Category Archives: Uncategorized

The One About The Busy, Enlightening Weekend

I don’t know why, but many, many people chose to have their events or meet ups

during the weekend that just passed.

I nearly didn’t make it through! Woke up this morning and felt

like I had been hit by a two-tonne truck.

Some pictures …

First up was the KLue’s Klue Plus 5 event at MapKL on Friday.

They were pitching projects on green ideas.

I think enterprising, creative minds will want to look out for the next

Klue Plus 5 event. Even if you do not win, it is a great way to form

and lay out your plan as well as practise pitching it. I think many who

do not win the RM2,000 grant to execute their project will still carry on with it.

A little request though, KLue, perhaps we could find out what the ideas were etc,

even if it’s after the event?

Unfortunately I came late and missed out on the pitching, sigh!


Good crowd at MapKL


Malik pops by to check the scene

I know there are a lot of her fans around so this is a pix just cause ;)

The Yap Brothers. Gaya, Mutu, Keunggulan ;) Heh heh.

.

We appreciate our rare but quality catchup moments, Malik & I.

We were at The Royal Oak at Solaris, post Klue Plus 5. I remember

the time I used to go to Royal Oak in Shoreditch, London, so that

brought a smile to my face.

.

One of the best workshops/classes I have ever attended in my whole

life. I never had such roller coaster emotions going through a

workshop before, and it opened my eyes to so many things.

Thank you, Sisters in Islam, sincerely.

.

This was at Julian’s house, when we just had chilled but hilarious

conversations over tea and apple pie :) This door could or could not

have housed the mysterious Man Bat, a ‘friend’ of Jia Wei’s.

.

The perfect end to the weekend was TNG‘s Found in Conversation on

innovation in education, held at Leonardo’s, Bangsar. You can see the panellists

above – Marion de Cruz, TNG chief Jacqueline Ann Surin, Marina Mahathir &

KV Soon – or see more pictures here. It was a nice and cosy event, with an

interesting, varied crowd. We had teachers, educationists and other members of

the public who were eager to hear the panellists out and give their two sen

about education. While the general tone was sombre & worried (Everyone

was understandably concerned about the current system, saying kids are coming

out uncreative, without passion, with no mastery of languages etc) there

were several positive sparks. People spoke about passionate teachers in the past

or those who, like Marion, are still out to make a difference; there were

interesting cases of innovation cited (personally though I’d have loved to hear more

of these); and it was good to know that we now have an education watch dog in

the form of Parent Action Group for Education (Page).  I have known Page’s

Datin Azimah for quite a while, courtesy of my years as the education beat

writer for the NST, and she is the kind of formidable lady you want to have on

your side. I was so happy that she came!

On that note, I do really think people should make some time to attend the next

FIC on Aug 8, same place. There will be 8TV’s chief executive officer Ahmad

Izham Omar, independent singer-songwriter Azmyl Yunor, and actor-director

Joanna Bessey. It will be moderated by the wonderfully talented Shanon Shah

himself. You may say I am biased about all this, but I’d say I just simply like

quality & ace events, attended by quality & ace people.

.

.

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By the way, it would be during FIC that someone asked me

something that kind of took me by surprise. I guess

nobody ever asked it that way before.

“You mean you had a chance to get out of Malaysia but

you didn’t? Why?” this guy asked me. We had been

chatting about our careers & I had told him that I’d

come back two years ago from London after my masters.

After he asked that question, I paused for quite a bit.

“But …. I never want to ‘get out’,” I told him slowly.

“It’s never crossed my mind. Even if I travel, even if I

do live overseas in the future, I will always be in.

I will always want in.”

And that was that.

He smiled, and then said “That is such a journalist thing to say.”

.

.

Did you like that fellow journos? :)

I guess that’s a lil Salut! for all the journalists out there who continue to

stay, and who try, wherever they are, and whatever organisation

they work with.

xo

The One On About Happiness & Remembering

And because I’d rather deal on positive things, here is this wonderful

talk from this year’s TED conference, which I think perhaps gives us

a clue as to why we feel certain short holidays are better than others, or

how certain breakups are more painful than others.

I know that I paused for thought after watching it a bit, mainly because I think

it gave me insight as to why when I talk about a certain ex of mine, the anger

still reverberates within me. The memory of it is still very fresh, still very raw,

and will perhaps always remain that way.

I also particularly liked it when he cited that study showing that people with

an income of $60,000 and above did not record higher levels of happiness,

but that the lack of definitely guaranteed you misery. How fascinating is that.

.
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And to end with a laugh, here is something I spent hours on just last night when

I couldn’t sleep. I did what I sometimes do when I feel the need to laugh.

I look out for … Russell Peters clips!

He is hands down, my favourite stand-up comedian … dare I say it … EVER!

Partly because he does the culture and race and family thing so bloody well.

I love him. And all cultures get him! <3


.

.
If you are new to him, it is ABSOLUTELY your responsibility as a human being

who likes to laugh to watch this, this and this. Essential Russell Peters.

You’re welcome!

x

The Ongoing Jho Low Saga

For my little but lovely group of friends who read my usual insignificant

ramblings here (and I thank you for it) perdóneme, this is one of those more er ..

‘heavier’ ones which has a little connection with my job as a journo.

This is one for those who keep coming back for that Malaysian millionaire

who apparently, can’t keep out of the spotlight.

.

It is the month of July.

Am sure you have read all the latest, necessary reading about Taek Jho Low,

also known as Joe Low, who has been keeping in very rich & blonde company.

Am sure you have seen this all out and about from

- http://www.fadedyouthblog.com/197536/paris-hilton-strikes-a-pose-for-malaysian-millionaire

- http://rockybru.com.my/2010/07/paris-hiltons-majestic-masterpiece.html

and so on.

Newcomers to the Jho Low saga would only now be discovering things that have

been somewhat public knowledge here &  in grand city of New York last year.

November, to be exact.

I wrote about him last year, and if you still are a bit lost as to how it all

started, perhaps you could begin with that.

.

As you would probably be reading other recent updates in the blogosphere like:

Who Is This Young Millionaire, Taek Jho Low?

Our ‘favourite’ millionaire cavorts with Paris and

Low Taek Jho, Paris Hilton, Rosmah & RM 11 billion ,

I will not repeat what it being said in these blogs, twitterverse etc.

I’m going to assume you know lah what has been said, reported on thenutgraph,

and that I have kind of spent many hours lah researching all this.

.

.

And going through all of it these past few months, I think I could say this:

  • It would be very easy to assume Jho Low is using public money to party with Paris Hilton. It is not easy in the slightest to prove that this is true.
  • It would be very easy to assume that Paris Hilton is only hanging out with him for the money. It is not easy to imagine that, like his Middle Eastern friends, she could just genuinely like hanging out with him? You know, cause er .. he is rich? He could be … hilarious, or … er nice, for all we know?
  • It would be very easy to say Jho Low is ‘fat’, or ‘tubby’, and this and that. It is not easy to find actual, solid, reasons to validate why we are criticising him, to justify why we are actually calling him such names. Besides, you got no bigger-size friends meh yang kau adore? Suddenly the argument is about fat people is it? Do people realise that when you resort to ad hominem attacks (Your mother bodoh, your muka hodoh), you effectively sully & blotch painfully researched info?
  • It would be very easy to say because Jho Low knows/interacts/is close to Rosmah, it automatically makes him … suspicious or dodgy. It is not easy for us to explain how that we can even ascertain/explain that reasonably. In public. On the record. If he is friends with her son, is that … bad, or illegal, or dodgy, in any way?

.

.

And oklah while I’m at it … I guess I’ll also put it in there that it is also very easy

to present somebody’s trails and links as your own as if you came up with it, and

not so easy to spend hours & hours destroying your eyes in front of the computer,

making those connections. Tidak apa, you know, I know lah Misters. Minus

respect points lor.

.

Anyway, I am not writing a In Defence of Jho Low piece.

I guess this is more about journalism versus gossip/rumour.

.

.

BUT …

Despite all the things I have pointed out above,

we can say these things for sure:

1- We already know he definitely is well connected to the upper echelons.

2- We know, from all sources, everywhere, that he really. likes. hanging.

out. with. stars. And drinking champagne. And living the high life.

3- We also know for a certainty that he has real influence and power. He makes

money from that.

.

A friend and I were laughing one day when we saw this

http://forum.lowyat.net/topic/1221007/+40 ,

where someone spoke quite emotionally in defence of JL.

More specifically, we laughed out loud when we read “i sense Joe Low in ACTION! icon_rolleyes.gif“

implying of course, that the man was defending himself anonymously.

The thing is that:

For months and months and months, the activities of Low have been a hot topic

among so many circles, whether business folks, diplomats or politicians.

This is fact.

Because Klang Valley is very small and incestuous (and Klang Valley-ites know

this), there is only one or two degrees of separation between many of us and

the famous Mr Low.

I can also say this as a matter of fact because I am in the same generation as him,

and there are many people out there who personally know/knew him, or his friends.

Even people from London tell me things about him, so it is not just here that he is

being talked about.

There is one thing that is constant. The tone is always … one that is unimpressed.

Most of it … basically kind of sneering.

.

Bear with me here. What I am saying is that people don’t necessarily hate or

resent rich people.

I am quite sure when people think of Tony Fernandes or the YTL family [correction:

Sorry, I was thinking of the Low Yat Family - sleepy mistake] etc they

don’t immediately sneer at their wealth. There is always a certain amount of respect

because we can distinguish people who built things up thru very hard work &

took many, many years to do so.

Perhaps the reasons why JL is written & talked about in such .. dare I say it ..

disgusted tones is because:

1. He is very young to be so rich & powerful.

2. He has done so primarily through the who-you-know route.

3. He splashes money even more outrageously than superstars.

Bukan Klang Valley superstars okay, Hollywood superstars.

4. And that he seems to want you to know it.

Let’s face it – this is not exactly shunning exposure a la Ananda Krishnan.

.

However. Until someone proves any of this is actually wrong, actually dodgy,

or actually illegal, who is to say he has no right to do so? Yes, in this world nowadays,

many people make business deals and they make commissions from it.

They link people & profit.

.

.

I shall end with this however. You know all the rather sneering tones and all

the activities and deals that people talk about when it comes to Jho Low?

People around him must be talking, giving the information.

People close to him, his entourage, perhaps those who partied with him in NY,

or who followed him to South Africa or France?

Which makes me wonder … and this is pure conjecture on my part …

but how do his friends / buddies /acquaintances / the entourage behave in

front of him, and what do they say … behind him?

.

The One On Notes On Travelling (1)

Just a little something we got from Singgahsana, Kuching.

The Rainforest post will be coming up soon, but for now …

something to stir your travel senses.

Makes you just want to take off again, unplanned, isn’t it?

However these days, the $ is king.

As I have recently learned, putting aside $ for travels in advance renders you

effectively … broke now. Freelancing is perfect for scheduling flexibility but a pain

in the uknowwhere for upfront & necessary moolah.

Also, not being single anymore, while great, means quite something else

while travelling (as a couple). You kind of are unable to bunk on friends’ sofas

etc here, there & everywhere. So do that kind of travelling while you are

all free and easy. Couch surfing is fun.

Ah, pros & cons, bumblebees. Pros and cons.

xo

The One With Laksa At ‘The Chiselled Rock’

Every time we head back to Batu Pahat, Johor,

my family looks forward to the food.

But food takes on another dimension in BP.

It is also part of my father’s memories of his youth,

and it makes us feel closer to that part of our family.

This evening, we went for Laksa. Just 10 minutes away

from our family home.

While my mother’s side were more ‘urban’ Penang townfolks and my

maternal grandmother involved in tailoring, dad’s side has dealt with

trades ranging from small tracts of coconut plantations and oil palm,

to house rentals and animal farming.

I remember when I was little I would play with my cousins

in the coconut sheds at the back of my grandparent’s house in

Bagan (a district in BP), and running in the little trails between

its terracotta-coloured soil and the small river by the house.

In the very same area, my dad used to catch fish, crabs and try to

avoid snakes.

I love the idea that we played in the same vicinity, but during different

spans of time.

.

.

Before his generation, dad says, the family was uneducated but pretty

determined business folks.

His grandmother, who he never tires of telling me about, was the

matriarch of the family, the most thrifty

and money-savvy. She would be the one to acquire our relative family wealth

back in those days, eventually owning land and some little businesses.

However, dad says, she always looked at you funny if you took put

more rice on your plate than necessary.

.

I am somewhere between a third and fourth generation Malaysian (dad + mom).

Great grandmother had been born in China, essentially a ‘slave’, or

someone sold as a servant girl for another family.

But somehow, she managed to come here, bring up her own huge family,

and with hard work & penny pinching, set them up comfortably through present day.

My father speaks about her with hush, admiring tones.

I love hearing about my great grandmother .

Just now, eating laksa at a small stall on Jalan Peng Kai,

my dad points out the man dishing out bowl after bowl

of laksa like he was in a speed competition.

His family, like many Batu Pahat natives, sent their children

overseas on the sweat of these small trades.

This man, dad reminds me, sent his children overseas

with these bowls of laksa.

I guess I’m very much like dad – we really admire the ethos of hard work.

Pure busting your balls, sweating your heart out working because

you know no other way.

I have been born lucky, and do not need to work as my

great grandmother did, but I certainly hope to remember

this ethos, this era’s spirit, and keep it in mind throughout

my life.

I also frequently try to remind myself not to complain about work,

and to please please please stop it if I do! Susah though, everyone does it.

I am blessed to have it, and enjoy what I do.

Dad tells me how he used to come to

eat at this laksa stall about three decades ago or so.

It is pretty good laksa. Tasty, but not too cloyingly heavy & over the top.

The kind that leaves you satisfied and not nauseously guilty.

A bowl is RM3.50 (big).

Dad says this stall probably sells hundreds of bowls a day.

Looking at how the man was dishing them out,

I did not doubt this.

.

In many parts of Batu Pahat you still feel a sense of the old

town back then. The streets are still so wide, the shops

still small & buzzing. I can almost imagine my father as a young boy

buying cendol from the stall we love.

Or coming to the famous hawker centre by the Batu Pahat river

at Jln Shahbandar, asking for a bowl of fishball noodle soup

served by the same family through the generations.

I love it that every time I come back I ask my father more and more

questions, and I take more and more pictures.

I want to make sure that I keep these in the collective family memory,

and I guess I feel a certain responsibility because I am the

journalist in the family. I record so many other people’s histories

and I have yet to do my own.

I guess this is what growing older does to you.

Or perhaps I am just super nostalgic that way.

xo


The One Where I Remember Making Presents

Random notes before I cerita about something that made me sigh this evening.

.

1. How do you decide who to delete from your Facebook list? Even if you

were ‘friends’ before but haven’t spoken in 10 years, do you still want them

privy to things in your life? Who are just contacts and who are friendlier contacts

you don’t mind sharing some things with? I grapple with this every month,

and end up putting more & more people in ‘Limited Profiles’ and so on.

And then eventually, I delete them.

Who do you actually not know but because

of certain friends, or certain recent introductions, have added them out of

politeness? And when do you remove them? How do you handle this?

How about the ones you want to stab in the head don’t like anymore?

I’m still learning.

.

2. I think from now on, I’ll be travelling more for love. For people that mean

something to me. Destinations may be less … about what I want.

It’d be to be with people I need to be with.

Times are a-changing, but that could be a good thing. :)

But you know what, this year sure is expensive. I am near drowning and need

to strike lottery to work harder.

.

3.   Dear Government,

Perhaps if you would be more transparent about how you manage your

finances and expenditure, just as you are so detailed and clear over

how we need to reduce subsidies etcetera, perhaps you wouldn’t be getting

so much hatemail over increases just like the fuel increase that took place

a few hours ago.

Hey, we know math, we get it. Don’t roll your eyes like we don’t

get the subsidy argument etc. It’s just that when we know our millions are flying

around everywhere, without a word, without a trace, you can’t expect

us to go ‘Oh well, they do need it lah. Kesian diaorang. Oklah I will tighten my

purse strings especially for yoOOoo <3 <3 <3 …’

PS-  Don’t you dare point the finger at Idris Jala & say ‘HeDaOneWhoSayWanAh!’

and try to make us hate on him! It won’t work!

Bleh to you, Sincerely,

An Idris Jala Fan.

.

4. Can’t say it enough. I love Glee. It makes me so happy. People who just don’t

enjoy Glee probably won’t get along with me or something cause it means they

don’t have joy in their hearts get it musically or whatever. Fine, less people

to rebut the mic with me during karaoke.

.

.

And on to the title subject.

I was cleaning my room just now, when I found certain presents that

brought a sigh and smile to my face. As I have mentioned previously,

I used to frequent Gibraltar quite a lot because my ex was from there and

I had many friends from the Rock. A really good friend of mine, Chris,

who is very artistic, used to draw and make things all the time. On

my 20th birthday, he would give me something that took my breath away.

This huge drawing … in colour pencil, no less. After so long, I still look

at this present with deep gratitude and admiration. Chris is also the one who first

introduced me to Gibraltar, before I got together with my first love there.

For that, I will always be thankful.


Yes, I am known to many friends as Kay overseas. Lebih senang.

.

I used to make similar drawings, collages and even oil paintings for friends.

(The last was for lovers VERY SPECIAL FRIENDS THOUGH! Oil paints are expensive!)

It brought me joy, it saved me money, and I knew that it was as special to them

as it was for me. How I wish I still had the time to do that now, but work just

sucks balls remains all important.

And near this drawing, which I keep close in my room, is a tinier piece of paper

I also hold dear. It is also from Gibraltar. Chris’ younger brother Patrick was just

about 7 or so when he drew this for me. He was such a cutie & we played

together quite a bit during those summers.

I remember when Chris’ mom used to make us frittatas and other delicious

fare. I also bonded with his cousins, met his grandparents. I remember

Chris showing me the delightful art of driving in Gib (tiny ass roads, mad skills)

and parking (never seen such precision in my life), and I remember when we used to

hang out at all the beaches and stare at the shooting stars. Thankfully

I was a maniac with the camera in those days, and I have pictures of them all, everything.


Patrick is probably all grown up and a hot stud in Gib now … but I will always

remember him as that little boy who took the trouble to make me this present.

Just to show you, boys and girls, that presents don’t need to cost very much

at all.

I have fallen in deep, great love, with presents that were from the heart.

.

I’m a hoarder, yes.

But certain things … I will never, ever throw away.

.

Oh, psst. The password (case sensitive) for the post below, is the word of the day on my facebook

status.

If by some folly we aren’t friends yet or you aren’t on FB and would like

to read the post, email me at im@laych.com. Don’t worry, I’m just trying to

ward off some powers-that-be.

Happy Friday folks

xo

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The One About Tuak


Oh you magic potion you.

Rendering my friend unconscious.

Making all other drinks seem dull and clinical.

Somehow turning a field of odious mud into a magnetic, riotous dance floor.

Came back to the House, and as everyone else  collapsed retired one by one,

I somehow found myself watching the game wide-eyed with other guests

from the lodge and with Laurence, our resident caretaker, transportation chief,

& everything-can-do man, preparing more tuak for me.

“Here you go smiley,” he says.

.

I can’t remember now what I was dreaming about, but I woke up

laughing. Not laughing laughing, but a prolonged deep giggle.

One of those giggles that extends from the hollow throat, no lip

movement necessary, the ones that continued as I tip-toed from

dreamland into reality.

And there I was, in Borneo, giggling myself awake.

My eyes opened.

And I smiled a great big smile.

The One About The Village House


We’re all so relaxed. After all the initial scrambling to finish everything and then get

here. Had some drama with scrambling to deal with cancellations, but I left that

ginormous headache behind. Kesimpulannye: Research on everything and everyone must

be done first. Always.

.

But you know what, it was worth it. It’s me, Alia, Farrah, Julian & some other nice

friendly people at the Village House (The Singgahsana folks’ Santubong lodge).

I take no credit for finding this place.

But it’s awesome. To think I was going to cancel and not come.


I finally have some quiet time to read.

It’s good to relax before the madness later.

xo