Macau: Beyond the Gambling Den (Part 1)

The most popular way to visit Macau is to take a day trip via Hong Kong, but in my opinion, that may NOT be the wisest option.

Macau, the land that is often mistaken as nothing but a large gambling den has so much more to offer that a mere few hours would not do the place enough justice.

What is so special about Macau, you ask? Hmm ... the hotels, the food, and the scenery (both by day and by night).

Sofitel Macau at Ponte 16

My family and I decided to stay at Sofitel Macau at Ponte 16 throughout our 4D/3N trip to Macau in December 2016. In all my years of travelling, I would say this was the most luxurious hotel I have ever lived in.

For one, it is not on every trip that I get to stay in a hotel that comes equipped with a TV in the toilet!

Sofitel Macau at Ponte 16: See the flatscreen TV above the bath tub?

The beds were extremely comfy and high, and the room we stayed in overlooks the peninsular.

It is also not every day that I get to pamper and immerse myself in branded and expensive toiletries (L'Occitane), all thanks to the hotel.

L'Occitane toiletries courtesy of Sofitel Macau. Ignore the date. I finally took the photo months after the trip.

Guests of Sofitel get to choose between a view of the Macau Peninsular or the river. We chose the former which provided a side profile of the famous facade i.e. the ruins of St. Paul and the Guia Fortress. My uncle, on the other hand, spent his days gazing across the wide river, right from the toilet of his hotel room. =)

A view of Old Macau (as the peninsular is known) from Sofitel

Because it was near Christmas, the hotel was very beautifully decorated. It was too bad that our cameras could not fully capture the winter wonderland ambience of the lobby. These were the best shots I could take.

Sofitel Macau @ Christmas: Who else to oblige me as my favourite models but my parents?

As with many hotels in Macau, this hotel has its in-house casino, too. While I cannot comment on the gambling services, I can confidently say that the money changer provides good rates. Oh, and the casino brews very good chrysanthemum tea. So good, in fact, that we returned to the casino the following night just to drink its leong cha (herbal tea)!

The Nissan Legrand that took us all over Macau

I could go on and on describing the hotel, but Macau is not confined to Sofitel alone, so I will proceed to the next items on my list: PLACES TO VISIT and THINGS TO EAT.

It was the concierge at Sofitel that linked us to Mr. Elmar, a guide and chauffeur from the Philippines who took the 5 of us around in a Nissan Elgrand. We were charged by the hour and were able to plan our own route. In the end, we booked the MPV twice: once to experience Macau during the day, and the other to drink in the beauty of the lights at night. We had absolutely no regrets!

We covered the places mentioned in this particular blog entry within 4 hours. I will most likely post the night attractions in the next entry.

Lord Stow's Bakery in Taipa Village

A trip to Macau is not complete without a taste of its original Portuguese tarts. To be honest, I do not fancy egg tarts in general. And as a child, I despised it. For some strange reason, though, friends and family love buying me egg tarts and I do not have the heart to reject them... or their tarts, for the matter.

Having said all that, the tarts from Lord Stow's Bakery were heavenly. We went there on a random weekday morning, so there was no need to queue. The tarts were very fresh, not too sweet, and absolutely scrumptious! Yes, this is coming from someone who does not like egg tarts.

Epic Portuguese Tarts from Lord Stow's Bakery in Taipa Village

Warning:

Consuming ONE piece is never enough.

TWO is just right.

THREE would be an overdose.

You should taste it while it is still hot and fresh from the oven.

The Taipa Houses-Museum

Taipa Houses-Museum

Our next stop was at the Taipa Houses. One of us requested for a toilet break and the guide took us there. Unfortunately, I was blur enough to assume that it was a pure toilet break and did not even realise that the place was a tourist attraction ... Yes, I can be that clueless at times, especially when I am seated right at the back of the MPV and am oblivious to the conversation taking place in front.

Tai Lei Loi Kei:

A small, unassuming shop with delicious Pork Chop Buns

Tai Lei Loi Kei Pork Chop Bun

When my family invited my uncle to join us on a food trip to Macau, we were not kidding. Not long after we had the infamous Portuguese Tarts, we stopped by the roadside to get another signature delicacy from Taipa village - Tai Lei Loi Kei's Pork Chop Bun. We were still stuffed from the tarts, so we decided to pack some back to the hotel for lunch. It was tasty even though we only managed to consume it several hours later. You should not give this a miss as long as pork is part of your diet.

A-Ma Temple

This is often known as the gateway to Macau. History has it that this temple was built in honour of the goddess of seafarers, also known as A-ma. When the Portuguese first landed in that area, they asked the locals for the name of the place, to which the locals replied, "A-Ma Gao", which is literally translated to the "A-Ma district". The Portuguese then misunderstood and took on the name "ah ... Macao" and used it ever since. How absurd is that? =)

The first Koi Kei Bakery. Our experience was marred by just one particularly rude staff who was jealously guarding the samples and lacked basic manners.

The area surrounding A-Ma Temple

Macau Tower

Macau Tower

The Empire States Building, Eiffel Tower, Taipei 101, Burj Khalifa, and KLCC. Every destination has its iconic tower(s). Macau is not an exception. I was first introduced to Macau Tower when I watched a travel episode hosted by Janet Hsieh. The one thing that stood out then was its bungee jump. Imagine how thrilled I was when I was just in time to witness a live bungee jump right before my eyes!

The World's Highest Bungy at 233 meters

Penha Hill

If you are an avid TVB fan and have been following Ruco Chan's Burning Hands, you will certainly be thrilled to visit this next destination. Too bad we were there before the show was aired, so we had no clue that it was such a popular spot. At the top of the hill is a very photogenic church. And to top it off, we witnessed a couple posing for their wedding shots there.

A view of the garden and a couple taking wedding photos

Chapel of Our Lady of Penha and a view of the city from the top of Penha Hill

Guia Fortress

Guia Lighthouse

The night view of Macau peninsular as seen from the hotel room is surprisingly serene despite the numerous lights along the streets. One particular light in the distance shines the brightest and is active throughout the night, even when the entire city is fast asleep. It took us awhile to realise that the light was actually shining from the Guia Fortress / Lighthouse.

I am surely not the only soul who thinks that there is something unexplainably romantic about lighthouses. While it may seem somewhat redundant during the day, a lighthouse exudes its most spectacular charm against the sunset and the moonlight. I do not know if this lighthouse still offers guidance to travelers by air and by sea but I do know that it is lit up at night, and that the view from the lighthouse during the day is equally spectacular.

The view from Guia Lighthouse

The Ruins of St. Paul

If you missed this spot, you may as well say that you have never been to Macau before! It is indeed the most popular landmark of Macau.

The famous ruins stand majestically on top of the hill. Because of its popularity, you can expect the place to be crowded with tourists at any time of the day (or night). My parents had initially thought that they would have to forego the idea of visiting this great monument after looking at the number of steps but our guide (who was somewhat of a genius) took us on another route and dropped us off at the other side of the façade. In other words, we approached the ruins from the back instead of the front. (You can seriously consider this too if you are travelling with the elderly or friends with less mobility.) Of course it would have been more impressive for the sight of the ruins to greet you as you climb up from Senado Square, but coming from the back provides a rather different and interesting perspective too.

Ruins of St. Paul: Don't worry about photobombing. You won't be able to avoid it.

The structure had two enormous entrances: one for the church, and the other for the college before the building burnt down in 1835. All that is left today is the façade. If you think it looks impressive on TV, you will be in awe as you stand right in front of its gates.

I am both a Christian and a lecturer, so I tried imagining going to church and to work through its large doors. I cannot even begin to describe how it felt. We returned to the ruins one of the nights and even though the lighting almost made it look like the perfect venue for a horror movie, the place still left us in awe. As we sat for a long while right in front of its gates, we felt as if we were transported to a few hundred years back in time. The wind was soothing and we could have sat there the whole night long.

The Ruins of St. Paul at night

Senado Square

After more than 3 hours of travelling in and out of the MPV in the midday sun, we were exhausted but there was one last stop to make before we headed back to the hotel: Senado Square. This is where all the activity is. There were many shops and stalls selling practically everything, from branded apparels, health and beauty products, to all kinds of food. Because it was close to Christmas, the square was fully decorated with Christmas ornaments.

                                   

Dear couple, I am sorry for taking your photo but it was actually the Christmas deco that I was after ...

More photobombing

We returned to the same place later that night just to see how it would look then. The crowd was smaller at night (perhaps because most visitors prefer to go to the casinos at night) and in its own way, it was nicer to walk around. The sun was no longer scorching hot, and the air was cool. There were fewer vehicles around too, which makes the entire place feel more like a friendly, little pasar malam (night market).

St. Dominic's Church - by day and by night

A nativity scene that was put up close to Christmas

Do not underestimate this quiet lane at night. During the day, it is actually crowded with people and filled with the aroma of curry fish balls.

We were relieved to return to the hotel after visiting Senado Square. We did not think that we would have been able to cover that many areas, considering that my parents could neither walk too far nor too long. Travelling in the MPV (and with a guide) was indeed a blessing!

What about the casinos and all the night lights? Oh yes, we managed to cover those too but it'll probably take another few months before I am done with my blogging...

All in all, this was certainly NOT the Macau I had expected. Like most people, I had assumed it was a place only for gamblers. I am just glad that we had a chance to explore this place that is so often misunderstood.

Confessions of a Confuscina

Have you ever pictured Bananas in Pajamas trying to quote Confucius?

When Bananas in Pajamas meet Confucius down the stairs

That must have been the torturous sight my World Literature students had to endure during a session on the famous and influential Chinese scholar, Kong Fuzi a.k.a Confucius ...

Yellow on the outside, and white on the inside

Having zero exposure to Chinese education and clutching desperately onto my 2% command of Mandarin, I trudged through the 200 translated quotes and picked out only the ones that made sense to the banana (the non Chinese-speaking Chinese). Or at least the ones that the pisang (banana) could goreng (literally, fry but in our Malaysian term -- fabricate).

Slanted eyes, flat nose, and yellow skin - I seem to have the entire package that makes me a Chinese. But the moment I open my mouth and start stuttering in Mandarin, or even Cantonese, you will just attribute my jaundiced skin to the banana family.

Language is a struggle, but more so is the culture and the mindset.

I have received ang pows and played with fireworks without knowing its significance. While I am able to name the varieties of mooncake flavours available in the market, I do not know the actual story behind the celebration. In the same manner, I enjoy eating a good dumpling (any time of the year, actually) without figuring out its origins. In my opinion, the taste takes precedence over its history.

Ah, I have to confess: I am already drooling.

My obsession for food clearly proves that despite the disclaimers above, I am still a Chinese. =)

It was a pity that my Chinese obsession with food and TVB series/Cantopop could not prepare me for a complete 3 hour lecture on Confucius. The task became doubly daunting when I realized that most students in class had probably spent more time and were much more acquainted to that confused, old uncle (i.e. Confucius) than I ever was. Those who had attended Chinese schools would have been immersed in his ideologies.

But what do lecturers do best? They ACT. They act like they know it. And sometimes, when they act well enough, they begin to convince others that they know their stuff. Yup, even when they ACTually don't. And when they can't convince the students, they start to CONFUSE them. As students, you must have experienced one or more of these confusing episodes. Perhaps even in every class that you have attended. As lecturers, you must have been guilty of executing this at least once, if not all the time.

As I was struggling to prepare for class, I came across one of the most meaningful quotes from Uncle Confucius himself:

"There are, are there not, young plants that fail to produce blossoms, and blossoms that fail to produce fruit?"

"How very true!" I thought.

Assuming that the picture below depicts the natural lifecycle of a plant, the seed first grows into a young plant, which then blossoms, and finally bears fruits.

There is, however, one problem with this cycle and one does not have to be a farmer to recognize it. While this is the norm, or how you think it should be, there is a possibility that it MAY NOT be.

One thing may NOT necessarily lead to another.

Just because the seed grows into a seedling, it does not mean that it will definitely continue growing into a young tree. And when the tree starts to blossom, it is natural for the farmer to get excited. But then again, there are trees that have blossoms and yet not bear a single fruit. Not even after you have waited much longer than you should.

Nothing in life is guaranteed. Nothing is considered a natural progression.

I find this Confucius quote extremely relevant as we celebrate Chinese New Year. This is supposed to be the season that brings friends and relatives together. Very often, though, in an attempt to either initiate a polite conversation or to genuinely catch up with one another, we frequently rush in and ask the wrong questions:

"Didi/Meimei, you are about the same height as you were last year. Aren't you supposed to grow taller this year?"

"What did you get for UPSR last year? Why didn't you score straight As? You did very well for your trial exam, didn't you?"

"What do you plan to do after SPM? Your sister/brother is studying medicine. And both your parents are doctors. Why didn't you enroll in a medical course, too?"

"People usually take three years to complete their degree. Why are you taking much longer than that?"

"You have been working so hard. And your company is doing very well. What do you mean you do not have bonus this year?"

"You have been working there for years. Why are you not promoted? Why is your salary lower than XXX's son/daughter who has just started working?"

"You are a good boy/girl. Why do you still not have a girlfriend or a boyfriend? What's wrong with you?"

"You have been going out with this guy/girl for years. What are you waiting for? Why are you not married yet?"

"You have been married for sometime. Why still no kids, ah? Got see doctor or not?"

"Your eldest child is already X years old, when is the next one coming?"

And the list goes on and on ... (just like Celine Dion's heart in the soundtrack of Titanic).

Well, let this Confucius-wanna-be tell you this:

Just because a kid does well for trial exam, it does not mean that same kid will perform very well for the actual exam. Just because someone comes from a family of doctors/lawyers/engineers/comedians, it does not mean that he/she should follow the same course. Even if the company does very well, who are we as workers to dictate anything regarding bonus? Likewise, which workers get to reward themselves for their hardwork?

Just because a person has good attributes, it does not mean he/she will be rewarded with the sweetest, drop-dead gorgeous girlfriend/boyfriend. If a couple decides not to get married after dating for donkey years, who are we to butt in? And if they do not have any children yet, it could be their choice or they may be quietly struggling and trying for one, all without our knowledge. Unless we intend to donate our sperm or ovum, I suggest that we do not pry too much into other people's affairs.

So as we sit at the table for yet another round of reunion dinner/lunch this year, let us take a good look at the people around us. See them for whom they really are, and not for what they have achieved thus far.

Just because something may have seemed like a natural progression for them last year, circumstances may have stopped them from actually getting there. It is not right to impose any pressure on them. Instead, sit back and appreciate everyone who is there with us, for we may not know which of these faces may no longer be around next year: some may be joining the reunion dinner at their in-law's place, some may be at work, some may be abroad, and then there are some whom we may just never get to see anymore.

Because nothing is a natural progression, we should not take what we now have for granted.

Happy Chinese New Year and best wishes from the Confuscina a.k.a. the female Confucius or just the very Confused Cina (Chinese).

Be Still and Know ...

If you have read my other blog entries, you will realise that none of them focuses on religion. Not specifically, that is.

No, I am neither unreligious, nor am I one of those individuals who professes to be secular and is therefore constantly on the lookout to be overly politically correct in everything he/she says.

To me, religion is a special and sacred relationship shared between an individual and God/a higher being/a belief, and no one, and I mean really NO ONE deserves to come in between; neither family, friends, loved ones, enemies, religious leaders, governments, authorities, or most of all religious police should have a say in how this relationship develops or if it even develops at all.

For this reason, it is never acceptable to impose one's beliefs on others. Nonetheless, it is also not wrong when one decides to share his/her faith in the open.

If you are still reading this paragraph, then you are perhaps the 20 percent minority who has yet to be offended and is still keen to know what I am about to say...

I am a Christian. And yes, this post is somewhat about Christmas.


Despite the increasing focus on Santa Claus and his pack of deer or even his sexy Santarina(s), most of us do know that Christmas has something to do with the Christians. After all, both words begin with the word CHRIST for a valid reason. In case you do not know, though, let me enlighten you:

Christians all over the world celebrate Christmas to remember the birth of Christ into this world, which brings along the best gift i.e. the gift of salvation.

I have no intention of giving a sermon but what I am about to share may probably be a bit more relevant for those of us who are Christians. And specifically, Christians who celebrate Christmas. To be even more precise, Christians who find ourselves too caught up with preparations for Christmas.

This is, no doubt, the busiest time of the year for most, if not all churches: musicals, caroling, gift-exchanging, evangelizing, camps, etc. It is the same for myself, too. Although I am not actively involved in the Christmas programs in my church, I am usually guilty of being busy in other ways.

Despite coming from a Chinese family, it is surprisingly Christmas and not Chinese New Year that has always been the utmost celebration at home. We usually do our spring-cleaning, bake cookies, put up the Christmas tree, and have friends and family over for Christmas day itself. For this reason, it is not surprising to find myself skipping Christmas programs at church and ending up on my all fours, scrubbing the floors and staying up the whole night long to decorate the Christmas tree while waiting for the early birds to arrive.

This year, though, thanks to massive upgrading of sewage system around our neighbourhood (which resulted in roads being closed and diverted here and there), we have decided not to hold our annual Christmas open house. Just when I thought I would finally be having a slightly more tranquil Christmas, I began to be swamped with marking and editing. And there is, of course, that matter of Christmas activities in church, and other forms of RESPONSIBILITIES to fulfil both at home and in church.

As I was busy rushing some editing work, I heard a group of people singing a Christmas carol on TV. It did not sound angelic nor was it perfectly harmonized, but there was something very sincere in those voices that made me look up from my work. Indeed, I saw a small congregation in a tiny church singing praises to God. It was not a fancy church in a modern place but more like a simple church on a remote island; there was no state-of-the-art building nor elaborate stage with the best PA and the most modern musical instruments. Just a place where everyone was solely concentrated on worshipping the Lord.

Now, that is where I really wanna be for Christmas...

I often tell people that there are two songs I wish to include in my funeral service, if I may: Jesus Loves Me This I Know and Still. One tells of Christ's love for us, while the other assures that in whatever stormy situation we face, He will always be there and be in control. I love the last line from Still best, "I will be still and know that You are God."

Oh, of course I am not saying that we should all ditch our responsibilities and run to a remote island to worship God (though that sounds super appealing). My wish for all the busy Christians this Christmas then is that we take some time off so that we may BE STILL AND KNOW THAT HE IS GOD.

Blessed Christmas!

Only for illustration purposes: I am sure the actual barn was not so organized.

A Naked Lil Girl in Our Society

While waiting at the service centre for my car to be ready, I came across a newspaper article on beggars who were able to collect up to RM3,000 a weekend. The more I read, the more frustrated I became. Some of us do not even earn that much after working hard 8 hours a day, 5 1/2 days a week, for an entire month!

It did not help when the person at the counter later presented me with a long itemised list of parts of my car (which I did not even know existed) that needed to be replaced and its respective charges. I could certainly do a lot with that additional RM3,000!

While there are some people who do not think twice before giving alms to strangers on the streets or at the night markets, I am embarrassed to admit that I am not one of them. Whenever it comes to beggars or strangers, I am quite skeptical. No, make that VERY skeptical. Unfortunately, I would normally regret not giving them anything after I have walked away ...

I recall one of the mornings when Euro 2016 fever was at its peak. There was a very interesting match in the wee hours of the morning; as a result, I had been deprived of sleep. Well, more than usual, that is. As I was walking down the walkway that connects Pavilion KL to Jalan Sultan Ismail, I caught a glimpse of a young child about 5-8 years old walking up and down the stairs. It was not an entirely unusual sight, except for the fact that the child was absolutely NAKED.

There was not a single thread on that child. I immediately thought that perhaps the parents were nearby. What made it alright for the parents to be nearby while the kid was completely naked in the heart of town on a Monday morning, I do not know. But perhaps it was the faulty reasoning of the sleep-deprived Euro 2016 mind. Then I thought that perhaps it was yet another prank or a silly 'social experiment'. Well, I was not in the mood on a Monday morning to be pranked or experimented on.

When I took a second glance, I saw that the said kid was a little girl. We have seen many lil boys parading naked (okay, maybe not so often these days) but it was not that common for a girl that age to walk around naked, and in the middle of the city. Yet, my mind was so muddled that it never occurred to me that something must have been wrong.

That is, not until I reached the bottom of the stairs and overheard the lady at the nearby nasi lemak stall saying to one of her customers, "Yalah, kesian dia." (Yes, that poor thing.)

I continued my journey to the college and by the time I reached there, I felt lower than a snake's belly. I should have done something. I should have asked her if she was alright. I should have asked where her parents were. I should have made a call to the police. At least that would have been worth something. Anything at all.

The more I thought about it, the worse I felt. I asked if any other student had witnessed that incident on their way to college but some of them shrugged it off as a joke. They said I must have been really 'lucky' to encounter such things to begin my week. They only sobered when I told them that she could have been a victim of human trafficking or even rape.

It is so sad for our society to reach this stage where we have become immune and afraid of helping strangers. We have read, heard, watched, and witnessed so many incidents where the Good Samaritan gets punished or framed for helping others.

A woman who stops to help a weeping child may end up being accused of kidnapping or even worse, led to houses where she gets robbed and/or raped. A man who stops to help a woman to fix her flat tyre in the middle of the road may also suffer the same fate. Let's face it: We are all exposed to scams 24/7.

I once asked online friends if they had ever refrained from helping a stranger at the last minute simply because they thought that person may not be genuine. It turns out that I am not alone and that many of us do get caught in that dilemma, after all.

Nonetheless, it was comforting to know that there are still people out there who believe in helping others, regardless of the consequences. Some have even purchased meals and sat down to talk to these strangers. I do observe that it is much easier for guys than for girls, though. Maybe it is their instinct to be protective, but most guys would be ever ready to help. Whether Christians, Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists, free-thinkers, or atheists, they feel that they have been blessed so much, so it is their duty to help others who are in need. When I asked one of them if he expects his sister to help strangers, he said that he would definitely stop her because it is more dangerous for a female to do the same.

Case in point, a female friend said she once gave a lift to a foreigner who had his bag snatched at 6 AM in the morning. There were no other cars around and she felt compelled to send him to the hotel. Of course, she had an earful from her boss and her mother after that. It was true. That victim could have been part of a syndicate to lure young women to an unknown location and either rob and/or rape her. Sad, uh?

I agree with that friend, even if I may not have the courage to do the same. If I were in a foreign country and had lost my bag, I would be forever indebted to the stranger who offers to at least send me to the hotel. I would not want to be stranded in the middle of nowhere with no money to spare, and no valid travel documents.

We have all heard, "Do unto others, what you would want others to do unto you." Yet, I learned that it is not our right to demand for a helping hand from strangers just because we need it.

Coincidentally, on the same day that I saw the naked girl in the city, I walked back to the carpark only find that two of my tyres were rather deflated. Some people will conclude that it was karma for not helping that small girl, but I digress. As I struggled with the tyres, a smartly-dressed guy who parked next to my car just watched and drove away without even a word. Yup, perhaps I was not cute enough and did not really pass off as a damsel in distress but I prefer to think that I had the looks of a female mechanic who seemed to be fully in control of the situation. =) Either way, he did not offer to help and I did not feel comfortable imposing.

I guess we would never know whether we should or should not render help when strangers approach us. Part of us would think, "I would definitely want others to help me if I were caught in the same situation", while the other part would go, "Don't be an idiot. That person is probably gonna scam you."

I was engrossed in a discussion with a friend at a coffee shop in a busy hypermarket in KL when an unknown lady took long strides to our table and approached me for money. She quickly explained that she needed money because she had been diagnosed with cancer. What happened next was even more bizarre: with the speed of lightning she then lifted her blouse, presumably to show me her breasts. I was caught off-guard and did not know how to respond. I do know of people who are genuinely in need of money for treatment and are willing to do almost anything to get it. I have seen a man who sells home-baked muffins outside Maybank in PJ Old Town just to support his daughter's medical expenses. I have also come across a girl who walks from store to store selling her home-baked muffins to support her studies. At the same time, it is not every day that women lift their shirts to show me their bare breasts in a crowded place...

I just shook my head and said no. How did I feel after that, you ask? Of course I felt guilty because there I was enjoying an RM14 plate of nasi lemak, yet I did not give her a single dollar. Till this day, I do not know what to make of that encounter. Someone said I should have bought her a meal, but she was asking for money. And just like that Euro 2016 sleep-deprived mind, the bare-breasts mind was not functioning at its best, either.

To be, or not to be, that is the question.

- Hamlet / William Shakespeare

We love to quote these words from Shakespeare's Hamlet. While Hamlet contemplates between living and dying, our "question" is often, "To give or not to give?"

Is there an absolute answer to this? Unfortunately, no. We can only review on a case-to-case basis. But if it helps you to sleep better at night, then act accordingly. And most importantly, do not expect anything in return.

2016: The Year I Chose to Make Margarita Instead

When life gives you lemons, make lemonade, OR lemon cheesecake, OR lemon curd, OR lemon chicken, OR margarita!

"I've heard that you're no longer working at XXX, so where are you attached to these days?"

Since the beginning of this year, friends, relatives, students, and acquaintances have asked me the same question many times. My reply would always be :

"Oh ... here, there, and everywhere. I'm actually teaching part-time."

At the very mention of the tabooed word - part-time, their faces would immediately dissolve into a pitiful and sympathetic expression, much similar to the expression that a full grown adult usually receives after the earth-shattering discovery, "Oh (gasp), you mean you're not married? But why?"

They will then proceed to console the unfortunate soul by saying, "It's OK. Give the economy some time. I'm sure you'll find a full-time job soon." Or, in that second instance, they would say, "It's OK. I'm sure you'll find the right person soon."

On one hand, I am sincerely moved by their concern. Seriously, I am far from feeling offended at all.

On the other hand, I have been trying very hard to explain to almost everyone that even though holding a full-time job and having a life partner may be the society's norm, some of us have actually grown quite comfortable not doing either, or both.

Let's begin with the second issue: Back when I was in school, many friends had assumed that I would eventually make a good wife. Erm, to be more accurate, a good housewife. Why? No, I was never a sex-bomb nor someone with a drop, dead, gorgeous figure to attract half of the male population. I never even had that cute, sweet, and innocent face most of my classmates were born with.

A female Inspector Gadget

Where, when, how, and why then did this notion exist? Perhaps that honourable nomination for 'a good housewife' stemmed from the way I held the broom while sweeping the class, or perhaps it was the way I held the toilet brush while scrubbing at the bowl with all my life. My family never had a cleaner or a maid, so we were trained since young to do housework. As a result, the broom and the brush always looked like natural extensions of my hand. Thus, some friends thought that I would perhaps some day make a rather convenient housewife ... something like a female version of Inspector Gadget.

When I hit puberty and started to develop even more shock absorbents on my derriere, friends used to tease that I would be very fertile, and thus, make a good mother.

Yup, you could see that our sense of logic (along with our understanding of biology) was very much screwed back then ...

Kim Kardashian vs. Angelina Jolie

Decades have passed since and I have yet to prove any of the above hypothesis right. No one knows if I would make a good housewife. And no one knows if indeed people with big bums are more fertile than their skinny counterparts. The last I checked, Angelina Jolie still has more children than Kim Kardashian. Or that I would not be a terrible parent who ends up having to bail my kids out of the lockup once they hit their rebellious teenage years.

You see, most people at my age would usually be married, with kids, and working full-time. I, on the other hand, have none of the above.

While the rest of the world may regard an unmarried and childless female as pitiful, I beg to differ.

In fact, it is this year that I finally decided to take full advantage of what people may have deemed as my 'disadvantages.'

If you had known me well enough, you will agree that I am a workaholic. Despite all the grumbling about marathon marking and pathetic pay, I actually LOVE teaching. And I guess I'll be teaching (or nagging, whichever term fits your definition) till the day I breathe my last. I have images of myself being hooked onto the life-support machine and still struggling to use my sepet eyes to 'enlighten and educate' every visitor who sits next to my deathbed.

This penchant for teaching does not only extend to my students. Unfortunately, it has spread to every area of my life. I feel like I need to 'teach' my friends, my colleagues, my relatives, and more drastically ... my immediate superiors. Perhaps it is also due to age but I had long passed the stage when I was 100% submissive and could tolerate being pushed around at work (or anywhere, for that matter).

Towards the final quarter of last year, I felt I had to resign to save whatever was left of my sanity. I did not like the idea of people bringing out the worst in me all the time. I realised that I was becoming more of a bitter and resentful monster day-by-day, and I should like to think that this monster is NOT my true self.

I had not really dared to discuss this with many fellow colleagues because I knew that they would lovingly tell me to think twice, and I would eventually lose all guts to reprint the resignation letter ("Reprint"? Ah ... but that's the story for another day).

I tendered, and to cut the story short, I was officially JOBLESS by 29 December 2015. Friends and relatives were very worried about me. it was not a common practice to resign before securing a new job. To make matters worse, they had heard that the economy was bad:

Established educational institutions were freezing their staff intake. Some were downsizing their full-time lecturers. Why wasn't I worried? Why didn't I apply to more places? Why wasn't I attending as many job interviews as I should? What would I do for a living, then?

God has a peculiar way of dealing with people. With me, He has always allowed me to be swamped with so much work that I do not have the chance or time to worry about many trivial things in life. Not until things are pretty much settled and there is no more need to worry about it, anyway. Believe it or not, I was still finishing my final round of marking two days AFTER my last day at work. It was only then that I realised that I would be free as a bird, and ... WITHOUT A JOB!"

Ironically, I tried to share some of the concerns my friends had for myself, yet I couldn't.

And they got even more flustered when I constantly replied, "Oh, no worries. I'll just tidur bawah jambatan (sleep under the bridges). After all, I have been paying income tax and road tax for the past few years!"

Don't you agree that this charcoal painting by Rudolf Boogerman looks very realistic?

In truth, I was just too relieved to be free. I wanted some kind of rest. And somehow, it was difficult for me to explain to everyone why I deserved that rest.

As the new year began and everyone started with their usual rounds of resolutions, I finally put my finger on the reason why I was not as worried as my friends thought I should have been: My condition was very different from theirs.

Let me put it clearly:

a) I am not married, so I do not need my husband's approval before I make decisions.
b) I am childless, so I do not need to worry about my children's expenses.
c) I do not own a house, so I do not need to pay for installments.
d) I do not even drive a new car, so I do not need to pay for my 9-year old Myvi.

So you see, while the fact that I am husbandless, childless, houseless, and new-carless (if I may coin that term) seems to be a DISADVANTAGE to most people, to me and at this time, these are my ADVANTAGES.

2016: The Year I Took Advantage of My Disadvantages 

I can take that rest, because I do not have these burdens to bear. Not at this time, at least.

And the beauty of it all? I have been exposed to a whole new world of FREELANCING, which can be darn addictive, mind you! As a result, I now have more confidence, more freedom, sometimes more money, and most of all more quality time and energy to spend with my family members and loved ones.

I know that I will look back at this year in time to come and truly appreciate the meal-times I spent with my parents, the chats I had while catching up with friends, and the out-of-classroom lectures I shove into everyone who comes to me for consultation.

I may still die a pauper in a few years' time, but hey, I am not going to worry about that now. In fact, I just want to take time to sit back and thank God for all that He has blessed me with.

People say, "when life gives you lemons, make lemonade". This is partly true. But if you feel that lemon meringue pie, lemon chicken, lemon cheesecake, lemon curd, or even margarita fits you better, go for it.

After all, lemonade is NOT the ONLY option in life.  

Naughty Names and Funny Folders

Some time towards the end of last year, I was forced to do some housekeeping on the  company laptop. I had tendered my resignation and it was just a matter of time before the laptop would have to be returned to the company.  

In that process, I came across some of the most incredulous folder names, some of which I had totally forgotten:

One of my friends once shared that she had a "JIC" folder. When I asked her what the acronym stood for, she replied, "Just In Case". Apparently, she had stored all her backups in that folder. (This was, of course, back when Cloud was nonexistent or not popular). I thought that was very smart of her. I am ashamed to say that my backups, on the other hand, were scattered among folders such as "Miscellaneous", "Desktop", and "Rubbish".

Then there were, of course, important office documents such as "Office" or "Bonus and Workload Crap" where I stored all my years of KPIs and appraisals. I grudgingly recall those days when the company had occasionally loaded me with "Editing Nonsense" just because I happen to teach some English/Literature subjects. Somehow, the management had refused to believe that Literature Lecturers SHOULD NOT be confused with Copywriters, Proofreaders, or Editors.

But perhaps the folder that puts a smile on my face now is the one labelled "Mad Fella". In that folder lies all irrelevant documents created and demanded by one of the more overzealous superiors.

Now that I am on freelance, no one has yet inherited the "Mad Fella" folder. Nonetheless, teaching in three different institutions means I have at least 3 different email accounts and another 2-3 e-learning sites, all of which have different web addresses, login names, and passwords. All these are, of course, in addition to the usual logins and passwords to my personal emails, Facebook profile, Internet banking, and other online sites. For this reason, my current laptop has a file named "Passwords for Life". Before you consider hacking into that file, do be informed that I am not silly enough to save any logins or passwords of sites that are in any way linked to cash. =)

I also have another folder entitled "Tried, Tested, Proven" where I store all recipes which I have tried, tested, and ... proven.

It turns out that creating folders with weird names is not an exclusive art. When I asked around, some friends have mentioned that they too, are guilty of having in possession folders with rather suspicious names. These include "Do Not Open" (pretty obvious), "Ladies Training", "Blackhole", and "Greed". Just when I was about to conclude that this person was actively involved in human trafficking or cross-dressing, he explained that "Ladies Training" was actually a training file for a brand line, and as dodgy as "Blackhole" may suggest, it is merely a folder of articles which that person would want to read sometime in the future. "Greed" apparently contains details of debtors. (PM me if you need his contact.)

Perhaps I am not so weird, after all. But then again, I seem to notice that I have quite a few erm, strange entries in my phone, too.

Have you ever experienced this: You bump into someone at the mall and although you remember his/her name, you cannot immediately register where you first met this person. Was he/she a friend from primary school, secondary school, Form Six, undergrad, masters, the first office, second office, church, blah, blah, and blah? You begin to exchange updates about various other friends that each of you still keep in touch with, only to realise that half of that list are people not common to BOTH of you. When you come home, you excitedly tell one of your close friends that you bumped into that person. To which your close friend may answer, "Huh, who's that?" Once again, you realise that this friend does not know your other friend.

A real pigeon-hole

That is why I tend to compartmentalize and pigeon-hole my friends (sorry, guys). Unless you are a very close relative, I tend to bestow the same last names to everyone within the same organization or place where we first met. Of course some of these names may overlap, considering that some friends were with me at different phases and spheres in my life. Jennifer from institution ABC will be recorded as "Jennifer ABC", whereas Jennifer from XYZ will be known as "Jennifer XYZ". This method is not foolproof, though, but I'll save that story for another day.

When I scroll down the names in my phone, I see entries such as "Bank Nonsense" (I seem to like the word nonsense quite a lot), "DO NOT PICK UP", and "SPY". Other people claim to have "DO NOT PICK UP" in their phones, too, but upon checking, we realize that it is not the same person. Other creative names include "2 AM stalker" and "3 AM stalker". For unknown reasons, these two unidentified people have called me at those hours and had refused to say anything. I was half asleep in front of the TV when the first call came through. My brother decided to pick up the phone and save that caller as "3 AM stalker". It was therefore very natural for me to save the number of the next person who called at 2:00 AM but refused to say a word as "2 AM stalker". 

Almost the same time as I was asking around for weird entries in other people's phone, an advertisement came through via SMS at 3:45 AM one morning. It just so happened that I was catching up with my pile of work while seated in front of the telly (again), so I decided to 'punish' this person by leaving missed calls in his/her phone ... one hour later, at 4:45 AM. And another at 5:00 AM. The last one, just before I got ready for work at 5:45 AM. Call me Ms. Vindictive if you must, for I can tolerate spam messages but not at 3:45 AM in the morning! I then saved this caller's number as "Idiot @ 3:45 am".

One friend had an equally long and strange entry in her phone. Someone had called her at 12 midnight saying, "Do not leave me, Joanne!" Although she insisted that she wasn't 'Joanne', he did not believe her and kept calling. She saved his number as "Guy looking for Joanne". Other funny contributions include "Spam", "Blacklist", "Pervert", "Reject", "Gym (Do not answer)", and even "Sloth". I think if I were to go about asking for more, the list will be endless.

So what do you think? Is this a weird practice or do you also have naughty names and funny folders saved in your electronic gadgets?

Memory - A Double-Edged Sword

This post is certainly long overdue. How often have you heard someone saying something and in the next instant, you suddenly find yourself immersed in a moment of enlightenment and are filled with endless inspiration for the next blog post? The ideas come crashing violently like an avalanche but that will be the exact moment when there is nary a laptop/electronic gadget nor a piece of paper and a pen around for you to record these precious lil 'nuggets' before they slip away. 

Not being able to jot your ideas down is one thing, but not having the TIME to actually string these ideas together in your blog is another. When you finally do get to sit down and type, all the beautiful phrases you once had in mind disappear into thin air. You are, then, left with a writer's block.

Calvin's idea of a Writer's Block

... but I digress ...

... but maybe not, since the subject of this entry is on MEMORY, after all.

I seem to notice a strange obsession with the powers of memory in at least two recent TVB dramas. In one of these series, a traffic police officer has an excellent mental storage known as her memory palace in which she is able to visit and recall every minute detail about encounters she has had with practically anyone. She is nothing less than a human computer who can even mentally record the file number of each case.

Speed of Life

In another drama, a private investigator does the same. She is able to travel to the past (albeit in her mind) to look for clues which she may have missed out initially. Both women managed to solve many cases thanks to their extraordinary memory.

Eye in the Sky

Perhaps it is a coincidence that both characters are female. But then again, perhaps it is true that women do have better memory, and therefore, have better excuses for holding grudges. ;)

Well, I am a woman but sometimes I can have the memory of a potato. I may climb upstairs to my room or stand with the fridge door ajar and not remember what I had wanted to get from there in the first place. That is why I have learned a very useful skill in life: CHANTING my way to my destination. Granted, it is only applicable under 3 special conditions:

a) if you wish to retrieve only ONE item

While it is acceptable to chant, "salt, salt, salt, salt, salt" till your hand is safely wrapped around the salt shaker from across the table, there is no way for you to chant your entire shopping list. That's already singing a complete song, and you may end up with enough materials to produce an album.

b) if your destination is not too far

Even if it is just one item, you cannot be chanting "bread, bread, bread, bread, bread, bread," as you drive 7 km to TESCO.

c) if no one distracts you along the way

Remember the story of the dog that lost its precious bone after barking at its own reflection in the water? The very moment you open your mouth to speak to anyone is the exact moment when your memory spills out.

I often chant "Orange, orange, orange, orange, orange, orange ..." until I reach the refrigerator. I have also gone "phone, phone, phone, phone, phone" all the way to my room. Then there are times when I come out of my car and go "wallet, wallet, wallet, wallet, wallet..." If you do not know me, you will certainly think I am a wacko.

In fact, now that I have blabbed so much, I have forgotten the main point of this particular entry ...

I have to admit: Our memory is a very strange thing, indeed!

If my memory was that good, I would have aced every exam in school. The truth is, I have forgotten my fair share of important historical dates, scientific facts, grammatical rules, and mathematical formulae. Birthdays I can remember; anniversaries are not a challenge, but useful and important information? Nah, no way. Let's just forget about it.

Yet, I seem to have quite a peculiar collection in my personal memory store. The more nonsensical and trivial the information is, the more vividly I tend to remember. These are merely the tip of the iceberg:

i) I vividly remember refusing to walk down the aisle as a flower girl for my aunt's wedding when I was only 4. There was dry ice all over and I thought the adults must have been crazy to insist that I walk through what seemed like a 'smoky fire' to a 4-year-old.

ii) Embarassingly, I only started weaning myself off the milk bottle when my parents forgot to bring the bottle along on our very first trip to Penang. I was almost 5 then. I wailed so much but was too disgusted (and maybe even too egoistic) to accept my aunt's offer to use one of the bottles that belonged to a kid she took care of.

iii) When I was in Standard Three, one of my classmates misspelled Port Dickson as 'PORK Dickson and was reprimanded by our class teacher (who usually drew 'swimming pools' in our exercise books after drifting to sleep while marking). For some strange reason, our teacher was wide awake that day.

iv) This same best friend of mine had to literally sew me up in my pinafore when I was 11 because the zipper had given way.

v) When I was 14, the lady who sold fruits in our school canteen had commented that the natural colour of my hair was too light and had predicted that my entire head will turn gray ere long.

vi) One of the things I have brought home with my very first salary as a promoter was a big bag of Washington apples from Tops Supermarket.

All these information are non-beneficial. They cannot be exchanged for money nor can they be used to edify anyone. Even so, I think they will remain in my memory for a long time.

I do not only remember stories about myself but also about other people. For instance, my now teenaged godchildren, nieces, and nephews love to hear stories about random things they have done when they were only little babies or toddlers. I suppose their parents were too preoccupied taking care of them to take note of such insignificant facts.

It amazes me to think that I can forget important things but have such clear memory of other unimportant events. When I was flipping through one of the psychology textbooks a few years ago, I came across a very interesting term which may just explain what I am blessed with: a rather good episodic memory. Now don't ask me what that means. I cannot recall proper facts from textbooks, remember?

Sadly, this memory works as a double-edged sword. Along with all the warm, touching, encouraging, and funny anecdotes, I also tend to have equally good retention for bad memories. I recall the first (and hopefully last) time a person slapped my face (and for what reason). I recall my Standard Six PE teacher scolding me and commenting that my 'muka macam lembu' (face like a cow). I recall a boy in the school bus calling me a 'fatso'. I remember how a conman cornered me when I was barely 18. And many many more hurtful things that have happened all these years. Try as hard as I might, these things cannot be eliminated from my storage. If I had a giant eraser in life, these bad memories would have been the very first things I wish to erase. You see, they serve no purpose except to relive the pain and humiliation I felt at that time.

There is some consolation, though. My memory is starting to deteriorate with age. A case in point: I used to be able to remember all the 129 names of students from one of the Foundation classes. Now? All it takes is just 12 students to confuse me throughout the entire semester.

A classmate thinks that we should meet up more often to share these crazy stories of our childhood. My university roommate once said that I should occassionally remind her of the silly things we used to do while staying together. Former colleagues always enjoy talking about our fun-filled office days over a simple meal. Cousins laugh at each other's quirky habits as little children.

Sometimes I wish I could record all these down in writing, but it is somewhat impossible because as time passes, we generate even more memorable instances. We can only hope that the memories we generate each day will be sweet and memorable for the times to come. To quote Charles Swindoll, "each day of our lives, we make deposits in the memory banks of our children." Even when a person is long gone, memories of him/her lives on.

With that, I wish that you have a great week ahead filled with wonderful memories for the future!