Tech Talk

On a previous post I have talked about my aversion to things of a modern, technological bent.

No more.

I have just returned from Singapore with this wonderful gadget, a surprise gift for Lina. Its fresh out of the box so it has'nt been given a test run but I'm sure its going to be a handy device.

Isaac turns 4

On a previous post I have written of the ultimate kids birthday party that were, to me at that time, a curious and unfamiliar Malaysian phenomenon.

Love a country - love its customs. Last weekend we laid on our Kiwi version of the Malaysian Birthday Extravaganza when we celebrated Isaac's 4th birthday. Dinosaurs was the theme and for another perspective on such parties in this fine city see this post of a fellow expat KL blogger (and no this was not quite the extravagance of our sons party; although it was pretty close).

Perhaps it's an unusual perspective on my part, regardless, I am firmly of the view that a children's party should also be cause for the adults to leer it up as well. It's difficult standing around at a kids party, clock watching, and longing for the a boredom numbing beverage, whilst the ankle biters are busy having all the fun. With this in mind, in addition to the pass-the-parcel games, chocolate fountain, and fairy bread, we laid on an adult food spread and beers.

So here is a snap taken that day, with more to follow later. We hope the party was enjoyed by young and old alike. Lina and I certainly enjoyed putting it on, and Isaac...... well the picture speaks for itself.

Back in my day.........

Oh no!......I must have been in Malaysia for a while now because I am commenting on 'the good old days'.

Our local neighbourhood is a traditional pocket of KL's satellite city, Petaling Jaya, more specifically the unimaginatively named, Section 17. We actually live in a neighbouring suburb called, you guessed it, Section 16, however 17 is where we go for food, marketing, and other life essentials. Massages for example.

The central point of Section 17 is a park square which is ringed by open drains, Grandma/pa shops, noodle houses, and hawker stalls that have seemingly remained unchanged in living memory. Well, at least for the 5 months I have lived in this hood. In more exotic locales around the world it would be called a plaza. Section 17, as could be presumed from the name, is not exotic, however this should not detract from its unique and particular charms.

The charm is certainly not historical in nature. Petaling Jaya, at most, 50 years old, is an example of post WW2 (sub)urban planning, Malaysia style, as people branched out from the KL inner city to the wide western expanses. The charm lies in sitting down for a bowl of pan mee spicy soup with pork innards and ikan bilis in a open air night market perched on a plastic, backless chair, elboes rested on wobbly plastic table that you share with several other strangers, sweat dripping down your forehead as a result of the 30 degree temperatures, 95% humidity and an additional chillispice factor of 10 degrees for good measure. It lies in nipping down to the kopitam on the square corner by 12 on the dot to get the best char siew in PJ. The owner who looked well past retirement is legendary in these parts and his wares sell out by 1230.

Last night I passed the aforementioned kopitam and was horrified to see it gone. In its place was a monstrosity. A most heinous affliction that is without doubt threatening Malaysia's cultural heritage.

A franchised kopitam. Its name escapes me, suffice to say there are several big names around who are apparently proving successful in spreading their evil scourge on the Malaysian landscape.

These places are hideous, with their pristine photos of old style kopitams adorning the walls. Generically uniformed staff with notepad and pencil to write your order. Chairs so comfortable that people were dozing in them. Jets of spray sending a soothing mist over the patrons as they sip kopi ice, for which they were charged twice as much as the previous establishment. And the scary thing was that the place was full. To the rafters. Malaysians are undeniably aspirational. They want gleaming, shiny, modern things. And places such as these are meeting the demand. What happened in the old days was that the old man owner would pass the business on to his children. In this day and age, the children would rather work for investment banks then slave away in a coffee shop - of course. So in steps the franchise.

Where are my pipe and slippers!

DVD TV Series - Yes Minister

This classic from the eighties has been our regular nighttime viewing of late. Of all the classic television series from this period, Yes Minister is the one I least expected to watch, but what a find its been. Featuring the irritating, self serving, head of the civil service, Sir Humphrey Appleby and the idealistic, yet ultimately equally self serving, Jim Hacker, (Minister of Administrative Affairs), this series was renowned for being Maggie Thatchers favourite programme. Its wonderful political satire and a reminder that the most important thing in TV or movies is the quality of the writing.

Independence Day

Our 3rd Merdeka Day has been and gone in Malaysia. As for the lasting memory of Malaysia's national day: a display of multiple flags that I am quite unaccustomed to in NZ. They are on cars, shops, sides of buildings, anywhere is fair game. And some of them are huge. As a NZer its fair to say the emotional connection with our flag is quite low. How much the flag waving reflects the degree of nationalism and general love for country is unclear. I imagine its just another chance for a public holiday for many Malaysians. The thing I like most about this public holiday, over and above the multitude of other holidays (17 was Lina's count this year) is that the celebration is of secular and non-racial origin. Its a day for all Malaysians unlike the Muslim holy periods, Chinese New Year, and Deepavali which cover the 3 main races in Malaysia. Perhaps that is why Merdeka day is when we hear and read on the government controlled radio and newspapers, the importance of being proud to be Malaysian. Lets hope that its real and not alot of manufactured hot air. I'm a big believer in healthy patriotism and that every country needs a time during the year to do some nationalistic navel gazing free of controversy and debate (would be nice to have this in NZ eh!).

Happy Merdeka Day Malaysia.

Book Review - Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell

Cloud Atlas is a novel by David Mitchell, published in 2004. It consists of 6 stories that are largely stand alone, however are connected. For these connections to become apparent, the reader must have some patience; 100 pages, I was on the brink of banishing it to my ‘Try again later’pile, the saving grace being uninterrupted R & R on a Lang Tengah (see earlier entry) that enabled the breakthrough. My perseverance was rewarded in large measure; however I draw well short of labelling this novel an outstanding piece of work. The breadth of writing styles is unquestionably its strength, ranging from 19th century literature, airport mystery novel style, and science fiction to name a few. Furthermore, Mitchell invents a futuristic English dialect born in a post apocalyptic world hundreds of years in the future. This was certainly no average read.

Mitchell has a fantastic imagination making for a super science fiction element and by the time I had reached the invented English dialect, I was hooked. Which is just as well. It was as comprehensible as an Irvine Welsh character with a speech impediment. This is a remarkable novel for its scope and breadth and you can only respect a writer who has pushed the boundaries this much. Mitchell has described the common themes of the 6 stories; ascent and descent as well as the predatory nature of individual and group. However, the structural connectivity between the stories is too shallow, too implausible, for the sum of its whole to be considered profound. Despite this, for those who enjoy a challenging, and at times brilliantly entertaining read, I highly recommend this novel.

Boys Weekend at Pulau Lang Tengah

I have been on many a ‘boys trip’, whether it be accompanied by good mates or the rugby team. This month I experienced a unique version of this time old tradition when Isaac and I spent a long weekend on the island of Pulau Lang Tengah on Malaysia’s east coast.

This expedition was a last minute arranged affair. Lina, was scheduled for a company trip in Bali during the same weekend (poor thing!), and the original plan was for us lads to hang out in KL. After carefully considering agendas for such a weekend, I did some thinking. A conservative estimate was that we had ridden the underwater walkway at the aquarium 3 times in the last month. Furthermore, the cleaning staff at the national planetarium is now on a first name basis with Isaac following multiple visits over the past year. A breath of fresh air was clearly

required - literally. My only requirement was that it needed to be vastly different from the urban jungle that is KL. Sand and waves would be nice, so after quickly crossing off Sunway Lagoon as an option, I settled on Lang Tengah.

The physical beauty of the Malaysian North-East Coast Islands is spectacular. Our resort was one of only several on this tiny island, nestled in a cove, flanked by rock, with acres of coral below the sea and beyond.

Predictably, there was no challenge in keeping Isaac amused during our 4 day stay. The Malaysian staff and fellow guests were more than happy to assist. Furthermore, after the first day, the staff had satisfied their curiosity as to why this Mat Salleh man was travelling alone with a child. My explanation still drew puzzled stares but presumably it became clear that no kidnapping was involved and therefore no need to call Interpol.

What I love about staying in beach resorts is that if you let yourself, it’s easy to slip into that delightful holiday dreamland state. Where whole books are devoured before lunch. Those same books that, at home, take dozens of before-bedtime sessions. Even the conformity of the regular mealtimes, the predictability of the natural surroundings; these quickly become your friends.

During these 4 days, the pattern of beach strolling at sunrise before breakfast becomes firmly established. Isaac soon sorted his regular haunts and hangouts during the day. Visiting the dive shop to watch the divers suiting up. Lounging poolside, checking on the new arrivals from around the world and what they had to offer. Loitering at the beach, encouraging romantic honeymoon couples to join him in sand castle making. At times I felt a bit like the security attachment, watching, ready to pounce when required; usually to save the other party from any unwanted pestering.

As for activities, the highlight was unquestionably the snorkelling. For those with children who have seen ‘Finding Nemo’ a million times, get the dive mask and snorkel on them as soon as you can, then enjoy the look on their face as they see it in real life for the first time; priceless.

Our accommodation was on the rustic side, the food uninspiring, and there were a few too many cigarette butts littering the ground, however I was not disappointed, simply because I knew what to expect. And, to be honest I like it a bit rough, and Isaac was certainly not concerned in the slightest. We came to the island to enjoy some time away from the city and to spend some quality boy’s time together. Mission accomplished.

Huge lizard wandering through the resort

Isaac acquainting himself with fellow resort inhabitants





Getting and giving some diving tips. Beginner divers in the pool.

The mess hall....I mean dining area.