Chicken Little's Fear

pix taken with my mobile

This happened just on the next street from where we live. (see link below to story in the local paper today)

Someone i met last week asked me where I lived and when I told her she said "wah- you live in a happening place"- but what she really meant was our area boasts of one of the most famous local food streets (Jalan Ah Lor) in KL, shopping malls (ranging from the swanky and exclusive to the "cheap and everything sold here" establishments), eateries and the business district. But yesterday's incident was another aspect of "happening" that we've seen since moving here in the last 6 months.

A couple of months ago just a street down from yesterday's happening, a nasty fire razed a coffee shop and adjacent provision store and several low cost apartments above. Apparently the fire was started by a short circuit in non-regulated re-wiring done for the makeshift provision store. It seems like building regulations and construction standards are somewhat ignored and neglected here, something we are quite familiar with in our previous country of residence. Every now and then we read in the local paper of buildings collapsing and landslides that take buildings with them. This has left us with Chicken Little's fears. Now we prefer to go for the al fresco dining alternatives

We were frequent patrons of this particular coffee shop for char kwey teow (fried noodles)which apparently is quite well known in this area. Recently they changed hands, I think and its been renovated. The "new look" didn't quite appeal to us (probably more due to the fact that we missed the old food stalls) so we haven't been there since. For no particular reason yesterday P and I decided to have lunch there. Luckily for us we missed the big happening which occurred hours after we were there. I saw the collapsed building on my way back from a visit to see Fa at the vet's and of course had to stick around and join the neighbourhood busybodies too!

photo in today's local paper, The Star

And here's the story in the paper:

http://thestar.com.my/news/story.asp?file=/2008/2/27/nation/20460120&sec=nation

Playing House

It was just like an episode out of House, only this wasn't something we could switch off and retire from for the day and sink into a good night's sleep.

The sudden onset of symptoms indicated some severe internal infection at work breaking the body down rapidly. Each 24 hours took a turn for the worse. Xrays were done, full diagnostic blood work and we were faced with possibilities, possibilities, possibilities but no clear indications of the cause. Not that we didn't have a medical professional on hand who didn't know his stuff. This Doctor was thorough, interested in the patient and conscientious. The Doc had to make a decision. Go with this possibility or the other one while life hangs by a thread and time takes with it another weak breath of life. Administer this treatment or that? One incorrect decision meant a loss of precious time. I witnessed the Russian roulette being necessarily played. I didn't envy the Doc. I grappled with my own fears and sadness.

Six days ago our Flower Fa got hit by a super infection. Her WBC (white blood cell) count was alarmingly high indicating the body was fighting an infection. Sudden loss of appetite, depression, inability to stand, abdominal tenderness, vomiting. All this came so suddenly when she was eating well, energetic and actually gaining weight like never before.

Fa was hit by a serious infection about a month earlier with the same symptoms. She pulled through. Now this time the symptoms were more severe and progressed to affect the kidneys and liver. In 2 days she was jaundiced and showed signs of bruising all over her underbelly and ears as her blood clotting factor was compromised. The vet had hoped that her earlier 2 weeks on antibiotics would have knocked out the infection but it seems it has been lurking.

Two possibilities surfaced. The infection could be related to surgical procedures during her recent spaying or Leptospirosis. Leptospirosis is a contagious bacterial disease affecting both animals and humans that can result in chronic liver and kidney disease and fatality in the dog. The most common modes of transmission of the infection occurs with contact with infected rat urine or ingestion of urine-contaminated water like blocked sewers and drains or swimming in ponds. Less common modes of infection are through the membranes of the eyes, abrasions or bite wounds, or ingestion of the flesh from infected animals such as rats, raccoons, skunks or opossums. Suburban and urban areas see less of this disease although decaying cities must be a host to goodness knows what armies of rats.

Dr Y made his decision and thankfully Fa has responded to the treatment. She's still surviving on a drip but 2 days ago she managed to eat one hard boiled egg I brought her and then collapsed in exhaustion, hardly able to sit up. Yesterday she ate 2 eggs AND some boiled fish! She's pulled through for now. We're waiting to see what next in case danger is still lurking.

Fa weak and depressed, barely able to hold herself up

the Liz collar is to prevent her from wrenching her drip out

I was suddenly reminded yesterday that in the last year that I lived in Bali, our night watchman came down with a severe infection attributed to rat pee. He was so ill and weak he stayed in bed for weeks. Thankfully he recovered over a long period of time. So it's a good thing to be cautious when rats are enjoying the run of the house and work on immediate elimination or it'll be the rats who'll be playing house!

The Winter Of My Content

10 degrees in Hanoi and where was the suffering I had anticipated? Pre-vacation fussing revolved around real and dramatised worries about whether we had suitable winter clothing since most of our heavier winter wear reside in a different country from where we currently live.

A fortnight ago we disentagled ourselves with determination from the shackles of P's work and took our long awaited break. Arriving in Hanoi we were promptly whisked away by the driver of our hotel pick up service, hardly feeling that our feet had touched the ground. With the aid of the car horn that has never been underused, we elbowed, muscled, wove and raced our way to the Old Quarter. This was a plunge into the heart of Hanoi.

There was no doubt that it was the middle of winter- grey and COLD! But the moment I stepped out of the car in front of the hotel, I KNEW. There was something in the air. It felt almost tangibly vibrant! This was my kind of city and it was going to be good! Despite being cloaked in sombre winter grey, the streets were a hive of activity, adding to the excitement of discovering a new place. This was not a city that dragged its feet.

Streets were packed shoulder to shoulder with shops and eateries, ploughed by people on sidewalks and motorcycles and hawkers muscling you out of the way, selling everything imaginable. Interwoven with the usual mod-cons of urban living were signs of the traditional life. Thank goodness not just another city. The Old Quarter has a history that spans 2,000 years and it's reflected in the original street layout that still exists. I couldn't spot the ao dai being worn but everywhere you looked, the traditional conical rice farmer's straw hat abounded, worn by itinerant hawkers plying the streets.

Two treasures followed us home. These paintings now hang on our walls. Well in truth, one has been hung up and the other is propped up by the dinner table chair!

the winter pallette brings back vivid memories of crisp cold days

the richness and heavy texture of oil paints

I digress from winter and Hanoi- but oil paintings employing the heavy strokes of the impasto technique appeal especially to me with the characteristic body and texture. In oil painting, the medium dries slower by comparison to other techniques. This essence results in the rich textural work of brush strokes given to contemplation and thoughtfullness. By applying transparant deep colours over opaque tones, the painter can produce rich modulations of darks and this gives the work a tonal depth not available in most other techniques. The painter can mix exact colour nuances on their palettes without being challenged by time. This mixing of colours and layering of slow drying brush strokes are much like thoughts in the making.

this beauty came home with us and graces our wall

Trees On The Go

Yes it was definitely Trees On the Go EVERYWHERE! Tangerine trees laden with startling bright orange fruit for sale lined stretches of roads as we drove out of Hanoi last week heading for the airport. Needless to say the crowds looking for a good buy added to the heat of the traffic jams typical of Hanoi city.

Buying a decorative tangerine tree for the home for the Chinese New Year is similar to the ritual of going out to buy a fir tree at Christmas. Symbolizing abundant happiness, who would not want a tangerine tree for the home! The green leaves symbolize wealth as the Chinese word for green rhymes with the word for wealth. The shapes of the small oranges are a symbol of unity and perfection. Now trust the Chinese to find a tree laden with everything a Chinese could wish for! And not forgetting that at least part of it is edible too!!

a huge tangerine tree gracing the entrance of a temple in the old quarter of hanoi

So what does a Vietnamese do after selecting the perfect tree and paying for it? He takes it home on his trusty Wave 125cc motorbike. Amazing feats seen only at famed circuses awakened our sense of wonder. Some were spotted strapped with 3 orange dotted trees, at least 10 foot tall, on a single motorbike just weaving through dense traffic just like on any other day.

trees on the go!!

not surprising the rider and motorbike can hardly be seen

the most juicy and sweet kumquarts sold on the street

Flower With So Blooming Many!

Our little flower, Ah Fa's given birth to a HUGE litter of healthy little ones about a month ago.

Before we could rehome her, the vet found that she already had the little ones on the way. What surprised us the nine fur bundles that emerged!!! She's undoubtedly had her paws full with their constant demand to be fed. To date, all but three of the puppies have been found a home.

Unfortunately because it was still in the early days when we were trying to provide her with adequate nutrition to restore some basic level of health that she conceived, having this blooming big litter has taken its toil on her drastically. She's lost a significant amount of weight and sadly she looks even worse off than when we first met her. Not confident that she's being well taken care of at the current vet's, we're planning to move her this weekend to board with a recommended vet.

Ah Fa's been sterilised so no more of that to tax her health. Now to work on finding her a safe and caring home.

Back to work on getting her on her feet again and in good health. The positive thing is she's in good spirits and holding her tail high with a good smile. We certainly have some way to go.

Waiting for Miss Purr-fect

There’s something to be said for a broken routine. It’s disconcerting and throws things out of balance not to mention the out-of-sortness that feeds the growing edginess. It’s been four weeks now. First I waited impatiently, then I tried waiting patiently.

This was the story four weeks ago.
Three weeks on- me and feral cat, Miss Purr-fect, self-instituted resident at the hotel we currently call Home, have struck up a taciturn friendship as breakfast companions. I’m convinced she’s been taking note of the time I appear for my breakfast feed although I’ve never been able to figure out the mystery of an animal’s punctuality. If she doesn’t appear as if by magic when I’ve sat down, I stroll over to the hedge and call for her. Often she’s taken the hidden paths known only to creatures of her height. Who me?- she questions me with her eyes, stopping in her tracks. Come on over to my table if you want to, I say to her, returning to my seat. She trails behind me but is always sure to keep that little distance between us as her feral wisdom dictates.

Now that we’ve got the best table, what’s the best thing for breakfast? I run through my mental list of the spread, familiarised through 21 days of the same with some token variation thrown in now and then. Least I misrepresent the efforts and standard of the hotel, I must add that there is ample variety (though repeated) and quantity provided. I’ve offered Purr-fect the sausages and ham which are often rejected. Perhaps that explains her svelte silhouette. Not the processed food, please. Ok I get it- you Cat, me Slave. Back to the buffet table to fetch her other temptations. I take her advice anyway and follow suit- give the lovely processed food preservatives a miss. We concur on the freshly prepared options which we both wolf down in respectable portions.

I settle down to read a chapter over a coffee while she attends to her grooming, missing a grubby patch at the kink of her tail, I noted. I know some catty ways too!

I decide we’ve been acquainted long enough to attempt to give her a fond scratch under the chin. Do NOT touch me, she hisses emphatically and uses her claws in punctuation. Feral cats DO NOT subscribe to caresses, she reminds me. Another reminder from her to keep to the boundaries within mutual respect.

And so we sit in silence together, warmed by the morning sun, enjoying this taciturn relationship for all its routine. What could be more perfect!

Purrfect's breakfast later includes fresh fish picked off the beach, courtesy of the fishermen who have no interest in the juveniles snagged in their nets.

-----That was four weeks ago. We were away from the hotel for two weeks in between and she hasn’t made her appearance since. I can only hope that it was all over a territorial dispute with another cat and not some more unfortunate fate. Perhaps she has found another home by now. Such is the fragility, and heartache, of attempting to build a relationship with feral animals. For that moment in time we attempt to understand each other and I hope, find some connection, maybe affection and mutual respect.

For me it is also a clear and good reminder that we do not always call the shots and that is not always a bad thing. The issue of control, as many reinforcements in our lives might support us to believe otherwise, is not the most important achievement. This may be as Good As It Gets, and there is Much and Enough in itself.

-----Just this week, waiting for Miss Purrfect, another little one has turned up. We’ve nicknamed her Smarty Pants as she displays no fear strutting her way around at breakfast time. An altogether different character to get to know, hardly feral. I have a new breakfast companion and I enjoy the pleasure while I can, remembering Miss Purrfect and how transient many things are.

The Gathering of 24 Thousand

Last week we had a visit from K. She was in KL on a stopover back to Australia, after her tour of Europe. Her enthusiastic accounts of visits and experiences to many famous sites in Europe inspired us to drag her off to see one of Malaysia’s famed sights-the Blue Mosque. We hopped on a train out to Shah Alam to visit the state mosque of Selangor.

Officially known as the the Sultan Salahuddin Abdul Aziz Shah Mosque, (its easy to see why it's simply called the Blue Mosque!) it's the second largest mosque in Southeast Asia, crowned by a 51.2m-diameter blue and silver dome sitting majestically at a height of 106.7m above the ground. Here 24 thousand gather to express their faith.

Four minarets rising 142.2m, the second tallest in the world, carry reverberations of the call to prayer for miles around.

Towering columns and archways accentuate the feeling of lightness and openness. Light and silence surge in to fill every corner.

The elevated inner courtyard, held up by pillars and arches, a typical architectural feature of mosques, stand mute in hushed quietness- a space separated from the world outside.

Only the whisper of the winds stir through the corridors. White marble floor and walls, cool to the touch, reflect everything.

The achromatic architecture changes its mood by the moment, finding life in reflections captured. Storm clouds moving in dim and paint the passages grey, glaring bone-bleached white hurts the eyes where sun rays break through, verdant green peeps through the latticework.





The main prayer hall where only a Muslim may enter, softly lit by sunlight filtered through stained glass.

Happy New Year

Super Natural

I believe in God, only I spell it Nature. - Frank Lloyd Wright, quoted 14 August 1966

TGIM

OMG its Saturday! Sigh. Two days of the week we concede to sharing this little paradise with our like species (the kind we fear most!). We smile graciously but grind our teeth in our sleep at the thought.

Their descent is sudden and purposeful, not unlike an army of worker ants. Streaming out of buses and cars bearing plates from the big city, thronging every corner in dense columns. The different contingents fan out to secure everything that can be secured. The breakfast buffet, the idyllic poolside, the unmarked endless stretch of beach surrendered to the plundering. Everything that can yield amusement is immediately seized upon. “Make hay while the sun shines” is the mission.

We wince at the unmistakable hyped-up enthusiasm echoed in squeals, children screaming and high decibel conversations. In an instant, the cathedrals of silence and calm fall. The paradise they sought trampled underfoot, unnoticed and unmissed.

But all things pass. In 48 hours, the car park is emptied. The tangibles have been carted away by the ant army. The intangibles are miraculously restored, like a wound that heals with no scar and Nature rules again.

Paradise restored.

Thank God it’s Monday!