There's no place like home

The long way round...

This photo is a picture of the tv screen in front of me with a live image taken from the forward facing camera in the nose cone so that passengers get to see what the pilots can see. Brilliant idea for the curious such as I who never got to sit in the cockpit and now probably never will.

I could have flown directly from KL to London, but Emirates fly via Dubai direct to Glasgow, permiting me and my 36kg to not have to pay massive amounts for excess luggage from Heathrow to Scotland. I landed in Dubai around 1030pm local time or 2.30 in the morning Malaysia time. It was 35 degrees C.

Dubai has pink taxis that are driven by women and only carry women and my pink taxi took me on a 90 minute tour of Dubai's main attractions; interesting enough to keep me wide awake. I don't know if it's subconcious perlocation of Arab culture in my formative years when growing up in Cyprus, but there's something about that part of the world that I really like. The sand, the moorish architecture, the dry heat. There are no straight walls - only arches and curves and swirls. Flat roofs though. And so many doctors and medical centres.

With the current economic crisis, construction has plummeted as banks are unwilling to lend money. Nevertheless, the whole of Dubai still seems to be in phases of concrete development with cranes everywhere. We drove past the amazing 7-star Burj Al Arab hotel on the water front, before heading to the marina that reminded me of Singapore. Unlike in Asia, the roads are clean, clear and quiet. Final stop was palm island, stretching out into the sea. Apparently the sea around there is very deep, creating problems for reclaiming land but allowing large cruise ships to pull right up to the palm.

The provider of all this information was a Sri Lankan immigrant who moved to Dubai in 1996 at the age of 16. She basically ran away from home when a contact agreed to sponsor her. The largest difference for her in her life now is freedom. The freedom to have a job, earn money, decide her future etc. In Sri Lanka her brothers controlled her education and she wasn't allowed to leave the house after 6pm at night. She is much happier in Dubai although it does only mean she gets back to Sri Lanka every 5 years or so. Still, she says, it's worth it.

I only had 3.5 hours in the hotel but sleeping was worth it. And so was the trip back to the airport...an English guy leaving the hotel at the same time had a car ordered for him by his company so we cruised through the streets of Dubai into the rising morning sun in a fancy merc. Passed two lamborghinis on the way though, so I feel short changed.

Below is a picture of Iraq - almost due east of Baghdad - taken from the plane. For those interested (and I know someone who is) we flew directly north-west from Dubai to Kuwait, followed the coast up to Iraq and then sliced the length of the country to Turkey, passed the Ukraine and kept heading north-west before crossing between Denmark and Germany and coming in almost due east to Glasgow.

The trip home

I knew I would be overweight, luggage-speaking, but I hadn't counted on the extra-extra 5kg I accumulated on my final day in the office - gifts and paperwork required for the coming 4 weeks when I will continue to work part-time. The man in Penang with Malaysia airlines told me that although they had a 20kg weight limit, they would let me away with 25 kg - but the extra 11kg I'd have to pay for. I had counted on carrying around 30kg home - the baggage limit with Emirates and paying the excess was still cheaper than posting the extra. When I got to KL, I picked up my luggage and checked in at Emirates. Well, I tried, but she politely informed me I had 36kg, which I knew, but then told me that meant I couldn't travel with that much, which I think I suspected, and then told me I would have to dump 6kg of my clothes (as if!), which I hadn't expected at all. So strategy numero uno was to beg. But she was quite resolute, pointing out that Emirates has the largest baggage allowance of any airline and she simply could not budge. So strategy two: sob story + beg. You know, penniless student travelling home with lots of gifts and paperwork etc. She said, well, I could give you a couple of extra kg but that's really it, and you still need to get rid of the extra 4. She DID suggest carrying it as handluggage, but then she weighed my present hand luggage and i was already overweight, so that went out the window. So we were left with dumping stuff in the bin or paying 1000 ringgit. So I became a bit more desperate and starting pulling my work papers out of the bag, and I STILL only got it to 34kg..and then just looked beseechingly. She paused, shuffled some papers, did some calculations, paused, frowned, looked down, up, to the side and then at me. Ok she said. Woohoo says I. Then she says 'perhaps you have a little present for me for helping me?' I was like what?? It took a second and then it clicked. Oh yes oh yes I said and she slipped over the ticket envelope. I desposited my last notes in there and handed it back. And back over the counter came my boarding passes....and I left the country (with all my luggage).

Time to go home...!

....and Copacabana night to celebrate!

Cinema, subscriptions and censorship

The Penang film festival is currently under way as part of the country-wide French Art Festival, giving me something to do in the evenings that keeps me cool and a way to see how my French comprehension is coming along. What I am not following quite as easily are the censorship rules in Malaysia. This being French cinema, let's just say that the films do have some 'romantic' scenes - and this being French cinema, these can often be quite explicit. However, I have a slightly bigger problem with the censorship here than I do with the actual scenes. Take, for example, 'Les Liens du Sang' ('Rivals' in English), when some little man in the box where the projector sits stood there with this finger across half the viewfinder, blocking the rather steamy nature of the scene on the screen..at least visually. You can hear everything of course, although those wishing to read the subtitles are faced with a bit of ad-libbing. For this conservative, Islamic society, I can understand that these scenes are rather too pornographic, even if they are deemed largely acceptable in the West. But somehow, overtly gratuitous violence, horribly gory slow deaths, beatings, shootings, torture, blood everywhere..these are all acceptable to the average Joe-censor here. So while even the rather prudish 'Australia' had scenes cut (turns out it was merely Nicole Kidman's fingers trailing through the bush that got the censors all excited), people can die in horrible ways throughout any movie with no-one batting an eyelid. I don't really get it, and I don't like Mr. Whatshizname up there determining exactly what part of a movie is acceptable to the general public by the use of his index finger.

In general, cinema-going here leaves a lot to be desired. In the middle of Star Trek last week, an Indian guy 2 rows behind me answered his mobile and prattled on in English for the next 5 minutes, despite repeated 'shushings' from all nationalities around him. Scenes are regularly cut making things a bit jumpy, and bad quality reels mean that films can pause, have half the screen missing for certain scenes or those funny 'film lines' that run down old reels. Bad quality cinema is one thing, but opening my mail and censoring it for 'acceptability' is something else.

This is my subscription copy of National Geographic that arrived this weekend, and suddenly the delay in arrival every month becomes clear. This is a well researched and well written article on the changing nature of western China, and one of the pictures accompanying it just happens to show local tribal women in a mixed public bath with their breasts scored out in black marker. This sort of covert censorship of a well-reputed, scientific and thoughtful magazine is something that I cannot condone. I only changed the address labels so that I would not have 6 of them waiting for me when I got back to Scotland, but I had no idea that (presumably) all mail is checked for content. Nor is this photo exploitative. Actually, you can see worse at the tourist resort of Batu Ferringhi just 6km away. Thankfully I am leaving in only 6 days and look forward to being able to form my own views on what is and isn't acceptable to me.

smog

It might be a bit hard to see in this picture but that is the point..the mainland which is only a miles or so away is nowhere to be found. Current theory is forest fires in Indonesia or pollution blown down from China, depending on which wind direction you blame. It might be responsible for my terrible skin reactions this weekend, so whatever it is, I hope it doesn't stay.

oo, classy

Answer of the Day Part II

What I actually did was buy this:

(who wouldn't?)

Answer of the day

Some smart-alec came up with this:

Take these:
And do lots of this:
Then take these:

And do this: Add the two together and get this:

Alternatively, take this:

Wash in hot water and get this:

And send to my nieces.

The Blue Mansion

The blue mansion is much like the green Pernakan mansion that I visited on Saturday, but, er, blue. It was also owned by a rich Chinaman and has since been refurbished and filled with foreign and beautiful things. It was also the venue for the latest offerings by Alliance Francaise: 'Airs de cours', 2 baroque musicians, one playing the theorbo, a sort of lute-like instrument, and a counter-tenor who sang in French, English and Italian.



It was a delightful evening save for 2 things. First, the theorbo is very sensitive to humidity changes, which meant the air con was switched off. Within minutes the programmes started fluttering as fans, shoes came off, and not much later the poor singer's shirt was soaked. They performed for around an hour but any longer and I think they might have melted away. The other thing was the counter tenor. I simply forgot what a counter tenor was and was most startled to hear such a high-pitched singing voice come out of this normal man. Think Greg Pritchard singing Nessun Dorma in Britian's Got Talent 2009, episode 5 - on youtube.

Here are my fellow (ba)rockers: Nireka is the Sri Lankan lady with whom I am currently staying and beside her are 2 Norwegians. We are all hovering close to the wine about to fortify ourselves
for the heat ahead.

A balcony breakfast

Cue sunrise:

The Pernakan Mansion

The Pernakan Mansion was built in 1851 by a very rich Chinaman living in Penang. So oppulent and rich was he that he built his home and offices in a most eclectic design - using architecture that incorporates Chinese carve-wood panels with Egnlish floor tiles and Scottish iron works. Well, who wouldn't given half a chance. The Mansion fell into a state of disrepair for some reason (couldn't catch it from the tour guide) in 1951 and remained unlived in until 2000, when for some other reason the mansion was sold for 4 million ringitt (divide by 5ish for GBP). It took another 2 million RM and 4 years to restore it and it is absolutely worth it. This Mansion is quite a thing of beauty.

Here are the Scottish ironworks that form the balcony on the first floor. Most houses have an inner courtyard open to the elements for ventilation purposes. The ground floor was used for business and the upper floor was lived in by the family.

This is the view from the main entrace. People would arrive into this waiting area and the light in the middle is the courtyard. Just in the corner of the picture you can see a girl in a red and blue dress - she was getting her wedding photos taken there (they are taken separately to the actual wedding day) and had about 8 dress changes as well as hair additions, makeup changes etc.

Here is some amazing inlaid mother of pearl and teak chairs. The backs of the chairs are made with marble to provide some cooling to the occupant of the chair.

The entire outside of the mansion is painted in this colour of green - kind of sickly at first but works once you've seen the inside.

Many, many things were imported from England including floor tiles and tiles for bathrooms and washing and an entire room full of English crockery and another full of English blown glass. Quite odd.

This was where the cooks ate beside the kitchen.

And we all get by with a little help from our friends:

My new abode

For my final 2 weeks in Penang I have moved house to the north coast of the island.
Disadvantage: 1 hour commute to work each way
Advantage: Free 1 hour commute to work each way
Another advantage: Money can buy the wind. We are really high up (photo 3) and seem to be smacked in the middle of a wind tunnel that comes off the higher hills to the back of us, whips through my bedroom, out the living room French doors (always open) and continues on to the sea. And there is me, perched on my bed, stunning view from where I'm sat (photo 2) - when I can actually see it between the strands of my flying hair. But it makes the most serious difference at night. For the first time I am sleeping without aircon and enjoying it. The place simply feels cooler and life is that bit more bearable..pleasant even. This is probably a useful precedent for the tropics: you have a better quality of life when you are a bit cooler and you are generally a bit cooler when you can afford a place that is designed to make you feel a bit cooler. Slight issue of mutual exclusivity of PhD income and affordable place designed to make you feel a bit cooler, but I'll worry about that next year.

photo 1 - nice cool open space with marble floors and simple yet beautiful furniture. Unseen: gentle breeze. photo 2

photo 3

Question of the day

Just how am I going to get all this:


And this:
Into this:

When I needed all this:

to move it?!

Why I like Penang...

Ok..so I don't really, but early on a friend advised me to look at the positive things a new place can offer. So although I still may not like Penang all that much, there a few things I really do like about Penang:








Cheap flights to elsewhere.











A totally different cultural experience.













My friends.













The pool/the weather for a pool.







Massages for a fiver, although half the relief is actually when it's over. No western qualms about modesty and gentle stress relief here. Massages tend to be about being naked, a small towel and a tiny woman walking up your spine. Yes, these are the 'legit' massage parlours.

Happy Hour...all day long

strawberry fields for ever

The Cameron Highlands also provide most of the local strawberries in Malaysia. They have found quite an innovative way of making them: the strawberries are grown in these long white sacks filled with coconut husks about 1m off the ground. This makes them easier to pick and also keeps the berries relatively clean - this means they attract less insects and therefore get sprayed less often. My strawberry milkshake certainly tasted fantastic.

Lots of things can be found in the Cameron Highlands

...like strawberries

and tea...

and me...!

Fancy a cuppa?

This is what tea starts as. The best tea is made from the youngest shoots. A lot of tea picking is now mechanised or semi-mechanised but in the past it used to be done all by hand and pickers could pick about 80kg of tea a day each. Today, it's around 200kg and for fully mechanised picking it can be 9000 kg. The workers make around 22 cents per kilo tea picked, which works out at about 44 RM for a day's picking..yes, under a tenner for 8 hours of sweltering in the hot sun and sometimes up some pretty steep slopes. Normally, however, the company provides them with accommodation, all meals and education for their children - at least until secondary school. It reminded me of the wide disparities in income found in Malaysia. I might switch to fairly traded tea for good.



The tea is brought to the processing plant such as this one. First the tea is dried using fans blowing hot air and this will normally take a few hours. Next, the leaves are crushed and cut and sieved to get rid of stalks and to grade the tea - the smallest, newest shoots become Grade 1. This all takes about 2 days. The tea, which is then called 'made tea', then gets sent to KL for packing, before being sent back up to the Cameron Highlands and other domestic outlets for sale. Unlike in Cuba where we could literally pick up the tobacco leaves that would eventually become cigars, here we were closed off a bit more and kept behind plexiglass.


Well, I will certainly appreciate my next cuppa all the more.

All creatures great and small

Lots of things can be found in the Cameron Highlands....