Last Night in Penang

You know when something might be telling you it’s time to leave...?


Well last night I only got to bed around midnight but it took me ages to get to sleep. Probably because I knew I really had to get to sleep. I heard one of the boys get up and go into the kitchen but really didn’t think any more about it and eventually I must have drifted off.

I was woken up by some sort of rattling of the door and when I looked out of the window I saw that thick clouds were moving in. Wow, thought I, those storm clouds are really creating some differences in air pressure to make the door rattle like that. So I got up, locked the door to try and secure it more firmly, checked the time (3.22) and went back to bed. 

The door rattles again, but in a sort of more determined way. Very odd, so I got up and shoved my gym bag in front of the door. That’ll sort it, I thought, and went back to bed.

But the rattling became more insistent, followed by pauses. Crikey, I thought, it sounds actually quite deliberate, almost human. So I shut the window and tried to lie down again.

The door rattled again. By this time I am starting to freak out. You know, it’s the middle of the night, last night in Penang, the door is rattling, all sorts of nasty movies from the past are playing out in my head as well as scenes from CSI and what not. You can’t think rationally half asleep but by this time I was wide awake, lying rigid on the bed and still not thinking rationally. And the door rattles again. It’s these few seconds of rattling, followed by a pause, and rattling again. At least I know the door is locked. 

It’s got to be the dog, it’s just got to be the dog. And I vow to try and sleep until morning and then go and find out if the kitchen door is shut and the dog is locked in the kitchen. If not, I am officially freaking out.

Of course I couldn’t get back to sleep and lie there like a zombie for a couple of hours until I drift away right before the alarm goes.

I shoot out of bed, switch on all the lights, stumble through to the kitchen and lo and behold – thank the Lord – the door is open. The boy must have left it open last night and Roxy got out. I breathe a sigh of relief, turn on the kitchen light, and come face to face with my nemesis, a vicious mutant, poisonous and aggressive, demon of Penang, yes a swarm of....

....rove beetles.

Obviously they were attracted to the light that was on all night.

I shriek, propel myself backwards, at speed, turn off the light and shut the door. And take Roxy the dog for a walk. 

By the time I come back the boys' mother has braved the kitchen and there’s only one left, hovering around the light. I beat a hasty retreat, again.

After all that excitement I come into work and the first thing I do is use the loo. It’s only when I start the flush does the gecko show himself in a frantic lizardy scrabble to climb the sides of the bowl waterfall.

I’m going home.

And the award for third place goes to...

...St Andrews! The Guardian University Guide 2012 places St Andrews 3rd in the UK, behind Oxford in second place. My other alumni institute, Cambridge, takes the top spot in the annual examination of the UK's 120 univesities.

It's a boy!

Baby makes threee!  It's the second time that I'm in Penang and am announcing a birth in Family B. and  this time I will have to wait even longer to meet the little cowboy...but we are all delighted and proud that he arrived safely. Two girls and a boy...do I know another family that followed the same trajectory?!

Last of...

- cheap foot massage
- loud gym music
- the gym
- getting up at 5.30am to walk roxy
- having to leave work at 5pm to beat the traffic
- sea views
- being fanatical about finding shade
- lunch for the equivalent of 80p
- having to think about fun things to do
- incredibly red sunrises at 7am
- identical work/social friends
- 13 hour time differences on Skype
- obsession with a fan at night time
- dripping in sweat after walking up the hill to the appartment
- overpriced wine
- coming across a high school group playing a medley of Lady Gaga's hits

No you cannot

If you want to look old...

The Universe Collides

10 years ago I was working my first 'proper' job after graduation at the European Parliament in Brussels, for Struan Stevenson MEP.

A decade later and I'm part of the SEAT Project. Struan is still an MEP, but my EP and SEAT universes 'collided' a few weeks ago when Struan made a visit to project members in Stirling to learn a bit more about pangasius farming before his trip to Vietnam in April.

I'm glad there is so much cohesion between my previous and current work, and most of all - my network.

SEAT:

EP:

Pancake Party

Imagine:

Early morning. Boy proudly holds up lunchbox of crepes cooked the night before.

Top crepe tumbles.

Lands jam-face down on computer keyboard.

Imagine:

Howls and shrieks of laughter, tears streaming down face, unceasing side-splitting mirth..the kind where no sound comes out because you are laughing so hard.

Ribena

For all ribena-lovers, that lovely blackcurrent taste now comes in pastilles!

Right here, waiting for you

Thinking of two special ladies and their baby bumps...both due a couple of days ago. Wishing you easy and safe deliveries and sending you lots of love and hugs. Looking forward to meeting them! xx

Rove Beetle Update

If I told you all the stages my Rove Beetle burned skin has gone through over the past week since I got back to Penang, I'd put you off your morning coffee and croissants. Suffice to say that the sudocrem wasn't clearing up my scaly peeling deep and thick lizard skin, so back to the steroids and antibiotics it is. The venemous blighter:

A Conference of Economists

At the end of our Home Economics project on 'Cereals' in High School, each pupil had to give a 3-minute presentation of our 6 page report. I remember writing my presentation, practising it, recording it and playing it back, and then practising it again.

At the end of the presentation, Mrs Davidson asked me whether I had ever thought of a career in public speaking....

I've never really seen what she saw. Although I follow pretty much the same preparation as twenty years ago, I still hate giving presentations and my major flaws of speaking too quickly and using notes are slow to change.

Now that my fieldwork is over and the basic fieldwork reports completed, it's time for the analysis to begin, and the best way to force that along is by scheduling a paper+presentation at a conference. My colleague submitted the abstract in December last year, so we've known for a while that the deadline is Monday. Nevertheless, we've both had fieldwork and the third author has a busy job. So this week I have been frantically working to write this paper, while my colleagues have been equally frantically working (mostly via Skype) to justify their co-authorship. In the end, we are quite pleased with the result and may try and take it on further to a publishable standard after the conference.

The only thing worse than presenting your own work at a conference must be presenting someone else's work. As funds don't quite stretch to my attendance at the conference in June in Germany, the second author will be presenting. She is a much better presenter than I am, but the paper is not directly in her field. 

But the most important outcome for my PhD has already been achieved: forcing me to think analytically!

Flights of Fancy

Pirates of the Caribbean 4, Something Borrowed, Water for Elephants...the ecclectic mix now showing at Gurney Plaza cinema in Penang. I've seen them all in the past week. 

There's really not much to do here in Penang. There's the gym, but after 4 months I returned to classes and everyone was doing the same stuff, to the same music, and even standing in the same spots in the room. It's so b-o-r-i-n-g.

Then there is work and meeting friends - which   happen simultaneously whether we are actually at work or not...basically because my only friends are my work colleagues. I have also ventured again into the historical centre of Penang to find some last minute gifts, which was a nice reminder of some of the positive and unique aspects that Penang has to offer.

Still, I will miss it in some ways. Leaving Penang is the end of an era as I've had my base here in Asia for over a year. My work colleagues/friends are really nice, and being here has provided me with incredible opportunities in terms of work and travel. Penang - if over-developed, hot, dirty and mall-centred - is beautiful in many ways and I can see why people consider that they have a high quality of life here.

However, I don't really. I like being able to walk on pavements, to feel that it is safe to ride a bike, and to go elsewhere other than the mall. I'm outta here on the 31st of May, and I am looking forward to it.

The Circle of Life

Just under 6 years ago, Emily welcomed me to my OECD interview and was therefore the first person I met at the OECD - she remained the kindest and loveliest.

She was one of my great champions - both professionally and personally, and both while at the OECD and since. A discreet feminist, she hinted at her pride in my achievements and those of her husband and two daughters. She was gentle and thorough, kindhearted and humble.

Emily died last Friday from a rare and aggressive form of skin cancer and after a long illness that she bravely fought. She was my friend and I will miss her dearly.

I last saw her at Christmas when I was in Paris for a few days, and although she told me her cancer had returned, I was preoccupied with fieldwork this Spring and missed that she was on sick-leave again. I also missed my chance to say goodbye, although until just a few days ago she too was expecting to return to work. This is the third family friend who has passed on in the past week. As I await the birth of three special babies sometime in this coming week, it's kitsch, but I can't help feeling it's the circle of life. The photo below probably better represents life at the OECD and fun with Emily:

Introducing El Puma

Full Name: El Puma de los Andes

Nickname: El Puma

Habitat: Paris, Peru, and, on occasion, where Blondefish is spotted.

Warning: may be making repeat appearances on this blog.

The Rove Beetle and the Nappy Rash Cream

Well that all sounds very nice Ingrid. Sounds like you had a good time in Nepal.

But this is a Kelling I am talking to.

You know, the type that gets deported from countries, or forgets passports, or leaves wallets on trains.

Surely, surely, there is a story here that you have ommitted?

Well now, funny you should ask. Because there is one thing...

At the end of our first sight-seeing day in Nepal, during which I had been wearing long sleeves for sun protection, I was drying myself after a shower when my towel passed over my left arm, causing me searing pain. For the first time I spotted a 3-inch long gash on my forearm, crossing the inner elbow joint. It was a long line like a knife-wound, with half of the gash on the upper arm, which looked less severe than the forearm.

This is all very strange, thought I, for I have been wearing long sleeves all day. We speculated that I might have somehow been bitten by an insect at some point, but it was very odd. I decided to leave it even though we were going up into the mountains, as while the area around the gash was red and swollen, it looked more like a bit of a scratch.

Within 24 hours the 'scratch' had formed little blisters and another 24 hours later the blisters had grown, joined, erupted and opened. I now had a trench in my arm and the redness had become angry-looking and my arm was ballooning. Now it was also becoming painful to the touch and while the gash on the forearm led the way, the marks on my bicep seemed to be following a similar path.

Another 24 hours and the trench was deeper, wider and the skin looked like it was being eaten away. It took one more day for me to get medical attention, mostly because I had faith in my antibiotic powder, organic gel and pure aloe vera. Stupid. What I really needed were mounds of synthetic drugs

I still had no idea really what it was so it was difficult to know at what point I needed further help but on the final day before seeking treatment the blisters started opening on my upper arm and the forearm looked like someone had thrown acid on me. Even I could see that something was very wrong and not about to get better easily. So in Ghorepani of all places, at over 3000m and the highest point of our trek, we found a medical checkpoint, staffed with a nurse. She asked me a few questions and pretty quickly gave me a cream to 'reduce inflammation'. I was a bit dubious but figured it couldn't hurt, and just to be sure and because I was starting to get worried, I applied it 4 times a day instead of twice.

Miracle of miracles, within 24 hours the blisters had closed, the gouge was healing and the skin had stopped receeding. Another 24 hours and the whole wound started to dry and flake off. What is this stuff? When I finally got access to the internet I googled it and it turned out to be a strong steroid and antibiotic cream (Betamethasone Valerate and Neomycin) - ideal for my needs but so strong that they recommend not using it beyond 5 days in case an allergy develops.

What I've been left with is what looks like a 4-inch long and 1-inch wide 'burn', where the skin is pink and raw, but at least seems to be growing back. Here it is on my last day in Nepal, which maybe indicates how bad it was at its worst 5 days earlier.

The mystery was only solved when I returned to Penang and my injury was immeditely spotted with horror by Alexa and Eddie, with whom I am staying. They said in unison 'rove beetle', and there we have it. I got bitten on my one night in Penang when dropping off my fieldwork luggage and collecting my equipment for Nepal. Rove beetles are tropical beetles that live in jungles and are attracted to light. Despite being on the 23rd floor, my bedroom is only about 50m from the hillside jungle behind the condo. Rove beetles don't really sting or bite, they generally just get crushed and it is most likely that I crushed mine when I was sleeping, leaving the nasty gash in the forearm. By closing the forearm, I then transferred the venom to my bicep, which explains why it followed a little behind the forearm's blister development. Luckily I didn't touch anywhere else, as both Alexa and Eddie had been affected in the weeks before my stay and had transferred the venom to other parts of their bodies before they realised what they were dealing with. It takes around 24-36 hours before the blisters start to show as the body reacts to the Rove venom - more potent than cobra venom. The venom essentially acts like acid and continues to eat away at skin, so leaving it can lead to further complications.

Alexa had even made it to the doctor in Penang, who prescribed antibiotics but didn't really know what a rove beetle was. Instead, it was three women at her book club who live in similar jungle-proximity and who identified the beetle and the best cure: Sudocrem, a nappy rash cream.

So that is the medication I am currently working with, but my little infection is a few times worse than Alexa and Eddie's 'bites' and it may take some time. Hopefully no scarring though.

So yes, there was another story in there.

A Day in Kathmandu

Having travelled all the way back to Kathmandu yesterday and successfully (but slowly) negotiated the mega-hill up the valley, we had a day to explore the city before we finally say goodbye to Nepal. Nepal lies higher than any other country except Tibet and numbers eight of the fourteen highest peaks of the world. 'Annapurna: First Conquest of an 8000-meter Peak' was published in 1951 by the French mountaineer Maurice Herzog, leader of the first expedition in history to summit and return from an 8000+ metre mountain. It is considered a classic of mountaineering literature and where I am staying in Penang just happens to have a copy. In his fascinating account, Herzog writes 'Nepal is an astonishing region, sometimes sweltering under a burning sun that parches everything, sometimes flooded by torrential monsoon rains'.

We managed to experience both in one day - hot sun in the morning and by lunchtime it was pouring down. Before the storm, here is the view of a Kathmandu suburb.

Air pollution is a serious problem in Kathmandu thanks to industry (brick making around the city), extensive traffic and congestion and burnings in temples, including cremations. We saw one of these at the main Hindu shrine, Pashupatinath temple. The temple is a UNESCO World Heritage site and many tourists visit every day, not least because it is the main cremation site. In the photo below, the cremation fires have been burning all morning.

In the photo that follows, one family is undertaking the final funeral rites of the body draped in orange at the front of the picture, while behind, a second family carries the body draped in orange to another pyre. We watched the whole of one ceremony from the initial washing of the deceased's feet in the river at the bottom of the picture, through the paying of respects by family members, the wailing of the women, the garlanding of the body and smearing with red dust, and eventual binding with silk cloth and placement on the pyre. In comparison to Western funerals, the rituals here encourage contact between the deceased and the family as well as providing the means to show respect. It seems to me that the use of coffins in our Western ceremonies can sometimes make a funeral seem 'unreal' - as if the person isn't really there, and we are removed from the opportunity to say a personal goodbyeto their face so to speak, or to undertake an acceptable ritual that publicly shows our love for the person and our loss. This seems to be quite different in the Hindu traditions we saw and was at times quite moving.

Tourism is sometimes called the 'third religion' of Nepal and we went from the first religion (Hinduism) to Boudhanath temple, one of the holiest Buddhist (second religion) sites in Nepal, which has one of the largest spherical stupas in the world. The stupa attracts many Tibetan Buddhist pilgrims, and the area is generally inhabited by Tibetan refugees. And it was round about here that the rains began.

We did get in a final visit to Swayambhu before the heavens truly opened, otherwise known as Monkey Temple, revered by both Buddhists and Hindus and founded around the fifth century AD. And then we ran for shelter.

She'll be coming down the mountain when she comes...

Today we left our beautiful mountains behind and descended deep into the valley for the trek home. It was equally beautiful, but in a rolling hill/rice-paddy-field kind of way.

And then we came across a shocker. A new road is being built from the valley to around 1000m, bypassing the little villages on the traditional route that rely on tourists for income. The road will take another couple of years to complete, but it will likely alter trekking circuits. On the upside, many villages will now have easier access to market and shorter transport times, but I couldn't help feeling that 'development' sometimes favours economic value over the environmental. Here is the mix of old and new: the man carrying his wares up the mountain on his shoulders, while the big digger rests silently behind.

The photo below is of the scar caused by the new road. The traditional trekking route follows the river at the bottom of the valley, but most villagers now walk on the unpaved road as it is faster and more convenient.

And then, at last, we arrived. The Two Triumphant Trekkers:

'What goes up, must come down'

Whit size de yae say yer feet wer? Och, never mind, stand here and we'll check yer feet for ye.

So I stood and was checked. It was the middle of winter, in bonny Scotland, and I was being fitted for new hiking boots for Christmas (thanks Toots!).

I hadn't even wanted new hiking boots. I only wanted replacements for my excellent Salomon walking shoes that had gainfully done their duty. But they know how to pitch their sales in Inverurie and I left the shop with wonderful make-your-coffee-in-the-morning-for-you over-the-ankle lightweight hiking boots 'just braw for the Himalaya'.

Except that I was worried. I'd tested them in Penang on a one hour walk and promptly blistered my heels, and in the swollen humidity of life in southeast Asia, the boots were definitely pinching.

But I didn't have much choice. They were now mine, at three times the price that I was originally considering, and I was going to do my level-best to get my money's worth.

And actually, they were perfect.

They were really lightweight, exceptionally comfy, my feet felt dry even after walking all day, and those nasty downhill bits weren't as bad as I was expecting. Yes, I could feel a little pressure on my toes, but with the boots properly laced up, there wasn't as much ramming or squishing as I thought there might be initially. And these boots were made for walking in, and walked me 2000m downwards.

Thoughts from the Top

There is certainly plenty to see and learn about on this trek. Sometimes, when we pass a caravan of 20 donkeys, it seems like nothing has changed in a few hundred years and the simple life holds some appeal. But it's also a hard life, dependent on the weather, seasons, crops, access to market and other things. And so much of life here is steeped in religious tradition. Below is a cairn at the top of one peak, with prayer flags draped over it.

Also worth seeing in the high Himalaya: El Puma 

The newly installed solar panels that provide the much sought-after hot showers:

And, unfortunately, to be expected perhaps...non bio-degradable plastic, hidden from view (unless you poke your head out the loo). We didn't see too many incidences of this, and in some of the villages lower down there did seem to be the separation of paper, plastic and glass bottles for mules to cart down the mountain to recycling facilities. Not that we saw any, mind. It's one of those tricky things - balancing tourist bucks versus the 'footprints' they leave behind.