Wiping off the dust

Respect is surely due to those who conscientiously keep their blogs going. Tough work! Or maybe I am just lazy. Which is probably (definitely) closer to the truth.

I have recently found myself in the region of East Malaysia. The Borneo side, the wilder side, the side that's like your beautifully exotic, barely related cousin twice removed on your father's side. Because that's what Sabah (and Sarawak) is, really - the distant relative of us Peninsularians, who, unlike the sister who has no choice but to let you crash as long as you want, only gives you 90 days before your bags hit the curb. Or in this case, sea.

I am absolutely enamoured with Sabah though. The city Kota Kinabalu is a box of assorted chocolates which include the ones filled with alcohol. Everything here is delightful; the people, the food, and man, the sky. The sky!

On the set of Gojira Returns

Right outside the Arkitrek office/my temporary accommodation are the steps leading up to Signal Hill which is where the sunset above was taken. Nothing fancy, just 250m up the forest that connects to a 2 lane road where there is also a nice observatory deck by the side. Mostly tourists would take this path and this morning I had the wonderful luck of interacting with one such. 

She was in pink shorts and matching platformy type slippers. Her choice of accessories were a floppy hat and a petite backpack, the kind that a toy poodle would not look out of place in. The ensemble was completed with a large DSLR with super zoom lens. This camera undoubtably serves its functions well as a photo taking device as well as a bicep builder. But alas, cameras are completely useless bricks if you can't take a #selfie duh.

Madam Tourist was faced with two options: the Hotel Makcik watering the plants outside or Hangover Face struggling to lock unlock the pesky office gate. Hotel Makcik responded to her shout "HI!" by smiling brightly, albeit inanely, back at her, so she shouted "HI!" in my specific direction to which I could not avoid.

Here I'm going to admit that I was a bit of a bastard. I could understand perfectly well what she was saying in Cantonese (my guess is that she was from Hong Kong) but guess what I PRETENDED NOT TO UNDERSTAND WHAT SHE WAS SAYING. I may or may not have even put on a European accent.

Anyway I spent the next 15 minutes taking pictures of 1. her posing in front of the info board 1.a) her posing in front of the info board close up 1.b) her posing in front of the info board full body 2. her at the steps sitting 2.a) her at the steps sitting full body, and so on etc. At one point we did a few variations of 9.d) her standing on the steps full body with a huge hanging leaf she pulled close to her face.

I guess there are worser ways to start a Labor Day morning. 

Day 2: #365deeds

Yesterday started off with late afternoon Japanese lunch at Jyu Raku in SS15 Subang.

It was my first meal of 2012 to set the tone of many more good meals to come this year.

On the way to have coffee after that, I was suddenly struck by the obscene decadence (and monetary cost) of my lunch so I bought a loaf of bread plus a carton of juice and gave it to one of the homeless in Bangsar. That was good deed #1 of 2012.

Today I'm not sure if what I'd done can be considered a good deed. Initially I intended to clean my mum's kitchen and organize her baking things. But because of a late start to the day lazing in bed watching a bunch of models try to sing and shoot a music video, I decided to keep the plan for another day. Instead, I came to my little shop and this is what happened.

A lady came in looking for a job. She looked about 40, very chatty and was holding a colourful notebook. I figured something might be a little dodge about her because she was going on and on like a steam train about how she needed a job now and would like to make as much money as possible. The more she talked, the more she revealed.

Turns out, Katy has never worked before because of her mental illness. She tells me that she lives with her dad, was a student in the U.S when she was 24 but has been under psychiatric care since. I asked her, why do you want to work now? Her reply, "My bank account is empty lor!"

At 52 - her true age kinda shocked me a little; she didn't look it at all - she has been asking around at restaurants and small shops but no one would hire her on account of her illness (she calls herself a psychic patient. I don't know if that's even the right term?). So I poured her a cup of tea and told her to leave her name and number.

Besides her name, I.C number, date and time, she also wrote 3 different numbers down: her house number which her dad cancelled because she'd been faxing out a lot of things, but she left it anyway, her dad's cell number and her own number.

I'd like to say that I hired her on the spot, but I can't because I didn't and I didn't because I couldn't. I will have to speak to my "partners" i.e. mum and dad first but I am pretty sure I can convince them that taking Katy on as a part timer could be a good thing. After all, we are looking for someone so...why not right?

What do you think?

Let's begin.

It's the last day of the year, also known as the day where everyone will post so called reflective tweets and Facebook updates on how the past 365 days have been for them. It's good to see that the majority have managed to rise above the small and big bumps life dished out and man, were there some pretty massive bumps for some.

I took a look at this picture again dated 20th December 2010 of my bedroom wall in the house I used to share with Lynda. I'd just painted the wall with chalkboard paint and was busy that week filling it up with silly drawings of things.

I remember stumbling upon it sometime mid this year while I was sifting through iPhoto and it was like being hit with a blast of Carebear rainbow power. This photo never fails to remind me that we are but limited to our own self imposed perceptions. You never really think of buying a house because you're not earning that kind of money yet. Backpacking around Europe for a couple of months is something only other people do. You entertain the idea of starting your own restaurant but it's just a little fantasy you escape to when work sucks.

Nothing is impossible. Think of buying that house and you will earn that kind of money. Start planning for Europe and pretty soon you'll have your route and plane tickets in hand. Research on starting a restaurant and before you know it, you're already sourcing out for equipment and furniture.

2011 has taught me like never before that previous experiences are but an excuse for what you think you cannot do. Challenge yourself and push the walls of your comfort zone and you'll find that you can be a faster, smarter, richer, better... whatever you want to be.

Next year, which is only 4 hours away, my goal is to challenge myself to 365 days of good deeds. I believe that if I condition myself to do something helpful everyday, soon it will come as second nature to help.

Thank you for the precious moments, incredible people, invaluable lessons and tattooed memories, Miss 2011. I did it this year and I will do it better in 2012. #swag :)

For last year's words belong to last year's language

And next year's words await another voice.

And to make an end is to make a beginning.

~T.S. Eliot, "Little Gidding"

Hola Arequipa

After the last post, I managed to get the package out of customs without shedding any tears (though I was close to!) or physically hurting anybody. That night itself I left it with the very nice people at Cirque Hostal in Lima and scrammed my way down here to Arequipa. Along the way there was

1. a lot of partying

2. sad goodbyes

3. getting lost in the second deepest canyon in the world for a night

4. a trippy festival down south

5. strange strange dreams

6. an unbelievable first meeting with a fellow Malaysian who shares so much in common, friends included, all the way here in South America

7. a lot of partying

More on all of that later but for now, it's been a month since I've left Huanchaco and am now settled in this lovely city of Arequipa. For the next 4 weeks I will be teaching English at the Flora Tristan community school thanks to Travelers Not Tourist. Though it has only been 3 days so far, I am truly enjoying everything; the city, its people, the other volunteers, and most of all, teaching at the school.

Check this out: as a reward for being a good student in class today, I gave my 11 year old student Daniel 10 minutes to use my camera and here are the amazing results:

Somehow these pictures seem to be more of a reward for me.

Package update

In a local tabloid today, I read about a 50 year old foreigner who was found murdered in his hotel room in the district of Callao, just outside Lima. And there I was, in Callao, for the 3rd time walking around with about USD$400 tucked into my bra.

Yes I like living on the precipice of life but this was certainly not my idea of fun. I was back in the area once again at the customs office hoping to sort out the package. And unfortunately for me, I still have to go back in the morning.

Here's why. Today was yet another day dealing with Peruvian work ethics which can be summed up in 1 word: slow. Of course I'm generalizing here and this observation is probably influenced by my frustration, but I make no apologies for it. I waited for Luiz (the agent who's helping me with the papers) in the morning while his 2 "friends" tried asking for my number/address/email/hostel. Then I waited some more for the customs people to finish their lunchtime. Then I waited even more for Luiz outside the DHL headquarters for 45 minutes. The HQ by the way is situated in an industrial area and I must've looked the part of the mad gringa, standing outside in the cold, muttering "fucking sonovabitch I've had enough". By the time we got to the customs office (again), it was almost 3pm. And guess what time the customs office closes? Yup.

So to cut the long-boring-getting-ridiculous story short, I will be back at customs again in 7 hours, with USD$400 tucked in my bra, hopefully for the last time. But it's a fact that there's almost always a silver lining in every dark, pregnant cloud, and here's mine:

To translate briefly, after reviewing my case/sob story, DHL is giving me a special and exceptional 30% discount on the charges, which is something they don't commonly do. I am truly thankful for this and take back what I said in my earlier post about DHL being unhelpful.

Wish me luck for tomorrow...

The most frustrating day ever after the time when I was 6 and couldn't write Z which kept turning out to look like a 5 even after 2 hours of trying

A good chunk of the past 24 hours have been extremely trying. There was even a point where I felt tears pricking my eyes and tried to hide it by pretending to yawn. Then I realised that it was only my eyes' natural reaction to my dry contact lenses and that I really needed to yawn because I was out late last night.

If you had read some of the previous entries on this here blog, you might've stumbled across a post featuring the dilapidated state of the skate ramp I volunteer at in Huanchaco. Shortly after writing about it, the rollerblade hearted guys at Wheel Love put together a collection of skate items for the kids and sent the package on its way halfway across the world.

So it's been a long while and the package has yet to arrive at it's destination because it's been stuck at customs for more than a month now. Note to anyone who's intending to send stuff to a different country: make sure you check what is deemed illegal in destination country before sending it. We made that mistake and are only finding out now that in Peru, secondhand clothes are illegal, no matter for what purpose. And to make things worse, the storage bill for keeping the package for so long has amounted up to USD$470.

The colossal sum is partly my fault because I couldn't/didn't get to Lima earlier where the only customs office in the country is, 800km away from Huanchaco. And today I finally learn what it's like to be a foreigner in someone else's country.

I went to the Centro Comercial where customs is located a few days ago and was immediately bombarded by offers to help; one guy even offered to get me a taxi back into the city even though I just got out of one... And because I was pretty much clueless, like a genteel bovine I was ushered to an office by one guy who claimed to work in customs. He introduced me to Luiz who listened to my situation, and then told me that he will help me get everything done within a day, all I needed to do was make a copy of my passport, pay for storage and sign right here.

Now I speak Spanish as well as I can rap, but I know the word 'firma'. Plus I also know about real life and such things. How many princesses have lost everything to their evil uncles and aunts after the death of their royal parents because in their grief and distraught, they - wait for it - "signed right here"? Obviously I wasn't going to fall into the same trap.

That was 2 days ago. Today, I asked a good Peruvian friend who's also in Lima at this moment (Bruno, bless your soul in this life and the next 3 ones) to come with me to the customs office. Which was a good thing he did because turns out, these guys who I thought were working in customs are not, in fact, working in customs but are agents instead.

Surprise surprise. Coming from Malaysia, you'd think that I'd have guessed this sooner. And I should've. But when you're in a country where the language is not your own, it can get quite flustering though this is hardly an excuse to become stupid. Lucky for me again, I had Bruno and he explained to me my options: 1. do it under the counter(ish) with this agent who will sort out all the papers for me for a small fee, which is not entirely illegal anyway, OR 2. we do it ourselves, which would mean spending hours going on a self discovery tour of the customs department.

Coming from Malaysia, I think you would know which I picked. If you don't, well you can keep guessing. But even with the choice I made, it wasn't just a matter of sitting and shaking my right leg. I spent something like 5 hours and 30 soles in taxis and combis going from one place to another, getting the right stamps, double checking with DHL who had like different offices NOT within walking distance of each other, to make sure we were not being scammed, etc. By the way, DHL is not the most helpful of courier companies in my newfound personal experience. At least not here in Peru anyway.

This Monday, I will still have to go back to the customs office to sort out the final bits and of course, to make the painful payment. I would like to sincerely thank everyone who responded to my tweet for help and chipped in cash to help with the bill. Every bit of amount helped and I truly hope to return the favour one day. Muchisimas gracias.

Here are some pictures from a few weeks ago when we cleaned and painted the skate ramp with some help from the kids :)

Laughter and tears are both responses to frustration and exhaustion. I myself prefer to laugh, since there is less cleaning up to do later. - Kurt Vonnegut

5 Discoveries in 1 Week

1. Altitude sickness can get real bad

We were in the mountain town of Huaraz for a few days and despite sleeping for 6 hours after arriving plus loading up on mate de coco tea, Joachim still got ill that night at 3 a.m.

While he was feeling like death, I googled more info on how altitude can affect someone and found this on www.altitude.org:

I decided against reading it out because I didn’t want to panic him but I made the mistake of showing it to Mariano who obviously read it out. I suppose in retrospect, that was a good move because people deserve to know if they are in danger of death, hey? Lucky for Joachim and us, he survived the night.

2. If Nat Geo or History Channel ever did a piece on the Spanish conquistador Francisco Pizarro, Dominic Casey would definitely win the lead role.

Dom was amazing when we got to Huaraz. Based on his 1 week knowledge of the town and its surroundings, he showed us around, took us bouldering and pretty much played the role of free tour guide. Because of that, we excuse the beard.

3. The strangest wtf toys come from China

We found this in the market in Huaraz. Mattel will never approve.

4. Guinea pigs look better as pets

Cuy, as they are called, are commonly eaten in the Andes and is, in fact, very good meat I’ve been told. Lean, nutritious and tender, there are many ways of preparing this lovable rodent.

5. When you think you can’t anymore, you always can… just a bit more

On our last day in Huaraz, we woke up at 5.30 a.m. to do a 6 hour trek (up and back) to Llaganuco lake 69, 4800 m above sea level. 1 nosebleed, a near exploding head, and what felt like ears that were trying to turn themselves inside out, I finally reached the peak ahead of everyone else…

Not. I was the last make it actually. But still, I am so glad that I did not turn back and it was definitely worth every bit of pain and blister because the lake, as my posh English friend Melissa would say, "was splendid."

Check out more pictures of the breathtaking region we were in. And to answer you disbelievers, Photoshop was not involved in this heart pumping affair.

So now, here we are in Lima, taking a few days to chill before Mel flies back to London on Wednesday and the rest of us continue on traveling. I love this city.

Pictures taken by Mariano when he's not busy making fridge poetry with Spanish magnets and a standard glass of wine.

To get to Llanganuco, you can take a taxi for 100 soles to the national park (entrance fee 5 soles) and back to Huaraz. Or you could go with a tour van which is what we did and cost us 40 soles each. No guide or maps needed; just water, chocolate and persistance.