Dilly-Dallying

Two days ago, I had my first away day for this year at Port Dickson. It was on a Friday and I happily decided to skip work. I woke up at 8.00 am (half an hour later than the usual time I take the tube to the Twin Towers). Since I had ample time, I hand-washed my best clothes, hung them on the clothes lines and left it to dry, had my cereal for breakfast, cleaned my room and gave it a sweep, kept everything in their places before I left for PD.

I thought we were supposed to meet up at 10.30. Turns out I was late for 30 minutes.

Wow! I thought my friends were going to fire me. Thankfully, they didn't . Instead, they resumed talking about the movie 'Fast and Furious' as I stepped into the car. Ahhhh... good for them, and me!

First Impressions

The point of having an away day is to enable members of a team to get to know each other better. The need for having this day has been present since the day I joined.

I still remember the first day I joined this department. The only persons who were friendly were the secretaries, technical assistants and 2 cynical characters who possessed a weird sense of humour.

The very first comment that the department's most cynical characters said to me was, "Wow! You are so perky, bright and cheerful! What a great contrast that is to our atmosphere here. Welcome to our department, Billie Jean. The work may be crappy, but hey, who knows! you might like it! So, good luck. You'll need it!"

The rest of the characters just looked up and gave me a silent smile, and a firm handshake, giving me the idea that I have truly joined a department that is serious about its work. The first day I joined, I was overjoyed. I will be working for real once I 'm here. No more chatting during working hours, no more surfing on the net for daily newspaper articles, no more thoughts about furthering my studies, no more idle wondering about 'Hmm.... what about applying to other companies, just to see if I'm employable?'. No. Those thoughts will be banished. From now on, it will be just work, work, and work.

Reality Sets In

I work for an organization who takes pride in striking a balance between work and life, commonly known as 'work-life' balance. Frankly, throughout my 3 years of working here, I have only experienced it once, and that, was in my first year within the organization. At that time, I experienced a wholesome experience of planning in the office, communicating with contractors, executing the job on-site on the ocean, interacting with more people apart from contractors, getting the data that I need, analyzing it in the office and producing reports on the job.

After a completed cycle, I will get 2 weeks off, just to compensate for the hardship experienced. (Although at that time, I didn't think that it was hardship at all. I was only too happy to work , and to earn d extra holidays, which allowed me to travel to every country, as often as I liked.) I even had the chance to sit at home and watch countless movies, write to my heart's content and engage in endless banter.

I have digressed. Back to my current situation.

In my first few months in the new department, life was hectic. First, I had to embrace hydrocarbon accounting. Personally, I don't like numbers very much. To me, they only end up confusing my light, feather-haired brains. I love descriptions. I love sceneries. I love reading and writing of all sorts. Not numbers. They confuse me, more than making me alive.
So, for the first quarter, I spent countless nights staying up, balancing the spreadsheets, ensuring the numbers tallied with each other, from one worksheet to another. I had to colour code each cell, each section, bolding the titles, checking it for every well, every string, every reservoir and countless other spreadsheets to ensure it tallied.

When it didn't tally, I often turned to my housemate who was in the banking industry, who did accounting with real money on a daily basis. She was such an excellent help that she solved everything in just a matter of seconds, which, if it were left up to me, would have taken me days and hours just to find out the source of the error.

Later on, I was assigned to help out in the interpretation and analysis of data from other fields. Analyzing pressure data was what I loved. So, soon, I got so involved in the job that I began spending more and more time at the office, discussing with geologists, fellow reservoir engineers, geophysicists and countless other professions on the possibilities of existing barriers.

At the same time, I was exposed to an entirely new aspect of my job, which was dealing with entirely new softwares and forecasting numbers. The first time I did it, I cried to my heart's content. Wondering what on earth did I do wrong to deserve all these hardship. Couldn't we just outsource it to any of the available engineers around us? Nevertheless, in times like these, jobs are hard to come by. Challenging as it may be, I just have to 'suck it up' , be a dear, and finish up my job. I came to the office on weekends and stayed on until late in the night, just to view the results and submit a few more runs before I returned home.

It was a hectic, and tiring journey. Had there been bathrooms and beds present next to my workstation, I would have been so glad to be able to just live there forever.

The job took 6 months to complete. When the job was approved and the reporting cycle had ended, I was so relieved. Suddenly, I looked up and saw that I had turned into a sulky, anti-social, temperamental individual. I had skipped lunches, dinners, just to finish up the work. I had less lunch appointments. I had less exercise regimes. I hadn't even travelled to any of the countries that I have been planning all this while at all too!

Oh! No! Where had all the time gone to? What have I done with my previous, perky, bright and cheerful, innocent self? Oh no! I........ have been transformed into an a typical gray rat with whiskers, who rode on the rodent's vicious wheel of life, cycling and cycling non stop on the wheel of no return.

That, was when I uttered, "Congratulations, Jean. Welcome to the rat race."

Relationships

As humans, we thrive on relationships. Whether it is with our family members, colleagues, friends, strangers or acquaintances; good or bad, mutual or non-mutual, we need to communicate.

As much as we love communicating, very often, the time to yearn to know somebody better just isn't there due to the limiting conditions of the environment. Hence, the need for conducting a team building session. This, is the time that we need to rekindle our feelings for each other. To understand why we should respect each other's boundaries in the first place. To put ourselves in the shoes of others and look at the world from their perspectives. To get a thorough view on the conditions and situations that moulded them into who they are, standing in front of us today.

Why is a person so pushy? Why is that person so patient? Why is this person so confident of his leadership capabilities in all situations? Why is he so charismatic? Why is she so docile? These questions are usually answered during a team building session.

The need to remind everyone of our vision and mission every year lingers in the air. What with our daily hectic schedules and lifestyles, most of us don't even give second thoughts to our organization's vision, unless it's being indoctrinated into our souls day and night.


Strength is in numbers. As long as we work towards one common objective, success is in our hands. Hence, the need of a team building session, where staff from the same department eat, live, play, think and even sleep with each other for at least 3 days and 2 nights, sharing and talking about everything under the sun. Creating a positively, happy atmosphere; a lifetime of remembrance; where everybody goes back feeling fulfilled, knowing full well that at the end of the day, they got to know their colleagues better than ever before.

Port Dickson

So, what does my lamentations/grouses/broodings above have anything to do with the theme of my blog, which is supposed to be based on holidays?

First of all, my company trip was supposed to be a fun-filled, relaxing time away from the office, where everybody will get to know people they have never interacted with on a personal level. Second of all, it was supposed to be a holiday. All play and no work.

Well, to say the very least, the session was only enliven up on the last day of the event, where the 2 most important elements above were combined. The first day was all work. The early second half of the day was about work as well. The later second half of the day were spent walking aimlessly around the grounds of the hotel, looking for supposedly hidden 'clues' and 'treasures'.

On the third day, we played charades . A game, which didn't require words (Thank God!) and only pure, immediate actions. God knows how much we need charades in our daily employment. An organization can't be filled with only people who just talk and voice out their ideas and expect little minions to execute their plans. People who come up with zillions of innovative ideas , whose only effort to ensure the ideas are acted upon are through emails and instructions.

It was fun because everybody played their parts with such excellence. Roles were well defined. Everybody understood that it was a process that each of them had to go through. Laughter abundant, jokes anticipated at every corner.

It is ironic that out of the 6 sessions spent together, I only enjoyed the last. Perhaps, sessions like these are not meant for enjoyment. More for re-enforcing the spirit of knowing who's who in the organization and identifying further improvement opportunities just for the sake of formalizing them officially.

Fruits of Wild Imagination

During our team building sessions, there were several talks which spurred several of my creative moments. From a single sheet of blank paper with leaves, I managed to create several art pieces. These included:

The Almond Tree

Sick Plants

Yin & Yang Plants

Philosophical Art

Fruity Jungle

Spring-time!

Named Little Winged Baby Pencil Insects

A Clean Getaway

Living in the city is hectic, even more so if we work for a multinational company, like me. Whatwith deadlines to meet, presentation slides to prepare and meetings to attend, sometimes you think that that is all to life. Then, come one day, you just want to get away from it all. The mundane, routine-ness of the daily events. Opening our eyes, awaking our senses to the sound of mechanical rigid ticking alarm clocks, freshening ourselves up with buckets of cold water, rituals of putting on makeup and spraying of perfumes. Selecting skirts for every matching occassion. Deciding our mindset for the day. Brainwashing ourselves that we love what we do. We reach our little cubicles where we spend more than 10 hours per day, typing, thinking, talking and twitching. Yes. Twitching when things are just less than perfect than we had hoped for it to be.

Working in the workstation daily ... makes me feel trapped

So, when I had just finished churning out numbers for the annual production forecast cycle, I decided to take a short break. I just wanted to isolate myself on a secluded island, be out of touch with everyone from the company, the source of constant worries and troubles. A short, clean break. So, I promptly booked a flight to Langkawi Island on the 7th of July, 2009 with 2 friends of mine.

Working 24 hrs, without taking any rest, is like a bird in a big cell, looking through the window, waiting to be free

On the day of travel, I abandoned all forms of electronic communication tools. I left my trusty laptop on top of my desk; my hard disk-hidden in one of the drawers; the technical books strewn aside; and my cell phone? I just kept it on silent mode at all times. Not wanting to be absolutely indisposable, indispensable and irresponsible, just in case.

On the first day of my trip in Langkawi, it was hard to let the phone go. I constantly looked at the screen to see if there were incoming calls, texts and emails. I had informed everybody in the office that I'd be on holiday, so little calls were expected. On the second day, there were totally no calls from my colleagues at all! It was such a relief. By the third day, I abandoned the phone in the car totally and concentrated on enjoying all Langkawi had to offer! My! Healing from 'you have mail' addiction is certainly a tough challenge!

Communicating Cats... Trapped in a cage

Of all places, why Langkawi? You might be wondering. Well, before I made my choice, I weighed all my available options. I had been to Pulau Perhentian and Pulau Redang. Sipadan Island was too expensive. Pulau Pangkor is right next to my grandfather's village. Manado Island, I had just visited it last year. Phuket Island - I had been there thrice. Bali - twice. So, naturally, the next choice would be Langkawi. It was close to home and affordable. It reduced the risk of contracting H1N1 virus from a foreign country, and would save lots of travelling time too!

A Holiday on an Island... is as refreshing as a cup of Ginger-Lemon Drink

When I asked for some of my friends' opinions, Roshi, my pretty, blue-eyed with ravishing eyebrows expressed, "Jean!!! It's such a beautiful place! I just fell in love with the island the moment I set my eyes upon it!"

"Oh! Jean! It was my first honeymoon destination!" Sharina, one of my best friends since I began working gleefully revealed.

With such A-rated comments, how could I not go ahead and book the tickets immediately? So, I promptly found a few like-minded friends and booked tickets for the 3 of us to fly away to this exotic location.

Origin and Legends of Langkawi

Langkawi. To me, it is one of the most beautiful islands on earth. Consisting of 104 archipelagos, it is tranquil and calm.

Picture of Tranquility

It looks almost untouched by human activities and their forms of water sports as entertainment. Despite jet skis skidding on the surface of the ocean, or divers invading the homes of underwater life, the seas remain light blue, just the colour that it's supposed to be. There are no brown oil stains, or foamy seawater bubbles floating around. Just the clear, blue water, ocassional white waves and its light, gentle sands for comfort.

According to ancient legend, the eagle (Lang) is the guardian for the people in this isle. Proudly perched on the piece of brown (kawi) rock, the eagle is ever ready to soar high up into the skies, spreading its wings, ready to fight and defend, protecting the inhabitants of this island.

*Note: The italicized words are in Sanskrit language.

The Protector-The Eagle

Several historical events are associated with the island of Langkawi. One of them tells of a young woman, by the name of Mahsuri bte Pandak Mayah who lived in the 19th Century. She was the most beautiful woman on the island at that time. She was the object of envy of all the young men and women. Married to a warrior, her husband, Wan Darus, was required to venture out of the island for several months at a time. Perhaps, being lonely, she befriended and became close to a young man named Deraman. Naturally, rumours were perpetrated and soon, everyone accused her of committing adultery. Mahsuri was framed. Somebody had intended harm to come upon her. She vehemently denied and insisted upon her innocence. Nevertheless, none of her close ones stood up to defend her. She was promptly tied to a tree and stabbed to death.

Mahsuri's Home

Before she heaved her last breath, Mahsuri told her 'punishers', "If I am innocent, it will be white. If I am in the wrong, the blood flowing out from my body will be red. All of you, think carefully before you stab me. I will curse seven generations of yours to have continuous bad luck I am wrongly prosecuted."

Of course, none of the people believed that the blood flowing from her veins would be white when stabbed. So, they gathered together and came to a consensus. "Mahsuri, " The judge announced, "We hereby believe that you are guilty of committing adultery. You have wronged your husband , betrayed his trust and set a bad example to our young children. Hence, you will be sentenced to death!"

Mahsuri shook her head, bowed down in sadness and defeat. The prosecutor took a knife, and stabbed Mahsuri right in the middle of the heart. The moment the tip of the sword poked through her delicate skin, white fluid poured out continuously, as if every inch of Mahsuri's soul were insisting, "I'm innocent! I'm innocent!"

The guard withdrew his sword instantly. Yet, it was too late. Mahsuri's soul had already left its body, leaving the curse to take effect and curse its inhabitants for seven generations. Siamese invaded Langkawi not long after that, taking control of the whole island. Farmers tried to plant crops on their land but none of them survived, no matter how hard they tried.

Whether it is just a true legend, or an old wives tale, there is much room for speculation. Nevertheless, seven generations after the death of Mahsuri, Langkawi island has once again begun to thrive, both through tourism, and its agricultural industry. Indeed, it has so much to offer that one just has to look deep into the hearts of its oceans and jungles, and it will leave one yearning for more.

One of the 104 Archipelagos in Langkawi

Breathtaking Activities

For me, the best way to forget all about my existing worries is to do something which is more straineous and requires my full, absolute focus and concentration. On the first day, that activity was taking a ride in the cable car.


"What's so challenging about taking a cable car? It's not scary! It's just like taking a cable car up to Genting Highlands. Short trip. No fear!" I thought initially. After all, I do it all the time. I took the cable car up to Penang 's 'Bukit Bendera' once. I took another one up to Genting Highlands as well. I didn't know I was such a big boaster until I took the cable car.

Steep Cable Car

As the cable car inched upwards, I took in the view of the limestone mountains and the Andaman seas. From the Oriental Village, we rode in the 'gondola' for a distance of good, long 2.2 kilometres for what seemed like eternity.

The Oriental Village

Air Terjun Telaga Tujuh

Along the way, the Telaga Tujuh (Seven Wells) Waterfall was in full view for all to see. As soon as we approached the first stop at 652.5 m above mean sea level, we hopped out of the moving cable car and snapped pictures to our hearts' content. As soon as we were satisfied, we hopped in again and ventured higher up to guess the location of Thailand from the peak of the mountain.

The World's Longest Suspended Bridge - in Langkawi

Then, by chance, we noticed the world's longest suspended bridge on our right! Sara and Aisyah, lovers of Bollywood movies, eagerly narrated how Shah Rukh Khan, shot fighting scenes on this very bridge. "Jean! We must visit this bridge, ok? Just imagine! Shah Rukh Khan fought on this bridge! He even hung himself in mid air in one of the scenes!" Aisyah expressed.

"Wokeh!" I happily agreed. As soon as the cable car approached the last station, it made an eery, almost mechanical, crashing like sound, that everybody in the cable car shouted. Their screams piercing in the thin, cool mountain air. I thought my ear drums were going to burst. My heart almost stopped beating, thinking that it would drop at the speed of gravity acceleration any minute now. Thank God we arrived at the station, safe and sound.

The view from the bridge was enchanting. It is surrounded by mist, clouds, dark green trees and huge, black rocks. It seems as if there is sort of a magical atmosphere surrounding us. A mistical force if only one would calm the nerves, breathe in deeply, blocked out the sights, the sounds and take in only the cold, tranquil atmosphere, reflecting deeply into our very own soul. The very act of walking towards the end of the bridge was like walking to the land of Never, Never Land. Never to come back again. Lost , 'til the end of times.

As we emerge from the clouds, I am speechless. I never imagined that such a place existed in our very own country. For once, I am proud that I can finally see the beauty of my own country.

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Parasailing was also one of the activities that I took as one of my stress relievers. I figured that suspending myself on a bunch of 0.5" thick nylon strings , thousands of metres above the ground would pretty wring myself out of my nerves.

With Aisyah urging me on, I finally got the courage to put on the harness, and get myself hooked onto the parasails. Before I started, the parasail operator said, "Ok. I'm going to give you a little safety training here. When the boat starts pulling, you start running for your life. Hang onto the sides of the harness. Once you're up, you may release your hands. The boat will take you round the island for about 5 minutes. Then I want you to look down at the beach. Once I wave the red flag, you just grab this orange little flap here, and push the strings down. Push with all your might, as hard as you can. When I say release, you let go of the strings and flap your arms like a wild bird. Got it?"

A hah.. seems simple enough. I nodded my head.

"Oh! One more thing." the instructor adds. "There are many parasailing operators here. All of them will be waving the same red flag. Ours is the one at this brown tower, the last one on this stretch of the beach."

My!OH my! I thought. I had taken off my glasses. How am I going to spot a red flag, 2km above the ground? I can't even read words that are 300 m away from me, for God's sake. But hey, I guess colours are easier to distinguish compared to words. So, with that, the jet ski drives off so fast that I had not even had a chance to run 2 steps on the ground before I was lifted up into the sky.

I think it was fast. By the 30th second, I was at the peak height. I looked around me and saw little villages with pink roofs surrounded by dark, green green trees. My feet were dangling , bare footed, 2km above the vast blue ocean. Suspending myself on a bunch of threads and a plastic parasail. What was I thinking? My sheer, minute life depending on the reliability and safety of these strings and the maneuvering skills of the captain of the boat. What if the hook broke? What if the strings broke? What if the parasails failed? All these thoughts swirled through my mind as I swayed up there, in the sky.

It was then that I realized that we have to have faith in people. Trust in the operators, faith in God. Coherent understanding of the mechanisms and the theory of bouyancy elevates the trust and removes the fear.

As I sink deeper and deeper into my thoughts, I realize that we are nearing the beach. I look out for the red flag. First glance, it's still on the ground. So I stare straight ahead. When I look down again, the flag is up. I feel for the orange strings and push with all my might. However, me, being me, with no workout regimes, and much less muscles, pushed like a baby would. People on the ground thought I hadn't heard the instructions and shouted for me to drag the strings down. Little did they know that I had been exhausing all ways and methods of pushing the strings, from the front, back, left and right, and it didn't seem to work!

Finally, the guy on the ground yelled, "Lepas Lepas! (Release ! Release)" and I happily freed my hands from the strings! Relieve flooded every inch of my soul. My arms fell limped against both sides of my shoulders. Tired from all that energy consuming activity, I forgot to flap my arms like a wild, free bird.

Without realizing it, I soon landed on solid ground. Two guys were there to catch me and unhook me from the parasail and hook on the next 'victim'. Boy. was I glad to be standing on solid ground!

I thought I wouldn't be nervous. Yet, after the landing, my fingers were not shivering, but my heart was beating so fast that I thought it would pop out any moment. I don't think describing the feeling as 'scared' or 'excited' would be apt. Perhaps, the rush of adrenaline from the pumping veins all at once would be a more appropriate description. A sense of doing something that I love fuels me with exhilaration, from top to toe. My head was spinning, my voice quiverred. I am glad I did it at the age of 26 for the second time in my life.

Island Hopping

Visiting Langkawi Island without hopping around an of the islands would be such a waste. After all, that is what holidays by the beach are all about. You jump into the water, get yourself all wet, and let the sun and the winds dry your dripping hair up.

So, my friends, and I, we surveyed at the beckoning counters upon arrival at the airport. There were various packages which offered a combination of all activities from walking around islands to diving. After a much heated debate and contemplation, we finally decided on the 3-in-1 package which included a dip in the Pregnant Maiden Lake, visit to the Eagle's sanctuary and the Beras Basah Island. Honestly, I got confused with the Beras Terbakar spot. I thought that Beras Basah was equivalent to Beras Terbakar. Apparently, I was mistaken. The two, couldn't have been more different. Former being Wet rice, was an island by itself, whereas the latter was a spot on the Langkawi island where the Siamese burnt the rice and it didn't turn into ashes. Another one of the Langkawi's magical stories that captivated visitors from all over the world.

Can you make out the shape of Dayang Bunting? the Pregnant Maiden?

The moment I stepped into the boat, I knew it would be a totally different experience. First, the boat navigator drove us to Tasik Dayang Bunting (Pregnant Maiden Lake).

The Boat Driver, perched high up on his seat

As soon as we approached the island, he said, "Ok. This is Tasik Dayang Bunting. Everybody, you have 1 hour here. "

Like excited little kids, all of us hopped out of the boat one after another. Upon encountering monkeys, we 'ooh-ed' and 'aah-ed' in amazement, just like city folks, as if we had never seen a monkey before. We saw monkeys grabbing stuff from tourists bags, picking out lice from each other's furs, banging onto the zinc roofs, swinging from tree to tree, and sun-bathing on the wooden bridges. There were monkeys everywhere and we stopped to see every one of them. I noticed that when monkeys yawned, they opened their mouths so wide, and their lips had to be wide open too, flashing their sharp 'fangs' that nobody would ever think of teasing these unpredictable, wild creatures.

As soon as we arrived at the lake, we eagerly dived into the cool, fresh water. My! The lake was deep. I never expected it to be so deep. The information board stated that its depth ranged from 30m - 60m. Before we swam, our boat driver warned, "Ok! For those of you who want a child, do take a few sips of magical water from this lake. Once you drink it, you will have a child by next year. If you're not, then be warned! Do not drink any of this water when you're in it!"

As I swam in the deep blue lake, I was careful not to gulp in any of the water. Yet, I kept wondering to feel the taste of freshwater in my mouth. After all, I had always swam and gulped down lots of salty seawater. This was my first time in a freshwater pool. So, I scopped up some of the water and tasted it with the tip of my tongue. Oddly, it wasn't totally void of salt content. There was a slight salty taste to it, which I could attribute to the fact that it was partially connected to the sea.

Then, we visited Eagle Sanctuary, where some of the boatmen threw fishes into the sea to attract the eagles. The whole area was just flooded with so many eagles flying above our heads! As we looked and stared straight up into the sky, I was impressed not only by their sheer number, but also by the way these proud and vicious animals, proudly spreading their wings and soaring high above the skies, and diving down at probably 0.5m/s , dipping its beak at the surface of the water, before the fishes have sufficient time to sink at the bottom of the water.

Sara, on the other hand was not too happy by this sight. "It will only encourage them to be dependent on humans for food. These animals ought to be fending for themselves. Sooner or later, they are going to lose their natural instinct to hunt and feed their young."

As much as I agree with her, I understood that we could not do much. After all, we were neither naturalists nor conservationalist or environmentalists. As far as I could see, our boat driver was not feeding throwing fish into the sea. I was pacified by the fact that we had not chosen a tour operator who participated in the taming of these wild, protected eagles.

Next, on our itenary was the visit to Beras Basah Island. Until now, I have no idea why it's named as Beras Basah (Wet Rice Grains). I guess it has something to do with the shape of it. The moment we arrived at the steps of Beras Basah Island, bright, shining colourful fishes with strips of blue and yellow greeted us, happily swimming around our boat. When we fed them with our loaf of Sunshine bread, they attacked it in a matter of few seconds. I guess the bread crumbs did not even get a chance to sink to the bottom. The fishes looked so greedy and hungry, as if they had not been fed for 1 whole week.

The island, by itself, was pretty fascinating. Surrounded by white sandy beaches, with part of the seas dark, and some clear waters, schools of fish swam past me as I soaked in its calm waters. I just couldn't believe my luck. I was here and all I could do was being mesmerized by the heavenly view . Mother Nature had truly blended it all in.

As we walked on the jetty, one of the naughty monkeys grabbed the bag of one of our fellow passengers, took out its contents and poured it all over the beach. Our helpless young guy could only venture a weak smile as he thought of the mess that he had to go through at the police station, reporting loss and theft of stolen credit cards, by a certain monkey at Beras Basah Island. The police, by this time, had probably obtained reports of such cases and would not even bat an eyelid when he lodges this report.

Paddy and Tranquility

As a Malaysian, I love all sorts of rice based products, especially Pulut (glutinous rice). If I had the freedom of choice, and suffered no restrictions on my diet plan, I could have rice dumplings for breakfast, Japanese rice crackers for coffee, steamed rice pancakes for lunch, rice cakes for tea and rice balls for dinner. For supper, I can have different varieties of sushi, and kuih, such as angku and layered kuih.

Yet, as much as I love glutinous rice, I was told by my one of my colleagues that eating too much glutinous rice makes one very forgetful. Although I have no inkling whatsover how having excessive glutinous rice erases one's memory, I think there's some truth in it. Anybody who hangs out frequently with me will testify that I have a porous memory, 'non-absorbent' as my cousin would bluntly put it. I have a 3-second memory, just like Dory the Fish in Disney's Finding Nemo. Everybody can tell me anything, but I will forget them 2 seconds later. If it stays more than 3 seconds in my memory cells, then you bet that information must be pretty captivating, and it'll be there for many years to come.

Hence, when I noticed The Rice Museum (Laman Padi) right at the junction before turning into Langkapuri Resort, I was so excited that I asked Aisyah to stop the car and turn around immediately. Aisyah did stop, all of a sudden, in the middle of the road and turned the car 180 degrees. Fortunately, we are on a very secluded island. There'll be cars passing by every 5 or 10 minutes, unlike KL where cars just wheeze past you every second, without giving you a chance to cross the roads.

As soon as we came to a standstill, we hopped out of the car and onto the bridge towards the Rice museum.

On our right, we saw scarecrows and muddy paddy fields.

On our left, we saw healthy living paddy plants.

Up-Close, we saw rice-grains still attached to its stalk!

My greatest pleasure in visiting the Rice Museum was that I got to see my favourite food growing on a plant. So, I happily snapped a picture of it. I was too engrossed in taking its picture that I forgot to pluck of one of the grains and see how it tasted and feel like.

When I returned to the big, bad city, as I was eating a big plate of rice, I began to wonder: 'Cooked rice is wet, sticky and moist; Rice grains that we get from the stores are totally dried, no humidity left in them; How'bout the rice grains growing on the plant? Is it wet? or half dry, or totally dry? How can it be totally dry when it's growing on a living plant?'

I regret that I only thought of this statement as I began to walk out from the twin towers medical centre. I should have touched the little grains of rice growing on the paddy plant as I knelt onto the ground near them. My level of curiousity was just not strong enough, I guess.

A pretty Middle-East lady trying her hands at separating the rice husks from its grains

Making my favourite kuih from scratch : 1st step - Pounding rice grains to make rice flour

Planting paddy is not an easy job. First, buffaloes are employed to plough the field for soil cultivation. Then, the farmers will throw all the seeds onto the ground, water the earth and fresh green plants will sprout from the land. Once the height of the plants are about half an inch, the farmers will bend their backs under the hot sun and rearrange the plants in neat little rows and columns. From far, it looks so symetrical that it'll impress any origami artist, mathematician and neat freak.

Paddy Plants - all arranged in neat rows and columns

When the paddy plants have grown to their maximum height, and starts flowering, the farmers wives will setup a delicate network of string webs to a series of traditional banging tool to chase away d birds. The banging tool consists of a metal bucket and a rectangular piece of zinc roof. As soon as bugs, locusts and swallows come swooping down onto the paddy plants, the farmers' wives will be busy maneuvering the intricate web tactfully from all angles, frightening away the buzzing insects and chirping birds.

The carefully woven web of intricate designs

See! They even have to set up straw hats, 'straw-people' to chase away the crows.

Yes. Indeed, it is never easy to grow rice, no matter where it comes from. From now on, I will not waste another grain of rice on my plate, lotus and banana leaves.

A Vast, Green Paddy Field , right behind Mahsuri's Tomb

Other Captivating Scenes

Picturesque Lovers' Bridge

Reminds me of the Chinese folklore where a pair of lovers who get to meet only on the 7th day of the 7th month, every year, just because they disobeyed the king's wishes.

Algae in the Hot Spring Pond

This scene reminds me of the dwellings of Ursula, the evil witch in Disney's 'The Little Mermaid.'

Hot Spring... No Steam...


2 Aunties searching for 'lala' under the hot sun at Pebble Beach



Reflections on Wet, Compact Sandy Beach




Proverbs at Langkapuri Beach Resort, which can never be found anywhere else, I believe (Click on Picture to Magnify)


Multipurpose uses of Seacucumber (can be made into soap and medicated oil)

I juz luv this simple decoration of the exterior of this shop

Love the idea of house on stilts, on the hills, by the sea

Seeing little pine trees growing from its roots

Looking at the big, bad, sly looking cat

Cows Along the Road

Teritip-s

Keropok Lekor in the Pasar Jumaat

Cherry on the Ground

Nice Indian Restaurant - Papadum Ria

(It has this really authentic, Indian feel)