Monday 2 June 2003
Its good to be back.
Its been while since I have been able to add anything to this journal. Things have been a little nutty in the last couple of months and recently it just got a bit out of hand.
The week before last my computer broke down ( the one at home) and I had to replace the hard-disk. The one at the office works but the LAN line does not and to make things worse they have started the re-wiring work on my whole corridor. So now my office looks like a colourful Tarzan's den with multi coloured wires hanging from the ceiling like vines in some deep forest. To top things, my furniture has been moved to the middle of the room to allow the workers to move around. So since I can't use the room to work in anyway, I've decided to take a few days off.
Yesterday, i found myself in Felda serting Hilir – a farming project deep in the heart of the inlands. Its probably the farthest away from a city I have everbeen to in this country. One of my uncle's daughters got married to a guy whose family hails from there. The trip there was long and tiring. Oh, the road was fine with six lane highway almost half of the way and the rest on regular two lane roads but it was the convoy that was tiring. We had to stop at strategic places to ensure that no one took a wrong turn ang ended up somewhere they should not. What should have been a 90 minute trip turned into a three hour plus trip. We left my uncle's house in Bangi at about eleven and we got there at roughly ten to three. The place was so deep in nowhere that there was a guard house manned by the local police at the entry to the village. I guess this was the remnant of the days when we fought the communist guerillas but was later kept because it ensured the village's safety from outside distrubances. The local deputies did not have guns but they sure had long range radios that could bring in the cavalry when needed.
The proceedings went okay but the difference in demeanour was staggeringly different: this uncle's a professor and the father of the groom is a farmer. To make things worse they didn't really understand each other, my uncle speaks English, Malay (with a strong Kelantanese twang) and Thai, while the groom's dad spoke Malay with strong Negeri undercurrents. Of course this meant that they we really speaking and replying to things they hardly understood. The interpreters were there in the form of younger relatives but they had limited success, I think. Then again I could be wrong. The other thing that was note-worthy was the food the served. The had Kampong chicken (free range village chicken) and lean meat – two novelty items in KL but obviously the regular fare in this village. It lacked the luxurious feel of KL cooking but it was tasty.
The were animals around these houses – farm animals kept close to the house. Real rustic.
It was kinda fun but like I said, its good to be back.
Its good to be back.
Its been while since I have been able to add anything to this journal. Things have been a little nutty in the last couple of months and recently it just got a bit out of hand.
The week before last my computer broke down ( the one at home) and I had to replace the hard-disk. The one at the office works but the LAN line does not and to make things worse they have started the re-wiring work on my whole corridor. So now my office looks like a colourful Tarzan's den with multi coloured wires hanging from the ceiling like vines in some deep forest. To top things, my furniture has been moved to the middle of the room to allow the workers to move around. So since I can't use the room to work in anyway, I've decided to take a few days off.
Yesterday, i found myself in Felda serting Hilir – a farming project deep in the heart of the inlands. Its probably the farthest away from a city I have everbeen to in this country. One of my uncle's daughters got married to a guy whose family hails from there. The trip there was long and tiring. Oh, the road was fine with six lane highway almost half of the way and the rest on regular two lane roads but it was the convoy that was tiring. We had to stop at strategic places to ensure that no one took a wrong turn ang ended up somewhere they should not. What should have been a 90 minute trip turned into a three hour plus trip. We left my uncle's house in Bangi at about eleven and we got there at roughly ten to three. The place was so deep in nowhere that there was a guard house manned by the local police at the entry to the village. I guess this was the remnant of the days when we fought the communist guerillas but was later kept because it ensured the village's safety from outside distrubances. The local deputies did not have guns but they sure had long range radios that could bring in the cavalry when needed.
The proceedings went okay but the difference in demeanour was staggeringly different: this uncle's a professor and the father of the groom is a farmer. To make things worse they didn't really understand each other, my uncle speaks English, Malay (with a strong Kelantanese twang) and Thai, while the groom's dad spoke Malay with strong Negeri undercurrents. Of course this meant that they we really speaking and replying to things they hardly understood. The interpreters were there in the form of younger relatives but they had limited success, I think. Then again I could be wrong. The other thing that was note-worthy was the food the served. The had Kampong chicken (free range village chicken) and lean meat – two novelty items in KL but obviously the regular fare in this village. It lacked the luxurious feel of KL cooking but it was tasty.
The were animals around these houses – farm animals kept close to the house. Real rustic.
It was kinda fun but like I said, its good to be back.
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