Trading This For That

We’ve traded this This for That- well at least for now.

THIS:

awe-inspiring Petronas Twin Tower, KL Tower to the left of it

the KL Tower, our homing beacon as we live almost at the foot of it

Resplendent statements, armour-clad in shiny metals and resilient concrete- power houses sprouting overnight relentlessly competing to dominate the skyline. Grey is the new Black. The sleepless city driven by achievement targets and ambition. Bustling with energy, seeking opportunities or to fulfil unborn dreams.

“This” is where we currently call home base, buried in the heart of the city of KL. Wedged between narrow roads posted with “One-Way” signs that seem to encourage a constant stream of 2-way traffic. Back-to-back with the business district and the main shopping area, we’ve got all the mod cons living within the Golden Triangle. Our apartment block is elbowed by other similar newly developed blocks, providing complete facilities and privacy, along with it silent corridors and closed lives. Contact with another person is the (sometimes!) obligatory brief salutation followed by a quick retreat into one’s defended space, probably during the silent shared ride in the lift. The Suits have few words and minutes to spare least it deviates from their important plans for the day. The people who take time for a conversation are the amiable shopkeepers down the street who provide me with practical tips and insights to navigating some aspects of life in this city. The elderly man who comes around the neighbourhood each evening on his motorbike selling steamed buns shouts his greeting to me with a warm toothy smile despite my irregular purchases. We exchange opinions about the weather and the buying behaviour of his customers for the evening.

view from our apartment balcony, tip of Twin Towers just visible

Fortunately our apartment view overlooks a patchwork of 3-storey apartments. This is my theatre of daily drama, rich with sounds of real life. Puppies whining, mothers yelling at their kids, woks clanging out a hot meal, neighbours gossiping loudly across balconies, laundry hung out to dry appearing and disappearing, cars playing musical chairs for parking lots on the street.

Stress in the city often results in the inevitable- a developed inability to refrain from using the horn. Deep into the night, sirens and the hum of traffic keep the pulse of the city alive. Crime statistics and crazies soon affect your walking routes and pace and give you swivel-head syndrome to constantly keep your eye on your back. Our apartment has been burgled in the quiet hours of the morning while sleep cocooned us despite our property having better security than most other places. It was not the loss of property that was most disturbing but the violation of what we took for granted was a safe space and the psychological adjustment to reality.

THAT:

hills shaped by time and the elements

room with a view and more

rural country roads winding through oil palm plantations

Surrounded by the silhouette of hills, traversed by typical meandering roads through brooding, dense oil palm plantations and colour-speckled fruit orchards. As far as the eye can see, a carpet of verdant green adorns the geography. Night is lit by the stars and street lamps are few and far between which immediately brought back precious vivid memories of life in Bali. Hefty aggressive trucks laden with oil palm, fruits, raw building materials from quarries, ply the main road, mercilessly dominating their route day and night. Thankfully they stay off the humble rural road we travel on.

We’re on the west coast of Malaysia, just north of the port of Lumut which is the jump-off point for ferries to the vacation island destination of Pangkor. The main commercial activity here is oil palm cultivation and engineering fabrication at Lumut port. The port reminds me of a mad scientist’s lab from which monstrous metal beasts, each one more amazing and bigger than the last are magically churned out overnight. The fabrication is mostly for the maritime, oil and gas industry. Before this, I had only seen such structures on TV and they’re always sitting isolated in the middle of the ocean. Here the proximity to land lends reality to the staggering scale of these ocean platforms and sub-sea structures. The fabrication work clocks 24/7. This metalscape navel crawling with life while the surrounding jungles and plantations retire at nightfall. On a smaller scale, the river estuaries are dotted by prawn farms and the scalloped coastline populated by small fishing villages.

metalscape

prawn ponds/ farms

Further away from the port in Rural City, Nature rules and dictates the order of the day. No doubt the day begins with standing out in the open under the sky, looking at signs for wind direction and speed and feeling the moisture in the air. At first light on a clear day, farm hands and plantation workers make their head start while small wooden fishing boats head full throttle out to sea or hug the coastline carrying hopeful hearts. The birdsong heralds fine weather ahead just before daybreak. Macaque monkeys living in the swampy mangrove along river inlets get busy with hunting for mud crabs and then hang out on electric cables chattering at passing vehicles. This is now my theatre of drama and watching and listening to the changing moods of the elements.

morning birdsong conversations

the palette of blue

Here I have found my connection to place, where all the five senses are dilated to the pulse of stone, cloud, wind, storm, water. This is the taste of the earth.

Love Or Hunger?

Which would we choose to satisfy first if we were starving?

love

OR

hunger

The thing that striked me most about my daily visits to Chuyia/AhFa was a ritual she established- to put it more accurately, she shaped my behaviour with her! Despite her emaciated condition and the obvious that she was always ravenous, she was determined to engage me in spending substantial time indulging in affectionate play before even giving the warm home-cooked food I’d prepared a sniff. To me, at first this seemed ridiculous. How could anyone ignore their screaming hungry stomach and the yummy smells coming from the doggy picnic bag. It took me awhile to figure out what I think might have been going on for her.

To her, love or perhaps more accurately, bonding was more important for her survival. It makes sense for a pack animal that spending time on affiliating activity and bonding with a pack will ensure better chances of survival. Consequently, bonding activities are high on the priority list before fulfilling hunger needs, as basic as hunger might seem. She did however always end up enthusiastically gobbling the home-prepared brown rice with chicken and liver mixed with dried food.

Harry Frederick Harlow was an American psychologist best known for his maternal-deprivation and social isolation experiments on rhesus monkeys, which demonstrated the importance of care-giving and companionship in the early stages of primate development.

Harlow separated baby rhesus monkeys from their mothers, and offered them a choice between two surrogate "mothers," one fashioned with terrycloth, the other with wire.

In the first group, the terrycloth mother provided no food, while the wire mother did, in the form of an attached baby bottle containing milk. In the second group, the terrycloth mother provided food; the wire mother did not. It was found that the young monkeys clung to the terrycloth mother whether it provided them with food or not, and that the young monkeys chose the wire surrogate only when it provided food.

When the monkeys were placed in an unfamiliar room with their cloth surrogates, they clung to it until they felt secure enough to explore. Once they began to explore, they would occasionally return to the cloth mother for comfort. Monkeys placed in an unfamiliar room without their cloth mothers acted very differently. They would freeze in fear and cry, crouch down, or suck their thumbs. Some of the monkeys would even run from object to object, apparently searching for the cloth mother as they cried and screamed. Monkeys placed in this situation with their wire mothers exhibited the same behavior as the monkeys without their cloth mother.

The importance of bonding and contact can hardly be undermined in influencing behaviour and holistic well-being.

I have since received help from an independent animal rescue group in the first steps to re-homing our Little Flower. Her owners were very willing to give her up as they already have an additional 2 puppies from her first litter and were not willing to part with the expenses required for her sterilization. Then the perennial dilemma of whether she was better off re-homed, as that did not always ensure a safer and better future for the animal, or was it better for her psychological well-being that she continued her free-ranging life on the streets.

The situation was such- she was not going to be sterilised by her owners and should she conceive again, she lacked the nutrition to sustain a healthy state and would probably pose a burden to her owners who didn’t want any more dogs. She was free-ranging in a dangerous, constantly busy street intersection. If she ever needed any medical attention, it seemed unlikely that she would get it. On the other hand she was used to roaming free and occasionally restrainedH. How would she take to being re-homed and confined in her new home? We decided to take one step at a time and get her sterilized first. Not knowing anybody in the city still new to us, I was touched when the animal rescue vet took the effort to drive an hour from her clinic in the suburbs, arriving at 10pm that night, and whisked Ah Fa off on the return one hour journey back.

Since my only friend in the city moved away, it has left me a little void accentuated by worry. She’s boarding at the vet’s as we found out she’s pregnant! So she’ll stay put, have her puppies, wean them and then be sterilized and re-homed. It all seems like a long, new journey to me and I wonder what she thinks. We have since made several visits to Ah Fa. She insists on our routine of overjoyed jumping and nuzzling, eloquent kisses and shy requests for strokes.

On my first visit, my heart broke to see her lying quietly in a cage, a fraction of the space she had before. I wondered constantly, with shades of guilt, about what the artificial, caged space was doing to her. Time told us her story. She holds her tail up now, ears picked up and inquisitive, no longer holding her body close to the ground and skulking like she did before. She vocalises her joy at seeing us and barks! She’s no longer in survival mode! When I sit with her on the sidewalk outside the vet’s, she curiously sniffs at passers by when before she used to startle easily and run off to hide when strangers passed by.

Despite being in a confined space, her confidence has grown. There is no doubt of her psychological well-being and it shows in her posture and vocalisations. She has the assurance of two square meals a day, a safe space and kind vet assistants nearby.

Ruff Life For A Flower

September 09- I’ve made a new friend in KL who lives about 5 blocks away from where I live. I first noticed her maybe half a year ago or more on a short trip to KL. I spotted her skulking around the streets, weaving her way amongst traffic and hurrying crowds on the street. Amazingly I encountered her again perhaps a few weeks ago and then more recently a week ago which prompted me to trail her, curious to find out more about her.

Following her, I found out where she lived- in a dark car park under a dilapidated block of low rental apartments. Through unwashed windows and some broken ones, metal double-decker bunk beds could be spotted, squeezed head to toe.

home for some

She’s a lovely dog with handsome markings, about a year and a half old. Weary of people but with soft eyes. Since I knew where she was taking shelter, I dashed across the road to the 7-Eleven and returned to make her acquaintance with a savoury loaf.

wearing a new collar I got her in hope that she might avoid incidences

of abuse on the street if it indicated that she belonged to someone

What had caught my attention when I first saw her was her state of severe emaciation. She wore nothing but her skin stretched over her small frame of protruding bones with little trace of muscle tone. She ate the loaf cautiously, keeping a watchful eye on me.

I returned the next day, this time with proper food and found her restrained by a short length of chain, attached by a short, stiff length of electric cable to a pillar in the car park. She recognised me this time and said so with a little wag. It took some time to coax her to eat what I had brought her. This was the beginning of a new routine for her and me. I began to visit her twice a day, starting her off with small meals so as not to overload her system as it looked like she had hardly been getting food.

In no time our cautious relationship evolved into something we both looked forward to each day. Some days she would not be there. Having been let off her restraint, she probably took the opportunity to scavenge the street dumps for food scraps. I worried incessantly about her as her neighbourhood was a chaotic criss-cross of streets jammed packed with irate drivers.

I've since met the older couple whom she belongs to. Him, somewhat reserved, her, somewhat intimidating with their curious and suspicious stares. They are care-takers of the car park, charging a mere RM2 per hour. What is home to them is a basic lean-to from which they can keep a good eagle eye on the car park. Their lives seemed to have no more frills than their dog's.

We've called her Chuyia- which we understand means "little mouse". I've learnt from naming numerous pets that having their names end in long vowels makes for good and effective hollering at meal times. Giving her a name was more for the practical purpose of being able to get her attention if by chance I spotted her on the street or if I needed to call for her when she was not where I was hoping to find her. In time to come, I found out her first given name by the couple who kept her. She was named Ah Fa, which in Cantonese meant "Flower" which is meant to evoke images of an irresistible fragrant willowy beauty.

A month has passed and she's looking more like the good stuff flowers were meant to be. She's let go of her reservations and greets us royally every single day. It's not often and a long time since anyone has greeted me this way.

a month of proper meals

still working on a more ideal waist size (bigger!!)

One and a half months since our friendship began, we're all happier in our own ways.

November 7, 2009

nothing like a catch-up over a good pat and scratch

Days of Innocence

the smile didn't cost me anything

(Amed, North-East coast Bali, Indonesia)

munchkins attracted to the camera

(Lombok, Indonesia)


















more munchkins affected by the camera magnet

(Waikabubak, Sumba Island, Indonesia)











anchored

(Lombok, Indonesia)

















hanging out

(Seminyak, Bali, Indonesia)















at serious play

(North Bali, Indonesia)













drain fishing

(Gunung Salak, Bali , Indonesia)




















full turnout

(Sumbawa, Nusa Tenggara, Indonesia)



















best friends

(Singapore)

















buffalo prince

(Waikabubak, Lesser Sunda Islands, Indonesia)

















buffalo fans

(Waikabubak, Lesser Sunda Islands, Indonesia)










pack rats

(Singapore)






















dressed for prayers

(Bali, Indonesia)













helping in the onion fields

(Lake Batur, Bali, Indonesia)
















another view

(Singapore)



















wide-eyed

(Singapore)














a tough moment

(Singapore)

















school's out

(Ubud, Bali)









wave-watchers

(Petitengget Beach, Bali, Indonesia)



















the joy of water

(Water Palace Tirta Gangga, Bali, Indonesia)

This Little Piggy Went To Market

and you didn't think I was referring to moi, did you?

I've always had a fascination with local markets even though there's a good chance they'll make their usual assault on all the senses and leave you trailing muddy feet home- at least in this part of the world. They hold rich secrets to the ordinary lives of people residing in the area. Fresh produce reflect the local agricultural activity and the history of local and foreign influences in their cuisine. The spice and dried good stalls foretell of the complexity of ingredients that get stirred into the every day sustenance put on the table. Food stalls which exude tempting smells and colours quickly melt into flavours on the palate, are an instant reminder of the simple good things in life. Clothing stalls are a quick cue to the local dress code and life style, displaying a choice ranging from the hot trends for the younger set to the traditional favourites.

meandering line of stalls

The Temerloh Sunday Market, or Pekan Sehari (one-day market) as it is commonly known, was our weekend escape from the city. Taking the snaking Karak Highway out of town through the mountain range with a pleasant drop in temperature, we arrived within two hours. It was mid-morning and the approach to the market was lined with cars double-parked as the crowds had already been coming through since operating hours were from sunrise to about just past noon. The scene was bustling and bursting with people but had a good Sunday feel to it, probably owing to the fact that its riverbank site meanders along the Pahang River (the longest river in Malaysia). We squeezed ourselves into the crowd and got swept along with kids trailing behind their parents.

local version of cereal- long grain and glutinous rice pounded flat

Some entertainment was provided in the form of the itinerant herbal potion seller inseparable from his microphone broadcasting promises of youth and vitality and the wild honey harvester with faded photographs attesting to his tree-top life-endangering efforts. Adding uniqueness to this market is the produce foraged from the nearby jungles by villagers, like the brown feathery fungus, freshly cut bamboo shoots, fragrant wild honey, fern leaves and others I could not identify.

feathery fungus foraged from the jungle

rosehip cultivated locally

destined for the pot

Having listened to the ravings of a friend about this fish called the patin, I had to find out for myself. The patin is a silver catfish that's a highly sought after local delicacy. Since its bred along the riverbanks in traps and not living on the riverbed, the constant flowing river ensures the absence of the muddy taste characteristic of the catfish.

live patin and tilapia sold in abundance

In fact, when we were leaving town we came across this huge billboard official declaration that Temerloh is the "City of the Patin". That was clear indication that we could not leave town without the inevitable patin tasting.

The Malays specialise in patin masak tempoyak. At the first tasting it seemed to have the perfume of a strong fragrant fruit. My guess was that ripe nangka fruit (jackfruit) had been added to flavour the rich creamy yet spicy sauce. It turned out I was mistaken but a strong fragrant fruit had indeed been used in the dish.This gulai dish was cooked with fermented durian paste which gives it a distinct if not, acquired taste. The more we tucked into it, the more it grew on us.The rich coconut milk based sauce spiced with turmeric, ginger, chillies and lemongrass left us entirely satisfied.

But we couldn't leave without trying the Chinese version of this speciality. True to Chinese tradition, the freshest fish is best steamed with slivers of aromatic ginger, with a burst a saltiness from a few scattered preserved plums and curled strips of spring onions to compliment with a touch of colour. It was the texture of the fish that came through whatever the preparation method emplyed. The satin softness and smoothness of the finest tofu came to mind.

We headed back to the bright city lights after our fill of patin!