Didier Drogba

In October 2005, after leading Côte d’Ivoire to the 2006 World Cup finals with a 3-1 defeat of Sudan in Abidjan, captain Drogba asked for a microphone and, live on television, fell to his knees in the changing room with his team mates and pleaded with the warring factions to lay down their arms.

Looking straight into the camera, he said: "Citizens of Côte d’Ivoire from the north, south, centre and west, we beg you on our knees to forgive each other. A great country like Ivory Coast cannot sink into chaos forever. Lay down your weapons and organise elections."

And within a week, they did.....

For more, read

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/sport/football/international/2318500/Didier-Drogba-brings-peace-to-the-Ivory-Coast.html

http://www.thesundaily.com/article.cfm?id=47997

Short Trip to Penang

Short trips are sometimes good. They leave us with little time to get bored and often, when we realise we are tired, we are almost home. It's been ages since we step foot on Penang Island so whe our Italy trip was cancelled owing to the Icelandic volcano ashes and cancelled flight, we went to Penang and Langkawi instead.

Staying at The Gurney Residence at Gurney Drive was a good decisions as it's very convenient with views of the sea. On our last trip, the view of the sea was rather disappointing, more mud that sea but this time changing weather made the same view a kaleidoscope of colours.

Most of the shots were taken from the bathroom where one can enjoy the view while

showering or taking a bath.

The eateries along Gurney Drive - we decided to give the hawkers at the end a miss this time and tried the others. The mango dessert at this quaint little Malay house on stilts called the Crepe Cottage was the best. It brought back child-hood memories of afternoons visiting my classmates and friends in the Malay kampong nearby.

We also went to this heritage mansion called Cheong Fatt Tze, also known as the Blue Mansion. Decades ago when we stayed with Daddy at the cheap but clean Warldorf Hotel across the road, I remembered seeing this run down old building inhabited by some labourers.

Wardorf Hotel with the little old shops which were Cheong's servants' quarters but

are now upmarket restaurants

This multimillionaire Cheong was a big shot with 8 wives and tons of dough and international connections, and this was his favourite house built for his youngest wife and son. But unlike the Chinese saying that wealth cannot be protected handed down for more than three generations, his immediate heirs could not even protect it for one generation and the place became derelict and was destined to be demolished. Fortunately, some Penangnite who appreciated the value of the building managed to salvage and restore it to its former glory. Who could foresee that his success, wealth and glory would be in vain he was once gone!

Below are the rickshaws used for transport and pulled manually

Another ruin of a school with Komtar in the background. The school's name is familiar, I'm sure Mum mentioned it before but I'm not sure if she went there. It's so sad when we come across something and wish we could ask some body, only to realise that the loved one had passed away and we will never be able to talk to them again.

This Thai temple in Burmah Road houses the famous sleeping Buddha.

Local pancake store outside coffeeshop. Everyone waited patiently for ages in the light drizzle for their turn. Penang logic is : anything worth eating involves some hardship and inconvenience so the longer the queue, the more people will want to buy.

The Two Timing Charmer

One day, he just appeared at our doorstep, whined and charmed and soon wheedled his way into our hearts. We spent time talking to him, bought him nice stuff, fed him with the best which he didn't quite appreciate and waited each day for him to make his appearance. On the rare occasions when he didn't appear at meal times, we become worried. Once or maybe twice, he went missing and when we found him, he was badly hurt because of a fight. We had to get medical treatment for his leg which was bandaged and prevent him from going out, something which he didn't like at all. All of which costs $$$$ as he's got no money of his own.

Now he comes and go as he pleases although he's always quite punctual at mealtimes. He even leaves the house in front of our very eyes despite our pleas for him to stay home. On other occasions, he tries to prevent me from leaving the house by sitting on my car.

One day, this woman came to our house and claimed the he was hers but owing to some disturbance and fights, the coward left home and they were frantic, going all over the place looking for him. He greeted her in front of me but didn't follow her when she called him.

From then on, we kept a lookout for where he went and became more suspicious. I found out that he goes to the house across the road which was used as an office of an advertising agency to chitchat and charm the ladies each afternoon teatime. Soon, they even have to audacity to shout for him across the road. He also disappear from the back of the house, sometimes climbing over the wall but even to-date, I have no idea where he goes to.

Nowadays, we find that he doesn't eat very much and tend to leave his food unfinished. Despite all that, his belly is growing. A few weeks ago, we found out that he's actually been sneaking out to lunch to his original home down the road. Not only, that he has also been sleeping there without our knowledge because he seems to be home early in the morning and late at night. Of course if we come home late at night, he will come to us, quite out of breath and sometimes if it's raining, he'll be slightly wet. Been sleeping around, eh? The two timing or maybe three timing animal!

In a way, it's a relief to share him with others and good that he's sleeping at some other beds since we do not let him into the house. What ever it is, we are grateful for the joy he'd brought into our lives and most happy to share him with everyone around.

Thank You Ah Meow!

Failure in Success??

Original full sized painting can be viewed at 

 

http://wolfie-chama.deviantart.com/art/Beautiful-Lies-93475516   

 

   The Race by Norah

When I was still a little girl. Mum taught me how to run, To leap over water puddles And race the setting sun. When I was still in primary school, I learned to shut my mouth, To try to not seem like a fool Though there's something to share about. When I was just a teenager, I learned to run The Race, To turn deaf ears against counsel And wear a stony face. When I was an adult at last, I learned to move ahead, To surpass all by being fast Even when my strength waned. When I had caught up with Old Age, There was none better than I, For I had won The Race -- so what? I missed so much in life. I never looked up at the sky, I was watching my pounding feet; I never stopped to laugh or cry, I thought I would seem weak. I never found my life partner, I did not have time to; I never helped those who fell down, I feared that I might too. I closed my heart and mind and soul And crossed the finishing line, I've won this stupid race -- so what? I wish I was behind. When your daughter writes such a heart-wrenching poem, how not to feel sad and guilty. She wrote this when she was taking her national exams at 17 years of age. All the while, like most other mothers, I would that she would be spared from any pain, any regrets, any failure. But then without failure, where is the success? Without pain, where is the consolation? Then the question is : Have I pushed her too hard? Have I deprived her of the ability to be happy? Can ambition eradicate happiness? Or can it replace it? At the end of the day, in my eagerness to ensure success so that we can help them to achieve financial stability and hopefully happiness, have I taken away the ability to be content, to be at peace?

Fruit Farm Visit in Pahang, Malaysia

         

  

    

 Two friends got together and started this fruit farm in Pahang between Bentong and Raub. Primarily a durian farm, they also grow mangosteens, langsats, rambutans, papayas and some other fruits. 

                         Self-invented contraption for getting the smaller fruits.

                                              Plucking mangosteens

                                               

 Daughter was there the week before on their way back from some camp. When she called me, there was such a racket in the background. She told me some were picking fruits, some were eating, some were just playing with the fruits; some were taking the dog for rides in the scooter, some were going to jump into the pond, some were fishing, some chasing the chickens, some trying to climb trees, etc. Wonderful break for active city kids.

                                            The rambutans were my favourites

 I was rather reluctant to go as I'm not a durian eater. Sad because I think I've got some kind of allergy to the fruit, always developing sorethroats after eating no matter how small the quantity or how I drink salt water from the shell or eat copious number of mangosteens offset the 'heatiness' of the this king of fruits. 

The Westerners say the fruit looks like cream, tastes like custard and smells like shit. The durians available includes most of the popular varieties like the the D24, D101, Red Prawn and the Raja Kunyit ( Mao Sang Wong ) which is the most expensive of the lot. There was much eating coupled with extensive discussion of the texture and taste (whether creamy or bitter or less sweet is better), shape ( regular or odd or oval or round and  size ( big or small or medium ).

Eat and tao-pao ( takeaway) for durian parties. Visitors pays RM10 per head for a eat-all-you-can visit and takeaways are changed according to weight of the fruits.

                            Some brave ones want to camp the night there with 

                         only the mosquitoes and the stars for companionship.

Singapore Trip Dec 2009 Part 2

The Singapore Botanic Gardens had been around as long as I can remember. When we were young, before the onslaught of shopping malls, it was a real treat to be taken there. The main attraction for us kids there were the many monkeys swinging from tree to tree. One could buy a pack of peanuts wrapped in a newspaper and feed them. However some can become aggressive and my sister had the whole packet snatched away at one go. Years later, my son had his plastic ball snatched and tore up by an aggressive fella hoping to find food inside.  Some other complaints of additional bad behaviour got the whole lot of them moved into the zoo.

Chopin and his wife near the orchestra pit       

                                                                                    

This could be a park in summer in Australia or even Europe

             There used to be some black swans but this time, I only saw a couple of white ones.

The lovely water-lily pond                                      

               

The sun-dial

 The pavilion where we had our cell group meetings once upon a time
    

  To my great joy,  the Botanic Gardens had remained fairly unchanged except for some improvement, e.g the spice gardens, a couple of upmarket restaurants, the dearth of mosquitoes who loved me dearly. The main change is the Orchid Garden which have become a paid attraction.We did not get to visit as we were short of time. Instead we sat outside and watched the various  different varieties of doggies, some huge and furry, some tiny and yappy, others still sleek and proud accompanied by Philippino maids who also took the opportunity to fraternalise. These was no sign of the black swans which an the attraction in the 70s. Only a couple of white ones and some ducks were around.  I remember when I was staying in Raffles Hall when the University of Singapore campus was at Bukit Timah, we used to jog in the Botanic Gardens after tea each evening. Sometimes we will ask the kitchen for leftover bread to feed the swans, ducks and fishes.                                                 

                                                     

In the lovely golden afternoon sun, a stroll through the gardens;

on an old wooden bench,

me and my book. 

Forget the neighbouring bustling Orchard Road,

its hurrying crowds and fairy lights,

its dazzling shops and dollar signs;

just give me my peaceful green bit of paradise.

Regrets

On Boxing Day, we attended a Malay wedding. It was at a place called Kampong Medan near the glitzy Sunway Lagoon Resort. In 2001, this little place was the place of a racial tragedy where marginalised part of societies acted out their frustrations against each other, sparked off by a funeral, a wedding and a misunderstanding over a broken lorry window. The result: six people dead and scores of others seriously wounded and a broken trust in the racial harmony that took more than 3o years to rebuild after the horrific May 13th incident in 1969.

 However, two weeks ago, Kampong Medan was a cheerful, noisy place with many Malay weddings, parties and open houses going on. Our friend's wedding was in one of the councils' hall. It was a big affair and though not high budget, it was well-organised by relatives and friends.

All through my life, I had always enjoyed Malay weddings. I love the bersanding when one and all can admire the gorgeously dressed bride and groom. I love the bunga telor in which something so humble as an egg can be so prettily packaged and decorated. Somehow the egg always tastes better than usual. And the door gifts are always so attractively done up no matter how simple its content. This wedding was no different. As often, we were the minority of non-Malays and because of that everyone, hosts and their guests too, tried to make us feel extra-welcomed. I noticed that all the non-Malays were given an additional door gift.

Most memorable was this Malay wedding we attended in a small isolated kampong in Langkawi. We were served endless sumptuous servings of curry chicken, mutton rendang, satan vegetables and colour kueys. As we were leaving, I notice that the other guests were just sharing a bowl of curry with one piece of chicken and  vegetables at each table. It then dawned upon me how poor these people were and how hospital and generous they had been to us because we were not Malays, and really guests in their village.

 In those days, during the wedding season in Langkawi which is usually the schools holidays and after the harvest, I would often see guests going to weddings, carrying with them a gift in a plastic bag. Out of curiosity, I asked what they were giving. It turned out to be two katis of rice or two katis of sugar! Gifts that will definitely be put to good use in the months after when the next harvest season is a long way off.

Yesterday morning, I woke up to a nightmare come true. Two nights ago, my husband was going on about what the Chinese papers said about the use of the word 'Allah' and the court ruling. I shut him up unceremoniously, saying that we shouldn't make a big issue out of the whole thing now that the ruling has been made.  The truth is, I felt uncomfortable about it even though for weeks, we'd been praying in Church for a favourable ruling.   A sense of foreboding that some quarters will not let things rest, I guess. And now it has come true. Many Malaysians of all races and religions are devastated at the bomb attacks at the churches. Something so fragile, so priceless, so precious has once again been shattered. 

Once again, the Agents of Division, of Disorder, of Hatred had scored a victory in Malaysia. But now that the harmony and peace has been severely disrupted and threatened, we pray for the rise of the Defenders of Peace, Tolerance, Humanity and Justice in Malaysia.

Sometimes God works in strange ways and makes good things come out of bad. Of course Marx may regard it as a form of dialectism.