it was almost 2am - the last dessert had arrived - we had been having dinner for a record time (for me, at least) of 6 hours!

This year, the scenario is very much altered. Xav and I are the only family for each other on this lovely paradise island called Tahiti. Christmas Eve dinner was preceded by an incident with the police, mind you :D .....

We were on our way back from the hospital (Xav had an ear infection for the last three days and finally decided to put an end to his misery) and I was driving. It was the first time I drove the left-hand car drive since I came back and I was a little nervous about it. Not only did I not have an international driving licence, Xav told me that we didn't have the car registration papers either. Imagine my consternation when the police stopped me (surprisingly, they were stopping cars which were in the slow lane, hmm...), asked me to drive into what I knew was a public parking area, and breathe into a bag.

Yep, I was doing a Breathalizer test - my very first! Then, the policeman asked me in very serious French if I had drank any alcohol yet for that day. I would have cheekily answered 'not yet' but, there is something about the uniform that screws up your courage and demands respect, so I meekly said 'No' instead. I was, of course, let off the hook (thank God he didn't ask to see my licence or registration papers!) since I passed the test with flying colours.

That evening, I made an appetizer called 'Monkfish Terrine', which consisted of monkfish and vegetables. I overdosed on the veges and we bought the wrong fish, so basically, I couldn't swallow it, even though Xav did (he was really hungry!). We had roasted chicken (courtesy of Carrefour, sauce by Xavier Pourtauborde) for the main course, and then finished off with baked apples for dessert. By then I was already asleep on the couch, after having drained only 1.5 cocktail glasses of very good champagne. Xav followed suit an hour later.

And.....Voila! That was our lonely Christmas this year!

Newbie to Blogging

2005-12-26T12:38:00.000-10:00

I have just been introduced to the world of blogging. Yes, I have heard of this interesting way to convert one's verbal diarrhea into a black-and-white notice posted over the internet. But, I have never tried it. I have never found the need to. Now, though, having suddenly been thrown into the realm of being a housewife (with no kids), I have rediscovered time itself - and how much of it there actually is in a day! So, I surfed the net, particularly for freelance writing work, and also fun things to do, like blogging for instance. Thanks to my very best friend who is all the way back home, I am now able to explore another option for creativity.

Well, I'll start afresh in a few days - right now, I'd just like to see how my blog looks like, in black-and-white, over the internet :D