Hanoi 2007: Enter The Dragon

One of the excursions that I failed to participate the last time round was a trip to Ha Long Bay, which is a natural wonder of limestone islands set in a narrow bay in the Gulf of Tonkin, about 170km from Hanoi. So this time round I made sure we found some time to visit this UNESCO World Heritage site.

We booked ourselves on a one-day trip to the bay via our hotel, and early the next morning, we were herded into a large van with about ten other tourists from other hotels. The journey took about 3 1/2 hours through the northern countryside which afforded us some really beautiful vistas of padi fields, pineapple stands and duck farms.

From one crammed space to another: upon arrival at the jetty, the guide shepherded us through a narrow and precarious route along wooden planks, concrete steps, and boat alleyways to our very own junk which would ferry us to the bay area.


Slowly but surely, the captain manouvered the junk deftly through the traffic jam of various boats, yachts and junks, and before long, we were sitting on the sundeck enjoying the cool spring breeze as the boat lazily made its way around the rocky mounds and limestone islands.

Ha Long Bay literally means Bay Of Descending Dragon. According to local legends, the Gods sent a family of dragons down to help the locals fend off the Chinese invaders. As these heavenly creatures descended, they spat out jewels and jade which turned into the limestone islets dotting the bay, creating a barrier against the invaders. After having succesfully defended the land, the dragons settled in the bay and today it is believed that their descendants reside in the murky depths of the bay in the form of the mythical creature, tarasque.

The bay is also home to many fishermen and thier families who work and live in floating villages. We were brought to a fishery where sea creatures of every kind were either caught or reared. It is said that there are over 200 species of fish and 450 molluscs living in the bay, prompting the Vietnamese government and UNESCO to set up a joint effort to conserve this natural and rich marine habitat for generations to come.

There were also a number of locals selling various kinds of fruits in small sampans in the fishery where we had lunch. Unfortunately they were more more than willing to cheat us poor tourists as some offered to sell us a handful of rambutans (no more than ten) for US$5!

Later, we stopped by one of the islands where we had to climb a rather steep flight of stone steps to enter an extensive network of limestone caves that was, oddly enough, lit with multicoloured lights, creating a rather creepy "Phantom of The Opera" atmosphere. The stalactites and stalagmites formed very unique and sometimes funny shapes, including one mound which was very imaginatively named Penis Rock!

In any case, our brief foray into mountain climbing was worth the huffing and puffing for at the very top, we were treated to a breathtaking view of the island as well as the entire bay.

Before we knew it, it was time to set sail for home. As the evening sun peppered the dark blue waters with tiny flecks of golden light, the silhouette of the junks floating aimlessly into the horizon reminded me of the scene where our very own Michelle Yeoh famously assisted (read: seduced) James Bond on a not so leisurely cruise down these waters during one of their escapades in 'Tomorrow Never Dies". Vodka martini, anyone?

Hanoi 2007: Church Street

I recently went on a five day tour of Hanoi with a few good buddies of mine last month. As this was my second trip to the city in six months, I was initially a bit weary, fearing that it might get a bit boring to revisit the same sights again. Boy, was I ever wrong.

Firstly, this time, F had the good sense to arrange our trip in lovely spring weather (20ºC all day long) which meant we could walk the whole day sightseeing and not break a sweat - perfect for a profuse sweathog like me.

Secondly because I was the only one who been to Hanoi, the gang made me plan the itinerary. This meant I could decide to go to places I had missed the last time around and revisit the sights I loved previously.

And thirdly, the company was great. Four of us close buddies, having travelled together previously, knew each other's characters and idiosyncracies well enough to not step on each others' toes (literally!).

We stayed in Church Hotel this time around, a charming 3-star boutique hotel named after the St. Joseph's Cathedral which was situated in a small square just 200m down the road. The staff were very friendly and ever willing to help us, be it with directions to various sights, arrangements for taxis and day tours and even recommendations on the best places to eat and what to avoid.

St. Joseph's Cathedral (Na Tho Lon) offered us a glimpse into the bygone era of French Colonialism. It was built in 1886 during the earliest days of colonial rule, after the Nguyen King officially handed Hanoi over to the French.

The cathedral stands over the ruins of the demolished Bao Thien pagoda and is built in European Neo-Gothic style not unlike Paris' Notre Dame.

Speckles of light still dance through stained glass work, reported to be original 19th century masterpieces of French artists and glass makers, leaving a kaleidoscope of color on the towers, which stretch toward the sky.

The church holds mass twice daily for the scores of Vietnamese Catholics who throng the square every morning and evening as the church bell tolls signalling the beginning of service.

Call it luck, call it good timing. We found ourselves in Catholic Hanoi, in the middle of Easter Weekend with all the celebration and pomp that it entailed. The church was gaily decorated and lit (at night) and was a place for many a photo-op for the thousands of tourists, yours truly included.

The Case for Sanjaya

Up till now, American Idol 2007 has been rather lacklusture, both in terms of the quality of the contestants as well as the level of hype and buzz generated. There seems to be a lack of , to quote Randy Jackson, the 'wow' factor in most of the singers and their performances. Even viewership has suffered, dropping about 10% from last year's peak.

One has to wonder whatever happened to the Carries, the Bos and even the Taylors this time round. Has the proverbial well dried up after six consecutive years of relentless mining of talents? Surely in a country of 300 million, there must be more than just a handful of undiscovered budding Fantasias and Kelly Clarksons, just waiting to be honed and shined up in the spotlight of national TV?

Well, actually there is. Meet the recently ousted Sanjaya Malakar. He of the exotic Indian-Italian American heritage. The one who brought to the world the 'Ponyhawk' and that 100 megawatt smile brandishing his perfect white teeth that would make his orthodontist proud. Ok, sure, he can't sing as good as Melinda or thrill us like Jordin nor has he an unique talent like beatboxing Blake . What he has, in truckloads, is quite frankly, the 'wow' factor. Why do I say this?

Consider these evidence:

1) His name is the #1 search item in Google and Yahoo - garnering more hits than all of the other Top 12 contestants combined.

2) More people know of him than say, La Kisha, who as you may remember, wowed everybody with her rendition of the Jennifer Holliday classic "And I'm Telling You I'm Not Going" way back in the semifinal round. She has bucketloads of talent, but is as dull as a dishrag.

3) Every report, every editorial, every critique of the show, be it on paper or in the electronic media so far has been centered on how and why he is still around, and why he shouldn't be.

4) He has received the backing and support of just about every celebrity in town including the notorious radio DJ Howard Stern and even Presidential hopeful Hillary Clinton has jumped onto the Sanjaya bandwagon, using him as a shining beacon of the glory of democracy.

5) Votefortheworst.com has crowned him the most 'successful' and most popular Idol contestant ever, based on the number of hits the site has received since the site made him their anointed one (close to ten million hits a day)!

Even Carrie Underwood, arguably the most successful of all the Idol winners, could not generate such media hype and activity with her best farmbot performance. Ok, so the poor boy can't really hold a tune consistently and his sense of style is at best awkward, but hey, it is exactly just that blend of teenage confusion, arrogance and self assurance that is appealing to many a voter's heart and fingers, enough to send his fans to the phone dialing in their votes by the droves each week.

One may say that his fans are tone deaf and consist of just pre-pubescent teens who have too much money and time on their hands. Well, just in case you didn't realise yet, these pre-pubescent teens are the ones who will go out and buy their idol's Cds and collect the merchandise and attend the concerts. Not the more discerning adult who actually understands what 'pitchy' really means and is able to remember when they first heard "I Who Have Nothing" on the radio way back when; no, they would much rather just sit back and be astounded by the atrociousness of Sanjaya and then do nothing about it except maybe send hatemail to FOX whenever their 'favourite' contestant (whom they never bothered to vote for in the first place) gets booted out instead of poor Sanjaya.

So I say, in the spirit of democracy, flower power and all that is quirky and fun, let Sanjaya have his day. Let him sing. Let him show to the world all that he can do. It's not like he can't sing. He can, just not as good as some of the other more experienced and accomplished contestants. I'm sure we haven't seen (or heard) the last of him, not by a mile. And American Idol is the poorer for having lost this cheerful, effervescent young man. I mean, after all, would you rather tune in to find out what old forgotten standard Melinda will belt out next, or do you find Sanjaya's hair-raising antics more worthy of your TV viewing?

Let's face it, we are all living in Sanjaya's universe, yes, even dear old Simon Cowell.

Of Sushi and James Earl Jones

"Hey, you're a guy, right?"

Meet May, an old school friend who was an "almost-girlfriend" of mine from school times. We kept in touch and now I'm her agony uncle.

"Erm.... last I checked, I am, yeah." I said, sporting a cheshire cat grin.

"Ha ha. Please, be serious. I need your opinion on this guy I've been seeing."

Oh no. Here we go again. Why is it that girls always come up to me asking me for relationship advice, like I'm their personal Dr. Phil? Me, someone who has had more failed relationships than a cat has lives.

"What's he like?"

""Erm.... see, that's the funny thing," she went gingerly, while her hands played absentmindedly with the straw of her iced lemon tea. "I'm not quite sure."

"What do you mean, not quite sure?" I can just see a train wreck coming.

"Thing is, I only know him by his voice...."

Huh?

"Ok. here's the story... and don't interrupt my story!" she warned. Oh dear. Here we go again with one of her almost boyfriends tales.

"See, Jeannie (one of her ultimate best-friends in this universe and the next) decided to set me up with this guy who's a friend of her former uni-mate. She gave him my number, with my permission, of course, so that...

"Why..."

"I said, don't interrupt and let me finish!"

"Ok, ok." Sheesh, no wonder she still can't find a decent guy.

"So, anyway, Patrick, that's his name, by the way, calls me up one fine day a couple of months ago. My first impression was, wow, what a nice voice. I mean, he's got this manly, deep booming voice that just begs to be listened to. You know what I mean?"

"You mean, ... like this?" I lowered my voice one octave.

"Ha ha. Actually that's not too bad. Yeah."

You can just imagine my eyes rolling to the back of my head if they could.

"So anyway, we talked for quite a bit, and exchanged the necessary info about each other, like what do we do for a living, where we studied, what kind of food we liked - he likes sushi, just like me, hehehe,- and what kind of music we listen to, that sort of thing. He was very attentive and seemed genuinely interested."

"In that manly voice of his, of course?" I wondered if I wasn't being sarcastic enough.

"Yes. In that manly voice of his. " she added, smiling in spite of herself.

"Gosh, May, you girls are such a bunch of suckers...."

"Did I say you could interrupt?" And she went on without waiting for my answer," We talked for about an hour and finally arranged to meet for coffee the following Sunday, as he would be out of town until then. "

"So did you guys meet then?"

With a sigh, she said," That's the thing. I didn't hear from him at all that whole week, and then on the Saturday before the coffee thingie, I texted him to ask him about it, and four hours later, he replied saying that he couldn't make it 'cos he's got to go back to his hometown to help his mom do some renovation negotiations with the contractor."

"Awww... that's so sweet!"

The death stare I got from her could cut through steel.

"So, anyway, I thought, well, he was busy, so I forgave him. A few days later he called me and we started talking again, this time about the movie I saw recently...."

"Which was...?"

"It doesn't matter lah! Look, do you want to listen to my story or not???"

"Erm..."

"So, at the end of that phone call, he made a date with me to meet the following Saturday night, but this time he said he would call me to confirm."

"OK, that's mighty erm.. responsible of him. So then what happened?"

"He didn't call. Saturday came and went without a single beep from him."

"Why didn't you call him back to confirm like you did the previous time?"

"What, and appear desperate?" she said as if the whole premise wasn't wretched enough as it was.

"So anyway, he called to apologise a couple of days later, saying that his boss suddenly unloaded a ton of files for him to work on throughout the weekend and he was sorry that the date flew out of his mind"

"Those were his exact words, 'flew out of his mind' ?" This was beginning to sound really familiar. And dreary. And sad.

"Well, he did say he was sorry...." as if that would atone for everything.

"So then what happened? Did you finally meet up with him or not?"

Her eyes looked down at her half drunk glass of tea, now more lukewarm than iced.

"Erm.. no, not yet. See, we tried to arrange to meet up a few more times after that, but every time was the same. He couldn't confirm beforehand and as the date aproached, something always came up. He had to fly to Jakarta, his friend needs him to pick him up at the airport, etc. etc."

"And you're still hung up on this guy because...?

"He's a really nice guy. Really. He's genuinely interested in meeting up. And he's got such a nice voice! " That's her, arguing her case before me, the relationship judge.

"So all this frustration and anxiety you're feeling now is over a masculine voice???" I said with incredulity dripping off the corner of my mouth.

"Ok, it sounds silly when you put it that way."

"That's because it is silly. You know it, you just need someone to tell you so." Honestly, I love this girl with all my heart, but at that moment, I wished I could just kick her ass and knock some sense into her.

"So, what do you think?" She looked at me with those hopeful eyes, beckoning me to expound some deep and profound secrets of the male psyche, all in the hopes of justifying her current beau's behaviour.

"Look, here's the verdict. This guy ...what's his name?"

"Patrick," she reminds me, slightly indignant as to how on earth I could forget that name.

"... right, Patrick, calls you up, sweet talks you into meeting up with him for what was essentially a blind date and then promptly 'forgets'. Then he comes back to apologise, you accept his apology, and he does the whole shebang again. You then start to make excuses for him not meeting his end of the bargain and give him chance after chance after chance. In the end, it's been, what, two months of fruitless near-rendezvouses and you still have no idea who this guy actually is, other than that he likes Japanese food and he has a manly voice. Is that about right?"

All was quiet on the female front. Crickets start to creak.

This was gonna hurt but someone had to give her the awful truth.

"Ok. You wanna know what I think? Honey, I hate to say this but he's just not that into you. For all you know he could be married and is just having fun flirting with poor little girls who're just a bit lonely and also a bit desperate. I am sorry. Be nice to yourself and delete his number from your handphone.... and you can tell Jeannie to never ever do any matchmaking deeds 'cos she sucks at it!"

The shocked look on her face was priceless.

Mysterious Gift

I saw this sign at the checkout counter of a local supermarket in Melaka. There's just so many things wrong with it. Firstly, since it is a 'Baby Fair', why aren't infant formulas eligible for the gift? And while we're at it, I am just dying to know what the mysterious gift is? Something bizarre? Something ....queer? I got nosy and asked the checkout girl: A lousy packet of Maggi Mee. Kari Meletup flavour, no less!

Fry, baby, fry!

The third instalment of The Godfather Trilogy will always be remembered for three things:

One, it was the worst of the three; two, Sofia Coppola's wooden performance and how she parlayed that into Oscar nominations for screenwriter and director for 'Lost In Translation'; and three, the infamous quote by Al Pacino, "Just when I thought that I was out they pull me back in!"

Well, that allusion was surely on my mind that Tuesday afternoon, as I was just settling down on the office couch for a much needed 40 winks. My handphone had gone on the fritz a day earlier, refusing to light up whichever button I pushed, and then just when I was about to give up, voluntarily called up someone from the phonebook, resulting in my having to explain to my office technician why I called him ten times from 11.00pm onwards on a Sunday evening.

So, I sent said culprit machine to the repair guy and in the meantime, dug out my old handphone from the depths of the unused electronic gadgets pile that I keep for situations like this. Ironically this phone was relegated for pretty much the same reason: dying on me and relighting up as and when it pleased. Well, so far in the 24 hours I had been using it, it was working fine. Goes to show: sometimes you need to leave the machine alone for a bit and it will get its mojo back. Or so I thought.

So, there I was lazing on the couch staring at the ceiling, when all of a sudden the phone beeped the 'You have a message' tone. I checked the screen and was surprised to find that I had six unread messages. Which was weird as I had only just checked an hour ago and there was none. So, out of curiosity I scrolled over to the inbox and found that there were six messages and they were all from my ex! My ex, yes, the one from two years back. The one who one day just decided that she has had enough and coolly said "I think we should stop seeing each other, goodbye" and never was heard from again. The one that got away.

"Just when I thought that I was out they pull me back in!"

A wave of emotions started coming back to me: the blinding anger, the paralysing sadness, the confusing anxiety,the frustrating helplessness. Each and every of them rushed over me in succession, almost causing me to lose my breath for a moment. I thought I was over her. Over as in she-can-rot-in-hell-for-all-I-care over. Over as in she-can-be-fucking
my-best-friend-and-I-wouldn't-even-bat-an-eyelid over.

I opened the first message:

"Hey baby... How are you today?"

Hey baby? Hey baby???? That was unexpected, to say the least. What right had she to call me 'baby'? Then suddenly, it hit me. This wasn't a 'new' message. It probably was a message from way back when that the phone had stored in its memory and somehow decided that it was time to torment me with. Again.

I opened the second message:

"So what's for lunch? I missed talking to you last night."

That was familiar. Very familiar. I recalled receiving that message when we were still in the euphoric stage of the relationship. When a day without talking to each other was a day of longing and anxiety. Without realising it, I smiled. Briefly, before the pain came back again.

Third message:

"Honey, I'm sorry I didn't answer your call. I am in a meeting. I'll call you later."

This was a trip down memory lane. A very rocky lane. In hindsight I should have recognised the signs that things weren't going well. But I guess my stubborn and hopeful belief that things was or could get better overpowered my common sense.

"Just when I thought that I was out they pull me back in!"

The fourth message was a plea to help pay her car instalment. Well, that was RM600 down the proverbial drain. Now, I am not one to demand that an ex return all that I have given her a la Beyoncé's " Irreplaceable" but that message did give me some pause to mentally calculate just how much I did 'help' her with. There was that RM2000 for her car gear box, another RM500 for new curtains to help her mom celebrate Raya and I didn't even wanna think of all the holidays we went on, holidays which I paid for the both of us.

By now, all the fondness had already been sucked out of my reminiscence and all that was left were bitter reminders of how stupid and foolish I was to think that she thought of me as more than just a cash cow. So by the time I got her fifth message:

"Happy Birthday! Hope I am still in time to wish you" - I almost wished that I never found the damn phone.

One would expect that the first person to send a birthday greeting would be the love of one's life right? Well, I did receive that birthday greeting... at 11.45pm, with just fifteen minutes to go. Hmmm....now, it does sound petty of me to be so mad at her for wishing me so late in the day, had it not been for the fact that she actually was one of those who remembers everybody's birthday and has been known to take time off work just to bake cakes or cookies for someone's daughter's birthday party and borrow money (from me, no less) to rush-delivery an Amazon.com order just so that the package would arrive on time for her best friend's dog's birthday celebration.

A dog.

And all I got was a birthday sms hours after everyone I knew ( and some I completely forgot about) had sent me greetings.

"Just when I thought that I was out they pull me back in!"

The sixth sms was the inevitable goodbye and fuck off message. I had complained to her about the way she 'almost' forgot my birthday. Instead of apologising or even at least coming up with an excuse like she was busy at work or had some major life threatening problem to deal with, she came back with,

"I am not like your mother or your best friend or your stupid colleagues who will bother to remember your bloody birthday, ok? "

Wow. And that was how it all ended. I never heard from her since and while it was painful, the triviality of how it all came to a head, helped me realise that this so-called relationship was just too immature and silly, both for me and for her.

Now, with all six messages read and digested, I once again lay down on the couch, and reflected on the love that I thought was The One. How sweet it was in the beginning. And how badly it turned out in the end. And how, now, I can really say that, yeah, I really couldn't care less if she is frying her selfish bitch of an ass in hell right now.

Guess there's only one thing left to do.

I pressed 'delete'.

Similan Liveaboard: Leopard Shark

The Seamoth (our liveaboard) sports a really spacious sundeck (or as Yanni our DM says, moondeck) where a lot of us flocked to in the cool evenings to catch the lovely Andaman breeze and have Oprah Winfrey sessions.

The dive sites around Similan include Koh Bon and Richilieu Rock. Visibility was generally quite good but what's visibility when all you can see are other divers and more divers? Still, it took the sharp eyes of Joseph to spot a group of juvenile ... erm.. some type of fish.... at their local Seabucks joint.

The resident hermit crab was very shy and very prudently placed itself in a narrow crevice where none of our cameras could reach. Smart move, hermy!

I always have a problem differentiating between an angelfish and a butterflyfish. Then Yanni taught me an easy way to figure it out: An angelfish has dorsal fins which are sharp at the end, while the butterflys have more rounded ends..... or it is the other way around? Oh crap! I forgot again! Yanni, help.

This is a flatworm. It is a relative of the nudibranch except it is erm... flat.

Here's another cute but shy little crab. This one hid in a clump of staghorn corals while waiting for its meal to float by.

And here is the piece de resistance. A really really big Leopard shark. It was lying there on the seabed posing for us. Thing was, and I didn't notice at the time, seabed was almost 40 metres deep. That's 130 feet from the surface! Gan went crazy when he saw all of us happily snapping away, all the while running the danger of going deco! (or possibly getting the bends upon surfacing.)

Well, thankfully we all didn't, and were very happy to celebrate the sighting that evening with beer and more beer. Damn, and I can't drink.

Before we knew it, the boat pushed into a small fishing village and it was time to say our goodbyes. It has been a great trip, if nothing else, for the fantastic crew and the enjoyable gang of crazy divers on board.

I have made lots of good friends on board and we even met up a week later for some Tom Yam Kung. Thanks so much Ja for taking all that trouble to cook up a storm for us. See you guys soon!

Similan Liveaboard: Manta Hunting

This is Gan, our group's Divemaster. He is now demonstrating how to do underwater Para-para dancing. Even the fish are wondering what on earth this alien creature is doing, hands and fins flailing all over the place.

This is not a spear. It's another type of trumpet fish... I think. Maybe this one's on a diet... or trying to get on Similan's Next Top Model Fish.

The resident seahorse was kind enough to pose for us as one by one we flashed our strobes at its face and jostled with each 0ther trying to get a good angle. I think the poor fella's blind from all that bright flashes by the time we were done.

This is not your regular Moray eel. This is a banded coral eel. It was a bit difficult to get close enough to get a better shot as it was hiding in a deep and narrow cavern sheltered by three sea urchins. Ouch!

And its neighbour is this rare honeycomb eel. This is the first time I've seen this creature up close. Very beautiful and very shy.

Then Gan decided to out into the blue to try and find us some whale sharks and manta rays. After about ten minutes of blueness, along came this cute little jellyfish. It has tiny colourful lights running down the entire length of its body.

Manata.... manta.... where are you?

Meanwhile, I ventured a bit off the beaten path to take a few pics of soft corals while waiting for the big stuff to appear. It's amazing to see such beautiful colours in these otherwordly looking plants and creatures.

And this cushion star looks so comfortable and made me felt a bit sleepy......

And then..... FINALLY. She arrives! Swimming majestically across the water, current or no current she floats by serenely. It's times like these that you are suddenly reminded of how wonderful our world is, with its creatures big and small.