Its been awhile since my last update. Sorry for my tardiness in replying your emails. Life in Shanghai is one of daily sensory overload. New sights, smells and sounds are so abundant and overwhelming that its been hard to find the time to put pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard.
You'll be glad to know that since my last email I've found a great 3-bedroom apartment only 10 minutes walk from uni. I'm sharing with two Filipino students (one gay, one girl). I just bought a bike and am enjoying cycling around the neighbourhood. Bicycles and electric scooters are so numerous here they own the road - cars have to try and muscle their way through the packs of riders, honking incessantly. Crossing the road here is not about looking right and looking left, you have to look 360 degrees at once as there are so many vehicles coming from all directions. It seems years of communism have imbued the chinese with the sense that everyone has equal right of way.
It's hard to believe I've only been in Shanghai for 6 weeks. It's been such an intense experience I feel like I've been here a lot longer. My Chinese is improving in leaps and bounds. With four tones and meanings to every sound, a simple 3 character street name might sound correct in English but have 63 possible incorrect pronunciations in Chinese. When I first arrived in Shanghai, it took me 3 taxis to get out of the airport because the first two taxi drivers couldn't understand me and refused to move from the cab stand. Having unwisely used all my prepaid credit in Malaysia, I had to hijack a mobile phone from an innocent bystander and call a friend to speak to the taxi driver directly.
Ordering food was another unexpected challenge. I would walk around looking for restaurants with reasonable prices, pictures and english menus, often to no avail. On the first day of uni I lined up in the cafeteria three times, only to chicken out at the last moment, because I couldn't read a single word of the menu and the uneducated staff looked very impatient. Eventually, hunger inspired me to copy the person in front of me. I blurted out an approximation of what had just been ordered and scuttled away with my tail between my legs. After a few days I progressed to ordering "niu rou mien" for breakfast, lunch and dinner ahaha.
There's an old saying: "necessity is the mother of invention" and it probably goes further to explaining my rapid acquisition of mandarin skills, than the size of my brain or hours spent studying, because I've been very successful in killing braincells partying with my classmates, and studying is an affliction that is only beginning to spread as we near our mid-term exam. Though in my defence I'd like to think I'm learning mandarin at the coalface of chinese culture by getting out there and interacting with the locals... as they open my beer bottles and massage my feet... yeah...
With only a few weeks of class under my belt I can now control taxi drivers at will and order waiters to bring me more rice and mineral water... with a twist of lemon! Well ok, I don't always get what I asked for, but it sure beats starving!
Speaking of massages, I've enjoyed the first professional massage of my life here in China. Nobody told me massage was supposed to be painful, but I've quickly gotten used to it. It's now become a weekly indulgence, due to the cheap price and my penchant for pain inflicted by young girls. You can get a one hour full body massage here for about $8 aussie... I consider it cheap for 1 on 1 mandarin tuition.
We recently had a one week holiday to celebrate China's National Day. I decided to take a trip into the countryside and follow two of my German classmates to their hometown of Li Shui, in Zhejiang province, about 6 hours drive out of Shanghai. They told me it was a "small" town, but it turns out "small" by Chinese standards is 500,000 people! Although if you consider that the city of Shanghai alone contains the entire population of Australia, it helps put things in perspective.
The holiday in Li Shui was an educational experience. My classmate's uncle illegally migrated to Germany in the late 80s and worked his way up from a kitchenhand to owning two Chinese restaurants. Now back in China he's one of the nouveau riche, with a hotel, mind boggling property developments and several cars including the latest S-class Mercedes. If there's an American dream, then this is the Chinese dream. Driving around in a bright orange Peugeot 206 convertible we were the Kings of Li Shui. In Li Shui you can get a one hour hair and ear wash, with head, shoulders and hand massage for just $2. I'm an impatient man though, I'd rather do it myself in 10 minutes.
Coffee is one of the few things that is more expensive in China, despite being immensely popular. Starbucks is always packed out despite costing the equivalent of 5 meals for one coffee. It's a pricing indiscrepancy that I'm still trying to solve. One day we were sitting in a new five star coffee house enjoying Italian coffee with fresh fruit, when across the road I noticed two restaurant workers squatting outside on the pavement and slaughtering chickens - first slicing the throat, bleeding them, then putting the weakened body under a cane basket. Occasionally a basket would begin to wander away and had to be sat on. The moment struck me as being very China. There's so much money going around which creates the veneer of modernity and luxury, but at the end of the day, there's a billion Chinese out there still spitting, showering, cutting their hair and killing dinner on the pavement.
Some of my American friends can't handle this crudeness, they complain about China all the time. I'm taking it all in my stride though, and really enjoying the student life. Recently I've been going to a lot of house warming parties that resemble United Nations meetings, with Mandarin students from all over the world. The only common language is Chinese, and faltering baby Chinese at that! It's a surreal but fantastic experience to find myself making friends without the use of English. Being practically the only Australian at JiaoTong University, I find myself somewhat of a free agent, spreading myself between the Korean, Japanese, Filipino, Indonesian and American cliques. Although the Filipino's have claimed me as one of their own as I live with two of them and attend all their group functions.
Most of my classmates are overseas born Chinese like myself, mostly from Indonesia and the Philippines. I was surprised to discover that nearly all of them studied at Australian universities. The importance of Australian education in building regional ties cannot be overstated.
Thanks to the generosity of friends who work at events management companies (and friends who forget to renew their visa), I was lucky enough to get free tixx to the Elton John concert, the Shanghai Formula 1, and the Heineken Tennis Open. The F1 was an awesome experience. The cars make the most tremendous sound, which they just don't capture on the television coverage. Elton John was also surprisingly popular here, despite wearing the most horrendous green tracksuit that emphasised his excessively paunchy girth.
I've had some bizarre encounters whilst out on the town. One night I met some drugged up asian homeboys from LA, one of whom actually answered his phone with "Don't fuck with Tony Montana!" Two of these guys are in Shanghai avoiding jail terms in the states. They call it "voluntary parole." But I guess justice works in strange ways because both of them ended up in a Chinese jail a few days after I met them. After my last encounter with asian gang members it was a challenging experience for me to just "chill" with the "ill". When I was asked how I got the scar on my forehead I told them straight out that "someone like you whacked me in the head with a metal chair."
On a lighter note, I was recently set up with a japanese girl who's working here as a swimming coach. Her English is almost non existent so we communicate in a mishmash of broken English, Chinese and one-sided outbursts of Japanese. Our first date ended up being at Pizza Hut, which is a surprisingly classy place in Shanghai... the decor is similar to Hurricanes at Bondi! Anyway the date was quite funny, she made me laugh when halfway through dinner she pulled out a phrasebook titled "Dictionary of English for Unexpected Situations." Later, during a moonlit stroll, she used the book to good effect, directing my attention to a page with the phrase "May I hold your hand?"
Overall, I'm very happy to report that life in Shanghai is everything I expected it to be and more. But a little homesickness is beginning to creep in. The expat life is one of intense but transitory relationships, as most people are just passing through. You bond with people instantly but have to let them go a few months later. So I'm really missing you all back home, and I really miss the beach now that the weather is beginning to turn over here! My friends have warned me that soon I'll be freezing my ass off with subzero temperatures for much of winter.
So for those of you coming to visit me during the Australian Summer Hols, don't forget to bring some warm clothes!
bite the wax tadpole
An intimate scrapbook documenting the trials and tribulations of nereis, our intrepid nematode at large (and a somewhat inconsistent blogger)
Monday, October 18, 2004
Wednesday, September 08, 2004
Ni Hao Cong Shanghai!
I'm writing to you from the international students dormitory at
Shanghai Jiao Tong University, where I'm studying mandarin. I've
learnt so much already, I think I've spoken more chinese in my first
week here than I have in my entire life! Shanghai is an amazing,
bustling metropolis, with incredible contrasts and contradictions.
High tech apartments overlook shanty towns, and there are
disfigured beggars lying in wait outside the flashiest nightclubs,
panhandling the nouveau riche as they walk out to their Porsches and
Mercedes. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw my first Boxster S
here.. it just seems so wrong. But I'm loving it here so far, there's
just so much going on, everyday is full of new experiences. I have
already found part time work and am now planning to extend my studies
to a full year.
Anyway the reason for the hasty email is that I've been getting lots
of concerned emails from home asking if I'm still alive. It's nice to
know you're still thinking of me. Yes I am alive and well in Shanghai!
Sorry I havent been able to write. I've been busy looking for
accomodation ever since I landed here. The realestate industry here is
a shambles. I've looked at over 30 apartments so far. You can't
preview a property here without physically going to the apartment with
the realestate agent... they haven't heard of photos apparently. And
when you get there, the apartment is often in a state of disrepair,
decorated in "untouchable" style, or located in a slum area with dead
rats and homeless people on the street. Bizarrely, we often have to
wait outside the apartment for the landlord to let us in. Negotiations
are a three way affair with both realestate and landlord present. Once
the contract is signed you can move in straight away. Unfortunately -
therein lies the catch. Getting a contract signed here is harder than
winning an olympic gold medal!
Rent in Shanghai is more expensive than I anticipated, especially
around this university as it's near the heart of the city and the real
estate agents know us foreign students desperately need a fixed
address to guarantee our resident's permit. I've teamed up with two
filipino students to look for a 3 bedroom apartment, as it's cheaper
per head than all other accomodation in this area. So far, we've made
offers on 5 propertys. Each time the offer has been accepted by the
landlord, only to be rejected a few days later when it came time to
signing the contract. I'm living in some weird groundhog day from
realestate hell!
Here's a typical story of how bad the realestate ethics are here. We
actually found the perfect 3-bedder in my first week here, and put down
one month's holding deposit on the spot ($6,000 rmb). The next day we
met the landlord at the apartment, to sign the contract. But instead
of signing, he prevaricated for an hour, asking all these questions
about our jobs, nationality, and whether we cooked at home a lot (he
was worried that us dirty unemployed filipinos would damage the new
kitchen). We were beginning to wonder why he was taking so long to
sign the damn contract, when another agent turned up with a korean
couple, who proceeded to look around the apartment. When we asked what
was going on, we were told that this realestate agent was the
landlord's friend, but not to worry - he would sign the contract with
us, we just had to sit tight and give him face, because he had
forgotten to tell his friend to cancel the inspection. When it became
clear the Koreans liked the place and were going to make an offer, we
became very worried and asked our local guide/translator to do
something about it. But when our translator tried to tell the Koreans
that we had already paid a reservation deposit on the apartment, a
huge row ensued. The rival agent started yelling hysterically in
Shanghainese dialect, accusing our translator of trying to poach her business,
and the landlord, smelling a higher offer, took her side and actually
kicked our translator out of the building. He then disappeared with
the Korean couple and never came back. Ten minutes later, we were told
the Koreans had offered $2000 rmb more per month for the apartment and
our deposit would be refunded. No other compensation was offered.
So you can imagine how frustrating it has been. The only upside has
been I've gotten to know the neighbourhood around the university,
walking to all the various properties. But for the moment, I am still
homeless, and searching everyday for a cheap single room, or a
3-bedroom apartment to share with my friends. (The dormitories are
full but I'm on a standby list in case anyone vacates. During my first
few days here, I was able to live at my cousin's empty apartment in
the historic French Concession district of Shanghai, as she had paid
the rent up until Sept 6th. But since she has now emigrated to New Zealand
I had to move out to make room for a new tenant. Thankfully, my
German friend Meng Meng is in town and I've been able to crash at her
beautiful 1800's place across town instead of sleeping on the streets.
It takes me an hour and forty minutes to travel to campus each morning
though, and the public transport experience in Shanghai is not to be
missed! Imagine the Japanese subway stereotype times 2x. Yes, I have
smelt many an armpit during my first 10 days here. Im am planning to
stop showering at the gym in order to wreak my revenge on the locals
ahaha
Anyway I'm almost out of credit here at the internet cafe, so I must
go.
I'm writing to you from the international students dormitory at
Shanghai Jiao Tong University, where I'm studying mandarin. I've
learnt so much already, I think I've spoken more chinese in my first
week here than I have in my entire life! Shanghai is an amazing,
bustling metropolis, with incredible contrasts and contradictions.
High tech apartments overlook shanty towns, and there are
disfigured beggars lying in wait outside the flashiest nightclubs,
panhandling the nouveau riche as they walk out to their Porsches and
Mercedes. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw my first Boxster S
here.. it just seems so wrong. But I'm loving it here so far, there's
just so much going on, everyday is full of new experiences. I have
already found part time work and am now planning to extend my studies
to a full year.
Anyway the reason for the hasty email is that I've been getting lots
of concerned emails from home asking if I'm still alive. It's nice to
know you're still thinking of me. Yes I am alive and well in Shanghai!
Sorry I havent been able to write. I've been busy looking for
accomodation ever since I landed here. The realestate industry here is
a shambles. I've looked at over 30 apartments so far. You can't
preview a property here without physically going to the apartment with
the realestate agent... they haven't heard of photos apparently. And
when you get there, the apartment is often in a state of disrepair,
decorated in "untouchable" style, or located in a slum area with dead
rats and homeless people on the street. Bizarrely, we often have to
wait outside the apartment for the landlord to let us in. Negotiations
are a three way affair with both realestate and landlord present. Once
the contract is signed you can move in straight away. Unfortunately -
therein lies the catch. Getting a contract signed here is harder than
winning an olympic gold medal!
Rent in Shanghai is more expensive than I anticipated, especially
around this university as it's near the heart of the city and the real
estate agents know us foreign students desperately need a fixed
address to guarantee our resident's permit. I've teamed up with two
filipino students to look for a 3 bedroom apartment, as it's cheaper
per head than all other accomodation in this area. So far, we've made
offers on 5 propertys. Each time the offer has been accepted by the
landlord, only to be rejected a few days later when it came time to
signing the contract. I'm living in some weird groundhog day from
realestate hell!
Here's a typical story of how bad the realestate ethics are here. We
actually found the perfect 3-bedder in my first week here, and put down
one month's holding deposit on the spot ($6,000 rmb). The next day we
met the landlord at the apartment, to sign the contract. But instead
of signing, he prevaricated for an hour, asking all these questions
about our jobs, nationality, and whether we cooked at home a lot (he
was worried that us dirty unemployed filipinos would damage the new
kitchen). We were beginning to wonder why he was taking so long to
sign the damn contract, when another agent turned up with a korean
couple, who proceeded to look around the apartment. When we asked what
was going on, we were told that this realestate agent was the
landlord's friend, but not to worry - he would sign the contract with
us, we just had to sit tight and give him face, because he had
forgotten to tell his friend to cancel the inspection. When it became
clear the Koreans liked the place and were going to make an offer, we
became very worried and asked our local guide/translator to do
something about it. But when our translator tried to tell the Koreans
that we had already paid a reservation deposit on the apartment, a
huge row ensued. The rival agent started yelling hysterically in
Shanghainese dialect, accusing our translator of trying to poach her business,
and the landlord, smelling a higher offer, took her side and actually
kicked our translator out of the building. He then disappeared with
the Korean couple and never came back. Ten minutes later, we were told
the Koreans had offered $2000 rmb more per month for the apartment and
our deposit would be refunded. No other compensation was offered.
So you can imagine how frustrating it has been. The only upside has
been I've gotten to know the neighbourhood around the university,
walking to all the various properties. But for the moment, I am still
homeless, and searching everyday for a cheap single room, or a
3-bedroom apartment to share with my friends. (The dormitories are
full but I'm on a standby list in case anyone vacates. During my first
few days here, I was able to live at my cousin's empty apartment in
the historic French Concession district of Shanghai, as she had paid
the rent up until Sept 6th. But since she has now emigrated to New Zealand
I had to move out to make room for a new tenant. Thankfully, my
German friend Meng Meng is in town and I've been able to crash at her
beautiful 1800's place across town instead of sleeping on the streets.
It takes me an hour and forty minutes to travel to campus each morning
though, and the public transport experience in Shanghai is not to be
missed! Imagine the Japanese subway stereotype times 2x. Yes, I have
smelt many an armpit during my first 10 days here. Im am planning to
stop showering at the gym in order to wreak my revenge on the locals
ahaha
Anyway I'm almost out of credit here at the internet cafe, so I must
go.
Sunday, August 29, 2004
Sorry I havent written anything for awhile! I havent been able to log
many hours online for the past few weeks since my cousin's PC blew up
and my social network here in Malaysia has expanded exponentially.
After 6-7 years of daily work and home access to the interweb, it's
taken some adjusting to get used to life offline. I'm sorry I havent
been able to individually reply all your emails. I have enjoyed
reading them however, so keep them coming!
I've got some amazing and funny stories to share with you, some of
which are not suitable for mass consumption ahaha. Let's see how many
I can type out before my brain implodes from the earbashing its
currently getting. Malaysian internet cafes are disturbingly loud
chambers of horror, with booming subwoofers blasting out the latest in
distracting violent video game sound effects and canto techno pop.
My trip down to Singapore was a blast. Thanks to Mike for putting me
up in 5 star resort accomodation and spinning some awesome hiphop! I
attended the premiere of my friend's film "Bubblegum, BJs and Bartop
Dancing" - an amusing mockumentary about the recent legalisation of
bartop dancing in Singapore (they now have their very own Coyote Ugly
bar complete with pole-dancing). The film argued that perhaps it's
also time for the Singapore Govt to revise other anachronistic laws
such as those outlawing the sale of bubblegum and oral sex, for which
you can still get a jail term! But to be fair to Singapore, there's an
ungodly amount of beautiful women there, I've had a great time on both
trips, and am continually impressed with how well-planned, green, and
pleasant the place is. As William Gibson once said -"It's like
Disneyland with the death penalty."
Back in KL, I've made some great friends who are not only fantastic
clubbing buddies but extraordinarily connected and entrepreneurial.
It's been quite inspirational hanging out with them. I've been helping
them out with the launch of their sleepwear label as well as planning
a huge rave party around the F1 Grand Prix in Shanghai... Yes, I've
started to make contacts in Shanghai before even arriving there!
I've been busy the past few days attending meetings, writing copy for
press releases, promotional flyers and sponsorship proposals. I've
also been doing some bizdev and marketing consulting for a skincare
company that sells whitening products. It's been quite a ride.
Naturally, I've also been fervently watching the Olympics and
barracking for both the Aussies and the Chinese into the early hours
of the morning. The Olympic coverage in Malaysia is nothing short of
fantastic - 6x channels covering different sports 24 hours a day. I've
been captivated by the taekwondo and fencing... and I never knew ping
pong and badminton could be so darn sexy. Roughly half the Olympic
coverage in Singapore was dedicated to these two sports. I watched
Singapore's best medal chance, Ronald Susilo, being defeated in the
Badminton Quarterfinals, live on a double-decker bus on my way home to
Holland V from Orchard Rd... if only we had live TV on the public
transport back in Oz eh?
Other local novelties I've taken a shine to, include: ying yong (half
coffee, half tea), boiled coke with ginger (surprisingly medicinal),
late night mee goreng and teh o ais, $4 movie tickets (Aust. cinemas
are a rort), Channel V Asia VJs, red bean ice potong and mango sago
loh (fresh mango puree with crushed ice and sago), bizarre drinking
games (asian's have no concept of "just drinking"), the expletive "Ji
Bai" (ok this is a bit juvenile but I find it amusing that people here
like to yell "vag*ina" in place of "fcuk"), samurai jack & spongebob
square pants (not local but I've been watching alot of TV with my
little cousins) and last but not least, crawling home at 5am and
sleeping under a ceiling fan until 1pm everyday... ah, am I making you
envious???
Anyway I'm flying out of KL tomorrow night and will arrive in Shanghai
8am Monday morning (10am Sydney time). That's when the real adventure
begins! I'm looking forward to the challenge of finding accomodation,
learning the language and settling into a city that boasts the same
population as Australia and Malaysia.
many hours online for the past few weeks since my cousin's PC blew up
and my social network here in Malaysia has expanded exponentially.
After 6-7 years of daily work and home access to the interweb, it's
taken some adjusting to get used to life offline. I'm sorry I havent
been able to individually reply all your emails. I have enjoyed
reading them however, so keep them coming!
I've got some amazing and funny stories to share with you, some of
which are not suitable for mass consumption ahaha. Let's see how many
I can type out before my brain implodes from the earbashing its
currently getting. Malaysian internet cafes are disturbingly loud
chambers of horror, with booming subwoofers blasting out the latest in
distracting violent video game sound effects and canto techno pop.
My trip down to Singapore was a blast. Thanks to Mike for putting me
up in 5 star resort accomodation and spinning some awesome hiphop! I
attended the premiere of my friend's film "Bubblegum, BJs and Bartop
Dancing" - an amusing mockumentary about the recent legalisation of
bartop dancing in Singapore (they now have their very own Coyote Ugly
bar complete with pole-dancing). The film argued that perhaps it's
also time for the Singapore Govt to revise other anachronistic laws
such as those outlawing the sale of bubblegum and oral sex, for which
you can still get a jail term! But to be fair to Singapore, there's an
ungodly amount of beautiful women there, I've had a great time on both
trips, and am continually impressed with how well-planned, green, and
pleasant the place is. As William Gibson once said -"It's like
Disneyland with the death penalty."
Back in KL, I've made some great friends who are not only fantastic
clubbing buddies but extraordinarily connected and entrepreneurial.
It's been quite inspirational hanging out with them. I've been helping
them out with the launch of their sleepwear label as well as planning
a huge rave party around the F1 Grand Prix in Shanghai... Yes, I've
started to make contacts in Shanghai before even arriving there!
I've been busy the past few days attending meetings, writing copy for
press releases, promotional flyers and sponsorship proposals. I've
also been doing some bizdev and marketing consulting for a skincare
company that sells whitening products. It's been quite a ride.
Naturally, I've also been fervently watching the Olympics and
barracking for both the Aussies and the Chinese into the early hours
of the morning. The Olympic coverage in Malaysia is nothing short of
fantastic - 6x channels covering different sports 24 hours a day. I've
been captivated by the taekwondo and fencing... and I never knew ping
pong and badminton could be so darn sexy. Roughly half the Olympic
coverage in Singapore was dedicated to these two sports. I watched
Singapore's best medal chance, Ronald Susilo, being defeated in the
Badminton Quarterfinals, live on a double-decker bus on my way home to
Holland V from Orchard Rd... if only we had live TV on the public
transport back in Oz eh?
Other local novelties I've taken a shine to, include: ying yong (half
coffee, half tea), boiled coke with ginger (surprisingly medicinal),
late night mee goreng and teh o ais, $4 movie tickets (Aust. cinemas
are a rort), Channel V Asia VJs, red bean ice potong and mango sago
loh (fresh mango puree with crushed ice and sago), bizarre drinking
games (asian's have no concept of "just drinking"), the expletive "Ji
Bai" (ok this is a bit juvenile but I find it amusing that people here
like to yell "vag*ina" in place of "fcuk"), samurai jack & spongebob
square pants (not local but I've been watching alot of TV with my
little cousins) and last but not least, crawling home at 5am and
sleeping under a ceiling fan until 1pm everyday... ah, am I making you
envious???
Anyway I'm flying out of KL tomorrow night and will arrive in Shanghai
8am Monday morning (10am Sydney time). That's when the real adventure
begins! I'm looking forward to the challenge of finding accomodation,
learning the language and settling into a city that boasts the same
population as Australia and Malaysia.
Thursday, August 12, 2004
I'm in Kuala Lumpur now, the capital of Malaysia. I'm having a great time here. The tropical weather is a pleasant change from the coldstreets of Sydney. The daytimes are so hot and humid, I've been catching up on lost sleep, after a month of farewell parties, reading up on Shanghai and teaching myself mandarin from a book, going to gym and doing a bit of shopping. Its national sales season at the moment, so all the stores are 50% off.
But Malaysia really comes alive at dusk, when the air cools and everyone comes out to eat. The food here is incredibly cheap and delicious. I'm averaging about 5 meals a day, stuffing myself on the local delicacies, like satay, roti canai, otak otak, loh bak and bakkut teh, before hitting the bars and clubs. There are outdoor foodcourts everywhere and lots of Indian mamak stalls that are open 24 hours, so its easy to find a crowd having supper at 2-3am, even on aMonday! It's one of the things I like best about Asia... the cities never sleep.
I've also been playing a lot of late night snooker and9-ball pool. Snooker is really popular in Malaysia – boys start hanging out in snooker halls from the age of 14, so I've only been able to win one game against the locals so far! But I'm learning some new tricks and improving rapidly with each thrashing!
I have to say the number and size of the clubs here in KL just amazes me, considering the population here is less than Australia's, yet they seem to have twice as many clubs than Sydney and each club is packed out every night of the week. So far I've checked out Bar Med, Rush, Thai Club and Beach Club, which was an interesting mix of gays, drunk gwai-lohs, and prostitutes of indeterminable south east asian heritage.
Bar Med, the first club I visited, contained 3-levels of Hard Rock/Club Med inspired decor, including a giant runway with pool ladders on all sides, so patrons could climb up and shake their booty in front of the entire bar. Of course, as soon as I pointed out to my companions that we don't have anything like this in Australia, I was dragged up onto the bartop and forced to dance in front of the entire bar... and it wasn't even midnight yet! I'm sure we looked like country hicks in the big smoke for the first time, but I took comfort in my anonymity and made the most of the occasion...
Another thing that I've noticed is there is always a huge bottle of Chivas or Johnny Black on the table, as the cover charge system here encourages groups to buy a bottle of spirits and get in for free, or pay $40-60 ringgit per person (includes one standard drink). Alcohol here costs more than Australia, because the Government taxes it to discourage the Muslim Malays from drinking. Last night we joined a group who were drinking from a super-sized 5litre bottle of Chivas (it cost around $600 aussie), which came mounted in a special, tilting bottle glorifier to make the pouring easier. Ice and mixers are provided for free, and if you cant finish the bottle on the night, they put your name on it, mark the spirit level and put it in a cabinet for your next visit. The racks of half-finished Chivas bottles in each club is a sight to behold, sometimes taking up an entire wall! I've never seen anything like it before.
I love how the DJ's here mash up all musical genres, and the enthusiastic crowds just eat it up! You may go to a club known for good R&B or electro, when all of a sudden, a commercial radio song like Numb by Lincoln Park will come on, everyone starts pogoing and shouting, and even the bartenders will be up on the bar, headbanging and air guitaring in a KL rendition of Coyote Ugly! Beach Club likes to end the night on a super-fast version of the Malaysian Anthem... very amusing.
I've been learning to get around town in my grandfather's beaten-up Proton (Malaysia's national car maker), using a walkie-talkie to keep in touch with my friends, as they weave in and out of traffic, narrowly avoiding scooters and trucks. Driving in Malaysia is an exhilarating but hair-raising experience. Road-rules are generally ignored unless the police are around. Any comment I make about seatbelts, red lights, speed limits and drink driving, are all swept away with the same excuse of "Don't worry, lah! This is Malaysia!" Drivers here don't indicate, they just drift in and out of lanes. I've experienced some terrifying high-speed lane merges with only inches between the cars. That being said, it's a lot of fun driving in all this anarchy.You quickly learn to develop an intuition for traffic patterns and just "go with the flow." And in my case, I actually feel safer behind the wheel, than riding shotgun with my kamikaze KL friends.
I may be heading down to Singapore this weekend for the opening night party of my friend's movie (a provocative documentary on blowjobs of all things! Oral sex being still illegal in Singapore. Anyway I'll write more when I get back!
But Malaysia really comes alive at dusk, when the air cools and everyone comes out to eat. The food here is incredibly cheap and delicious. I'm averaging about 5 meals a day, stuffing myself on the local delicacies, like satay, roti canai, otak otak, loh bak and bakkut teh, before hitting the bars and clubs. There are outdoor foodcourts everywhere and lots of Indian mamak stalls that are open 24 hours, so its easy to find a crowd having supper at 2-3am, even on aMonday! It's one of the things I like best about Asia... the cities never sleep.
I've also been playing a lot of late night snooker and9-ball pool. Snooker is really popular in Malaysia – boys start hanging out in snooker halls from the age of 14, so I've only been able to win one game against the locals so far! But I'm learning some new tricks and improving rapidly with each thrashing!
I have to say the number and size of the clubs here in KL just amazes me, considering the population here is less than Australia's, yet they seem to have twice as many clubs than Sydney and each club is packed out every night of the week. So far I've checked out Bar Med, Rush, Thai Club and Beach Club, which was an interesting mix of gays, drunk gwai-lohs, and prostitutes of indeterminable south east asian heritage.
Bar Med, the first club I visited, contained 3-levels of Hard Rock/Club Med inspired decor, including a giant runway with pool ladders on all sides, so patrons could climb up and shake their booty in front of the entire bar. Of course, as soon as I pointed out to my companions that we don't have anything like this in Australia, I was dragged up onto the bartop and forced to dance in front of the entire bar... and it wasn't even midnight yet! I'm sure we looked like country hicks in the big smoke for the first time, but I took comfort in my anonymity and made the most of the occasion...
Another thing that I've noticed is there is always a huge bottle of Chivas or Johnny Black on the table, as the cover charge system here encourages groups to buy a bottle of spirits and get in for free, or pay $40-60 ringgit per person (includes one standard drink). Alcohol here costs more than Australia, because the Government taxes it to discourage the Muslim Malays from drinking. Last night we joined a group who were drinking from a super-sized 5litre bottle of Chivas (it cost around $600 aussie), which came mounted in a special, tilting bottle glorifier to make the pouring easier. Ice and mixers are provided for free, and if you cant finish the bottle on the night, they put your name on it, mark the spirit level and put it in a cabinet for your next visit. The racks of half-finished Chivas bottles in each club is a sight to behold, sometimes taking up an entire wall! I've never seen anything like it before.
I love how the DJ's here mash up all musical genres, and the enthusiastic crowds just eat it up! You may go to a club known for good R&B or electro, when all of a sudden, a commercial radio song like Numb by Lincoln Park will come on, everyone starts pogoing and shouting, and even the bartenders will be up on the bar, headbanging and air guitaring in a KL rendition of Coyote Ugly! Beach Club likes to end the night on a super-fast version of the Malaysian Anthem... very amusing.
I've been learning to get around town in my grandfather's beaten-up Proton (Malaysia's national car maker), using a walkie-talkie to keep in touch with my friends, as they weave in and out of traffic, narrowly avoiding scooters and trucks. Driving in Malaysia is an exhilarating but hair-raising experience. Road-rules are generally ignored unless the police are around. Any comment I make about seatbelts, red lights, speed limits and drink driving, are all swept away with the same excuse of "Don't worry, lah! This is Malaysia!" Drivers here don't indicate, they just drift in and out of lanes. I've experienced some terrifying high-speed lane merges with only inches between the cars. That being said, it's a lot of fun driving in all this anarchy.You quickly learn to develop an intuition for traffic patterns and just "go with the flow." And in my case, I actually feel safer behind the wheel, than riding shotgun with my kamikaze KL friends.
I may be heading down to Singapore this weekend for the opening night party of my friend's movie (a provocative documentary on blowjobs of all things! Oral sex being still illegal in Singapore. Anyway I'll write more when I get back!
Wednesday, January 21, 2004
Gong Hei Fat Choy... its Chinese New Year's Eve. Good luck to all you monkeys out there...
1977
The Snake is the sign of wisdom. A sign rich in charm and wisdom. You are romantic and deep-thinking. You are an intense personality and gravitate toward physical beauty. An air of mystery surrounds you. You are shrewd in business and are often financially successful. You have a deep sense of morality and a strong sense of destiny. Your intuition guides you strongly. But keep your sense of humor about life. You are a good decision-maker but you can be hot-tempered.
Love
You tend to be very selective as to who you settle down with as you are a sensual person with deep passion.
Color
Red, a color associated with good fortune and happiness.
Ideal Partner
The Rooster or Ox.
Chinese Proverb
A wise man makes his own decisions, an ignorant man follows public opinion.
1977
The Snake is the sign of wisdom. A sign rich in charm and wisdom. You are romantic and deep-thinking. You are an intense personality and gravitate toward physical beauty. An air of mystery surrounds you. You are shrewd in business and are often financially successful. You have a deep sense of morality and a strong sense of destiny. Your intuition guides you strongly. But keep your sense of humor about life. You are a good decision-maker but you can be hot-tempered.
Love
You tend to be very selective as to who you settle down with as you are a sensual person with deep passion.
Color
Red, a color associated with good fortune and happiness.
Ideal Partner
The Rooster or Ox.
Chinese Proverb
A wise man makes his own decisions, an ignorant man follows public opinion.
Suffering
Suffering arises from attachment to desires
Suffering can be overcome when attachment to desires ceases
The human tendency is to avoid the difficult truths of life and this in turn leads to suffering.
The root of suffering can be defined as a craving or clinging to the wrong things; searching for stability in a suffering world is the wrong way.
Karma
Actions have consequences; so our lives are conditioned by our past actions.
On Love
Too many people are trying to meet the right person instead of trying to be the right person.
from So So
Suffering arises from attachment to desires
Suffering can be overcome when attachment to desires ceases
The human tendency is to avoid the difficult truths of life and this in turn leads to suffering.
The root of suffering can be defined as a craving or clinging to the wrong things; searching for stability in a suffering world is the wrong way.
Karma
Actions have consequences; so our lives are conditioned by our past actions.
On Love
Too many people are trying to meet the right person instead of trying to be the right person.
from So So
Friday, January 16, 2004
"Insanely Happy"
15th January 2004
2.50am
I sat in a courtroom last night where the defendant was a friend and he was being judged.
His crime: following your heart.
Defendant: "..if anything, her innocence is a plus…”
Prosecutor: “I don’t believe that a long distance relationship with a 16 year old will work. Let me ask you a few questions my friend, everybody just shut up while I ask these questions…what do you define as love? What is love? Do you love her or are you in love?….There are plenty of girls in Sydney who could do it for you.”
Defendant: “I know that, but I don't feel anything for them”
I cannot remember what he said further in response but I do remember he used the words “insanely happy” and “pure and simple”.
Defendant: “All I know is that I am insanely happy when I am with her. I was attracted to her from the moment we met… But I am trying to limit my expectations. There are so many obstacles... distance, time, culture. Its a long shot... But how romantic would it be if it all works out?”
It was a futile conversation - an exchange of views that may also be perceived as a match between two arrogant minds. The prosecutor is adamant that his opinions are valid and universal. The defendant can see where he is coming from but refuses to be deterred by such views that he once held as well. He sees reflections of himself in the prosecutor who is taking this opportunity to release the bitterness, frustration and pain of losing the love of his life. The prosector is yet to learn, mature and move on from his bad taste of the world. On the other hand, it may be beneficial for the defendant to realise that what he is doing is self-indulgent and potentially obstructive.
This is not a question of right or wrong and whether the defendant has committed a crime for either deduction has its justifications attached to it regardless of how twisted or superficial, impractical and unrealistic.
This is more a question of why? The deed has been done but why did he do it? And the defendant answers plainly and directly “I am insanely happy when I am with her”.
He is “insanely happy”…
There was so much that I wanted to contribute to that conversation but could not find the energy or appropriate level of emotional temperament to expound my thoughts, especially with enough passion so that they may prevail over the defendant’s. My weak narcotic-induced physical state disabled me from enabling the necessary connections between my heart, my mind and my voice, which is why I now sit here typing away at 3am in the morning.
This is what I wanted to say..
“Insanely happy” – seeking refuge – seeking sense amongst what does not and then attempting to make sense through one another.
The use of the word “insanely” suggests emotions of transitory manner and degree. It is an extreme feeling that cannot be sustained. Insanity cannot be lived. It is not a lifestyle. It is a state of mind and states of mind are not stagnant.
To be insane is to be mentally disordered whereby one is not of sound mind and is mentally unbalanced. A person who is insane does not make sense.
When one is happy, feelings of pleasure, delight and contentment combine to create a powerful substance whereby wanting more of it also generates the production of the malicious emotional matter known as disappointment.
As a juror, the defendant appears to have taken all material and practical aspects of this romance into account, especially in relation to the future. Will pure and simple happiness hold significance when the insane happiness retires from its role – when it has reached the end of its function and all that it is defined to do?
Do you move on or salvage what remains? The latter being a desperate endeavour to prolong the insane happiness - to fuck with fate and assume the fate-maker’s role – where you are no longer the actor but the director of the film - to falsely convince yourself that extremities of emotions can be retained for an infinite period of time when in reality, it is exposing yourself to potential damage. It is fundamentally unhealthy and greedy.
The defendant: It is pure and simple.
His idea of love is that it is unspoiled, clear and free from contamination - something close to his subjective understanding of perfection (for perfection is overrated and often unattainable).
Somehow the defendant has transposed this purity and simpleness to her youth, naivety and innocence. He won’t let go because her appearance into his life has inspired him again. The enthusiasm to seek and experience that euphoric state of mind known as love has been activated.
She represents happiness but she is not happiness itself. She is just a girl. She does not know what she wants and she has yet to see and experience. She is yet to discover and learn for herself. She is yet to grow. She does not know what happiness means so how can she know what love is?
Self-discovery is a vital human process. To be the Prince who comes riding on a white horse to save her from the burning tower is to obstruct her ability to seek clarity and truth for herself.
Sometimes I see myself as a free baby bird that flies back to her mother in the nest where she was born, raised and protected. What my mother has built for me in that nest is irreplaceable. When I fly back to the nest, it is because I know that my mother has built a strong one for me so that I may know what true strength and love for another means. To go back to the nest is to acknowledge my mother’s efforts and substantiate my appreciation and respect.
Once, I was offered the prospect of a bigger and better nest. All I had to do was fly away from the one I was living in already. .. fly far far away….away from everything that meant anything…
So tempting and self-indulgent. That guarantee of warmth and comfort and freedom from the confines of what was already built for me at home.
Being completely consumed by the freshness, the overwhelming sense of pleasure, the warmth and the security, it was easy to forget how to be realistic.
Fortunately, the one who offered me the haven of happiness realised in time. He let me go and withdrew from our dream and it was within that moment that insane happiness became insanity.
What I thought made sense revealed to be senseless. What I believed was pure and simple exposed a harsh reality that I blinded myself to, be it deliberately or subconsciously – it still represents a refusal to acknowledge the transparency of the situation.
The truth was always there – it can never be eradicated – it may be denied and ignored but it will never go away.
Instead of salvaging, he preserved. He cut our losses short. Instead of taking the risk, he chose to protect. Instead of sticking more pins in, he threw the pins away.
What we had was pure and simple and he left it at that. He did not want a struggle to survive.
It was my youth and my naivety that made me fail to realise that in the end, what I interpreted to be an act of cruelty, selfishness and inconsideration was actually altruistic.
Why did he break up with me? If he loved me, why did he leave me?
I loved him. He loved me.
One year later…
Because he loved me.
My memory of him is only of beautiful things … walking in the rain, conversations in bed, the silence of having nothing to say as he held me – how that silence would be discomforting amongst other company.
I imagine what life would be like now if we had pursued that relationship beyond our practical limits. Our lives would be reduced to agonising over the future…constant longing, insecurities, he may be a long distance phone call away but he is far away … as I am far away to him.
Instead of preserving long distance phone calls and late night ICQ dialogues, he chose to preserve our warm embraces, our eye contact, our smiles – elements of the real relationship that we had. We couldn’t prolong it so he bottled it before the insane happiness was due to expire.
At first, I did not understand – why let go of a good thing? Now I understand - it is because it was a good thing. The moment I stepped into the departure gates of the airport was where the good thing could either be retained in its beautiful form as a memory and an experience or it could continue and become a struggle that I would deny and mentally strain myself over throughout the flight and afterwards. The latter inhibiting my capacity to grow and mature for myself as the only me in the Universe.
Therefore, love can be pure and simple. But in order for it to last requires a strength that is sown, slowly grown, nurtured and harvested when ripe. Strength cannot be given to us and it cannot be requested. Pure strength comes from within – an intricate combination of mental and emotional ingredients unique to each individual. Love is created when two strengths combine to create a powerful substance – the substance is balanced, light and stable – a composition that is damn good for those who use the ingredients with care but toxic to those who do not.
I wouldn’t mind meeting my compatible strength.
Like pain, love is powerful. Two strengths may also combine to create pain, which is usually not realised until the pain is felt. The manner and degree of pain or love does not matter. It is still pain and it is still love. Big win, small win – still a win. Big loss or small loss – still a loss.
You create your own adventures with all its dragons and treasures…
15th January 2004
2.50am
I sat in a courtroom last night where the defendant was a friend and he was being judged.
His crime: following your heart.
Defendant: "..if anything, her innocence is a plus…”
Prosecutor: “I don’t believe that a long distance relationship with a 16 year old will work. Let me ask you a few questions my friend, everybody just shut up while I ask these questions…what do you define as love? What is love? Do you love her or are you in love?….There are plenty of girls in Sydney who could do it for you.”
Defendant: “I know that, but I don't feel anything for them”
I cannot remember what he said further in response but I do remember he used the words “insanely happy” and “pure and simple”.
Defendant: “All I know is that I am insanely happy when I am with her. I was attracted to her from the moment we met… But I am trying to limit my expectations. There are so many obstacles... distance, time, culture. Its a long shot... But how romantic would it be if it all works out?”
It was a futile conversation - an exchange of views that may also be perceived as a match between two arrogant minds. The prosecutor is adamant that his opinions are valid and universal. The defendant can see where he is coming from but refuses to be deterred by such views that he once held as well. He sees reflections of himself in the prosecutor who is taking this opportunity to release the bitterness, frustration and pain of losing the love of his life. The prosector is yet to learn, mature and move on from his bad taste of the world. On the other hand, it may be beneficial for the defendant to realise that what he is doing is self-indulgent and potentially obstructive.
This is not a question of right or wrong and whether the defendant has committed a crime for either deduction has its justifications attached to it regardless of how twisted or superficial, impractical and unrealistic.
This is more a question of why? The deed has been done but why did he do it? And the defendant answers plainly and directly “I am insanely happy when I am with her”.
He is “insanely happy”…
There was so much that I wanted to contribute to that conversation but could not find the energy or appropriate level of emotional temperament to expound my thoughts, especially with enough passion so that they may prevail over the defendant’s. My weak narcotic-induced physical state disabled me from enabling the necessary connections between my heart, my mind and my voice, which is why I now sit here typing away at 3am in the morning.
This is what I wanted to say..
“Insanely happy” – seeking refuge – seeking sense amongst what does not and then attempting to make sense through one another.
The use of the word “insanely” suggests emotions of transitory manner and degree. It is an extreme feeling that cannot be sustained. Insanity cannot be lived. It is not a lifestyle. It is a state of mind and states of mind are not stagnant.
To be insane is to be mentally disordered whereby one is not of sound mind and is mentally unbalanced. A person who is insane does not make sense.
When one is happy, feelings of pleasure, delight and contentment combine to create a powerful substance whereby wanting more of it also generates the production of the malicious emotional matter known as disappointment.
As a juror, the defendant appears to have taken all material and practical aspects of this romance into account, especially in relation to the future. Will pure and simple happiness hold significance when the insane happiness retires from its role – when it has reached the end of its function and all that it is defined to do?
Do you move on or salvage what remains? The latter being a desperate endeavour to prolong the insane happiness - to fuck with fate and assume the fate-maker’s role – where you are no longer the actor but the director of the film - to falsely convince yourself that extremities of emotions can be retained for an infinite period of time when in reality, it is exposing yourself to potential damage. It is fundamentally unhealthy and greedy.
The defendant: It is pure and simple.
His idea of love is that it is unspoiled, clear and free from contamination - something close to his subjective understanding of perfection (for perfection is overrated and often unattainable).
Somehow the defendant has transposed this purity and simpleness to her youth, naivety and innocence. He won’t let go because her appearance into his life has inspired him again. The enthusiasm to seek and experience that euphoric state of mind known as love has been activated.
She represents happiness but she is not happiness itself. She is just a girl. She does not know what she wants and she has yet to see and experience. She is yet to discover and learn for herself. She is yet to grow. She does not know what happiness means so how can she know what love is?
Self-discovery is a vital human process. To be the Prince who comes riding on a white horse to save her from the burning tower is to obstruct her ability to seek clarity and truth for herself.
Sometimes I see myself as a free baby bird that flies back to her mother in the nest where she was born, raised and protected. What my mother has built for me in that nest is irreplaceable. When I fly back to the nest, it is because I know that my mother has built a strong one for me so that I may know what true strength and love for another means. To go back to the nest is to acknowledge my mother’s efforts and substantiate my appreciation and respect.
Once, I was offered the prospect of a bigger and better nest. All I had to do was fly away from the one I was living in already. .. fly far far away….away from everything that meant anything…
So tempting and self-indulgent. That guarantee of warmth and comfort and freedom from the confines of what was already built for me at home.
Being completely consumed by the freshness, the overwhelming sense of pleasure, the warmth and the security, it was easy to forget how to be realistic.
Fortunately, the one who offered me the haven of happiness realised in time. He let me go and withdrew from our dream and it was within that moment that insane happiness became insanity.
What I thought made sense revealed to be senseless. What I believed was pure and simple exposed a harsh reality that I blinded myself to, be it deliberately or subconsciously – it still represents a refusal to acknowledge the transparency of the situation.
The truth was always there – it can never be eradicated – it may be denied and ignored but it will never go away.
Instead of salvaging, he preserved. He cut our losses short. Instead of taking the risk, he chose to protect. Instead of sticking more pins in, he threw the pins away.
What we had was pure and simple and he left it at that. He did not want a struggle to survive.
It was my youth and my naivety that made me fail to realise that in the end, what I interpreted to be an act of cruelty, selfishness and inconsideration was actually altruistic.
Why did he break up with me? If he loved me, why did he leave me?
I loved him. He loved me.
One year later…
Because he loved me.
My memory of him is only of beautiful things … walking in the rain, conversations in bed, the silence of having nothing to say as he held me – how that silence would be discomforting amongst other company.
I imagine what life would be like now if we had pursued that relationship beyond our practical limits. Our lives would be reduced to agonising over the future…constant longing, insecurities, he may be a long distance phone call away but he is far away … as I am far away to him.
Instead of preserving long distance phone calls and late night ICQ dialogues, he chose to preserve our warm embraces, our eye contact, our smiles – elements of the real relationship that we had. We couldn’t prolong it so he bottled it before the insane happiness was due to expire.
At first, I did not understand – why let go of a good thing? Now I understand - it is because it was a good thing. The moment I stepped into the departure gates of the airport was where the good thing could either be retained in its beautiful form as a memory and an experience or it could continue and become a struggle that I would deny and mentally strain myself over throughout the flight and afterwards. The latter inhibiting my capacity to grow and mature for myself as the only me in the Universe.
Therefore, love can be pure and simple. But in order for it to last requires a strength that is sown, slowly grown, nurtured and harvested when ripe. Strength cannot be given to us and it cannot be requested. Pure strength comes from within – an intricate combination of mental and emotional ingredients unique to each individual. Love is created when two strengths combine to create a powerful substance – the substance is balanced, light and stable – a composition that is damn good for those who use the ingredients with care but toxic to those who do not.
I wouldn’t mind meeting my compatible strength.
Like pain, love is powerful. Two strengths may also combine to create pain, which is usually not realised until the pain is felt. The manner and degree of pain or love does not matter. It is still pain and it is still love. Big win, small win – still a win. Big loss or small loss – still a loss.
You create your own adventures with all its dragons and treasures…
Monday, November 17, 2003
Have just finished packing the last of my stuff into boxes. I've hired a truck to move it all to my new apartment tomorrow.
I suddenly realise, tonight is my last night in the family home. It's quietly depressing emptying out one's room. Taking down those pictures, removing all the personal clutter, so carefully layered over time. Discovering lost objects amongst the dust bunnies, letters and presents from friends, assorted hair thingies left behind by ex-girlfriends, receipts for year's of purchases... It's either in the bin or a box now. I've given my space back to the void ... it will no longer be an extension of me.
Tomorrow, this room will be empty, and I will be living on my own.
One half of me shouts hurrah! The other half wipes a tear away.
I suddenly realise, tonight is my last night in the family home. It's quietly depressing emptying out one's room. Taking down those pictures, removing all the personal clutter, so carefully layered over time. Discovering lost objects amongst the dust bunnies, letters and presents from friends, assorted hair thingies left behind by ex-girlfriends, receipts for year's of purchases... It's either in the bin or a box now. I've given my space back to the void ... it will no longer be an extension of me.
Tomorrow, this room will be empty, and I will be living on my own.
One half of me shouts hurrah! The other half wipes a tear away.
Wednesday, October 22, 2003
At 15, Annabelle was one of those rare beauties who can make every man's head turn - regardless of age or physical fitness. She was one of the few who could send pulses racing in young and old and cause old men to groan with regret simply by walking down the street. She quickly noticed the silence that followed her appearance in a cafe or a classroom, but it would be years before she completely understood it. At the CEG in Crecy-en-Brie, it was common knowledge that she and Michel were 'together', but even if they had not been, no boy would have dared try it on with her. The terrible predicament of a beautiful girl is that only an experienced womaniser, someone cynical and without scruple, feels that he is up to the challenge. More often than not, she will lose her virginity to some filthy lowlife in what can prove to be the first step in an irrevocable decline.
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