Out of body: Part 3/3: About life...

Continued from Part 2/3: Alcohol and blood

I slept like a rooster eager to crow at the sight of sunrise. And considering the grave situation thrown at me, I was indeed waiting for the morning to mature. How I long to be relieved of the duty I was reluctantly assigned; when I could finally get some proper sleep. I squinted at the wall clock and saw that it was 5am. ‘People are going to wake up late today’ I sighed.

I was not sure how long I must have dozed off and how grandpa was doing, but I was so glad that morning had finally come. The sound of trickling water from the shower and the bathroom door opening woke me up. Still lying in bed, I glanced toward the washroom and saw my sister walking out. I got up and walked toward the washroom to clean up for a proper bed time. But something did not feel right. All the more strange when I thought I saw a figure on the bed where I had lay, from the corner of my left eye.

I turned around and saw that there was someone lying there. A male about my age and size, wearing only white shorts, and was sound asleep. He was flat on his back, both arms straight on his sides. I froze. I was too shocked to move and take a closer look, No explanation came to me except that the person lying there was myself, my own body! What the hell am I doing, standing here, when I am supposed to be there? No…No…This is not happening! I refused to accept this. I tried to get a hold of myself and told myself not to panic and remain calm. But it was no good. Standing there I felt all my blood draining down to the floor, sending painful chills from head to toe. I felt light. Sadness came over me and I was trembling. It was the deepest sorrow I have ever felt in my whole but seemingly short life. Tears blurred my vision but I blinked many times to wipe them away. Then I remembered about my sister. Her name is Lora but we call her La. I called out to her. ‘La, please come her for a moment’

‘What is it?’ she asked as she walked out of her room, oiling her hair.

Without looking at her and still facing my body I said ‘There, look’

Lora stepped back, a look of shock and disbelief instantly beamed on he face. She looked at me and the bed several times. She said nothing and after a long while held my arm. With her oily palms she squeezed my arm and softly asked ‘Are you really dead?’ Horror and sadness clouded her face.

The reality struck me hard. No! I can’t be! It’s not time yet. I pulled away from Lora and stormed toward my body, trembling and teary. One look was all it took to make my decision. I positioned myself over my lifeless body, lying on my side with my head resting on my left arm. It felt surprisingly easy to get back into my body. Once I was sure my soul and body were one, I told myself, ‘Here we go Agus, You’ve passed the first step. Now get ready to wake up again.’

I counted to three and sprang out of bed. I walked a few steps away to get a wider angle but to my dismay, my body was still in bed. And my left eye felt swollen.

‘Damn!’ I cursed.
‘One more time. This time spring up quicker and jerk harder.’ I coached my soul. My heart was beating insanely fast due to anxiety and desperation.

So I got back into my body and waited a few seconds until I felt whole again. Gathering as much energy and will as I could, I was determined to make it the second time. ‘On three…one, two, three’ and I stood upright again, staring at my body that I had come to despise very deeply.

Before the sadness and hopelessness overwhelmed me completely, I decided to attempt another revival. ‘Come on Agus, you can do this. Third time’s a charm. Spring quick, turn swift, jerk hard and kick with all your might! If that won’t do it, I don’t know what will!’ I offered myself last words of strategy and support. I didn’t care how beaten up clichés they were, because all I wanted was to get out of bed, alive!

‘On three! One…two…three!’

True enough I woke up a wholly happy man! I was partially lying on my side, the back of my head on the pillow. ‘But why am I still lying in bed, not standing up like previous attempts?’ I asked. I looked around and the sun was shining, it’s rays peered through the window. The smell and sound of breakfast being prepared came from downstairs; coffee, toast, I never thought they could make me cry. I grabbed my arms, looked at them, squeezed one after the other, rubbed my palms over and around my face and knew for certain that it was over. It was just a series of bad dreams. A dream about waking up on the wrong side, the other side. My sore left eye turned out to be the result of being pressed on my left bicep.

I have never come to a conclusion so quickly and feeling ecstatic about it so instantly. I am and will always be alive and well, till the day I really die. But let’s not go there just yet. There is life to be celebrated. Life to live and savor, every breathing moment of it.

After the dust in my head settled, I started thinking, gathering bits and pieces of events in dream and real time. It made me smile. I let out a soft chuckle. Hah! Was that a bizarre dream or what! All that mystical ritual and an injured grandfather messed up my head real good last night.

Grandpa! Where’s grandpa? I went downstairs and saw grandpa sipping hot coffee and watching tv. All well and as composed as an owl. His head was still wrapped, neatly this time. My sister was in the kitchen stirring her drink when I asked her about grandpa. ‘We’re taking him to the hospital after breakfast, which is soon. He looks okay though.’ She said.

Good. I hope he’s not seriously injured. No internal bleeding or fatal infections.

Before turning away, I stared at Lora for a while, trying to fish out any strand of knowledge about my dream.

‘What?’ she asked. I hinted a smile and said ‘Nothing…’

Damned! It feels good to be alive!

.

.

.

There you go. A story about a real dream that I would never, ever wish come true; it was just a dream. A story about a dream laced with heavy suspiscions of the effects of watching too much tv, Ghost, The Collector and Tru Calling to name a few. A story out of this world, or rather, out of this body...

Out of body: Part 2/3: Alcohol and blood

Continued from Part 1/3: Miring
...

After a simple miring ceremony at my sister’s house in Kapit, we had dinner. A nice array of food and drinks, deserts and snacks were served and we ate to our hearts’ content. The miring plates have been placed in every family member’s room. The women got the talking and the men started the mandatory drinking session outside at the porch. It seemed my brother in law’s mother had stocked up a good deal of home made rice wine brew called ‘tuak’ as a result of their previous year’s absence from the scene. His father passed away last year so there was no celebration then. Tuak and a host of other imported liquors made the drinking session very lively. Moderation is slowly forgotten and no one noticed it diluting with all that alcohol; it wasn’t missed. But the ambiance was pleasant and orderly, contrary to most sessions elsewhere.

Around the table sat my brother in law, a few friends and relatives and his grandfather. Yes, his grandfather is an old and wise gentleman. More than once, telling me how my father is a humble and gracious man, how he is the people’s person who gets along very well with everyone, and that he respects my father as much as my father respects him. All this did not surprise me much as this was one of his many values that he strongly insists his children bear. It does however made me glad, despite wanting to be better than my father, that I was indirectly told that I inherited a good trait.

This old man is also soft spoken and mild mannered. Often times it is said that alcohol intoxication brings out the worst in people. But this grandpa just kept on smiling as he dished out sensible thoughts and deductions when it was expected of him. Once in a while his facial expressions indicated deep thoughts, like his mind went off somewhere remote to retrieve something important. He left the table a few times to flush out the excessive fluid consumed throughout the session and at one point, didn’t return. We finally agreed that he has retired from the session and has called it a day. We continued our discussions, though I can’t really recall a solid issue. It was this and that, here and there. Such are dialogues fuelled by alcohol.

After a while my sister’s niece called out to her grandma and said she heard a few thuds upstairs. I went in and she told me that great grandpa had gone upstairs a while ago and just now she heard something hit the floor. ‘It could be grandpa.’ she said.

Both of us rushed upstairs, into his room, and there was grandpa lying on his left side, his back against the wall and his head right at the corner of the room. And ironing board had fallen nearby and it brought down the iron as well. An ashtray slipped off a reading table, scattering a number of cigarette butts and sprinkling ash all over the floor. Grandpa was mumbling something and was almost crouching, his head resting on his left arm. Eyes shut, he was in a mixed state; dead sleepy, intoxicated and groggy, and in pain. I took a closer look at the corner and saw blood stains on the wall. Trickles of blood I then saw on the floor. I reached for his head, felt his scalp and had blood on my fingers. Her daughter, my sister’s mother in law, came in afterwards. She told her granddaughter to fetch a bowl of warm water and a piece of cloth.

“Ah, he’s had too much. Must have fallen and tried to get up again” she said, calm but worried. We looked around, gathering as many clues as we could and attempting to guess what went on earlier. It looked like he went to the toilet to throw up and as he walked back into the room, he reached for the ironing board for support, knocking down the ashtray from the table nearby in the process. Unfortunately the flimsy board gave way too easily and he fell, near the corner. The accompanying iron missed him and hit the floor instead. He fumbled for the wall, tried to get back on his feet, leaning against the wall for support as he pushed himself up. This lead his head toward edge of a mosquito mesh frame and a sharp aluminum corner carved into his scalp. The scorching pain must have disabled him completely, causing him to fall tight into the corner and helplessly wait with the hope that someone downstairs heard the commotion.

As his daughter cleaned his scalp he let out a few painful yelps and moans. She wiped the blood and vomit off his face and wrapped his head to stop the bleeding. They laid him carefully in bed and hoped he’ll be alright. It was almost 3 am when everything was calm again, and since lying in my room allowed a full view of the patient, grandma told me to be on guard just in case he pulls a deadlier stunt.

“Great! Uhm, do I sleep lightly or just stay wide awake in the process? Sheesh!” I grumbled in silence.
As much as I hate the predicament I’ve landed in, I don’t want this old man to die under my watch. That would not make for a jolly good gawai. And so I slept extremely light, making sure I jump at the slightest sound. My thoughts played all kinds of possible dreadful scenarios. One depicted him lying there, his moans getting louder as it built up into a scream; an eerie scream of death. Arghhhhhhh . Another showed the morning sun rays gleaming on a dead body in the next room, a sign that I spent one night sleeping with the dead.

I was miserably terrified that night. I was stuck between an unknown group of watchful spirits represented by a miring plate full of eggs, rice and wheat pops, a feather etc, etc, and an old man who might just be cold and stiff the next day. An air brewing a storm of mystical notion and probable death filled my bedroom that night, or rather, early morning. Although the lights were turned on it felt very dark and cold from where I laid, stiff and anxious. Once in a while I would hear faint moans and my ears pricked, my head quickly directed a view to the room and like an eagle’s eyes, mine would zoom as close as possible to assess the situation. Each time was a false alarm. But I was told to be on guard. And I will do my best not to disappoint, till death fails me.

A night of sleepless endurance, a room assumed to harbor guardians and a system drenched with sleep-inducing alcohol; it doesn’t get any worse than this, I thought.

But I was wrong.

And this is to be continued. Part 3 of 3

Out of body: Part 1/3: Miring

This happened about six months back, in June 2005, during Gawai Dayak, a rice harvest festival celebrated by the Dayaks of Sarawak. Dayaks are natives of Sarawak in Borneo and are generally specified as tribes of Iban(Sea Dayak) or Bidayuh(Land Dayak). I am a Bidayuh. I was in Kapit celebrating with my sister’s family and a good friend. He, on then other hand, was there to attend his girlfriend’s sister’s engagement ceremony. So we went together.

Me (all 85 kilos of me) and my friend, Dony.

During Gawai celebrations the miring ceremony is performed to receive blessings from the gods and deities for a prosperous year as well as give thanks for the bountiful harvest. It is usually done a few days before the official festival begins, typically on Gawai Eve. Although many Dayaks in Sarawak are now Christian, this ceremony is still held as a tradition and to signify the end of harvesting season, thus begin the Gawai Celebration. Miring is a must in Kapit, a rural town of predominantly Iban community. Ask anyone there and they’ll tell you that Gawai is not complete without miring. Gawai is not Gawai without miring.

Family members' plates being set up by a guest.

So, as every household have their miring, each family member of the family to be blessed is given his own plate consisting of several items like eggs, rice and wheat, prepared by the family and assembled by honored guests. My friend and I each have our own first plates. For me, I was a member of my sister’s family. For my friend, he was the future son in law. Both at different households of course. This gave us both the creeps.

A family being blessed during the 'miring' ceremony.

Associating with the spirit world made us uneasy. Yes, the true meaning is no longer intact. And yes they say it’s for the sake of the elders who see it as a necessity. But the act itself is enough to mess our thoughts with every kind of mystical notions. It was fine watching other families at it. But to be blessed through a rooster and chicken’s blood is disturbing. What’s more, we each had to bring it to wherever we were sleeping for the night, a one night stand if you will. Mine was on the buffet table in my sister’s bedroom, where I sleep facing it. It’s for good luck they said. “They’ll keep a watch over you”.

Miring materials for the chief's family, being prepared; to be arranged by honored guests at a longhouse.

My sister said, “I was not really into it at first. Exactly feeling like you are right now. But my in laws insist we have a miring ceremony every Gawai, and so, your brother in law does it to please them actually. But I learned to deal with it. I don’t think much of it and take it as another routine during the festival, much like the cooking, eating, drinking and merrymaking. It is simply meant to officiate the Gawai celebration for every family, that’s all.”

I guess I can do the same. As long as I think nothing of it, I’ll be fine.

But I was wrong.

And this is to be continued. Part 2 of 3

La lunar...

I would like to wish a Happy Chinese New Year to whomever it may concern. May the year of the fire dog brings much happiness and prosperity to you and your family.

This festivity is kicking up a storm here in Kuala Lumpur. It seems everyone in the asian region is upbeat about it. I for one, am keeping my fingers crossed for a bonus. My very own 'ang pow' from the boss. How appropriate. He did give hints in the last meeting.

Last Saturday I went to One Utama to check out the festive decorations and coffee accessories outlets. There was a sketch about some dynasty's princesses, a goddess, the emperor and his ministers and a monkey boy. You figure out the rest since I got there halfway and was too concerned about my shots to care about the show's essence. Moral of the story? None.

Fan dance, 'zat what you call it? Fanscinating !

There's the goddess, beside the emperor, his three daughters up front, the wise man with the long beard on his left, six fan ladies and three flag guys. Honestly, I suck at this. The only thing I got was that the emperor was glad he has three wise daughters who presented him with a lantern, a scroll and a something, each. Perhaps someone could link me up to the story.


After the show, the audience got to pose with the cast. The attention was on the native costume really.
Oriental Gandalf, No?
Then as I was roaming around, I heard drum beats. Loud and deep. It's the lion dance troupe! Run to the scene! I've always been facsinated by the sights and sounds, ever since I was a little boy.
I took loads of photos but these were most intriguing. When at the supermarket, do what the lions do. Sniff...sniff...
Copulate...

And hatch a red fruit basket for the premise owner/representative. Sorry guys, I didn't really know what was going on except the so called partner became idle for a long time. Everybody was waiting for some action and the next thing you know, it gave out a fruit basket, containing a large pineapple, Ouch!.. Perhaps someone could enlighten me.

Idol

I got home from work yesterday and as usual ended up on the couch watching tv. After a while my housemate came up to me and asked “How come you’re suddenly devoted to American Idol?”

I was rendered speechless. Just then I realized what I’ve turned into. For the past seasons of the show I have ignored all the hype that surrounded it. People were talking about it day in day out. The media’s coverage was suffocating. The public’s admiration and support were mind blowing. The gossip and emotional outburst, of judges, contestants and supporters, were puzzling and at times irritating. There were temptations and opportunities to have myself hooked, more than I could handle, but I did not bite. I know Kelly, Ruben, and Fantasia won previously. I came to like Bo Vice (correction, Bice, thanks HappySurfer) and thought he should have won. But that is about all I can immediately remember without straining my memory stick and a few clicks on Google.

But now I find myself catching the second audition in Denver. Maybe I got used to the hype, and know how to handle the comments by the three judges. Maybe, I think I understand what it is all about; entertainment and revenues; and take it as it is. Maybe I've come to notice the change in attitudes of the contestants and their supporters; how they view the big picture. Maybe I've accepted the endless range of human behavior, characteristics and psychology; how I can never begin to comprehend and will not attempt to.

Truth be told, I do enjoy the entertaining moments. The insanely funny and outrageous efforts to grab attention. The touching and inspiring small steps to victory. The surprising ‘yes’ verdicts especially from Simon when we expect him to brutally murder it. Unfortunately there are moments of deeply embarrassing performances that make me look away, squint and frown and lower down the volume. But that’s all in the name of entertainment.

I guess there is no harm in watching and I’ll stop when I’ve had enough. And to my housemate I only said “I don’t know really. Just to keep up to date about the show, while I still can”

Burred again

*Warning: This post may get technical and boring. Decaf not available.

Having experienced the cranky way of grinding coffee beans made me itch for an electric burr grinder. Somehow spending several minutes and elbow grease on a manual grinder is too much work and triggers too much thinking on whether another shot is necessary after grinding just enough for the earlier shot. Even that sentence was a mouthful!

So I’ve been researching the types of electric grinders that are affordable and I mean affordable. It turns out, there are not many offered here in KL. And as I was at The Curve last Saturday looking for an outlet for Coffex coffee, I saw two Italian made electric grinders which cost RM1500. Whoa! So I settled for what I was initially looking for, Coffex SuperBar Espresso Beans.

Then I browsed Harvey Norman store at Ikano Power Center nearby. I was delighted to see a DeLonghi DCG59 Retro Burr grinder. The price, RM299, as expected. But OMG! Should I take it home today? Can I bear several days more to survey other places for better options? This is just another impulse purchase that I can’t afford!

There was another brand, Krupps and it costs RM245 but it doesn’t look quite nice.

Oh, what the heck. It’s Saturday and I’ve got the night and the whole weekend to play with it. And so I took DeLonghi home.
I got home and immediately tested the product. I set it to espresso grind and to my disappointment, the ground was still too coarse. And that was as fine as it could go! Damn! How much do I have to pay to get a reliable grinder? Crap! I spent almost 300 Malaysian bucks on something that sucks!

Calm down. Calm down. How can I make this better? This is something I can work with. This is a piece of plastic with no complex electronics and metal bits. Well, discounting the motor that is. After opening the beans container, examining the blades and studying how grind setting is adjusted, I was determined to perform a plastic surgery on this biatch.
I cut the stopper stub that functions as a maximum point that the beans container can be twisted to get the finest ground. But it could only get so far. There was a safety switch located in a groove that prevented it from operating beyond the manufactured setting. This called for another modification; to bypass that switch by shortening it and cover the hole in the grove with a thin metal strip so that it permanently pushes the switch to the ‘ON’ position.
The amateur procedure turned out okay and now I’m experimenting with the best modified setting. An extended play.

Phew! There was a moment, after cutting the safety switch short, that it just wouldn't turn on! I thought I lost it! But all was good after I figured that it needed a bypass. Nearly gave me a heart attack there.

The following are sentences taken from the manufacturer’s product description. Inserted in blue is what I think.

-BURR-TYPE GRINDING WHEEL produces a uniform ground texture for consistent results every time.
Actual-Too much powder produced. The finest grind setting is still too coarse for espresso machines. I had to tweak it to get finer grounds. I cut away the setting stub/stopper so that the two blades are closer. How ever this caused another problem; the safety switch does not allow operation in this ‘overtwist’ position. Solution; permanently pressing the switch to ‘ON’ position with thin but stiff material; I used a thin copper plate.

-RETRO STYLED COFFEE GRINDER beautifully accents any kitchen decor.
Actual-Agreed. Definitely adds to kitchen details. Looks pretty and elegant.

-DUAL SAFE SYSTEM A De’Longhi exclusive, this system is equipped with an automatic safety device that shuts down the grinding wheels if either the ground coffee or bean container is removed.
Actual-After my modification, this becomes a single safe system. The only system left working is the ground coffee container’s safety switch. Before, both the beans and the ground container has to be properly installed/attached before the grinder is operational. Now, it operates even when the beans container is not in place since the switch is permanently at ‘ON’.

-TABLESPOON TIMER an easy-to-use system that lets you grind only what you need for the number of cups you’re brewing.
Actual-The timer is time based. The timing depends on the grind setting; the finer setting requires slightly more time to get the same amount of coarse grinds

-GRIND SELECTOR WITH 8 SETTINGS Allows you to choose a precise grind setting from coarse (for percolators and coffee urns), to medium (for drip coffee makers), to fine (for espresso makers) to extra fine…to suit your personal taste. With 8 settings, you can select the perfect grind for any type of brewing process.
Actual-Precise this grinder is NOT. It works well for drip and French press. Eight is not enough! Not nearly enough for espresso machines. Only with further modifications can you get good espresso type grounds.

-SELF-CONTAINED CORD STORAGE Easy rewind knob keeps cord out of the way when not in use.
Actual-This feature is good for storage. Otherwise, why would you bother rewinding cord in and out for everyday use? Just leave it in the damned plug!

-3.5-OUNCE (100 GRAM) GROUND COFFEE CONTAINER Allows for convenient dispensing, measuring and storing of ground coffee. And the removable sealed lid keeps grounds fresh.
Actual-Good design but too much static! Powder deposits at the outlet and cleaning is necessary. Keeping the grounds defeats the purpose of a quick grinder.

-DESIGNED AND ENGINEERED IN ITALY
Actual-Still room for engineering improvement, a critical one I must add.

Overall : I use this to get ground coffee when I want it quick. This electric burr grinder heats up ground coffee due to friction and high rotation speed. It is also very noisy. It could be designed to spin slower with maintained power. If I have time and elbow grease I will use the hand cranked mill in a heartbeat because it consistently gives uniform ground texture. And it doesn’t heat up and produce oily powder deposits.

Bing! Your coffee, Sir.

There is a Café called Bing Coffe Company in Kuching and it is simply a jade. Tucked in an old bazaar along Jalan Padungan which is lined with rows of old shop houses, it’s façade strikes as a subtle welcome to passers by. Repeat customers have no problem locating this place either. However, there is a simple trick to entering this premise which is from the side and the door looks more like the ones used for a walk in freezer; crude rustic aluminum feature. I was like ‘Huh? Could this be the main entrance? Oh what the heck! The worst thing is I could end up in the kitchen or the pantry, or even the freezer! And so it was that I discovered a lovely caffeine joint in Kuching during my last trip in November 2005. Another entrance is through a small rock garden at the back.

Once inside however, a cozy and warm feeling blankets you. The décor makes you stop on your tracks, walk gingerly and gaze at every nooks, crannies, bends and curves. You will want to explore the Balinese setting, complete with a portrait of Buddha and some ornaments which looked like they were snitched from a nearby temple. My head turned left, right, center and behind to soak in every little detail.

I was so curious about the place that I asked if there was a seating area upstairs judging by the staircase I saw beside the counter. The waiter told me otherwise and said only an office is upstairs. 'Probably Bing's administrative office', I thought, and left it at that.

I noticed it was a self service joint and head to the counter to order the usual; a double espresso. ‘This should be good. They serve Illy’, I thought. Free flow of ice water refills accompany whatever you order here. And the espresso was great. I’m not an expert but I know a good espresso when I have one. Even a Starbucks' outlet manager friend of mine said they make the best Illy espresso in town! He’s been there a couple of times as well.

Although he strongly thinks that the lighting and ambience does not fit a café's profile. A little too dark-ish and gloomy he said; most probably would suit a lounge or a bar instead. A cafe should be a briliant and cheerful place to match the strong scents and the bubbly scenario it usually promotes, to induce more purchases, he added. But to me, the red and orange tones and rays of yellow lighting, coupled with bright sphere shades, toned the place just right. Small ambience lighting here and there and a trendy bare plastered wall make up for the somber base lighting. You be the judge. Drop by that place and let me know what you think, if you're in the neighborhood that is.


I also learned that they provide free wi-fi and my second visit the next day proved this to be a popular hotspot. People were enjoying their coffee with a good surf on the net. But you don’t need to bring a laptop and surf to spend a large chunk of your day here. Groups of people were having times of their lives chatting, exchanging fun stories and juicy gossips, or even closing a business deal; ordering second and third helpings as they curled up the sofa and hugged the stashed pillows.

Did I get paid for this? Yeah, I wish! But why all the praises? Well, I just think they deserved it. Plus, the setting allowed for many nice shots for which, proper credits should be in order. But because I was too shy to position myself for good shots and angles, and don't want to stick out like a sore thumb, I shot with haste, hence the shaky and blur pictures.

Oh, since I didn’t have any meals either, there is no food for review here. You can find some F&B reviews and more pictures by following these links;

http://www.mum-mum.info/2004/09/bing-bing-bing-as-promised-posting-on.html

http://www.sixthseal.com/2004/08/the_bing.html

bing coffee company sdn. bhd.

no. 84 pandungan road 93100 kuching, sarawak

Phone : +60-82-410 188 Fax : +60-82-259 188

Email : info@bingcoffee.com

Bing me up, Scotty!

Leaves me alone

This is a view from the Universiti LRT Station platform. The thing that caught my attention was the yellowish green buds among the green leaves. Cute and spunky. Then I stood back and realised that this is a nice view in spite of the location. It's nice to see nature preserved on a small patch of land in the city. Look carefully and you'll see a white apartment building in the background. I thought the leaves were nice but the picture turned out better than I expected. This is my current desktop wallpaper. It gives me a view of the woods each time I clear the screen. Serene.

Can you help me?

I was around Bintang Walk during lunch, heading to Low Yat plaza to get a USB external hard disk housing when all of a sudden this Caucasian guy came up to me and said hi. I was caught off guard and I suspect that’s the deal. Of all the people that passed by he jumped on me just as I was looking up to eye level. See, I have this thing, call it asian if you wish but I try not to make eye contact with people I pass on the street. I usually keep a view of legs and body so as not to bump into people. Only once in a while that I look up and give a good scan just in case I happen to see someone familiar, or for whatever reason. And it is at this point that this so called tourist got me. He immediately asked if I speak English and I said yes. I thought he was going to ask for direction or something.

He smiled and continued, “I was in Langkawi a few days ago, on a vacation, when I got this problem. You see my belongings were stolen and I lost most of my documents, passport, wallet. I’m from England. If you go there one day you’d have a nice place to stay.”

Huh? What’s helping you got to do with me going to England? I help because I can and want to, not whether you promise me something in return.” These thoughts came to me instantly. At this point all the scam stories flooded in. Stories of foreigners asking for currency exchange, black money, help to get money for deceased family member in foreign banks, etc.etc.

But he’s a fast talker and continued, “I lost almost everything”. He took something from his pocket and I heightened my guard. He unfolded a copy of a police report and said “I’ve made a police report, here, look.”

I glanced at the piece of paper and there was the police logo and stamp on it, a police report document no doubt, complete with signatures and all. But I took caution not to touch anything so after a few moments he folded it and put it back in his pocket.

“I’ve contacted home and my father is sending me the things I need. So what do you think?”

I was lost for words. While still smiling I tried to find good answers, excuses to get away before anything bad happens to me. How can I tell him that I want to help him but there are so many scams and tricks these days, people are often left thousands of bucks poorer.

How to tell him that I’ve heard about many incidents reported in the papers and don’t want to make the statistics or front page? Also, I need to know what is it that he wants from me. Sure, he needs help but what kind? Plus, he looked relaxed enough for a man who lost precious documents and cash in a foreign land. He has only the clothes on his back, but for all I know, it’s his tactic. Well clothed I must add.

Finally he leaned toward the direction I was looking and asked, “Can you help me?”

Yes, finally a valid question. Now’s my chance. Still sporting the smile I said “I don’t think so. You need to….”

Before I could complete the sentence he instantly turned away, as quick as he had came up to me earlier. I got a glimpse of his disappointed face and quickly got the hell out of there. I felt a tinge of guilt hit me. Sadness and sympathy crept in. I felt sorry for him. But what was I to do? I had to protect myself and make sure that I’m in no danger before I jump into helping him. For all I know he is the master scam artist.

I got thinking real hard today because of this. I am sorry I could not help him. I am sorry I could not get enough information to convince myself that he really needed help. I don’t care if I have a nice place to stay in England! Chances are, I’ll never get there anywhere. All I need to know and be really sure of is that I won’t get conned. That he is genuine. But I was too worried and inexperienced to find out safely.

Questions came gushing in. Questions that might validate his case. I could have asked him about the place he stayed in Langkawi. But what for? I’ve never been there. What good does it do? I won’t know if there are places to get help there. Even if there was, he’s already here. A big duhh!! for me there.

I could also ask where was the police report done? Langkawi? KL? Let’s see, if he lost his belongings in Langkawi, how was it possible for him to get all the way to KL. He could use the remaining cash to sort things out there and then instead of spending it to travel to KL. Yeah, continue his trip to KL even though he’s been mugged shitless.

Has he sought the embassy’s help. British Embassy? If he’s in trouble the first help would be to ask for directions to the embassy where people serving his country would gladly sort things out for him, otherwise, what’s the point of such place? If he has gone there, what the hell is he doing on the streets wandering without valid travel documents?

There was a sidewalk café nearby and people were busy having their lunch. To this, I also wondered how it would have turned out if I bought him a drink while he tells his story, just so I could validate his case.

WTF! Are you nuts? And risk being hypnotized? The longer I stayed in the scene the riskier it gets, I believe.

Having said that, I now wish he is a scam artist. It’s bad karma if he was really in trouble. In that case I really hope he found somebody wiser and more experienced in handling such cases. I think a police officer would gladly help him, not financially but assistance to the right contacts. Or maybe an undercover cop so he’ll nab him the instant he smells a rat. They are trained in interrogations after all; or just someone with the right protection, like weapons and self defense skills, and are not afraid to use them if the situation warrants. Yah, they are the right people to seek. Polis Di Raja Malaysia. Mesra, Cepat dan Betul.

This little birdie

The bird that looked away. This shot is not big enough for the two of us.

I like to think that it is good luck to take a picture beside such a colorful bird. Like the colors of the rainbow it is. Just don't point your finger too close. It bites.

Of Orang and Ape.

A trip to the Zoo is not complete without some monkey business. So here are some pics of one of the orang utans (more like orang zoo) and some cimpanzees hanging out at the zoo, like humans do.

Yes, I'm showing you an orang utan, butt first...




Kinda like grandpa, sittin' around, doin' nothing.