The Long And Winding Road

Between destinations, to and fro, I traversed a continuous road, without turning right or left, but kept on following the curves, bends and the straights.

First, there were passing showers. The drops came down, spot on the windscreen and the applied Rain-X did its work immediately. Upon impact, each sky drop broke into tiny bubbles that then religiously climbed up the glass surface in various splintered directions. The effect on me as the driver and on my passengers was both calming and inspiring. Molecules, components and atoms - these all came collectively to our conscious minds, while our eyes were transfixed on the natural, spontaneous display. We could not really hear the sound of the rain, for the car stereo was on, and the experience was like watching a silent movie in apparent slow motion.

Second, there was this restaurant that we passed by and had a crowd waiting patiently to be seated and served a meal. Maybe it was opening night. Seafood was involved, and it was just after Easter. There was a real sense of buzz and eagerness, even apparent to me just watching while waiting for the set of lights. The food served must be really good, or were the potential customers just acting on word-of-mouth perceptions or hearsay expectations?

Third, there was this route between forests. I did wonder if there were animals, big or small, just waiting to cross the highway or merely eyeing the vehicular traffic from a safe distance. The night sky seemed clearest here, away from the artificial lights made by human beings - and the resulting realization that we were just like ants on a revolving ball hurling through infinite space, like across a field. Everything began to be all relative, just like the relationship in physics between time and distance. Does it matter what each of us does? The cumulative effects appear to be overwhelming, but can dissipate into nothingness as they may cross each other out - good versus bad, small versus big - in the final summation of the ultimate dimension. Stars formed a pattern and the full moon was partly covered by clouds, but it was all a matter of where we were and how fast or slow we were travelling relative to the spin of the planet.

On certain parts of the road, I could see a trail of vehicular tail lights. Like the stars strewn across out corner of the galaxy. Or more so like the seemingly random spread of the water drops on the windscreen as the car climbed up mountain slopes.Or the line of customers waiting eagerly to be fed. Is life structured like the road I was travelling with my fellow companions, or also spontaneous like the sudden down pour from the heavens? Who knows, I just follow my long and winding road, or so it seems.

Penang Island circa 2008

Perth-originated coffee chain DOME operates an outlet in the shipliner shaped Queensbay Mall.


Diverse fresh and dried herbs on sale in an open air Sunday market.





































Handsomely restored front of Pernanakan terrace from the early 20th century.


Romantic getaway in bungalow perched over the seaside near Mouse Isle.


Biscuit varieties on display in traditional storage jars at Belissa Row grocer.

The Equinox

Equal daylight, equal night hours. Whether you are in the north or south, there is a feeling of environmental equity. In Wollongong, the rather warm weather persists, with summer-like harshness of sunlight at noon and at daybreak. The full moon on an equinox evening adds to the alignment of the heavens, earth and the calendar. Catholic and Protestant Easter falling on March 21st this year meant the start of the long weekend in Western countries. I subconsciously await for signs of fall, but only see, with delight, mandarins and Tahitian limes sprouting fruit in my garden.

Autumn normally flags a cooler time, perhaps suited doing the inevitable chore of clothes ironing, but not so far. People do send their laundry to be crisply ironed for a fee, but I secretly enjoy the motion and mindlessness of such a house task. I sip in the rather calming effect of unique tea blends called Morning Flower and Stockholm ( do they grow tea in Sweden?). With more discretionary time, I dabble in a frenzy of cooking, ranging from stir-fried hokkien noodles accompanied by oyster chicken bites to trying new marinade mixtures on meat roasts. I can assume another existence in another world, away from the regime of paid employment and feel like the flora still boisterously growing in my yard.

It may be the supposed season of reconciliation, but I am reminded of the opposite.
A paid subscription to the Sydney Morning Herald sees its delivery cancelled by Fairfax for unbeknown reasons. A sales woman in an aquarium shop in the battler suburb of Warrawong treats me as if I do not exist, even as I was intently looking at some beautiful fishes. However, I view these as minor transgressions, for the overworked check out lady at Woolworths Shellharbour can still manage a smile, a stranger in the queue can chat easily with me ( and I love his Italian accent) and the sales guys at my local Supa Cheap Auto take initiative to ask what I am looking for.

As time whittles away the earlier prospect of five nights and four days on a long weekend, I bury myself with the detail of cleaning the wheel chrome of my car, a current obsession of mine after an advice from a good mate - "never let the dirt grow and nip it in the bud". There is time to catch up on sleep debt and sink into magazines waiting for my attention in the lounge. To underline the significance of cyberspace and computers, I fretted for days on end when my home desktop refused to fire up, but on one miraculous night, the monitor and the cpu decided to come back from holiday.

The evening before the equinox, I had driven to Burwood in Sydney's inner west to attend a birthday party. It was good to start the holidays with friends, and two of them announced an engagement. The Sydney traffic on holiday eve was horrendous to go through, especially with this Australian habit of imposing double demerit points to deduct from your driving license on top of the monetary fines for road offences. However, there was no breath analyser test along Tom Ugly's Bridge on the way back to Wollongong, despite a strong police presence only a week ago. On the night of the equinox, a home cooked dinner spread awaited the fortunate few invited to my Carlingford cousin's home - food galore with lively chats and reunited friends. Like a pause in otherwise ordinary routine, we enjoyed this moment, when the Earth itself as a planet was not tilting as it otherwise does.

Burglars

Without a prompt, I reflected that several years ago today, a group of burglars broke into my residence in a Sydney suburb. I was having a whale of a time enjoying the Royal Easter Show with an aunt and cousin. When I came back at midnight, flushed with the delights of the day and company, I found the glass sliding doors of a back room facing the back courtyard had been aggressively smashed. There was the expected mayhem of scattered things and being trespassed. It was my only time of experiencing such a burglary. For months, they put the fear in my inner soul about the uncertainty of things, despite all our precautions, preparations and planning.

Maybe the thieves needed all that stuff of mine more than me. I wonder where they are now, and whether they do recall the owners of houses they have broken into. Thankfully, I was not inside the house when they assertively carried out their burglary. What they stole as physical things, another dear aunt in Penang assured me, can always be repurchased in a better model and fashion.

This morning, many years later, I realized that these burglars have inevitably enriched me in matters that count, rather than steal mere physical things. That incident has made me realize, with greater intensity, the temporary nature of things in general and negative feelings in particular. It has reminded me to exercise better the art of detachment, rather than cling to the traps of attachment. The burglars had imposed their will upon me, without a care or concern for how I would react. I now know better on how to draw a line between their imposition and my response. I am more conscious of meeting my own expectations rather than those of the burglars - and also not to let them intrude into my heart, for they have only intruded into my space.

In contrast, the stolen items were never recovered, the attending police having only superficially examined the scene of the crime 48 hours later despite immediate reporting by me and quickly concluding that the remaining fingerprints left behind were too vague. The police investigation led to nowhere.

I also ponder, when some people whom I occasionally meet carry on with their airs, promise things to me that they never intend to fulfil and ignore me the instant they feel they do not require my cooperation or interaction anymore. Like the burglars, they only think of themselves and their narrow agendas. I wonder if they are conscious of the negative manner in which they carry themselves and say things to my face. I try to understand if the verbal promises they make are only a bit of hot air or mere social talk. I am amused that they have chosen that path - and how blatant they can be in continuing to milk me dry instead of mutually nourishing each other.

I draw the line. I smile and minimize my dealings with such individuals. I then let go of my previous expectations and review my apparent attachment to them. I allow them the liberty to act as they wish and smile again when they get no answers in my reaction. I relish the thought that they cannot take from me anymore, but that instead they have unintentionally taught me to move on – away from them and their antics.

Things happen for a reason, I recall this advice – and how delightful an experience!

Customer Service Encounters

I bought a train ticket in Sydney’s Central Station and got turned down by the sales person when I requested for a receipt for claims reimbursement purposes. I had tried to avoid asking for a receipt by offering to pay by credit card, but this was already turned down. It was simpler getting that receipt another day at an urban rail station in Thirroul, south of Sydney. The Central Station information counter lady that Wednesday March 5 however was very fair, suggesting that I could perhaps get a receipt if I asked the station manager. The manager flatly squashed the idea, asking me to go through the exit side gate at my destination station, to maintain my travel ticket to serve as a receipt (instead of getting it swallowed by the toll gate). I asked, what if the side gate was locked and it was unmanned, as it tends to be at smaller rail stations in the Sydney area? I was carrying two pieces of luggage, one rather heavy and even without them, I do not want to jump any gate at any public commuter facility. I received no satisfactory reply.

Checking into a serviced apartment near Sydney’s Darling Harbour, I asked for a late check out on the morning of my check out. I received no response whatsoever, even if the counter service person was right in front of me. I asked for some milk to be delivered to the apartment, promises were made on the phone but they never came. The check-in person could see me waiting with luggage for around 15 minutes, and yet asked the person who came later than me as to whom to serve first. I had resided before in another serviced apartment of the same brand chain, but this other outlet was totally a disappointment by the standards of the former experience. The carpets and sofa were dirty, there was no LCD or plasma television monitor and the available kitchen utensils were minimal. The apartment was not cleaned one day even with the request card displayed outside the door to tidy up the apartment – it was only done when it was raised by the guest. The cleaning staff rushed to get in the lifts even before guests could get out. Being the face of the facility, at most times they behaved amazingly unfriendly. The gym was locked when it should have been accessible to kosher guests. I was lucky to then meet Matt on duty at the front reception on the last two days of my stay. With a responsive smile and quick manner, Matt actually had things done in an impeccable style, listened intently to feedback and offered relevant explanations.

Chinatown Delights, Sydney

A walking tour of any niche cultural district, in any city around the world, is always worth the effort. Forget about structure; sink into the atmosphere brought from places far away and so different from the mainstream; and get absorbed into a pace removed from our otherwise everyday lives.

So-called Chinatowns outside China offer perspectives that may surprise the eye and delight the heart – and we are not just talking of yum cha. Sydney is no exception, although the conglomeration of Chinatown businesses, malls and streets can blend seamlessly into the other major precincts of the central business district. The term Chinatown can be a misnomer, as it can contain things that are not Chinese in origin, but which are brought by already immigrant Chinese from other countries and cultures. The variety of spicy Thai soups, Vietnamese spring rolls, Indonesian salads and Malaysian curries in Sydney’s Chinatown is a good example. More illustrative is the South Indian murtabak available from a Chinese-owned outlet along Goulburn Street – the dish is a lamb or chicken laden rich pancake, originated by Indian Muslims (Mamak) and widely popular in Malaysia and Singapore.

One expects an Oriental theme in the architecture and signage of retail outlets, and this is amply provided when strolling through the Dixon Street Mall. What caught my eye is the prevalence of al fresco styled dining (or lunching) as if one were in Europe.

Off side, towards Harbour Street, I came across a vista of contrasts, with colonial facades on one side and the inevitable red lanterns on the other. Uighur, Korean and Japanese outlets have sprouted on this side of Chinatown as well. In the adjoining Darling Harbour, the Cantonese Gardens (reputedly the largest outside China itself) have matured and host so-called Western fashioned wedding ceremonies and visitors looking for a place of calm in the city. Paddys Market, operating for four business days a week, has a collection of stalls run by as many ethnic groups as the varied population of Sydney itself. The Capitol Theatre is offering a hit stage show from the UK, Billy Elliot, but finds itself surrounded by Hong Kong styled barbecue meat shops, computer retail stalls and over packed grocery shops.

Backpackers still find value in the relatively low cost of Chinatown meals at food courts. So do students from the University of Technology which has its main campus between Glebe and Chinatown. I was introduced by a good friend to a modest Thai café at the junction of Wentworth and Elizabeth Streets (maybe a stretch to still consider it as part of Chinatown). The food ordering and delivery is quick paced with no fuss, and the dishes served have a kick to the palate of those familiar with South-east Asian food. Meanwhile, the big Hong Kong styled restaurants still offer the more expensive menus at dinnertime. The Reading Cinema at Market City offers Mandarin and Cantonese language movies as if you were residing in Singapore, Shanghai or Macau. Freshly baked buns and drinks mixed with milk and fruits seem to dominate the snacks on offer.

When night falls over the gates of Dixon Street Mall, one may hear the clatter of mahjong tiles on gaming tables, the humdrum of muffled karaoke sounds from indoor and closed rooms and perhaps other multifarious deals beyond our imagination. Are the people lurking around tourists, immigrants, visitors from Sydney outer suburbs or long time residents? Who knows, who cares? I just enjoy feeling the pulse of making a living, making a business and making a life in this corner of Sydney.

The Summer Gone By

As I write, it's two more weeks before the festive season here hits its crescendo, to be followed by endless hours of the annual chilling out sessions on beaches and barbecue pits all over the country. Annual report drafts are being written not only for the business, family and self, but also for profession, region, country and world. We spend so many hours devoting ourselves to business and work goals - have we achieved that? Are there things that are not durable - including relationships, consumables and those with a limited shelf life - that we have not already chucked out? Have we completed the more important items on our wish list? There is also the ritual of ensuring that annual tasks - be they renewals or reviews - have been worked through. As with the approach of major holidays in every country around the globe, the timeliness of services get delayed ("come back after January") or delivery of products not fulfilled. Whatever the hiccups in travel, commercial delivery or kpi attainment, the most satisfying fall-back option is to reflect on how the family has grown, how love has accumulated and how much nearer that we can be to reaching our dreams. And to be surrounded by friends and loved ones.

Sunday 9 December 2007 in Sydney and Wollongong was muggy, hot and overcast. That it was, until mid-afternoon, when the skies played havoc with the residents of the suburbs north-west of the cbd. Hailstones rained down in spectacular fashion across Castlehill, Baulkham Hills, Cherrybrook, Hornsby and Wahroonga, breaking car windscreens and making dents of every kind where they hit. In country NSW, around Lithgow, the New Years Eve fireworks came earlier than thought at Howard & Sons, where a supposedly unmanned set-off of the products destined for around Australia in January had produced a Saturday night show visible from 30km away, and which had the undesired effect of blowing out windows of nearby residential homes. Road rage copied in violent fashion on one of the Sydney main freeways, the M4, with an altercation involving around six men and the accompanying two women - one young man is in serious condition as we write. Unexpected developments came in the collapse of a wooden balcony in inner-city Surry Hills, resulting in five blokes injured, one badly. An Alsatian police dog named Carts was knifed by an 18 year old in an altercation in Corrimal, a suburb north of the Wollongong CBD - he was named after an honoured NSW police officer who was also killed in a crime incident. Finally, if you have some spare change, organisers are asking for AUD 830 for a night on Fort Denison under the stars and fireworks on New Year's Eve in Sydney Harbour - the price includes a four course meal, valet parking, champagne and open air ambiance.