Tokyo Narita Village - Prologue

Went to this quaint village three times this year. The pictures posted are an amalgamation of the three seasons during which I was there: Winter, Spring and Summer. Didn't go during Autumn. Narita Village, to quote WikiAir, is 'the host city of Narita International Airport'. It is akin to Subang Village as to Subang Airport.

While the map of Greater Narita above may not be entirely legible, suffice to say that the area covered by Narita International Airport is represented in orange. The history of the airport is an interesting read, for its conception and eventual construction attracted much resistance.

Today, with further expansion of the airport all but cancelled, the peaceful village serves as a transit point for international air travellers in and out of Tokyo. It may not have the glitter of Shibuya nor sounds of Harajuku in downtown Tokyo, but it is subtly charming in its simplicity.

Stay tuned. Chottomatte kudasai.

Distraction: Smoke Rings at 36 000 feet

Nope. No tobacco was involved in the formation of these. Only plenty of jet fuel. The streaks of jet contrails we see trailing jetliners look like this up close. The spinning vortices are always present in the wake of an airplane due to the sheer velocity of airflow over, and under, the wing surface. These turbulent eddies can be so strong, they can rock a jumbo jet violently. It is a well documented fact that the Boeing 757 'wake turbulence' - as it is termed in the aerodynamic and aviation world- had contributed to a considerable number of aviation incidents and accidents, some fatal.
Anybody who has been close to a passing train, bus or truck would know the rush, or gust, of air in its wake. A jetliner zooms around at speeds 10 times faster. What makes the disturbance potentially deadly for a following aircraft is that it is not always visible like in the picture. Only when there is visible medium, like smoke, through which the wings penetrate can the extent of the vortices be seen. But don't cancel your flight bookings just yet. Years of research and studies have improved the understanding, and hence, the avoidance of wake turbulence related incidents. Around ground level, where the loss of aircraft-control is deadliest, such vortices do not pose substantial danger after 2 minutes. And in the air, standard practices regarding distances between aircrafts pre-empts any potential hazard.

The smoke rings in the photo were visible as moisture in the jet engines' exhaust condensates in the sub-zero temperatures of high altitudes. Even so, the combination of the ambient temperature, exhaust temperature and humidity of the (already dry) surrounding air determine whether or not the visible smoke rings will form. And when they do materialize, they can be such a sight to behold:

Just don't get too close. For the buzz is beyond any tobacco-infused smoke ring could ever muster.

Gimme a (toilet) break

KLIA: Approaching the common main entrance to the rest rooms, I saw a cleaning lady, I took a quick glance at the gender sign and made a left towards the Gents. But the lady was staring at me. Walking past her, she followed me with her eyes. As I entered the wash basin area, she was actually tailing me, shouting 'Oi! Oi!'. Crap! Did I just enter the Ladies? Bladder was about to burst, result of trying out some 'water therapy' in the morning and not making any stops all the way from Sentral. I was on the verge of panic. My engorged bladder would undoubtedly relief itself should some lady in the loo screams. Then I see urinals. MALE urinals. The aunty saw them around the same time, too. She hushed, blushed and got the **** out. I skipped, unzipped and let the waste out. Coming out of the dunny, the lady was nowhere to be seen, her bucket and mop waiting her return from exile somewhere.


CHANGI: Bladder was about to explode again. Toilet, check. Gents, check. I hurried in. Then I see the above on the wall! Did I actually goof and brought my grief into the Ladies this time? I was livid. In Singapore, they'll brand me a perv, jail me and the papers will have my sorry face all over it. Just then, a great sight for exploding male bladders: The urinal. It was the Gents, after all, 'Mommy's Helper' or not. Just why would they still call it 'Mommy's Helper' when it's in Dad's John?

Twice within 3 hours, I was mortified with the prospect of having entered the Ladies. Wonder if I should do the water therapy again.......


Water therapy info

Lencongan

I was supposed to blog about a visit to Narita Village in the outskirts of Tokyo. But I came across a LENCONGAN (diversion) that had me write about this instead. All because the darned portable 60GB hard-disk holding a few thousand photos, including the hundred-odd taken around Narita, decided to check out of permanently. I was hopping mad. "Du-uh! ******* hard-disk mati katak!" (literally: to die a frog's death) was my internalised exclamation upon the discovery. Interesting idiom this one, relating to the seemingly ignoble end to the frog. And there are many ways the frog doth croaks. One photo of which I kept in my laptop:

This amphibian hopped into the wrong pond for a dip: A hot spring. Took this picture on a drive from Cameron Highlands to Gua Musang, along which route is the hot spring. Other scenes of a frog's demise are too graphic to be shown here or even be photographed. You must have all seen plenty. I must say that the frog population must have dwindled a lot because I, for one, can recall coming across a lot more dead frogs when I was younger. Global warming? More roads and more vehicles? One too many biology lessons? Or the wise men of old really knew something about the leggy ones' inevitable leap towards extinction, mostly under undignified and unglamourous circumstances?

Then it got me wondering if anybody actually calls his/her blog mati katak? Voila! There is one such. I sincerely hope it is a misnomer, for such an appellative certainly comes with it a foreboding connotation. I am not about to jump to conclusions. For I have a more pressing undertaking at hand: To procure a new portable hard-disk, so I could travel around with my collection of photographs once more.

Before that can happen, I must first make sure the 500GB external drive at home hasn't gone the way of the frog looking for a hot dip.....

SELAMAT HARI RAYA EID AL-FITR to MUSLIM FRIENDS.

Maaf zahir dan batin to all.

A short day in Bangalore

India has always been a favourite destination of mine. The people, the place, the food, the history... the whole subcontinent is soaking with culture. And recently, I had the good fortune of spending 36 hours in Bangalore, the Silicone Valley of India.

Bangalore is the state capital of Karnataka. Located on the Deccan Plateau some 3000ft above sea level, it enjoys wholesome mountain weather most of the year. As my stay was short, I had to give utmost priority to two must-do's of mine: 1) Stock up on Hindi movie DVDs and, 2) Eat!

But of course, along the way, picture-taking is customary. Firstly, I headed for Brigade Road, for my DVDs. This relatively short street is the local Jalan Bukit Bintang or Orchard Road. While snapping away, I inadvertently caught this beauty in my viewfinder. She is most likely from the north-east of India. How fortuitous.

A scene from the middle of the busy Brigade Road.And this is the junction of Brigade Road and FM Cariappa Road.The hustle and bustle of FM Cariappa Road.
The streets are peppered with Bel Poori stalls like this:Bel Poori is healthy stuff. It's made up of puffed rice, a little potato, plenty of coriander, raw onion, a little chili, tamarind and, possibly, date juice, and what seem like crispbread made from chickpea flour.

However, my gastronomical attention was elsewhere. Specifically, here:
I first dined at Nadhini about three years ago, on my very first trip here. It is basically banana-leaf rice. But having it here on the Indian continent, I must say, the authenticity of the meal scores highly. Psychologically or otherwise.

Now you see it.....
.....now you don't! And nothing like a cup of Masala Chai to end it.
Strolling back to the hotel I came across this enterprising little 'un manning his dad's Bel Poori stall next to some Army quarters. He saw me with my camera and immediately waved me over, "Uncle, uncle. Please take picture."
A little further down the road I encountered street kids.
The instant I took this shot, they all surrounded me, asking for a few rupees each. Heart-wrenching. Looking around to make sure there aren't any bigger groups of kids, I handed over a couple of notes. Walking on, I couldn't help but think about Nurin and our children in Malaysia. Are our kids really luckier to have been born in Malaysia as opposed to these children here in India? The arguments go both ways. My philosophical pondering was then abruptly halted by this sight:

I stood there laughing with my camera clicking.

*Click for more info on The Holy Thirukural and forget about Da Vinci Code...

Help Find Nurin

NURIN. This cute, innocent little cherub is missing and is feared to have been kidnapped. She was last seen in Wangsa Maju, Kuala Lumpur. Please keep a lookout for her. Two days ago, the naked body of another girl was found in a sports bag in KL. A post-mortem has revealed that this poor girl was sexually tortured:

Let's find Nurin before she is harmed. Nobody deserves a fate as horrific as the one that befell the dead girl above. Except for the sick and perverted murderer who committed the most heinous of crimes, who should get worse. Let's find Nurin. Let's pray for her well-being.

*Update: Two DNA tests had confirmed that the body found in the bag was Nurin. Our hearts go to the family. We pray for Nurin. We pray for the family. We pray for all children.
(22nd September 2007)

Losing It

I've finally done it! After ten years of buying, trading-in and using mobile phones, I have gone and lost mine. Duh! And it was in Singapore - land of the line-toeing and law-abiding. My Nokia N95, with all the pictures of the wife, kids, friends, sceneries; hundreds of songs and contact information. Good thing I'm not into putting explicit acts on phone-video. Left it in the taxi while alighting. Tried in vain to get it back by calling the cab company. Calling my own number repeatedly only resulted in the option to leave messages in the voice mailbox. Got me thinking....

Have I got so reliant on this piece of electronics? And why did I have to spend a ransom on it? What other gizmos will the boffins come up with, gadgets that we don't really need to live our daily lives?

After deactivating the SIM card in the N95 at the service provider's branch, I looked around for a replacement phone. Naturally, I was feeling very miserably miserly after 'throwing away' S$1000. Signing another two years of subscription, I got this Nokia 2626 for nothing.

While I hope not to lose this, too; I would certainly feel less wretched if it happens. Trouble is, do I have the discipline and will to resist the siren calls of newer, more feature-packed mobile phones? It has only been three days, me using this very basic Nokia 2626 ....... and already I am lusting for this:

I am praying that I don't lose it! Or do I? Duh!

An end to the 'graffiti'....

Today, I was surprised to see the school finally putting a dignified end to the atrocious poster previously lambasted here. There is, after all, hope for our children. At least, where correct English grammar and spelling are concerned, in this particular school. Kudos to the Principal, I presume, for taking the step to whitewash bad English. Literally.

PS SELAMAT BERPUASA TO MUSLIM FRIENDS.

Not an excellent start

Spotted this at a Sekolah Kebangsaan in Bandar Utama. There are four, so everybody gets a 25% chance of getting it right the first time. Unlike the teacher or teachers who got it totally and awfully wrong with the grammar AND spelling. Apparently, more than a few concerned parents have pointed out the gaffe to the school principal. Evidently, it has all fallen upon deaf ears and blind eyes. I'm sure they have better things to attend to, like learning English properly! Poor kids.....

Do, Re, Meme.

missy is K.U. tagged me with this meme a while ago. Why? Because I'm from Perak. Dek missy, here goes:

1. A person is only as good as his/her actions.

2. Friendship is always about trust and respect.

3. To love is to accept and cherish.

4. Money makes me spend.

5. I miss the days when mornings were cold and the air crisp.

6. My way of saying I care is by listening.

7. I try to spread love and happiness because they are the very core of human relationships.

8. Pick the flowers when absolutely necessary; otherwise leave them where they belong.

9. To love someone is cherish someone.

10. Beauty is found everywhere in everybody.

11. When I was thirteen, what I remember the most was starting my life in boarding school.

12. When I was twenty one, I remember feeling blessed to have achieved my childhood ambition.

13. I am most happy when my loved ones are happy.

14. Nothing makes me happier than a quiet moment with my loved ones.

15. If I can change one thing, I will change the human tendency to hate.

16. If smiles were rewarded in cash then I would be Carlos Slim.

17. Wouldn't it be nice if the world is at peace and there were no sufferings.

18. If you want to read on, it’s your choice.

19. Money is not everything but almost everything needs money.

20. The most touching moments I have experienced I remember clearly.

21. I smile even to myself.

22. When I am happy, I am thankful.

23. If only I don't have to exercise to keep fit then I can eat like I did as a teen.

24. The best thing I did yesterday was catching up with a friend I haven’t spoken to for 20 years.

25. If I ever write a book, I will give it this title: MERRILY DOWN THE STREAM.

26. One thing I must do before I die, to be at peace with God.

27. Doing this meme, I feel relieved I’ve fulfilled my obligation after being tagged.

Who will be next? Heh heh, not to worry. I'm not tagging anybody. Well, not yet......

Strategic Advertising

As seen along Tembeling Road in Singapore:

Wonder how much are the fees for the 'facility'?

My Afternoon At Kensington Gardens

Some time back, I went to London. During the approach into Heathrow, I managed to take the above picture of Kensington Gardens, which was originally part of Hyde Park. That's the (obvious) Round Pond with Kensington Palace to its left, across The Boardwalk.

As usual, I headed straight for the lovely park with my camera and (then-new) Nikon 70-200 f2.8 VR lens. A guy and his new toy, no obstacles to deter them. Straight to shooting around Kensington Gardens, en-route to Nahar Cafeteria at Mara House. Needed my fix of nasi campur and teh tarik. 10 Sterling Pounds for the meal, aiyo! A man and his hungry stomach, no obstacles to deter them, too.

Some of the hundreds of shots I took that day:






Then this little girl caught my eye. Cute little 'un this one. She was with two ladies, the older one presumably her mom and the younger one pictured below in the green jumper.

A short moment after this snapshot, they were all having snacks back on their picnic mat. I then continued to enjoy my zoom lens with shots like this:

That same cute girl from earlier on was back at the edge of the pond. I took this shot below of her and I began to focus on the swans and ducks, when there was a splash and some screams.

I turned to look, with my viewfinder of course. And my finger instinctively pressed the shutter and caught this piture.....

The poor little toddler was about 10 meters from where I was so I had to dash towards her. Her mom got there first and she promptly jumped in. It was slippery beneath. Thus, they were both slipping and sliding. The mom was gasping for help. When I got near them, I had a momentary doubt. Around my neck was a few thousand bucks' worth of equipment and should they have a swim in the murky waters of The Round Pond, I will face a murky situation indeed.

Proudly, I overcame the selfish thoughts to reach out for the lady's hand. But I still found myself in a tricky situation. The lady was just too heavy for me to pull out. I was myself slowly slipping into the water. Timely assistance came in the form of a middle-aged man. He took my other hand and together, we managed to haul mother and daughter out of the pond.

Mom thanked us and got straight to cleaning themselves up. I thanked the good 'uncle' and he just went 'Jolly good show, ta!' and off he went. Relieved that my photographic equipment was intact as was my pride (could've had to call for help had I slipped in), I decided to escape to somewhere safer:

... where this Pakcik (uncle) dishes out the best comfort food for me this side of The Round Pond,

NAHAR CAFETERIA!

Permission To Reincarnate, Sir!

I read this in the news a few days back:

I was tickled silly, gigglish at the irony of the headline. The article piqued my curiosity enough to Google the subject. I've even bought and commenced reading this book by one Stephen Batchelor.

I would think that 'living Buddhas' would mean 'Bodhisattva' - an enlightened being destined to be a Buddha, but purposely remaining on earth to teach others. Buddhist reincarnation concepts can be read about here. The authorities in China want the final say over the appointments of reincarnate monks. Red tape and rubber stamps. Wonder if there are forms to be filled.

Seventeen pages into the book now. Interesting. What's more interesting is this website I stumbled upon: The Reincarnation Station. One needs only to answer some simple questions and at the end, be told what you'd be reincarnated as in the next life. Me? I'll be a tiger. Grrrowll.....

A Simple Pleasure in San Francisco

No too long ago, I was in San Francisco. Great city. And it's summer. One of my favourite things to do there, apart from stuffing my face ( which we'll get to soon ), is a simple but professional shoe shine.
Along Market Street, there are at least two shoe-shine booths. This particular one is in front of Virgin Megastore. The contraption above is where one rests one of his feet.
Both booths are manned by African-American gentlemen. Soul music blasts from their masta-blastas. On this occassion, it was Percy Sledge, Barry White, Otis Redding and The Platters. These were the few that I could identify.
For 7 US$, your shoes get the deluxe treatment which is claimed to retain the out-of-the-shop shine for at least two weeks. For 20 bucks more, the leather gets the ultimate treatment, which is going to make your walkabouts appear spanking new for 3 months! Being a cheap dude on a budget, I sheepishly declined the superior service. So Mr.D then got working on mah shoes.....

...while his partner, dozed holding his cup of coffee. Must have been the regular ashtray-brew most diners serve in the country. Free and unlimited pouring! But I digress.
Mr D started by rolling up my jeans a notch, before cleaning my Florsheim boots ( purchased at 50% off from One U) with what seemed like soapy water. Then it was an assortment of creams and black polish, and cream again.
After what seemed like 20 minutes ( judging by the number of soulful singing from the masta blastas) , he was applying the finishing buff. Voila! I was eight bucks poorer, with a pair of shiny boots. An extra buck for the tip.

To me, it is money well spent. It is a simple yet fulfilling pleasure. Simply because I am TOO LAZY to polish my own shoes.