Just Me

Graduation

2010-06-06T05:23:00.007+07:00

Cramming information late into the night, drowning myself in coffee in morning to rouse a half-asleep body, squeezing in another few pages in a 90 pages long report and more – these have become history as I completed my final semester in good fashion.

Top: The familiar sight of a lecture theater.

Top: The sight which most of us dread.

There will be many things I will miss as I shift out of my hall, but nonetheless, I guess life is about moving on. For all the discontentment and disappointment I have experienced, both with people and the work I have produced, I have to believe that things will get better.

Perhaps the best decision I have taken this semester was to take a beginner module in the Malay Language. Although not without difficulties in trying to make sense of the language, the best part was that my classmates and the teacher were extremely friendly.

Top: Dinner at Seoul Garden with my Malay class.

Top: Me and Mukbil, our Malay teacher's son.

It was really rare that people would bother to organize a outing, hence, I feel it was really quite an effort gathering everyone. It had been a long time since I enjoyed myself on such an outing - the laughter, the banter and the realization of a fellow backpacker in the group - all these added value to the outing, and probably the last one before I fly.

There wouldn't be much time left to reminisce these though, as my trip to Mexico and the US would start really soon.

Summer '09, Cambodia, Day 5

2009-05-28T14:38:00.014+07:00

20th May 2009

The trip was coming to an end, and so was the supply of cash we had on us.

The suggested itinerary by the tuk-tuk driver - whose name I learnt was Baby, and yes, he spelt for me B.A.B.Y - of going to the temples of Roluos followed by the floating village was modified by us - we would only go to the temples at Roluos.

The first temple we hit was Lolei, the northern most temple of the Roluos group of temples. The 4 brick towers of the Lolei were built by Yasovarman I, dedicated to his mother, father and maternal grandparents on July 893.

Right: The towers at Lolei.

We zipped off to Bakong next, as Lolei was a really small area.

Bakong is indeed rather striking. It is also a representation of Mount Meru. It consists of a five-tier central pyramid of sandstone, and is surrounded by eight towers.

Top: Bakong

Preah Ko is a really small temple collections of six prasat, or stone halls, arranged in two rows.

Top: Minh Hien trying to look cute infront of the towers.

The central tower is the tallest and represents Jayavarman II; the one on the left represents Prithivindreshvara, King Indravarman's father, and the one on the right represents Rudreshvara, his grandfather, and the three towers behind represents their wives.

We headed off to Pub Street in search for lunch, and we settled for Temple Club once more. Honestly, it does offer food that is value for money, not to mention the free pool tables available for use.

Right: Minh Hien picking a friendly fight with me again.

After the downpour of rain ceased, we decided to go to the Angkor National Museum. After inquiring a little at the tourist information center, we bargained a little with a tuk-tuk driver, and proceeded to the museum.

Once we were there though, we realised that the prices were shocking, and once again, we made the mistake of not inquiring enough at the tourist information center. It cost US$18 to tour the place, and we simply couldn't afford it. We toured the places which didn't require a ticket instead: the museum malls, which were really empty and the museum gift shop.

Top: Taking a photo with Minh Hien at the museum.

We made do with what we could, visiting gardens around the museum, before dropping off at Old Market once more. We did a little shopping and Wai San and I bought two small canvas paintings for US$4 per piece. Although her initial price was US$8 per piece, and we effectively slashed it by half, when she said yes, somehow I still felt cheated.

We had dinner at the same street as yesterday, while deciding whether to hit a pub at the night again. After some calculation, we decided that we hadn't had enough money, and we went to the supermarket instead. Keeping in mind that Minh Hien's birthday would be in a few days time, we bought her a drink as a gift - the least a poor man could buy.

The final day of our 9 day travel has ended.

Top: Minh Hien's birthday present: a drink and a 500 Riel note.

Summer '09, Cambodia, Day 4

2009-05-28T11:57:00.023+07:00

19th May 2009

If 6 AM was an ungodly hour to rise, we did one better today. We were all up and washed up by 5 AM, and after draining coffee down our throats, we set off in the tuk-tuk, ready to catch the sunrise at Angkor Wat.

The idea of spending three days at the temples of Angkor was mine and this as actually meant to give us more time to return to these temples should the sunrise or sunset not satisfy us. However judging from our tired bodies, I really doubt this would actually happen. Hence, this was probably the only sunrise we would catch, as another day of waking up at 4 AM is quite unthinkable.

As with the same case a couple of days ago at Phnom Bakheng, the crowds have already started to swell in anticipation of catching the glimmer of light spilling over the roofs of Angkor Wat. It was not to be the case however; we waited till it was 7 AM, and we didn’t catch anything as fantastic as those promised to us in various travel books and photographs.

Left: The only sunrise we caught: a tinge of orange around the cone-shaped roofs.

There wasn’t time for us to feel any sort of pity though. We had a long day ahead of us, and today, we would visit the temples around the Eastern Baray, starting with Preah Khan, moving in a circular manner and hitting the famous Ta Prohm last.

Left: Walking into the temples of Preah Khan.

The walk through Preah Khan was painful for me; the pain at my groin which started yesterday returned and the intensity increased. I had to walk in slow, controlled steps, and many a times I slowed the three of us down as I had to take a seat.

While I took a seat, Wai San walked around and 'bumped' into this 'freelance tour guide' once more, who gave Wai San some tidbits around the temple, although I will leave it to the readers whether or not they would buy the stories.

One of the tidbit which was presented to Wai San was that the two storey structure whose function, according to many sources, is still unknown, was to house a single sword. Given that Preah Khan means 'sacred sword' in Khmer language, I wonder if the 'tour guide' was pulling a quick one on Wai San.

Right: The two storey structure whose function is still largely unknown.

The other tidbit was that the main item of worship sat in the center of the temple, and that among the 4 entrances - the north , south, east and west gates - only the east gate has a constant door frame size, as only the king would walk through this gate. The rest had to walk via one of the other gates, whose door frame size would gradually decrease in size, forcing the worshippers to crouch down and bend their frames, in a gesture that resembles them bowing.

Left: The main object of worship in the center of the temple.

I had a certain idea to give up the day of traveling as I felt it was quite torturous to climb in such agony under the beating sun. I decided to postpone that decision after lunch.

Lunch was an interesting experience, but had I not interfered, I still think that Wai San could have made matters gone out of hand. Our meals at these small ‘restaurants’ at the temples were rather costly, with a simple dish of rice and curry chicken could fetch US$3. So far we had two such meals – one lunch and one breakfast at these small eateries. I can’t remember who came up with the idea, but we decided that just perhaps, food was up for bargaining as well.

Hence, we took up a different strategy this time round. As we alight from the tuk-tuk, the usual scene of touts pushing their menu into our faces appeared, but this time, we took a slow walk instead of agreeing. Almost immediately, a group gathered around us, pushing their menu to us.

That said, these touts never learnt that differentiating themselves from their competitors could help business. We gave them a lesson. In an apparent state of ‘confusion’, I raised us my hand and said “I’ll go to the one with the cheapest food!” This prompted a frenzy of price war.

“Sir, sir, we sell drinks 2 for 1 dollah!”

“Sir, sir, we sell noodle and rice for 2 dollah and a half!”

“Sir, sir, we sell for 1 dollah and a half!”

All of a sudden, we have slashed the prices down by half, and still, there was no way we could decide easily. All their menus were identical, and here Wai San, clearly enjoying himself, started ‘playing’ with the drinks.

“Anyone can sell me 3 cans of drink for $1?”

At this point all the touts were like “No, cannot!”

I stopped Wai San from his fun – we still depended on these people for our food, and we really don’t want them to spit in our food or tamper with the portion. We decided to head to the restaurant of the lady who ‘approached’ us first, ending the entire bargaining scene.

Somehow it still disgusts me that having chosen their ‘restaurant’, they will still ‘offer’ their scarves or whatever goods they sell at their eatery as well. While we were eating, a couple of them tried to sell us some of the shirts on display, and there was this particular boy, whom I believe was more of a ‘freelancer’ than being associated with any of the eatery owners, who tried to sell us flutes.

As the three of us were eating ,he came by, stood next to me, and starting chanting Chinese phrases which I am very sure, he doesn’t understand a single word of it.

He started by offering flutes at 2 for a dollar, and when I said no, shook my head, he continued in his monotonous tone, much like chanting some sutra from some religious scripts, and with an expression so lifeless, he changed the price to 3 for 2 dollars. So basically, he increases the price when I say no?

The boy just stood there and continued chanting whatever Chinese phrases he knew. He left only when Wai San and Minh Hien left, and I stayed back to rest. I couldn’t continue the walk anymore at this point, and I just needed to sit down.

It was a pity that I missed out Preah Neak Poan, but then, I wouldn’t have enjoyed the walk if I forced myself too hard. As I sat at the eatery waiting for Minh Hien and Wai San to return, I took solace in the fact that while we paid US$6 for the meal which would cost US$13 had it not be for bargaining, the other foreigners around me were getting ripped off big time, for a meal that could hardly fill their stomachs.

Wai San and Minh Hien returned soon after; apparently it was a really small temple and I didn’t miss much by not going. We boarded up the tuk-tuk, and made our way to Eastern Mebon. This time I decided that the pain has subsided enough for me to bear with it, and I joined them in touring Eatern Mebon.

Left: Preah Neak Poan.

Pre Rup was up next, and it was a much larger establishment. It was really quite a majestic structure, and we took some time here, allowing the sun to toast us.

Right: Minh Hien and me at the top storey.

We finally reached Ta Prohm, the last attraction of the day for us. A lot has been written Ta Phrom, and how the strangling roots that wrap around the temples gives it an additional charm. The truth is that the roots are no longer free to ‘wreck’ the temples now, but rather, the ruin is now controlled, and only the largest trees are left in place.The roots and trees swallowing the temple does make Ta Phrom unique and different from the other temples that we have visited.

Top: Roots swallowing the temple.

We hit the Old Market in the evening after taking a short nap in the hotel. This is touristy section, and sometimes, it pays to keep on the touristy trail. Here, there were plenty of pubs and bars catered to the tourists, not to mention the cheap food along the street as well. We had noodles at US$1 per bowl and can drinks at 2 for US$1.

We took a walk along Pub Street and eventually found ourselves at the Temple Club, a bar recommended by lonely planet. Over here, we realised that our US$12 buffet was such a rip off - we got a pitcher of Angkor Beer for US$2.75 and an apsara dance show.

We headed back into the hotel, disgusted that between us, we have quite a bit of traveling experience and yet we fell for a tourist trap. Not only had we not bargained our meal prices, we realised that we didn't bargain for better hotel rates as well.

Summer '09, Cambodia Day 3, Part 2

2009-05-28T01:07:00.028+07:00

18th May 2009

Top: The stone faces at Bayon.

It wasn't the best time to visit Bayon, we soon realised. Restoration works was underway, and we couldn't even walk around it to view the bas-reliefs. We could only catch a portion of each panel, which didn't really satisfy my appetite.

We fell into another of the tourist trap. We 'bumped' into this Cambodian guy, who, in fairly good English, brought us from one place of the temple to another, while explaining certain features of the temple. It was enlightening, but at the end of his 'tour', he started to ask for money. We reluctantly part with US$1 - it was the smallest note we had in our pockets at that moment.

Left: Holes in the stones, which according to the 'guide', was due to sticks being stuck into them for transportation to the site of the temple.

The guide also mentioned something about the four sides of the faces representing compassion, love, sympathy, and one other which has slipped my mind.

Right: A well which we would have missed had the 'guide' not brought us there. Perhaps it is a well, perhaps it was a make-belief well which he told us to earn the tourist dollar. I find it hard to believe him that during the Khmer Rouge regime, bodies were dumped inside.

The gigantic faces of Bayon were all upon us as we toured the upper level. These faces supposedly bear a strong resemblance to Avalokiteshvara.

We headed for other temples after the heat at Bayon took almost all our energy away. The scorching sun was unbelievable, and water became a huge expense on us.

Left: A large statue of Buddha we passed by.

We passed by a huge statue of Buddha along the way, but we refused to offer any incense - it was another tourist trap as after accepting the joss sticks from the woman who was trying to push a few to you, you would have to donate money.

Top: The Three Buddhas with the temple of Baphuon behind us.

After Bayon, we walked along the stretch of ruins northwards, passing by Baphuon first, and taking a couple of photographs there. The lack of tourist there was explained by the fact that it was undergoing some sort of restoration works as well, and we were unable to climb the stairs at the temple.

Right: Terrace of the Elephants

We walked past the Terrace of the Elephants, a two and a half meter tall wall, 300 meters in length, with carvings of elephants and garudas, towards the Terrace of the Leper King.

The statue which gave it its name is now replaced by a replica, and draped with a cloth to hide the fact that it is sexless.

Left: The leper king.

We went to Preah Pithu after that, a collection of 5 small temples set in the area, before heading to Prasat Suor Prat, a collection of 12 laterite towers.

Right: Preah Pithu

Left: Prasat Suor Prat

It was said that these towers were used to determine the guilt of people - two parties involved would be made to sit in the towers until one would fall ill first. The one who fell ill first would be the guilty party.

We decided to head back to the hotel after this.Tired, exhausted, and dehydrated, we still had another event at night: that of an apsara dance show at a restaurant later in the evening.

Left: The traditional Apsara dance show.

The dinner, we all agreed later on, was another tourist trap that we fell into. At US$12 for the buffet, the food wasn't refilled after 8 PM, and although we filled our table with food before the show started, there wasn't any fruits left for us to grab when the show reached the ending stages.

Top: The last photograph at the restaurant before we left.

We dropped by the supermarket on the way, filling up our tuk-tuk with 8 bottles of water. It was easy for people to think that Minh Hien and I were a little drunk had they not known that we hadn't drank a single drop of alcohol that day. We were consumed by the tiredness that had set in way before dinner, and every single joke magnified itself ten fold, and we were actually laughing at the prices of the bottled water as we found cheaper ones as we moved along the shelves, eventually settling for US$0.30 per 1.5 liter bottle.

It was a day of satisfaction as not only had we seen the temples finally, it was a day of much laughter as well.

Summer '09, Cambodia Day 3, Part 1

2009-05-27T19:32:00.021+07:00

18th May 2009

It is extremely fun to tease and challenge Minh Hiens’ views on sharing a room, a bed or whatever with a guy, that we actually didn’t get as much sleep as we wanted to. We left at half past nine in the morning, after switching tuk-tuk driver for reasons unknown. It would be a long day today – we would cover Angkor Wat and the main attractions of Angkor Thom today.

Today's journey starts the exploration of the temples which I have long wanted to visit - its historical value is so rich and interesting, not to mention the fact that Angkor Wat was one of the nominees for the new 7 Wonders of the World.

Top: The 190 meters wide moat surrounding Angkor Wat.

Angkor Wat, which also means 'temple that is a city', was built from sandstone blocks. According to inscriptions, the construction of Angkor Wat involved 300 000 workers and 6000 elephants, but was never completed.

Left: Me, armed with a lonely planet book. Behind me is the library.

Angkor Wat is orientated towards the west, which symbolically refers to the direction of death. This led scholars to believe that Angkor Wat functioned as a tomb of some sort. However Vishnu, the Hindu deity with whom Suryavarman II, the king whom the temple was built for, identified with, was also frequently associated with the west, and hence, Angkor Wat was probably served as both a temple and a mausoleum for Suryavarman II.

Having read a little of Angkor, we turned to our right upon crossing the sandstone cross-way to walk through the bas-relief which unfolds itself in chronological order. In a counter-clockwise direction, the bas-reliefs tells of:

A) Battle of Kurekshetra

This gallery depicts the battle scene from the Hindu Mahabharata epic, in which the Kauravas and the Pandavas, from the North and South respectively, fights it out to the death. The polished black marble look of the panel is a result of pilgrims touching the carvings over the centuries.

Right: Battle of Kurekshetra

B) Army of Suryavarman II

This panel depicts Suryavarman II and his army on a truimphant battle march. In this panel, the army is fighting the Siamese army, distinct in their long head-dresses, skirts and tridents. Suravarman II is shaded by 15 parasols as depicted in the photograph on the right.

Right: Suryarvarman II

C) Heaven and Hell

This panel depicts the scene of 37 heavens and 32 hells. While those in the heavens live in beautiful mansions, served by women and attendants, those in hell suffer the punishments that resembles torture.

Right: The 18-armed Yama, or the judge of the dead, sitting on a bull.

D) Churning of the Ocean of Milk

This is the most famous section of the bas-relief, which unfortunately is undergoing restoration works. The panels were however rather clear, but of course, nothing beats seeing the real stuff. The panel depicts 88 asuras, or demons on the left and 92 devas, or gods, churning up the ocean to extract the elixir of immortality. The ending is always the same: good triumphs evil, and the gods won.

Right: Churning of the Ocean of Milk

E) Elephant Gate

F) Vishnu Conquers the Demons

G) Krishna and the Demon King

H) Battle of the Gods and the Demons

This panel depicts the scene of battle between the 21 gods of the Brahmanic pantheon and various demons. Shiva (left) rides on a hamsa, or sacred goose, while Vishnu (right) rides a garuda, or half-man half-bird creatures.

I) Battle of Lanka

We walked past the Gallery of a Thousand Buddhas first before heading up to the second and third storeys. The gallery doesn't house a thousand Buddhas, but it once used to house hundreds of Buddha images before the war. The remaining ones are those left behind not stolen or removed.

Left: The remaining sculptures and images.

We headed to the third storey. The central tower represents Mount Meru, surrounded by several smaller peaks. The journey from the main entrance to the top storey is supposed to depict the journey back to the first age of creation of the universe.

Top: The tour guide and the central tower in the background. It is 31 meters above the the third level and 55 meters above the ground.

We left soon after to answer the call of our growling stomachs. It was, as usual, a hot and humid afternoon, and we were in need of food and water.

Top: Taking a photograph at the pool before lunch.

Summer '09, Cambodia, Day 2

2009-05-26T15:09:00.013+07:00

17th May 2009

Top: The Royal Palace.

The long bus trip from Phnom Penh to Siem Reap was supposed to take 6 hours, but it actually took about 8 hours. After a quick 2-3 minutes of taking photographs at the Royal Palace in the morning, we got a tuk-tuk to send us to the bus station, and moments later, find ourselves aboard a double-decker bus, with its lower deck stuffed with luggage and even motorbikes.

The ride was rather uneventful, and besides a toilet break and a lunch break, we were always on the road. Stepping out into the sweltering heat at 3.30 pm, we took up the offer of the tuk-tuk driver holding up Wai San’s name, ignoring the one holding up mine. We actually committed to two tuk-tuk drivers beforehand at Phnom Penh, and although I feel bad ignoring one of them, I still feel that we had to do this as we could not be certain that they would actually stick to their promise.

Well, nonetheless, we proceeded to one of the hotels and checked in for US$5 a night per person. I felt we could, perhaps, bargain for a discount, but wasn’t too sure if this was the normal of doing things. We left it at that, as after inspecting the room briefly, found that we had almost the same facilities as the hotel we stayed in Phnom Penh – strong air-conditioning, a TV with plenty of international channels and a refrigerator in good working condition.

After paying for the 4 nights of stay, everyone went to unload the baggage in the room, and there, another issue cropped up. When I inspected the room, I noticed that there were two beds, and it would be rather small for me to share one with Wai San, and a tad too big for Minh Hien alone. I had the initial idea that one of us could share the bed with her, or that we could join the two beds together. However at this juncture, Minh Hien balked at the idea of sharing the bed either ways, and that her conservative upbringing would not permit her to do this. She wanted to switch to a larger room or get an additional mattress, but since the former would cost her US$5 a night more – no, we are not sharing the price of conservatism equally in this case – and the latter would cost her US$2 a night more, she eventually relented. Three on a bed it shall be.

Left: Angkor Wat along the way.

Hastily we proceeded to Phnom Bakheng – about 400 meters south of Angkor Thom, and one of the recommended spot to catch the sunset. It was our first encounter with these touts at the temples, most of whom are just small children, peddling stuff from post cards to bracelets. Although I find them significantly friendlier than any touts I have met in Vietnam, we did what every foreigner did – just decline them and walk on.

We didn’t have any trouble finding the way up to the peak of Phnom Bakheng, but what did trouble us were the dark clouds blanketing the area. We just followed the tourists making their way up – perhaps we will take shelter at some of the temples later on, but right now, we just didn’t want to miss too much of the sunset.

Left: Elephant rides up to the top at US$20.

The peak did present us a pretty sight. The sun could be seen so clearly and it was no wonder it was filled with tourists. The temple mountain, built in the shape of a pyramid of seven levels including the base and the summit, with its five sandstone sanctuaries that shaped out the temple was a majestic sight to behold.

Top: Dark clouds setting in.

Phnom Bakheng is in fact, a symbolic representation of Mount Meru, home of the Hindu Gods. The seven levels represent the seven heavens, and each terrace contains 12 towers, representing the 12 year cycle of Jupiter.

Top: Wai San and me reading up about Phnom Bakheng.

The rain came soon after. We shared a small tower with another 2 Chinese tourists and eventually, it swelled to 7 people in the small tower, perhaps about 1.5 meters by 1.5 meters. It was a real tight squeeze, not to mention the rain which began to leak through the stones, rendering the center of the tower ‘unusable’. The lightning made it rather dangerous to leave the place. We were eventually chased out by the attendants however – they claimed that it was ‘closing time’.

As we left the area with the rain beating down on us, I actually felt we were risking our lives. With the lightning and all, we were all essential ‘lightning rods’, as Phnom Bakheng actually stood atop a hill. We raced down cautiously, and finally made our way to the tuk-tuk driver.

The heavy downpour made decisions easy. We had dinner in the hotel, and albeit a little expensive, with my tom yam soup and steamed rice at a cost of US$4, I felt it was probably the best I had tasted so far in Cambodia. The warm soup was very soothing in the relatively cold rain, and it was another day of long chats.

Somehow these chats with Minh Hien always seem to intertwine humor with varying degree of serious issues, but despite English being her second language, Minh Hien never fails to inject some really insightful views in the topics we drift into.

Then again, Minh Hien never looked 23 to me. (Ha-ha)

Summer '09, Cambodia, Day 1

2009-05-26T13:15:00.039+07:00

16th May 2009

Left: The Cambodian customs. It was one of the most ridiculous customs I have went through. Instead of getting tourists to line up at the counter that is done internationally, our passports were all collected and stacked up for the customs officer to stamp. Following that, there will be people holding up the stamped passports and shouting out the names. Not only were pronunciations wrong at times, it would be almost impossible to hear your name if you were at the back of the crowd.

The bumpy ride to Phnom Penh ensured that we got almost no sleep at all. It wasn’t plain bumpy, but we even had to crouch down as we were lifted into the air when the bus hit the uneven roads at a ridiculously high speed. If the driver didn’t cherish the lives of his passenger, the least he could was to take care of his bus.

Right: The three of us on the bus ride.

Despite not having booked any accommodation or arm ourselves with anything besides a sense of uncertainty and excitement, there wasn’t much of a hassle as we took up the offer of a tuk-tuk driver. He rode us around, first to the bus station to buy tickets to Siem Reap for tomorrow, followed by a hotel, then to the Toul Sleng Museum, and lastly, the Choeung Ek Genocidal Center, one of the killing fields, for a sum of USD11. Perhaps we were ripped off a little, but I am not too sure if we could have done anything else as I do not see any taxis or forms of public transport around.

We had very little time to move around as we had only a few hours effectively to see as much of Phnom Penh as we can. We rushed to the Toul Sleng Museum after unpacking at the hotel, a really comfortable outfit for USD5 per person.

The Toul Sleng Genocide Museum is a former high school that was transformed into the notorious Security Prison 21 (S-21) by the Khmer Rouge regime, and to me, a sad story told in vivid pictures and signboards in the compound.

Top: One of the buildings at the Toul Sleng Museum.

Top: Photographs of people who have been through these gates of hell.

Top: The chin-up bar where prisoners were hung upside down till the pass off, and then dunked into the small pots of filthy water to wake them up.

Top: Concentration camp rules, with the tombs of 12 inmates in the background.

Concentration camp rules:

1. You must answer accordingly to my question. Don’t turn them away.
2. Don’t try to hide the facts by making pretexts this and that, you are strictly prohibited to contest me.
3. Don’t be a fool for you are a chap who dare to thwart the revolution.
4. You must immediately answer my questions without wasting time to reflect.
5. Don’t tell me either about your immoralities or the essence of the revolution.
6. While getting lashes or electrification you must not cry at all.
7. Do nothing, sit still and wait for my orders. If there is no order, keep quiet. When I ask you to do something, you must do it right away without protesting.
8. Don’t make pretext about Kampuchea Krom in order to hide your jaw of traitor.
9. If you don’t follow all the above rules, you shall get many many lashes of electric wire.
10. If you disobey any point of my regulations you shall get either ten lashes or five shocks of electric discharge.

S21: The Khmer Rouge Killing Machine walks one through the terror that has occurred at this prison through the eyes of two Toul Sleng survivors, and I attach a clip of the documentary from youtube here, whereby one of the survivor, Vann Nanth, talks to the ex-guards of S21.

We were whisked to the Choeung Ek Genocidal Center after about 30 minutes of touring Toul Sleng Museum, one of the more famous sites of the Killing Fields. Choeung Ek was the site of a former orchard and Chinese graveyard, approximately 17 km south of Phnom Penh. Here, about 20 000 people were executed and murdered. The 129 mass graves and about 8000 skulls at the site bear testimony to the inhumane crime carried out by the Ultra Communist Khmer Rouge Regime between the years of 1975 – 1979.

Choeung Ek is essentially a memorial now, with a Buddhist stupa greeting the visitor at the main gate. It houses more than 5000 skulls and the clear glass acrylic walls allow one to see the smashed and shattered skulls. The pits throughout the vicinity were sites where bodies were exhumed, and signboards marked the areas where various types of brutality were carried out against the people.

Top: The stupa which houses the remains retrieved from this killing field.

Top: Mass grave of 450 victims.

Top: Pits that litter the area. Bodies were exhumes from these pits.

Top: The 'Magic Tree'. A loudspeaker was hung from this tree and broadcasted other sounds to mask the groans of the victims as they were executed.

We ended the site seeing here. We returned to the hotel and after washing up a little, went out in search of food, eventually settling for a rather pricey eatery. Taking a walk to the Royal Palace and feeling a little rueful that we didn’t have more time to visit other places in the capital, we tried to make the best use of the time taking photographs at the Royal Palace, and for me, gulping down a cool Angkor beer.

Summer '09, Vietnam, Day 4

2009-05-25T21:41:00.004+07:00

15th May 2009

The plan of waking up at the ungodly hour of 6 am was shelved, thankfully, as we were actually privileged enough to share a car with one of Minh Hien’s father’s friend. This would lower our traveling expenses and it also solved a lot of traveling issues.

Upon reaching Ho Chi Minh City however, we were dismayed to realize that all buses to Cambodia were full. Apparently all the Cambodians were returning to Cambodia for some event, and the buses were fully booked.

This presented me with an opportunity to meet up with my Vietnamese ex-colleagues at Ascendas, and I promptly made arrangements to meet up while we were having lunch at Ben Thanh market. I was quite hesitant initially as to whether to let Minh Hien meet up with them, as I know many of them to be ‘players’ – a trait that probably developed in them as they rose up to where they are now. In my opinion, these people are probably one of the best in their fields, and as they aim for higher rungs in life, women became just another aspect of life to be conquered. That said however, these people are gentlemen indeed, and I decided that Minh Hien should meet them after all.

It was a great feeling meeting up with all of them indeed. Perhaps I was a little too noisy in the small office, and we agreed to meet at a coffee house along Ngo Duc Ke later on.

It was a day of meeting up with friends, and after the meeting with my ex-colleagues ended, Minh Hien made arrangements to meet up with her one of her FYP group member, who is doing a little traveling in Vietnam.

Just as Eric met Minh Hien in NUS before, I actually know one the friends of one the guy in the group who was traveling with Li Ren. I met him in Stockholm during Easter last year, and as the saying goes, the world is really small.

Li Ren and his friends had to leave really soon, and as they rushed through their dinner, we ate at a more relaxed pace and bid farewell to them soon after. We headed back to our hotel, where – I am still quite disappointed when I think of what she said – Minh Hien told us that she was considering withdrawing all her CPF after her three years of work at KPMG to return to Vietnam, effectively ending her stint here in Singapore.

Well, if you ask her about it now, she will tell you that one, it is only an option, and two, she might not exercise it at all. To me, I still find it shocking that she’d even considered it as an option. I think family and friends might draw one back to their own country, but I always believe – and I think it is very hard to disagree with me on this – that the standard of living in Singapore is so much better than Vietnam, and why should anyone who has lived and survived in Singapore for 7 years leave for a place with a lower standard of living? Does one not deserve a place with better air quality, a less rowdy and chaotic traffic environment, and better access to other parts of the world?

Of course, life isn’t always that easy – the equation isn’t one that can be derived with a snap of the fingers – but still, I hope that there is something or perhaps someone in Singapore that she will miss when leaves one day.

The discussion raged on while Wai San dozed off, and eventually we stopped the debate as well. It would be Phnom Penh tomorrow finally, and we only had a few hours of sleep before we would hit the roads for a possibly 7 to 8 hour journey on the road.

Summer '09, Vietnam, Day 3

2009-05-25T20:05:00.016+07:00

14th May 2009

Reaching the first tourist attraction at 11 am wasn’t the most ideal, and we told upon arrival at the foot of Small Mountain that the ‘Arms of Jesus’ would be closed at 11.30 AM and would only re-open at 2.30 PM. However it was probably worth it, as the taste of the well-known dish of Banh Khot was still in my mouth and a local dish like that was probably not easy to find given the language barrier that existed between us and the common folks here.

Left: The 'White Palace'

Minh Hien brought us to the ‘White Palace’ or Bạch Dinh along Trần Phú Street instead. I switched to being Minh Hien’s pillion passenger at this point as Wai San wasn’t confident of going uphill with an extra 60 kg load behind him. Perhaps there was some male chauvinism at work, but sometimes I feel a little embarrassed that Minh Hien is ferrying me all the time; it should have been the other way round.

Right: Minh Hien next to a unused cannon which was once used to beef up the fortress.

Situated approximately 30m above sea level, this place was the residences of many officials who have overseen the defense and governance of Vietnam at various times in history. The French governor of Indochina, Paul Dourmer, had this villa built in 1898 and named it after his daughter. ‘Villa Blanche’ has, over the years, became a summer residence for other Indochina-French governors and Vietnamese officials as well, such as Ngo Dinh Diem and Nguyen Van Thieu.

Left: Ceramics housed in clear, transparent shelves.

We visited the museum in the villa, housing Chinese ceramics and antiques collected from a shipwreck off the shore of Vũng Tàu. The guide there played host to us, explaining the origin of the antiques and the stories behind them, while Minh Hien took on the role of a translator.

Top: Minh Hien and Wai San climbing up a tree. I took many photos of them as they climbed up, which unfolds quite neatly to show that Minh Hien was clearly the better 'monkey' here.

We headed for the Vũng Tàu Lighthouse after that. Initially built on the lower peak of Nui Lon Mountain, or Big Mountain in 1907, it was rebuilt to the higher peak of the mountain in 1911 with a diameter of 3 meters and a height of 180 meters. We explored a little of the surrounding areas, eventually quitting the exploration when a couple of furious and hostile looking dogs starting barking at us.

It was lunch at Minh Hien’s house later, and probably the last meal we would have at her place since we have decided to have dinner outside later in the day. Meals at her house are simple affairs, and nowhere near anything in Singapore, where we view meals as an event. It is no wonder that many foreigners have actually said that Singaporeans live to eat.

Climbing the Nui Nho Mountain at 2.30 PM in the sweltering heat wasn’t the best feeling in the world, but Wai San had to catch it anyway. It would be my second visit to the Kito Statue and probably Minh Hien’s tenth visit. I had made a previous entry with regards to this statue, and there is no need for another introduction to this structure with 133 steps of stairs.

Top: The view from the arms of Jesus.

After dwelling around the area until about 5 PM, we headed out for more food. This time round I rode the bike with Minh Hien as the pillion passenger and I started to feel more confident on the bike. Or perhaps everyone around could see I was still a novice and they avoided me, but I would like to think that I am getting more comfortable with the two wheel machine.

We got talking over few dishes of local Vietnamese delicacies, including one of my favorites - the spring rolls which Wai San said had too much ‘raw grass’ in it. Perhaps talk got a little too serious, and Minh Hien seemed a little depressed after that. Some Singaporeans might call the expression she wore at the Back Beach which she brought us to later as ‘sian’, but I think she seemed more in a state of shock. I wouldn’t comment more on this, but I think we have shown here a different side of Singaporeans – alter-egos of us which we take so much pain to hide at times.

Top: Minh Hien in a state of shock, and perhaps disappointment as well.

I believe her mood picked up later on as we dined in KFC later on. Despite the rather steep prices of food here, Wai San made it all worth it with another souvenir – a mug with a KFC logo printed on it.

I rode on Minh Hien’s motorbike once more. This time round it was, perhaps, slightly safer as I wasn’t under the influence of any alcohol, but still, I felt a bit tense riding on the not-so-empty roads at this time of the night. It was back to another coffee house, but we didn’t spend too much time here though, and calling it a day at about 10.30 pm.It would be Ho Chi Minh City tomorrow followed by Phnom Penh soon after, and for me, the precise objective of this trip.

Summer '09, Vietnam, Day 2

2009-05-24T01:16:00.057+07:00

13th May 2009

Minh Hien dropped by our hotel at 7.30 AM, with the plan of reaching the Bến Xe Miền Đông at about 9, to catch the bus to Vũng Tàu at about 10 AM, and having lunch at her place at about 12 PM. Or course, that was the ideal scenario, but in reality, everything was pushed back by about 2 hours.

Minh Hien came to our room, fell asleep while Wai San and I took turns washing up and packing our bags. We walked to the bus station at Ben Thanh and we were pushed up on board the bus when Minh Hien asked whether the bus went to BX Miền Đông – a typical gesture from the Vietnamese that I have to admit I actually detested. We missed the stop at BX Miền Đông, meaning we had to take another bus in the opposite direction to BX Miền Đông, a maneuver which cost us quite a bit of time and a harrowing experience as a motorbike almost crashed into Minh Hien when she was about to cross the road.

The bus ride was actually quite smooth for us though. Minh Hien bought the bus tickets and we promptly made our way to the bus, and it left soon after. The journey was about 2 hours – approximately the time it would take me from my house in Pasir Ris to NTU.

We took a taxi to Minh Hien’s house after alighting at some place which Minh Hien communicated to the driver, and we arrived at some old style cluster of houses in the middle – well not exactly middle but more like at the edge – of a forested area which was very family orientated. Minh Hien’s house is actually connected to her Uncle-in-law’s house and her aunt’s house.

Right: Minh Hien's house.

Left: Me in the spacious hostel room.

After lunch, we took a ride to the hotel which Minh Hien had her father booked for us. At 150,000 VND or about S$7.50 per person a night, it was a real bargain – good air-conditioning, spacious room and a TV with plenty of international channels.

Perhaps the only downside was the translucent door, which was quite disturbing especially if you had a guest in the room as it was actually rather clear, and also the poor drainage system which led to flooding of the toilet and a little of the room as the water leaked out of the door. That said though, we were more than pleased with the accommodation. It was really one of the nicest hostel rooms I have checked into in Asia.

Minh Hien kept her promise – she taught me how to ride the motorbike. Admittedly I was a little afraid initially – I felt that the throttle was really sensitive, and I was quite unused to the weight. But after a toilet trip, I was back on the bike, and in 15 minutes, Minh Hien actually rode pillion on the motorbike. Of course, it was within the small compound in the vicinity of the hostel, and I dare not venture beyond on the roads. Wai San, on the other hand, is armed with a Class 2B license from Singapore and had navigated the streets of Hanoi on the motorbike, so he found it quite natural to ride the significantly less crowded roads in Vũng Tàu.

We slacked around in the room watching MTVs while waiting for our air-conditioning unit to be fixed. After the air-conditioning unit was fixed, we went back to Minh Hien’s house briefly before setting out to tour the area once more. We went back to Minh Hien’s house to have dinner, heading out again to Fanny’s Ice Cream this time round. We chatted the day away, letting the wind ruffle our hair while we touched on both the serious and silly issues, allowing the glowing worm to illuminate my sinh to thap cam along the way. Wai San killed it soon after though, by pushing it deeper into the thick fruit juice, making the drink look more mysterious with a glow visible through the pink of it.

Minh Hien allowed me to ride her motorbike back, but in retrospect, it was rather foolish of me and rather brave of her to ride pillion. Not only had I only 15 minutes of experience on the bike prior to this, I had three cans of Saigon beer during dinner. It probably shocked the motorbike attendants a little as I actually kicked in to gear 1 and squeezed the throttle while Minh Hien was explaining some stuff to me and Wai San was actually reversing his bike into me.

We cruised along the rather empty roads quite well, until we had to actually make a U-turn, and I actually knocked into Wai San’s back wheel as he was turning. While he wobbled a little regaining stability, I squeezed the brakes and I thought I heard Minh Hien exclaimed a little.

Right: Wai San cruising along the road.

Ah, the excitement of riding on 15 minutes of experience and three cans of pure Saigon alcohol courage.

The ride back to the hostel was smooth, and we knocked out pretty soon. We would scale the statue of Jesus tomorrow and probably visit the “White Palace” and the Vũng Tàu Lighthouse as well.

Summer '09, Vietnam, Day 1

2009-05-23T16:44:00.017+07:00

12th May 2009

After seeing the price of S$40 for one way to Ho Chi Minh City from Kuala Lumpur doubling in

just a few days of hesitation from me, I decided to take the trip down to Vietnam and Cambodia with Wai San from Singapore instead. The plan to go to KL before Vietnam was scrapped as I learnt much later that it was impossible to meet Hooi Ying and Jessie, hence it was a trip to Vietnam followed by Cambodia before flying back home.

The trip to Vietnam was such a smooth one this time around: Not only was I prepared what to expect at Ho Chi Minh City, Minh Hien, a Vietnamese who studied in NUS was picking us up from the airport. However it was actually my experienced that triumphed though, as I introduced her to the 3000 VND bus trip that will take us down to Ben Thanh Market from the domestic airport, saving us at least 70 000 VND were we to take the taxi to District 1.

Minh Hien’s help cannot be underestimated in any way though. She introduced us to a hotel where she stayed the last time she went backpacking with Shi Hao and Ying Xin, and the lady could still remember her, resulting in lower room rates for us.

Top: Minh Hien, me and Wai San outside the hotel.

Having touched down at 1.50 PM and having so much stuff to shop for, we didn’t take much of a break in the hotel before we set off again. We had lunch at Lam’s Café – a place I got to know pretty well from my six month stay in Ho Chi Minh City last year. We took a long walk to Tax Center to stock up on toiletries next, as toiletries were cheaper in Vietnam than Singapore. It was shopping for shirts after that as I didn’t bring enough – on purpose actually – at Saigon Square.

Left: Acoustic Bar

Since we had only one day in Ho Chi Minh City, I insisted on bringing Wai San and Minh Hien to the Acoustic Bar, a favorite among the foreigners here and overseas Vietnamese. In all honesty I actually feel that the music and atmosphere here is probably better than Wala Wala, not to mention the significantly lower prices for food and drinks. It was my favorite place in Ho Chi Minh City when I was here during my internship in Ascendas, and I think it still is.

The music was, as usual, still great, and there were a lot of fresh faces this time round. There were a couple of Filipino singers and another few Vietnamese whom I hadn’t seen before. I was pretty glad that I knew all the songs they were singing, and no Vietnamese song was actually sung during the session. Minh Hien, on the other hand, almost dozed off at one point, although she will probably vehemently deny it. It was hard to pinpoint whether the songs were unfamiliar to her, thus boring her to sleep or whether she started the day early. It was perhaps a combination of both, but in any case, Wai San and I had a great time and she warmed up to it later as well.

We took a couple of photographs on the stage after the band ended the day at about 11 pm, probably prompted by the thinning crowd as it was a Monday after all, and the majority of them probably had work early in the day tomorrow. It took quite a bit of debating between us whether to pluck up the courage to ask them if we could actually handle their instruments on the stage, but I started the ball rolling by asking the guitarist if I could hold his guitar on the stage to take a couple of shots, to which he readily agreed.

It was followed by a frenzy of photo taking, with Wai San and Minh Hien taking up their positions and getting one of the bar assistants to take photos for us.

I thought it was a great way to wrap up the day – not only have we gotten what we set out to achieve, I have always wanted to take these photos last time I was in Ho Chi Minh City.

We left at 12 midnight, dropping Minh Hien off at her place before we headed to our hotel. It would be a bus ride to Vũng Tàu tomorrow, and we should get a bit of rest before the bumpy journey to Vũng Tàu.

KL Open 2008, Part 2

2008-12-25T18:42:00.013+07:00

21st December 2008

The end of the tournament saw me getting 10th place while Kien Wei got 4th place. Minh Hien did get her draw with a 1933-rated opponent, so I think she should be able to get her FIDE rating finally.

Left: Bukit Jalil Stadium.

Wai San returned to Singapore after Hooi Ying told him that she wasn't free to meet up with him in Penang, capping a rather disappointing trip for him as he didn't get to visit Hard Rock KL. On the other hand, Dawn, me and Kien Wei made plans to go to Hard Rock KL - this time, we would enter before 11 pm and try to hold on to our seats till the bar closes.

Our search for a hostel for one additional night proved to be rather interesting also. While we finally did find a hostel, their policy did seem a little dubious. A single room would get you two beds, although only only 1 person is allowed in. Kien Wei and me got a double room, which - no surprise here - has beds for 4 people. Dawn got a single room - and she was so freaked out at having to spend the night in a windowless room with an empty extra bed. Perhaps her imagination was rich, but nonetheless, she actually looked extremely cute when she is frightened.

Minh Hien decided to go back to Singapore at 11.30 pm. Her FYP was bogging her down for most parts of the tournament, and I am sure that it took up quite a bit of her energy as well. Hence, it was just me, Kien Wei and Dawn to Hard Rock KL.

Top: The live band at Hard Rock KL. The band was not as good as the one we missed the previous day.

Top: Kien Wei was almost knocked out after a few beers.

The night blitzed past, and after Rider's on the Storm and three jugs of Skol, we headed back to the hostel at 2 am. It was somewhere in the taxi that we realised that the staff took back the stirrers which we took out of our glasses and intended to keep it as souvenirs - 10 minutes too late, perhaps.

This will probably be my last trip out of Singapore before school starts in 2009, save for maybe a few day trips to JB for seafood dinners and half-priced haircuts at Reds Hair Salon. I have been running around abroad for the entire year, and although there is this reluctance to resume the normal hectic lifestyle of a university student in Singapore, I guess that the escape cannot last forever.

But who knows? Maybe I will find a way.

KL Open 2008, Part 1

2008-12-25T17:57:00.007+07:00

15th December 2008

Top: Masjid Jamek, one of the oldest mosque in KL, which we pass by everyday.

Malaysia is the host of the 14th ASEAN University Games this year, hence it was no wonder that Bukit Jalil Stadium was filled with stalls selling AUG 2008 souvenirs. There wasn't much of a crowd there though, but we encountered great difficulties in finding the Commonwealth Hall, the venue for the tournament. Nobody seemed to know where it was, and we were not aided by the fact that there were so many stadium there, that an innocent sounding 'indoor stadium' brought us nowhere for the first hour of the search.

We did find Commonwealth Hall eventually. It was tucked in a corner of the entire area, away from the main road.

Besides the one hour delay for the first round, everything went along smoothly for the next few days. Kien Wei and me joined the Challengers section, while Minh Hien sought after her FIDE rating in the Open section.

Left: The tournament hall.

We met up with Pong and Tops during the free day outing. While Pong was a girl Wai San got to know during his conference in Thailand last year, Tops was Pong's friend whom Pong brought along. Although we did get to meet new people, we were all disappointed by the fact that Dawn was rejected from Hard Rock KL due to her age - she was three months shy of the legal age to enter Hard Rock KL past 11 pm. Jessie and Mei Feng - the liaison officer of NUS in this year's GACC - actually drove us to Hard Rock KL after waiting for us for two hours. I felt really bad that it happened, and the legal age thingy didn't make things better - they didn't even try to enter Hard Rock KL.

Top: From left, me, Dawn, Minh Hien, Kien Wei, Pong, Tops, Wai San and Wern Jian.

Results wise, we were doing OK at the half way mark. While I had 3.5 points out of a total possible 5, Kien Wei had a score of 4.

KL Open 2008 (Day 0)

2008-12-25T16:48:00.010+07:00

14th December 2008

The original plan of meeting Kien Wei and Minh Hien at Puduraya had to be scrapped, as I woke up at 10 am only. Actually I had expected this to happen, so prior to this, I actually sent Kien Wei all the details he needed to bring Minh Hien and himself to the hostel that I have booked for all of us.

Jessie's house is an impeccably clean and neat two storey semi-detached house filled with warmth and laughter. Her friendly 14 year old sister and adorable 10 year old brother made it sad for me to leave her house for KL. If I were Shi Hao or Wai San, I would probably try to stay for a day more. However I had to reach KL by evening, so I had to depart in the afternoon.

Top: Meei Yin, me and Jessie's brother, whose name I cannot remember.

I took a taxi with Meei Yin to Larkin bus terminal at about 1.30 pm. Buying a bus ticket to KL that departs at 2.30 pm, I had ample to explore the Larkin bus terminal for once.

I reached Puduraya at about 7.30 pm and headed straight for the hostel. It was the same hostel that I went to during the HPAIR conference in August this year, and I had no problems recognising the road leading to the hostel.

I met up with Kien Wei and Minh Hien for dinner at about 8 pm before retiring for the night. I cannot believe that I will be playing another 9 games of chess after the mentally exhausting GACC, but I have hopes that this trip will bring some rewards.

KL Open 2008 (The day before Day 0)

2008-12-25T16:01:00.008+07:00

13th December 2008

A week after returning from Kuala Lumpur (KL), my brother and I hit the streets again, this time to Johor Bahru (JB).

In a way, this was like a sequel to GACC XIII, as we - or more appropriately, Wai San and Shi Hao - made plans to meet up with Jessie and Meei Yin, both of who lives in Johor. We would stay over at Jessie's house for a night before I head off to Kuala Lumpur for another chess competition, something I decided to take part in in the midst of GACC as I sought to pick up my form after my dismal performance in GACC.

Wai San's prediction of a 2 hour long wait at the customs at JB came true, and this time, we chose the queue nearest to the door in the middle of the small cramped hall - the air coming in from that door was vital in keeping our respiratory system functioning in good order.

Actually it was far longer than 2 hours. Arriving at the customs at 12 pm, we got our passports stamped at 2.30 pm only, although we did allow a Malaysian girl and her boyfriend cut us. Apparently her boyfriend has seen me before in Pulau Tekong during our Army days, and although it seems more like how he came to pick this particular place in the queue to cut, my brother and I gave in - after all, she was pretty good looking and chatty enough to keep everybody's spirits up.

The air coming in from the door, the conversations that we were engaged in, and the thought of half-priced seafood across the border kept all of us going - A Caucasian guy gave up after queueing up for 2 hours and another girl fainted.

The long wait wasn't the only rather exceptional event. It started pouring when we crossed the border, and at the end of a particular escalator, a stampede nearly occurred. As the shelter only came as far as the mouth of the escalator, some rather inconsiderate people started standing at the mouth of the escalator waiting for the rain to cease. The buildup occurred in seconds - and an elderly man lost his footing in the midst of it. Thankfully the shouts from the back woke these inconsiderate people up, and most of them chose to run off in the rain to ease the congestion.

Was it poor planning of the layout on the part of the Malaysian authorities, or was it just plain stupidity on the part of the people, or both? I didn't bother to think - I dashed in the rain, making a beeline for City Square, where we were already late for our appointment with Jessie and Meei Yin.

Our two new friends joined us for lunch, although - I felt rather bad - that the conversations were mostly owned by Jessie, Meei Yin, Wai San and me.

The day whizzed by, and after the hearty lunch and a disappointing sitting of The Day the Earth Stood Still, we waited for the arrival of Shi Hao for the much anticipated seafood dinner.

We went to Jessie's house to unload all our backpacks first - I carried my one week worth of clothes all around so far, inviting a few stares during the day - before Jessie's parents drove us to an Orang Asli seafood eatery next to the sea.

Top: From left, Shi Hao, Meei Yin, Jessie and me. Wai San was the camera man.

It was the best seafood I had so far in Malaysia. What a difference it can make having a local around! Over a meal of fried sotong, or squid, chili crab, clams, crayfish, kang kong, coconuts, coke and lots of laughter, the 2.5 hour wait at the customs and getting drenched by the sudden rain was all worth it.

We went back to Jessie's house after dinner, chatting among ourselves during the night and having a discussion about Doraemon with Jessie's adorable 10 year old brother before hitting the sack.

GACC XIII: Ace of Thirteen (Day 7)

2008-12-12T02:05:00.022+07:00

5th December 2008

Top: The last team photo in the playing hall.

After dropping two half points - I drew two games when I was clearly winning - I finally won a game which, according to Fritz 11, was an unsound sacrifice on my part. Actually it didn't need Fritz 11 to reach that conclusion - Alex reached that conclusion after seeing my game for about 2 seconds.

It was, in a strange way, a kind of relief that the tournament ended. Our hopes of securing a third place overall was dashed when Andrean drew his game and Alex lost on time, not forgetting that the Filipino playing GM Shojate won his game, and so, all we looked forward to was the closing ceremony, where make-up and perhaps, switching from glasses to contact lenses would really transform some of the girls to stars of the night - just as it did a year ago with Meei Yin.

We finished 4th overall, with a 2.5 point gap to tie for second place. It was a disappointment, really, as my dismal performance this year was no where near last year. I scored a point lower this year, not to mention the fact that I failed to convert my chances when it was presented to me.

Nonetheless, the last thing we could do at this point was to live up to our name during the closing ceremony. Last year everyone was chatting and taking photographs with us at the back of the dining hall, and I think our table was empty for a good part of the night last year. I was hoping that this year we could have as much fun as we did last year.

As usual, the Singaporeans were the ones who did things their own way once more. We went to Manhattan Fish Market at Midvalley Megamall for lunch and then to Legend Hotel on our own, when most of the participants took the buses provided by UM to Legend Hotel. By taking our own transport, we gave ourselves 2.5 hour more of shopping time - a time we spent buying gifts for our liaison officers who helped us a great deal throughout our entire stay in KL.

We reached Legend Hotel about half an hour early. After settling down on our table, we soon wasted no time in taking photographs. From my experience in the past editions of GACC, there would never be enough time to take photographs after dinner, and if one were to start, it should start even before dinner.

Top: The two female stars in team NTU, Dawn and Liu Yang.

Top: The three female stars from Team Singapore, Liu Yang, Dawn and Minh Hien, a Vietnamese studying in NUS.

As with the shocking transformation which we witness last year with Meei Yin, this year, it had to be Hooi Ying.

Hooi Ying was the liaison officer of Team India, but as she joined us for our free day outing and most of the time, was hanging out with Yang Jin, our liaison officer, she interacted quite a fair bit with us. A pleasant looking and easy going girl, I think she could easily have been our unofficial liaison officer as well.

Top: Wai San, Hooi Ying and me.

In my opinion, Hooi Ying looked stunning in the Indian costume when she came over to our table. Han Keong, Wai San and me all wanted to take a photo with her while she still had that Indian costume on her, although her initial reaction was no. She wanted to take photos only after her performance was over and she could put back her formal attire. However she gave in - without much persuasion needed, actually - and there was a flurry of lights flashing from cameras soon after.

Have we picked out the star? Definitely, I think.

Top: Familiar face? Yes, its the same Jellyn from GACC XII.

After donning the traditional Vietnamese ao dai, Minh Hien finally won the award for being the best dressed participant. The second star of the night? Most definitely too, in my opinion.

The night ended faster than everyone wished and expected. This is the last GACC outing for both Shi Hao and Wai San, and probably mine as well, as my final year next year might see a very punishing schedule for me. However all good things must come to an end, and we bade farewell to GACC XIII.

TEAM NTU

GACC XIII: Ace of Thirteen (Day 5)

2008-12-11T22:35:00.039+07:00

3rd December 2008

The free day outing saw an almost identical itinerary as last year, except for the inclusion of the Muzium Negara Kula Lumpur, Menara Kuala Lumpur, Mines Wonderland Theme park and supper at Kajang.

With alcohol keeping us till 3 am in the morning, it was little wonder that all of us struggled to get up on time. We left Hilton PJ at about 8.15 am, reaching 2nd College at about 8.45 am. Still, much thanks to our experience, we knew we were not late - we still had to wait till about 9 am for another bus to pick us up.

Top: From left, Peter, Thanh, Hui Beng, me, Shi Hao, Dawn, Alex, Hooi Ying and Yang Jin. The carriage behind us was the steam locomotive first put into service in 1921. By the time it was withdrawn from service from the East Coast mainline in Kelantan, it had covered about 1.5 million rail miles.

The first stop was Muzium Negara Kuala Lumpur. Located at Jalan Damansara, the musuem offers insights into the history, political developments, culture, economy, arts and the flora and fauna of Malaysia.

We departed for the next stop soon after. In all honesty, the itinerary for the free day outing was too packed, and it was manifested by the rush and little time we could spend at every stop.

We visited Royal Selangor last year, so it was all too familiar to us now. The largest pewter manufacturer and retailer in the world, Royal Selangor has made its name known in the world and is a well recognised Malaysia icon.

Look at that bowl...

I can't see how much it costs...

Oh.. 600,000 RM...

Top: From left, me, Dawn, Shi Hao and Alex.

We visited the KL Tower after lunch. At 515 meters above sea level, this telecommunications tower is an unmistakable feature of the city skyline. Standing at 412 meters, the tower is currently the tallest tower in South East Asia and ranks fourth amongst the tallest telecommunications tower in the world.

Dawn holding the Petronas Tower...

... and the KL Tower at the same time.

There wasn't much to explore at the KL Tower actually. We went up to the viewing gallery and that was about it, as we were told - quite, rudely, in my opinion - by some staff there that the restaurant was only opened to people who made prior reservations. Hence, it was between the ground floor and the viewing gallery only.

Mines Wonderland was forgettable, in many ways. Firstly, I really felt that the amusement park was probably for kids between the ages of 3 and 9, and secondly, the events of the day dragged and chugged very slowly, and this was only a prelude to dinner. To make matters worse, Penny - the person in charge of the free day outing - didn't make things better by what she said.

She told the participants - most of whom, I am sure, were at least 2 years older than her - to sit down at the compound in front of Mines Wonderland when she wanted to brief everyone about the changes in schedule. Well, it was plain obvious that this simply wasn't a normal practice. The Indians were rather shocked at this as well, and one man even said 'Sit here? Sit down here?' The Singaporeans didn't sit. Rather, we bended our knees.

Penny just couldn't be more sensitive. Her next statement was ' OK, I know some of you are not used to sitting down on dirty roads ... '

Top: The bright lights that greeted us at Mines Wonderland.

We took about an hour touring the amusement park, but mostly, I think it was just Hooi Ying and Yang Jin enjoying themselves. Actually, they seem to be enjoying each others company more and more as the day went by.

Sometimes I think I was wrong to storm out of the program after the amusement park closed. If everyone could stay, why couldn't I? But sometimes, I think that I am not wrong - everyone was just plain afraid to do the unpopular thing, although deep down they wanted to tap out as well. It was past 10 pm, and imagine the time everyone would reach back to their hostels and hotel after eating satay at Kajang - the last item in the itinerary.

One of the girls drove me back after I stormed out of the bus - which was promised beforehand, that it would bring us back to UM but didn't happen.

That capped the end of my day. I went back to prepare a few lines, but as to how useful it would be, I was clueless. My dismal performance wasn't helping the team much, and I feel quite bad about it.

GACC XIII: Ace of Thirteen (Day 2)

2008-12-11T20:46:00.029+07:00

30th November 2008

This year's chess competition was held at a different venue from the previous editions. The usual main auditorium was used for another event, hence this year, we had Dewan Tunku Chanselor for the games.

At every opening ceremony for GACC, the Malaysia national anthem, UM's anthem and a prayer recited by a student would be conducted in that order, which means that once we stood up for the first anthem, we would only sit down at the end of the prayer.

Left: The stage at Dewan Tunku Chanselor

I cannot remember if there was any oath taking sessions in the previous few editions of GACC, but as it was conducted at the end this year, I didn't turn back throughout the entire process. It turned out, during this particular oath-taking session where there was a sentence that went something like "... will not engage in any immoral activities with people of the same sex ...", I was told by my friends later that everyone in the hall actually raised their right hand and took the oath.

I guess that was the only interesting part for the opening ceremony, as - in my opinion - the oath taking session was entirely unnecessary. It was ludicrous to have an oath-taking session for an opening ceremony for a chess competition, but to expect everyone to take part in it is preposterous.

Right: The playing hall.

The day passed by with two rounds of chess games, and the highlight of the day was definitely Meei Yin coming to visit us in Kuala Lumpur.

Meei Yin was a girl we go to know last year from GACC XII, and although she wasn't our liaison officers, she hit it off with the NTU guys pretty well last year, and the closing ceremony was probably her night - she was the star.

Left: Dinner at Dominoes Pizza. Jessie, Yang Jin and Meei Yin sat at the back, not visible in this photo.

Thanks to Shi Hao. her visit became possible. He found accommodation for her - at Dawn's and Liu Yang's room in Hilton PJ - at the very last minute. It was really nice to see her again, and my lack of command in the Chinese language did not really hinder our conversation - she was an Energizer bunny who could go on and on about anything - something which was getting rare as work sapped up most of our energy these few years.

It wasn't surprising that Meei Yin stayed in our room till about three in the morning - she had so much energy and stories to share. In a way, I think all of us didn't mind too. She was going to leave on Tuesday, which means that she had effectively only about 2 days to mingle with us - a really short time, considering that for a good part of a day, we will be working on 64 black and white squares.

GACC XIII: Ace of Thirteen (Day 1)

2008-12-11T17:50:00.026+07:00

29th November 2008

Having taken a huge chunk of leave during my internship in Vietnam, this was to be the last bit of leave I would be taking: 5 days of leave for this annual competition organised by Tuanku Bahiya Residential College of Universiti Malaya.

GACC has became quite an event for NTU Chess Club ever since GACC XII. Somewhere in the back of my head, I can still hear all the laughter we shared and all the crappy jokes we made, although sometimes the jokes got quite out of hand. Nevertheless it was a piece of memory which I took with me to Sweden and Vietnam - and I didn't want year 2008 to end without memories of GACC XIII.

Running for the 13th year, I think GACC is by and large, a very successful event run by the students living in the 2nd College. With a limited budget, they have successfully brought together enthusiastic chess players in the region and more often than not, they went the extra mile to make the experience a great one for the players - including picking people up at 5 am a Pudu Raya.

Honestly, their hospitality is second to none.

The train ride to Kuala Lumpur was once again, another 'rush-rush' affair for us. Crossing the customs in Johor Bahru at 8.20 am with the departure time of the train at 8.30 am wasn't the most stress free travel - but thank goodness, the train left at 9 am, giving us enough time to enjoy a bottle of cold drink at the train station.

Top: Team photo at JB train station.

I slept throughout the train ride. My mind and body was weak from three consecutive days of 4 hours of sleep ever since I returned from Ho Chi Minh City, and the 6 hour train ride was a good time for me to get a moment of shut eye.

Left: The view from the window along the way. Photo courtesy of Dawn.

Every year, two liaison officers would be assigned to each country, and this year, our liaison officers actually picked us up at the platform itself, carrying a banner which they have done. Honestly, what a wonderful reception!

Top: Team photo at the KL train station with our two liaison officers, Yang Jin and Jessie.

From the train station, they brought us to three different cars, and there, another three students drove us to Universiti Malaya (UM), giving us a stress free ride to UM. All the administrative stuff was done at the 2nd College, and we had photographs taken for passes to be made and a team photograph taken for us for their website. After all the administrative stuff was done in a quick and efficient fashion, they drove us to Hilton Petaling Jaya - a 4 star hotel located some 15 minutes drive away.

In my first year of participation in GACC XI, I stayed at the 2nd College, and after that, I told myself never again will I stay there. Subsequently for GACC XII, the team made arrangements to stay elsewhere. There is no need to mention the state of their hostel; I think it speaks enough when - as one of the UM student tells me - at times, the water supply runs out, leaving them running around for a decent place to take a shower.

By most standards, Hilton PJ would be far too expensive for us. However, thanks to the efficiency of Dawn, we managed to secure one room for $66 a night - a great bargain considering that the room was spacious enough to accommodate up to 4 people and that the breakfast was awesome.

It was pretty late by the time we settled down, and we went out in search for good and cheap food. We settled for zhi char, and with lemon chicken, frog legs, prawns, kang kong, fried calamari or sotong, as we call it, and 50 sticks of satay, and a cup of drink for each of us, it only cost each of us RM10 - a real bargain.

Top: The view from our room in Hilton PJ.

Top: Along the shopping street where we had our dinner.

As Dawn had to attend the captain's meeting at 9 pm, we headed back to the hotel earlier, with high hopes for the coming rounds.

Good Bye, Vietnam!

2008-12-11T17:01:00.017+07:00

27th November 2008

With a chess competition coming up next week, I called my time in Vietnam short.

Leaving on the morning flight on the 28th of November, I wanted to meet up with as many of my friends and colleagues as I could before I fly, and I have to say that saying good byes seem to be a part of my life now. It isn't easy - but I have learnt not to make it unnecessarily hard too.

There was to be no farewell party like what I had in Sweden - but nonetheless, I was glad that I could still have dinners and lunches with colleagues who had made my time in Vietnam pleasant. A dinner with my supervisors and superiors at an extremely posh restaurant and lunch at KFC with my other colleagues the next day was good - but I had to say it was good spending time with some other Vietnamese friends I had made along the way as well.

Top: Dinner with Ha, 26th November 2008.

Ha is the current president of Saigon Hotpot, a very famous organization in the University of Humanities and Social Sciences (UHSS) in the Vietnam National University (VNU) in Ho Chi Minh City.

A young and energetic girl whose efforts in charity never fails to amaze me, Ha has traveled to quite a few places in her quest to improve herself - most notably Boston for the HPAIR conference in February this year.

Top: Ha. I always said that this picture is fit for the next edition of Lonely Planet, and I still stand by my statement.

Last but not least, I met up with Duong as well. She lives in Hanoi, but was doing a part time stint in Ho Chi Minh City during my last week in Vietnam.

Top: Duong, in front of a cafe somewhere in District 10.

I am not sure whether I will visit Vietnam anytime soon, but to end my trip in Vietnam and to draw a good concluding post with regards to my first post Good Morning,Vietnam! , here is is:

Good Bye, Vietnam!

Tay Ninh Province Part 2

2008-12-07T22:09:00.009+07:00

23rd November 2008

The highlight of the day would be the well known Cao Dai Temple in Tay Ninh.

Established first in Tay Ninh Province in 1926, Cao Dai is a religion that combines the teachings of Christianity, Buddhism, Islam, Confucianism, Hinduism, Geniism and Toaism. Cao Đài literally translates to 'high place', although the full name of the religion is Đại Đạo Tam Kỳ Phổ Độ.

Top: Cao Dai's Holy See, also called the Tay Ninh Holy See.

Having rode past the colorful and intricately designed temple yesterday, we didn't waste any chance in snapping photographs of it. According to Kha, the entire land where it was fence up housing schools and temples belongs to the temple, and what we were visiting was just the main temple practising the religion of Cao Đài.

Top: The Divine Eye, more specifically the left eye.

Top: The nine steps to heaven.

We left the temples soon after. Most of them had to work the next day, so they had to return to Ho Chi Minh City after lunch.

Left: The last photo shooting sessions before leaving. From left, Chau, Ngoc, Linh and Huy.

The ride back to Ho Chi Minh City was a 4 hour journey that eventually almost became 6 hour journey. The dark skies looked threatening for most part of the ride, until the downpour started. Being ill equipped, I could only hide behind a small portion of Huy's raincoat, which merely prevented my head from being wet. 5 minutes into the rain, and I was drenched from head to toe.

The ride became more exciting when Huy's motorbike broke down in the middle of the journey. Stuck somewhere in Cu Chi, cold, wet and hungry wasn't the best feeling, I was sure I would not be allowed up any cab in that condition. Fortunately for me, Huy's motorbike came back to life after about 15 minutes of trying.

I reached my hostel close to 8 pm - surely the longest motorbike ride of my life so far. It was one hell of a ride, but I was sure it would be the last bit of traveling I would be doing in Vietnam.

Tay Ninh Province Part 1

2008-12-07T20:31:00.019+07:00

22nd November 2008

The recent resignation of my ex-colleague prompted him to go back to his hometown over the weekend, and being such the nice guy that he is, he asked me and Darren to join him in the approximately 3 hour motorbike ride to his hometown of Tay Ninh, where he will also play host to 5 of his other close friends.

With final reports to complete for the school and not forgetting the chess competition in Kuala Lumpur coming up, I jumped at the opportunity of having someone bring me around without me needing to do any prior planning.

Tay Ninh Province was a stage of fierce combat fighting between the Americans and the Viet Congs operating in South Vietnam, and an area strongly doused with Agent Orange as well. It would be pointless to repeat the stories of the tragedies of war here, but when Kha told me his hometown was Tay Ninh Province, approximately 90 kilometers northwest of Ho Chi Minh City, that was what flashed in my mind first.

We met up extremely early, at 7.30 am at my hostel.

Strapping my helmet to my head, I realised that this would be the longest motorcycle ride I will be having so far, and I hopped on to the motorbike, hoping that my buttocks would not be too numb before we stopped at Tay Ninh.Fortunately everyone took breaks, and at our third break at 9.30 am, we actually stopped for breakfast.

Right: Paddy fields that line the road along the way to Tay Ninh Province.

The motorbike ride resumed soon after, and we reached Kha's house at about 11.30 am. After washing up and resting for a while, we had lunch and wine - yes, a rather strong brew - before heading to the well known Ba Den Mountain.

Left: Salt for the fruits which we bought before heading for the mountain.

At a height of 986 meters, Ba Den mountain is the highest peak in the southern region of Vietnam. I was hoping to climb all the way up to the peak, but the time would not permit us to. The sky turns dark at about 5.45 pm, and leaving on motorbikes at only 3.30 pm, we reached the mountain at about 4.

Right: Ba Den Mountain from the motorbike.

Although Kha and his friends were willing to join me in the climb, their intentions were to reach the halfway mark while my intention was to reach the peak. Somewhere along the route as I was climbing the stairs alone, all of them lost somewhere behind me, I was reminded of the enthusiasm and energy of Xiao You, a girl whom I met in the Faroe Islands. Although the view from Ba Den Mountain cannot be compared with the many mountains I scaled at the Faroe Islands, I just wished that some of the Vietnamese I was with would have this enthusiasm and energy to reach the peak as well - we would have left for the mountain much earlier.

Top: The view just before hitting the temple.

Our luck couldn't be worse, when upon reaching the temple, the rain starting pouring. We were stranded at the temple for over 2 hours - the rain showed no signs of abating - and finally, we decided that we will begin our descend in the dark with the rain pouring. Although we bought some flimsy makeshift raincoats, the raincoat couldn't cover my arms and legs adequately and in any case, I was drenched from head to toe by the time we reached the foot of the mountain.

We headed back to Kha's house straight away, and the night ended with dinner and beers, and a very good talk with Kha about his experience in Ascendas Services Vietnam.

A Vietnamese Wedding in Ho Chi Minh City

2008-11-11T11:10:00.035+07:00

9th November 2008

The Notre Dame Cathedral is a site of rich historical and cultural value, built by the French colonists with all of its original materials imported from France. While I have walked past it countless number of times and also seen it on television screens during my karaoke sessions here, the locals flock here for a variety of reasons.

Top: Notre Dame Cathedral and Diamond Plaza

Besides the many couples we would see on the motorbikes parked around the cathedral and the post office, many couples would actually take wedding photographs at the cathedral as well.

While walking to my office I would also notice a couple of restaurants whose sole purpose seem to be that of hosting wedding dinners only.

Right: A wedding dinner 20 meters away from my office.

Two rows of women in gown would line the red carpet to the restaurant, flanked by large portraits of the couple. A few photographers would be busy snapping photographs of the couple and their friends, and as usual, being located in such a prime district with expatriates working around the vicinity, the occasional crowd of foreigners would gather.

When my Vietnamese colleague in the project department asked me if I wanted to join him for his friend's wedding dinner, I jumped at the opportunity. It was too good a chance to miss, and although I wasn't able to speak the language and might feel lost during dinner, I feel that this was probably a once in a lifetime chance.

After waiting for 20 minutes at Le Loi street, bus 152 finally arrived. I hopped onto it and started to keep a lookout for Nguyen Van Troi street, where I was supposed to meet Nhat. He would ferry me to the restaurant on his motorbike from there.

Of all the buses I have taken so far, I would say that taking buses in Vietnam are probably the most stressful ones. Relying on a map indicating outdated bus routes, there are no working door bells in the buses, and one would need to shout to the conductor to tell the driver to stop at the next stop. The bus stops too, never really looked like the conventional bus stops. There are the conventional bus stops with shelters and seats, bus stops indicated by a pole with a panel indicating the buses that stop there, and stops with no indications at all - in the middle of nowhere, basically.

After a 15 minute bus ride, I finally hit Nguyen Van Troi street. Initially, the instructions given to me by Nhat was to stop at the last stop before the bus turns right, towards the airport. I felt that that was too difficult a task, and we agreed that anywhere on Nguyen Van Troi street would do. Hence, when a lady stopped along Nguyen Van Troi street, I hopped off the bus too.

Nhat arrived at 142a Nguyen Van Troi street a couple of minutes later. I hopped onto his bike, and I barely had the time to shift to a comfortable position. He sped off almost immediately, with the straps to my helmet still dangling and unfastened.

We weaved in and out of the crazy traffic - he knocked his bike into the back of a car at one stage even. It was anything but safe - he even made a daring U-turn while a car was blaring its horn.

We finally reached Dong Phuong restaurant, located in Tan Binh District.

The crowd was tremendous - there must have been at least a thousand people here. Dong Phuong restaurant was made up of many restaurants, each one of them hosting a wedding dinner. It took Nhat quite some time to find the correct one.

Left: We finally found the right couple.

We waited for about an hour before the programme finally kicked off - not before downing many mugs of Heineken with Nhat's friends. They seemed more intent to drink than anything else, and although I obliged them and joined them in downing a mug a time, I made sure I didn't get drunk or reached anywhere near that stage. Not only did I have things to do after the dinner, I need to be able to balance myself on the bike later on.

The program kicked off with a performance by a group of dancers and singers, before the bride and groom were invited up the stage. Their parents went up to give a short speech as well, and after they poured the champagne into the pyramid of glasses and cut the cake, food was finally

served.

Top: Guests who came as early as me.

Top: A dance and song to start the event.

Top: Cutting the cake.

The latter part of the dinner was actually pretty similar to a wedding dinner in Singapore - besides the fact that three quarters of our table were missing as they were high from the Heineken they had downed incessantly in the past hour.

After toasting to the bride and groom, Nhat and I left. We skipped the desert and apparently many people skipped too - a lot of people were leaving the car park in their motorbikes. I guess it must be normal, for if everyone were to leave at the end of the dinner, the congestion would be terrible.

Nhat sped me back to my hostel much like how he sped to the restaurant. I guess for someone who has lived in the 'World's Capital of Motorbikes' for over ten years, he probably felt it was ok. In any case, he did control the bike pretty well, and I was glad that I had the chance to attend a Vietnamese wedding although I am told that weddings in different parts of Vietnam are conducted differently.

Vũng Tàu, Day 2

2008-10-01T14:00:00.007+07:00

7th September 2008

It was amazing the girls could wake up at half past five.

I lost count of the number of times the phone rang in our room, although I answered it once only. The banging of the door was the final wake up call though, and all of us took turns to shower and get changed.

We went out for breakfast, came back to check out of our rooms before heading to a very popular coffee joint, Ô Cấp, along Bãi Dứa. This coffee joint was packed and crowded with locals and techno music was blasting across three stories of coffee tables and customers. We managed to get two tables at the highest level overlooking the sea.

Left: The view of the sea from my seat.

We sat for a little more than an hour only, as some of them actually had to work in the day later on. They rang the bus company and the bus came to the doorstep to pick us up.

It was a long journey back – 2 hours back followed by Bus 14 once more.

Right: A stop at a coffee house before heading back to Ho Chi Minh City.

Satisfied and tired, with a few dots of chili sauce and ketchup smeared on my white shirt due to the mad squeeze in the bus – one which saw a man’s finger getting clipped by the rear door – we reached our hostel finally.

They were drafting out some the plan to go to Nha Trang sometime next month with the same gang.

I can’t wait to escape for another weekend!

Vũng Tàu, Day 1

2008-09-28T18:25:00.033+07:00

6th September 2008

It was an offer to good to be missed. Darren’s working partner, Kha, was going to Vũng Tàu with a few of his friends, and offered us a space on their itinerary. I wasn’t going to miss out such a trip, especially when he said that they would be riding their motorcycles there, which would probably take 3 hours or more.

There would be a total of 8 of us – 4 guys and 4 girls. Darren almost withdrew at the last minute due to restrictions imposed by his girlfriend – and in my opinion, unnecessary fears on Min’s part – but I was glad everything went along as planned in the end.

We met at the youth center next to Diamond Plaza at 7.30 am, and I realized that I actually missed a chess competition held there. It is weird to imagine me taking part in a local chess competition here, especially when I would probably not understand a single word the arbiter would say, but I am not ruling this out in the next three months here.

Kha and his friends parked their bikes at Diamond Plaza instead of the original plan of riding all the way down to Vũng Tàu as there were concerns that the girls would not be able to last such a long ride down to Vũng Tàu. We took Bus 14 to Bến Xe Miền Đông, followed by a coach operated by Rạng Đông Bus Company.

Left: TVs in the bus.

The cost of 50,000 VND was worth the 2 hour ride, and I have to admit that it was such a breeze with the locals bringing us. It was extremely easy for them to decide which bus company offered the most value for money, not to mention that touts disturb us significantly lesser when the majority in the group was Vietnamese locals.

Right: Bến Xe Miền Đông

Top: From left, Linh, me, Huy, Darren and Kha.

The driver brought us directly to our hostel in Vũng Tàu – another advantage of having someone who can speak the local language. Perhaps the service was really quite good if you could take advantage of it - the bus driver also made a few stops for other passengers before reaching our place.

Vũng Tàu used to be an area of R&R for the American troops during the Vietnam War, and I am guessing this lent to its rise as a tourist attraction and weekend getaways for the locals in Ho Chi Minh City. In fact, many of Kha’s friends have been here many times, some even coming over one to two times a month.

We spent the first half an hour washing up and resting before heading out for lunch. Everything was ordered by the locals – as expected – and I couldn’t ask for more. We ate to our fill and although many of them wanted to head to the karaoke lounge, I wanted to head to the well-known statue of Jesus atop Small Mountain.

Left: What a spread!

I love the views at such heights, and the hot weather wasn’t going to stop me. I told everyone that I would head to Small Mountain by myself if they wanted to go elsewhere, and I would find a way to meet up with them again. Moreover, I felt that karaoke lounges were aplenty in Ho Chi Minh City and I didn’t think that Vũng Tàu’s karaoke lounges would offer significantly different stuff.

Right: The statue of Jesus from our window.

In the end, the whole bunch of them followed me. In actual fact, quite a few of them had never climbed the flight of stairs on Small Mountain – at least Minh and Thao had not reached the top of Small Mountain before.

Top: A nice little island we spotted along one of the stops we made.

It was hot, but the heat did not take away my enthusiasm to reach the statue. However we made quite a few stops as the heat got to the girls and they needed breaks. We walked the entire stretch along Thùy Vân Road to the Small Mountain, bought some drinks at the foot of the mountain, before heading up.

In actual fact it wasn’t tough at all. The entire area was done up with stairs and railings, and it could easily be done with time.

Right: The stairs leading to the statue.

Built in 1971, the 28 meter tall figure of Jesus stood on a 10 meter tall platform, and there were stairs – 129 steps in all - in it for us to climb to the balcony, which were the outstretched arms of the statue. The view from the top was magnificent. One could see the entire city of Vũng Tàu and the clear blue sea dotted by two small islands, one which I marked out mentally to visit later.

Left: The statue of Jesus.

I was glad I made the choice of scaling Small Mountain. I simply cannot imagine going to the karaoke lounge over this, especially when in all probability, they would be singing Vietnamese songs, while Darren and I would be doing English songs. In my opinion, savoring the view from the top while the gust of wind hits our faces beats singing in an enclosed room.

Top: Magnificient views on the arms of the statues.

Top: Minh, who speaks Korean.

Everyone gathered at the foot of the statue for a good half an hour or so afterwards, and some of them started singing. They were really passionate singers though – some of them having even tried for Vietnam Idol.

We headed down afterwards, and once again, I suggested going to another small island adjacent to Small Mountain. This time, only 4 of them walked up the dirt path to the small hill – me, Darren, Huy and Linh. The elevation wasn’t that high, but due to the lack of obstruction around the area, the view wasn’t too bad either.

Everyone was hot and sweaty by now, and we decided to go back to the hostel to take a brief break before heading to the beach for some water games and a barbeque session. Darren and I wouldn’t be taking part in the water games though, but in any case, they needed someone to look after all the belongings.

Top: The beach where we had our barbeque.

The barbeque at the beach took place at the beach itself – the sandy beaches, with grains of sand infiltrating our plates and into our beer. I think all of us consumed a fair bit of sand unknowingly, especially with the beer.

I think nobody wanted the day to end as we will all be heading back to Ho Chi Minh City tomorrow afternoon. We went in search of food once again after the barbeque and a much needed shower, choosing to try out the roadside delicacy of barbequed squid and octopus.

Left and right: Street food !!!

I think I wouldn’t have the chance to sample this if I didn’t hang out with the locals, as these stalls were mostly mended by the elderly who could only speak Vietnamese, and I wouldn’t have been able to be sure of its quality and price of the food by myself.

11 pm wasn’t too late for us – and we found ourselves playing games in the girls’ room after an hour of eating smoked squids, octopus and clams. There was a great deal of laughter as we tried out a variety of games. Some were suggested by them, while Darren introduced two other games as well, one of them being a drinking one.

We called it a day at about 2.30 am, when a few of them suggested a game, whereby a guy and girl would get under the blankets, while somebody else will touch them on the outside and guess who he or she is touching. I think to all the guys, it was fine, but Thuy said that the game had a ‘high risk’ factor – one girl only – and somewhere along the lines, we decided to call it a day. I hit the sack immediately upon returning to the room. I had only about 4 hours of sleep the previous night, and there was this throbbing headache in me which was disturbing me at the latter stages of the games.

HPAIR Day 4 (Kuala Lumpur)

2008-09-11T10:04:00.018+07:00

24 August 2008

In response to the question I posed to myself at three am – about 4 hours ago – I will say that I didn’t do any laundry at all, didn’t iron any shirt and didn’t pack my backpack. I wore a collared shirt with my jeans, and decided that I would give the owners a call at the earliest break. The alcohol was still lingering in my system, and I felt like I never slept at all.

I was late – I reached Hilton Petaling at 8.35 am, but as usual, the bus had not left the premises yet. Everyone were still loitering outside and waiting for the cue to board the bus. I was surprised to see most of the NUS people turning up – most did not sign up for the security workshop and belonged to the other workshops, but somehow they managed to get rid of the people on the list and their names were upgraded from the waiting list to the list proper. Don’t ask me how they did it, but I almost got myself out of the list thanks to the number if drinks I had the night before.

It didn’t take long to reach Wisma Putra, where the Institute for Diplomacy and Foreign Relations (IDFR) was located.

Left: Kim Cheong and me

Right: Hannah, Kim Cheong and Isabel

We were promptly whisked to the conference room, a circular room with just enough seats for everyone, including the speaker and the technical staff.

We were first briefed by a lady who works at IDFR, and over the next hour or so, she described in very general terms the role which IDFR plays in Malaysia’s foreign relations and its training programs.

Left: The conference room.

The later part of the program, however, was the highlight of the day. HPAIR committee has managed to get His Excellency X – I blank out his name to make him anonymous here, but it isn’t hard to check out who the speaker was from the Internet - to give us his perspective in the issue regarding the sovereignty of the three islands, Pedra Branca/Pulau Batu Puteh, the Middle Rocks and South Ledge which was recently ruled by the International Court of Justice (ICJ).

It was definitely a highlight, and I have to say that my opinions cannot be published in this blog without suffering backlash from my Malaysian friends.

This issue surfaced since 1979, and over the years of negotiation between Singapore and Malaysia, no agreement could be reached, and the case was eventually submitted to ICJ in 2003. The ruling on the 28th of May 2008 - I remember this date clearly, as it was the day I left for Iceland and was begging my friend to update me while I was away – gave Singapore sovereignty over Pedra Branca, Malaysia the Middle Rocks, and South Ledge to the country whose territorial waters it lay in.

I refer my readers to another interesting blog here and must remind my readers that as nationalistic as I may be, I believe that the ruling was fair and I agree with the most of the points if not all, which the court ruled. The 81 page report by the ICJ is available online and I think the ruling was presented clearly and succinctly.

The PowerPoint slides presented by our Malaysian counterpart were biased. I don’t think any Singaporean there would disagree. Instead of relaying facts, they choose to give one side of the story. For example, while they mentioned about the 1953 letter which Malaysia replied to Singapore – which in my opinion dealt a great blow to their case – they chose to present only one line of the reply, and didn’t present in the slides Singapore’s question posed to Malaysia. Had they done that, perhaps the students at the conference – all of whom are of high caliber and really potential leaders in the future – would have seen why the case was broken into two phases: post-1953 and pre-1953, and how great a role it played in the subsequent judgment of the case.

The judges ruled 12-4 in favor of Singapore for the island of Pedra Branca, and in this round of presentations to the HPAIR delegates, Malaysia chose to list down 4 remarks made by the judges why they opposed to Singapore ruling the island. Perhaps it wasn’t just the material that was in the slides, but the way in which it was presented – full of angst and passion – that made it sound really one sided and got me awake, to say the least.

The last slide, I think, blew the Singaporean delegates away. They presented two paragraphs as to why Malaysia agreed to submit the case to ICJ, and in the last paragraph, there appeared ‘… due to Singapore’s extremely inflexible attitude…’

I think it was really unnecessary to add that, and there were probably a thousand better ways to say that. It was provocative to say the least, given that Singapore delegates formed a huge part of the workshop.

I wouldn’t describe our Malaysian counterpart’s conduct and attitude while responding to questions, as I am sure the students know that very well and could compare it with the other speakers from the past three days of workshops and sessions, but I felt that his answers did nothing to quench the Singaporeans’ thirst, and to put it very mildly, I would have asked them again and again to get the answers had I not been a Singaporean at that moment.

I dare to put, however, one part of the answer. One of the students asked in what way was Singapore’s attitude inflexible, and he cut her short very simply, retorting “They put their gunboats there 24 hours!” Well, given the fact that Singapore acted à titre de souverain over Pedra Branca when Malaysia did not protest, was it inflexible to position gun boats over your territory? Perhaps I may not be the best judge of that, but in that case, His Excellency X could have enlightened me a little more. However, he brushed it aside with such a triumphant tone, and were I not quite agitated by then, I would have posed him that very question. I couldn’t risk Singapore’s reputation by posing questions when I could feel a certain degree of smoke emitting from me, lest I release my anger in an uncivilized fashion.

Our 15RM lunch – something which we had to pay – was a packet of rice, a small plastic bag of mashed potato in curry, and a chicken drumstick. I felt it wasn’t too bad, but to pay 15RM for that was quite a rip off. I could get much better with 15RM.

We gathered for lunch while letting our heat off after the talk. We all felt provoked to various degrees, and me, perhaps to the largest extent, given that I read the whole 81 page report prior to attending this conference.

Top: Taking a photograph before leaving.

We decided to skip the rest of the day, and while they headed to Midvalley first, I had to return to my hostel to check out of the room. I briefly discussed the case with the owner of the hostel, before meeting up with the NUS people at Midvalley again.

We bowled until about 5, before starting the queue for the taxis. The queue – as usual – was terribly long despite a few taxis parked in the vicinity with the driver idling around. These drivers were seeking customers who didn’t want to use the meter, and although we were in a sort of a rush, we didn’t take these taxis. In fact, beyond a certain time, taxis started to flood the place, and the queue moved relatively fast.

Top: From left, Wei Ning, Gary, Hui Lin, Hock Boon, me, Kim Cheong, Isabel and Hannah.

We headed back to Hilton Petaling, for the final event of the HPAIR conference. It was the gala dinner, and this time, we decided to join the other NTU girls. The four of them: Germaine, Germaine, Abby and Pei Shan didn’t join us most of the time, so this was pretty much the last time we would see them during the conference.

The night ended pretty much this way. A dinner, followed by a few photograph taking session at the end of the day wrapped up the whole event. I was glad that despite the lengthy hesitation, I still made the decision to come to this conference. Perhaps coming to this conference during internship was good, and not as bad as I thought. Come to think about it, I might have suffered terribly for taking such a long break from school with all the school work piling up for one week.

I took the LRT with Hui Lin and Hock Boon. Her bus was leaving at 11.30 pm, and there wasn’t a cab at 10.30 pm, so they decided to take the LRT. I left the train a stop before them, and I think it was really nice meeting the two of them. Hui Lin studies in Chicago on a PSC scholarship, while Hock Boon studies at Imperial College on a SPF scholarship, and the two of them are some of the nicest people I have met. In my opinion, studying overseas does not necessarily mean a higher quality of formal education – but rather, the whole experience is an invaluable one - one which either makes a person more arrogant, or in the other direction – a more humble, friendly, easy going yet confident person. Hui Lin and Hock Boon definitely belong to the latter.

We rushed to Pudu Ray bus station after the Gala dinner. For me, it was a breeze as Pudu Raya was a mere 15 minutes walk from my hostel. I met up with the rest of them at Pudu Raya, and despite holding a dodgy looking receipt I bought from a dodgy looking guy, I boarded the same bus as the whole NUS gang, and left off at 12.40 am.

The conference might not have lasted as good throughout, with some speakers really going way off their mark. But the conference was a good experience for me – getting to meet the people from NUS, some seniors like Wei Ning, debating with Isabel over issues of freedom of speech vs. humanitarian aid, talking about the pornographic film Pirates – the list goes on.

It was impressionable trip to Kuala Lumpur, with the conference and meeting up with old friends like Lawson and Eric filling my cup, I cannot help but feel contented despite knowing that I could have done many things better.

It would be back to Ho Chi Minh City soon to resume my internship, but before that, let me stop by my home country, Singapore, for a few hours first.

HPAIR Day 3 (Kuala Lumpur)

2008-09-09T16:39:00.020+07:00

23 August 2008

I visited the Central Market in the morning, knowing very well that if I were to buy something for my colleagues in Vietnam , it had to be now. There would not be any more time left after today to do any shopping, and moreover, Lawson told me that Central Market would be a good place to look for souvenirs.

Central Market, in my opinion, is just another shopping mall with carts located in the central area. It was fully air-conditioned and reminds me of Bugis Junction actually, the only difference being Malaysia flags hanging throughout.

I bought three mini statues of the PETRONAS Towers which functions as card holders, something which I felt was useful to office workers.

I left for Hilton Petaling at 12.30 pm. I wanted to catch the lunch at Hilton Petaling, as it was part of the US$350 registration fee, and I have skipped breakfast for it.

The day proceeded slowly, with two more workshops to attend before the International Night at UM. The few of us decided to do a song Home by Kit Chan during the International Night, something which I reluctantly participated in. Firstly I cannot remember the lyrics, and secondly, I never have any urge to be a performer.

The International Night kicked off very slowly, and I had to say that my attention span was short – I dozed off at times. The students of UM did pretty well, donning elaborate costumes and from the near perfect moves, it was obvious that they had rehearsed for this a good number of times.

Left: Before the start of the International Night.

Among the foreigners, the Koreans deserved extra mention. They put up a very good show with their lively and adorable music and dance and their elaborate traditional costumes.

Top: Part of Team South Korea. HPAIR 2009 will be held in South Korea.

Top: The Koreans with the other participants of HPAIR.

Top: The last item performed by the students from UM.

The whole group of us – Wei Ning, Gary, Kim Cheong, Isabel, Heather, Hock Boon, and Jonathon went to a Karaoke Lounge after that, with two other Chinese and 2 other Japanese joining us. We sang the day away, not before I had about 7 glasses of Tiger and a great time feeling half tipsy and half awake while shouting through the microphone.

I stumbled back into my room at 3 am. I had to reach Hilton Petaling at 8.30 am tomorrow, and I wonder how I was supposed to squeeze washing my shirt, ironing it, packing up my backpack and sleeping all into the next 4 hours.

Tomorrow would be the reason why I signed up for the security workshop – a trip to the Institute of Diplomacy and Foreign Relations (IDFR) to hear from a representative of Malaysia who represented Malaysia during the ICJ’s hearing of the Pedra Branca/Pulau Batu Puteh dispute with Singapore.

HPAIR Day 2 (Kuala Lumpur)

2008-09-09T16:22:00.010+07:00

22 August 2008

I arrived 5 minutes late for the plenary session on Education, not because I woke up late, but because the F1 racing in my stomach forced me to run to the toilet twice in the morning.

Left: Mr Tony Pua, the first speaker of the day speaking.

The education session was a blast. I wasn’t wrong about it. There were 4 speakers for the session: Mr Tony Pua, opposition MP in Malaysia and founder of the ‘Education in Malaysia’ blog, Ton Nu Thi Ninh, Former Vietnam National Assembly Member and founder of Tri Viet University, Tu Wei Ming, Harvard-Yenching Professor of Chinese History and Philosophy and of Confucian Studies at Harvard University and Chair Professor in the Humanities at Peking University and of Confucian Studies, Harvard University, and the fourth speaker whom I have forgotten his name.

The session was awesome. Tony Pua was blasting the education system of Malaysia, and some really juicy facts that I noted down were:

Although Burmese doctors are not allowed to practice in Malaysia, they are hired to teach in a university in Eastern Malaysia.

The policy of adhering to the quota of bumiputras and non-bumiputras extended not only to the students, but that of hiring the academics as well. As a result, many non-bumiputras have gone abroad to work, some becoming famous and notable chancellors in overseas Universities. Bumiputras are literally translated to ‘Prince of the soil’, and refers to the Malays in Malaysia.

The UPU system ensures that no one knows why one would not get into their top few choices despite getting good grades. Although this was thought to bring about uniformity across all universities, this has in effect ensured that all the universities were uniformly mediocre as well.

Of course there were more juicy facts about Malaysia’s education system, but it might be better to pay a little attention to being politically polite here – after all, as a Singaporean, we practice self-censorship and our love-hate relationship with Malaysia shall not extend its influence on my page.

The talk by the Vietnamese was enlightening as well. She highlighted the fact that economic disparity has only brought about an education whereby only the well to do could get a more than decent in international schools, and hence, these international schools were not filled with students of talent and caliber, but those with an economic background that exceeds the common folk. In general she painted a very gloomy picture of Vietnam and estimated that it will be a long time before the education system parallels that of a developed country, if it will ever happen.

The other two speakers were good in their own way too, but I couldn’t draw much parallel with them.

The question and answer section was a blast. People queued up to ask questions, most of them were questions that I wanted the answers to as well. In a way, I was disappointed that the organizing committee didn’t allocate more time for such a session; education was something which all of us could relate to, having been part of the system or are still part of the system, and a little foresight into such matter could truly advertise the brand name of ‘Harvard’, not that they really needed anymore publicity.

Many times, answers by the panelists had to be brief as the organizers rushed them to give their answers in two or three minutes, and these answers more often than not, begged more questions to be asked. I can’t represent the bulk of the students there, but I felt frustrated at not receiving better answers due to the extreme shortage of time – people were even whisked off for the economic workshop in the middle of the Q&A session.

We had another two workshops after lunch, but I couldn’t remember much about it. Mostly I sat at the back, and I had trouble keeping myself awake after a hearty lunch at Hilton Petaling.

I was looking forward to the end of the day though. Eric, my understudy at the Radiology Department during my National Service (NS) days has been studying in Kuala Lumpur (KL) for over a year now, and will leave for Australia to finish his course in Medicine next year, and this was an excellent and not to be missed opportunity to catch up him.

While the NUS people went off to KLCC, I chose to meet up with Eric. The last time I saw him was in March 2006 - when I officially left the Singapore Armed Forces after serving for more than two years – at the medical centre, where I collected my Pink IC.

After navigating through the streets and complications of the monorail and LRT system, I spotted Eric at the Hang Tuah station. Eric now sports a slightly longer haircut, although he still looks like the Eric I knew two years ago.

Top: Bukit Bintang

Over the next few hours, we had dinner at a Hong Kong restaurant and a jug of Tiger at some bar in Bukit Bintang. He filled me with some happenings that took place in the medical centre after I ORDed, including the friendship he struck up with Dr. Chia and the probable working place of Dr. Kenneth Ng Choon Yong, the most hated doctor in the medical centre who was well known among the drivers as a 流氓医生. There is no need to detail all the despicable acts that Dr. Kenneth has done and his unprofessional practices behind the closed door in the consultation room, and to write an article about his misconducts would be really a waste of time – it would probably require a 10 page document with a size 8 Times New Roman font.

We didn’t talk about such stuff only though – Eric’s life has been an extremely enriching and colorful ever since he ORDed as well, and my life hadn’t been too monotonous and mundane as well. We traded stories which cannot be written in this entry, and all I can say was that I enjoyed myself tremendously.

We called it a day at 11.30 pm.

It was way past midnight when I reached my hostel, and after doing my laundry and ironing my shirt, I decided that I would skip the first half of the day tomorrow. I had been surviving on sleep that didn’t last longer than 5 hours the last few days, and the day would be long tomorrow, with an International Night at Universiti Malaya (UM).

HPAIR Day 1 (Kuala Lumpur)

2008-09-09T10:01:00.012+07:00

21 August 2008

The initial plan of leaving the hostel at 7.45 am was abandoned after I realized that the owner of Matahari Lodge was a Singaporean.

I was afraid of being late for the first day of the conference, so I showered and changed early, and reached the pantry at about 7.15 am, leaving ample time for bread and coffee to sink into my stomach for me to kick start the day. However, it was hard to drop the conversation I was having with the owner of Matahari Lodge. Not only did he have an extremely colorful life, having lived in Dubai for over 12 years and other countries, Singlish ruled the day and it was good that we could converse with words like ‘Sian’ and ‘la’.

Eventually I did leave the hostel at about 8.15 am. I wasn’t too worried that I will be late, because my experience from yesterday train rides have assured me that the distance between Pasar Seni and Taman Jaya is pretty short actually.

Left: The bus station next to Pasar Seni station.

Each train consists of only two carriages, and given the morning peak hour time, it was no surprise that the carriages were packed full. What surprised me though was the fact that the men standing at the door actually held the door back when it was closing and people were still moving in and out of the carriages. Initially I thought that it was a one-off incident, that of people holding the door back to prevent it from shutting. But this happened at almost every station, and not once – but sometimes up to three times. That is, the door was deliberately held back for up to three times to allow people to move in and out of the train.

I reached Hilton Petaling early enough. It was a good thing I made a suit in Vietnam before leaving for this conference – it was an extremely formal affair. Everyone was dressed so formerly, and I can’t thank my roommate enough for being my image consultant the past few days before I left.

The first speech of the day was at Kristal Ballroom 1, and was given by Borje Ljuggren, the former ambassador to Vietnam and China, Ministry of Affairs, Sweden. In the initial stages, everyone was all ears, but as the talk was scheduled to be an hour long, it was obvious that people were dozing off in the later stages. It is hard to blame them – everything was formal stiff and it was sure hard not to fall asleep when one is expected to sit still for an hour.

The coffee break saw everyone rushing out to grab a cup of coffee – only to realize that there was no coffee, although it was still a good thing to go out for a breather and allow blood to flow through our system. It was at this point Wai San’s friend, Abigail, found me and said hi to me. It could hardly be the other way round. I have no idea how she looked, and although she have never seen me, seeing my brother is almost the equivalent of seeing me.

There were three other NTU girls with her, and we chatted for a short while before each of us left for our respective workshops. I took up the security workshop, while the girls took up the workshop on economic growth.

The first workshop of the day was conducted by Lim Sung Nam, South Korea's Ambassador for North Korean Nuclear Issue of Foreign Ministry and Edward Baker from Harvard Yenching Institute, Harvard Korea Institute. The talk was about the North Korea Nuclear Issue and the six-party talks.

Left: The first workshop. The speakers, Mr Baker and Mr Lim are seated at the front.

Being the first such conference of my life, I felt that the issue was examined very well. Many international issues directly and indirectly influenced the negotiations in the six party talks, issues that I would not have paid much attention to before. The question and answer section was – no surprise here – dominated by the South Korean students, although a Hungarian girl on exchange in NUS did speak up as well.

Lunch soon followed, which was actually held behind the stage at the Kristal Ballroom 1. I joined the NTU girls for lunch, and although the food wasn’t too bad, I felt it was a tad too spicy for my weakened state.

We had a talk by Diamler in the middle of our lunch, and also a talk by Dr Surin Pitsuwan, the Secretary General of ASEAN. His talk was definitely enlightening. From the start of ASEAN to the issues that the ARF had on its plate, only the short time allocated to him prevented him from departing more knowledge to us.

Right: The charismatic Dr Surin Pitsuwan. His talk was cut short due to arrival of the prince.

Left: Awaiting the arrival of the prince.

It was the opening ceremony after lunch, where the Crown Prince of Perak Raja Dr Nazrin Steven Shah, himself an ex-Harvard student. In fact, his credentials are nothing less than impressive. His full name including his official titles is : Duli Yang Teramat Mulia Raja Muda Perak Darul Ridzuan Raja Dr. Nazrin Steven Shah Ibni Sultan Azlan Muhibbuddin D.K., D.K.II (Selangor), D.K.S.A, S.P.C.M, S.P.T.S, S.P.M.P. (Perlis), Ph.D (Harvard).

Needless to say, the press was down in full force, and everyone was trying so hard to take a photo with him after the opening ceremony.

During the entire talk, I was trying very hard to organize a meeting with Meei Yin, one of the liaison officers from the previous edition of GACC. It was not to happen however. I didn’t know how to go to SS2, and she didn’t know how to go from any of the LRT stops. Actually perhaps there was a lack of desire to meet up as well, because I could always take a taxi to SS2 of Petaling Jaya, and she could always meet me at any LRT stops and we could take a taxi together.

My planned meeting with Lawson didn’t go down well as well. He was with his friend and their plans could not fit into my schedule for the day.

After the last workshop of the day, which saw the speaker drift horrendously out of line with the topic of ‘Soft Power’, I was introduced to Wei Ning by one of the NTU girls. There were a bunch of them actually: Wei Ning, Gary and Kim Cheong. His first remark when we introduced each other was if I had studied overseas before, and when I said I did, he said he thought so too. I would like to take that as a compliment; after all, quite a few of my friends said that I changed quite a bit after my exchange stint in Sweden.

Wei Ning looked terribly familiar, and I soon realized that he studied at VS and VJC as well. How small the world is, I realized. In fact, knowing a few Singaporeans soon brought a bigger bunch. Isabel, who have also studied in VJC joined us, Steve, a Hong Konger turned Singaporean came in, John from NUS, Hock Boon, an SPF scholar studying in Imperial College, and Hui Lin, a PSC scholar studying in University of Chicago joined the whole group, bringing the total strength to nine.

We arranged to meet up at Pasar Seni station for a dinner of Bak Kut Teh, much to my delight as not only is it a 5 minute walk from my hostel, I hadn’t had Bak Kut Teh for a long time.

It was one of the grandest dinners I had. 4 big bowls of soup, a plate of toufu, two plates of vegetables, two bowls of claypot chicken and a bowl of pig trotters later – the bill was only 13RM per person, we found ourselves walking along the streets of Chinatown. It was a walk to digest the food and all the laughter we had during the dinner, and to grab food like crackers along the way.

We called it a day after walking to the vicinity of Pudu Raya. It would be another long day ahead tomorrow, and I can only say that tomorrow’s session on education should be a blast and is not something to be missed.

Left: Busy and brightly lit streets near Pudu Raya. Pudu Raya is just further down the street.

Kuala Lumpur, Day 2

2008-09-02T14:25:00.010+07:00

20 August 2008

It was a lazy Wednesday for me, something which I hardly have these few days due to my internship. I welcome it with arms wide open, waking up at 9 am and having breakfast till 10.30 am.

Left: Pasar Seni LRT station.

The first thing I did was to buy a prepaid card to contact my friends in KL. Using a Hi Card from Singapore would cost a bomb, and since I would be here for the next 5 days, I think it would be a great investment since I could use it to contact any friends I would make during the conference.

Right: The view from Pasar Seni station.

The first person to reply to my messages was Lawson, and we agreed to meet at the Universiti LRT station. This station was where the liaison officers would always bring us to during the GACC, so it was familiar territory.

I had two hours and a half to burn before the 1.30 pm appointment, and I took this opportunity to go to Taman Jaya station to figure out the way to Hilton Petaling, the venue for the conference. It wasn’t difficult at all. Hilton Petaling stood tall amongst the other buildings, and I just had to find a way to walk towards it.

Left: Hilton Petaling, or more commonly known as Hilton PJ.

After spending two months in Ho Chi Minh City where there are no trains like these, I actually appreciated the LRT in KL. It was extremely user friendly and it makes traveling such a breeze.

This conference had a peculiar way of organizing and informing the delegates attending.

Although it was written in the schedule that came into my email just two days ago that we had to register, they didn’t provide us a venue to register, keeping the details vague. It was either UM or Hilton Petaling, and I think it made more sense to try Hilton Petaling first. The staff there told me that the HPAIR committee had made no arrangements for students like us to register, and the only thing I got from the hotel was a KL City map.

I toured the area by myself for the next hour and a half. I had ample time reflect on my time spent overseas so far, and I can only say that I had to appreciate what was on my plate and all the lessons I had ingested and digested.

Left: Trees and even roads.. ah.. a view I have missed for the past two months.

I met up Lawson at 1.15 pm. We took a bus to Midvalley and it was civilization once again. Malaysia never felt better.

We ate at Dominoes, and over the next two hours, we had plenty to talk about; me, about my travels and life so far since the start of the year, and him, about his trip to Australia in July. It is always a pleasure to talk to Lawson. His English is really much better than the ordinary students I have spoken to so far - who were more fluent in Chinese and Cantonese.

I opted to go to UM later. He had an activity at UM, and I wanted to tour UM more. Although GACC was always held at UM, I never really had the chance to explore UM.

I surfed the Internet there, and I realized that the HPAIR committee had once more, changed their schedule. Now, they have indicated registration to start at 6 pm. I glanced at my watch and it was half an hour to 6 pm. I bid farewell to Lawson at the bus stop, and although I might not meet up with him for dinner tomorrow, I felt the meeting was good considering the short notice I had given him, and also, KL and Singapore is really close. I am sure I would meet up with him again one day.

The HPAIR committee – once again – kept me waiting. They told me to wait outside for ten minutes and when I finally did collect the necessary items, they told me that there were some items I would have to collect tomorrow morning. Although I understand that the guest speakers would be people of a certain status and it is never easy organizing such events, I felt that since the conference had the word ’Harvard’ in it, many might have expected a better show from them.

I left soon after and had dinner at Marry Brown, while doing some last minute reading up for the conference tomorrow.

There was one last thing I had to do though, and that was to buy my bus ticket at Pudu Raya.
Transnasional was a very reliable coach company, and I wasn’t surprised that tickets to Singapore the coming Sunday were all snapped up. I went to the Konsortium booth, and although the Malay guy outside spoke to the people inside, the ticket price increased from a promised 30 RM to 45 RM.

I was very sure I was cheated, and when I quizzed him about the platform number which doesn’t serve Konsortium, he told me it did.

I guess I can only wait and see what coach I would take on Sunday. In any case I would not be afraid to approach him on Sunday again to get clarifications, although there might be denial on his part on that day.

Top: Chinatown! My hostel was just next to the busy and brightly lit streets of 唐人街.

I retired for the day soon after. It would be a long day ahead tomorrow.

Kuala Lumpur, Day 1

2008-09-01T13:37:00.014+07:00

19 August 2008

As I lug my backpack to the taxi waiting outside Me Linh Point Tower, I was harboring mixed feelings.

Left: Me Linh Point Tower, the building on the right.

Would the students at the Harvard Project for Asian and International Relations (HPAIR) be far too knowledgeable for my comfort? Would I ‘lose face’ over the next 4 days during the conference? Being the first conference I will be attending, I hardly know what to expect.

Meeting up with Ha to discuss her experience at the recently concluded Harvard conference could hardly prepare me for it. Moreover, Ha has this confidence oozing from her, something which six months in Sweden couldn’t bring it out in me – in fact, I only got more humble.

However, the prospect of meeting up with Lawson, a Universiti of Malaya (UM) student who was my liaison officer during my first GACC and my army friend, Eric, was something not to be missed. Of course, it would be a bonus to meet up with the other girls I got to know during the last GACC, namely Meei Yin, Hui Ping or Jellyn, but I doubt that they will meet up with me. Some of them will be in their hometown, and some others might find it inconvenient to meet, considering that over the past year, most, if not all, had already found a boyfriend, and the conservative atmosphere might put them in a spot.

The rain prevented me from reaching the Tan Soon Nhat International Airport in the usual 20 minutes. In fact, given the time – 4.15 pm – and the roads that had the center dug up to function as a make shift canal to drain the rainwater, I took almost 45 minutes to reach the airport. Of course I left ample time for this traveling time. My flight was at 7 pm, and I reached the airport at 5 pm.

Right: Tan Soon Nhat airport.

I had my dinner at the airport, and despite it costing a cool 99,000 VND – approximately S$8.50 – I had diarrhea after the meal. Thankfully I reached the airport early, and had the time to run to the washroom. These ailments are fast wearing me out. I can hardly count on food being prepared to a standard that my stomach deems fit for eating.

The flight was delayed once again, and the plane only took off at 7.30 pm. This is my second flight from Ho Chi Minh City, and twice, it has been delayed. Perhaps there are reasons behind these flight delays, and I rather the planes leave later but carry a higher safety level.

The plane was filled with Malaysians mostly, and as it took off, they were all shouting ‘Good bye, Vietnam!’ I can only say that it always feels good to fly back home, and Singapore would be my destination in a few days time for a day, before I fly off to Ho Chi Minh City to resume my internship.

Left: LCCT.

Outside LCCT, I picked up a few maps before zipping for the Skybus that will send us to KL Sentral. It wasn't hard to find the red bus with the words printed so boldy 'Air Asia'.

An hour later, it was KL Sentral, and taxi drivers starting to crowd outside the bus the minute the first passenger alighted. I took up the offer of a taxi driver, as the LRT was no longer in operation at 12 midnight and also because I was surprised at this honesty. I pointed out Matahari Lodge at Jalan Hang Kustari, and he told me 15 RM. When I asked him how much it would cost if he ran the meter, he told me 7 RM. I was surprised that he was charging me twice the normal fare, and very coolly, he said ‘You asked me, so I must tell the truth. But you must consider the time now.’

The next 20 minute taxi ride was a taxi ride I hardly ever had in Malaysia. This taxi driver was extremely fluent in English, and when I remarked that his English was really good, he told me he is an educated man, who had no choice but to drive a taxi in these hard times to keep his two children studying in Universities. While one of them was studying in UM, the other was pursuing her degree in Indonesia. I didn’t ask him the reason why he was forced to drive a taxi as it might be a sensitive issue, but nevertheless, I enjoyed talking to him.

I checked into Matahari Lodge, and the host was extremely friendly. He showed me the room, the toilets and the pantry area before I retired for the night.

Left: My room in Matahari Lodge. Clean and spacious single room.

It was the most pleasant entry to Malaysia I ever had. Everything ran smoothly, my first contact with the people here were really good. There were a few administrative stuff I would have to attend to tomorrow to get my conference running smoothly. Most importantly though, I had to arrange a meeting with my friends in my five day stay here in KL.

Suoi Tien Amusement Park

2008-08-31T15:53:00.015+07:00

3rd August 2008

The weekend was left for the visit to Suoi Tien Amusement Park, and I gladly took up the invitation to join An, Duong and Son for the day's itinerary.

It started with a 200,000 VND taxi ride to District 9 of Ho Chi Minh City and a bowl of Wanton Noodle, and a whole lot photograph taking session.

Suoi Tien Amusement Park must be catered to the locals mainly, and throughout the whole day I spotted only two Caucasians. Perhaps there were more Asian foreigners like me, but I felt that the numbers couldn't be high.

The architecture there was good, and true to Asian culture and traditions, plenty of sculptures and statues of dragons, tigers and phoenix were erected throughout the whole park.

There is no point in narrating the sequence of the stations we visited, but I will instead, let the photographs do the park justice.

Top: Me and Son, who works at Sun Microsystems.

Top: The altar.

Top: Intricate designs of the ceiling of the temple.

Top: Of dragons and phoenix...

Top: The water theme park, the main attraction in the amusement park.

Return of the Hanoi girls

2008-08-31T15:10:00.008+07:00

31st July 2008

Our previous meeting in Hanoi saw a slight possibility of Duong coming down to Ho Chi Minh City before embarking on a trip to Singapore and Malaysia. Well, she has made it happened, and I was more than happy to be able to host them.

I didn't feel any more pressure to plan the itinerary than Zong Jie and gang did - it mustn't be forgotten that Duong and An are still the locals here, although its their first time in Ho Chi Minh City.

Left: An and Duong sharing a laugh.

We met up for lunch first, and I had to return to office for the later part of the day, which meant that I would not really be able to join them for most of the day. They had their own plans however, and they met up with another Vietnamese guy who would join them in their adventures in Ho Chi Minh City.

Top, clockwise from left: An, Duong, me and Min.

I guess it would be left to the weekends for me to join in their itinerary.

A Day at the Củ Chi Tunnels

2008-08-30T13:37:00.014+07:00

20th July 2008

Plenty has been said to me about the tunnels of Củ Chi prior to my arrival in Vietnam. Of course, I had done a little reading up on these tunnels before I came to Vietnam as well.

To see it for oneself though, is probably one of the most important aspect of getting a feel of how these guerillas of the National Front for the Liberation of South Vietnam (NLF) lived during the infamous Vietnam War.

Min, Darren's girlfriend, came down to Ho Chi Minh City just yesterday, and after the initial scare of missing the flight, all was well after all, and the plans of going to the Củ Chi tunnels crystallized. We woke up extremely early to catch the bus at Phạm Ngũ Lão street, otherwise known as Backpackers' Alley, that will head to the Củ Chi district of Ho Chi Minh City.

A little must be said about the tunnels of Củ Chi.

The tunnels of Củ Chi is a complex spider-web of tunnels that, at its peak, spanned some 250 kilometers, from the Cambodian border in its West to the outskirts of Saigon, the name for Ho Chi Minh City then. The construction of the tunnels began in 1948 during the resistance movement against the French, and ever since, the network grew and played a huge role in its eventual war against the Americans until they left Vietnam in 1975.

Each tunnel was dug by hand, at a rate or perhaps 1 or 2 meters a day. As the network grew, different 'rooms' were eventually built for a variety of purposes. Arm stores, bomb shelters, hospitals, sleeping chambers, kitchens and even theatres to stage politically-motivating plays were created.

Left: The tunnels of Củ Chi. (Source: BBC News)

The tunnels frustrated the militarily superior army of the United States, and needless to say, the resourcefulness and resistance put up by the NLF fighters prolonged the war and increased the costs and casualties of the American forces until their eventual withdrawal in 1975.

Our tour guide for the day was a war veteran who fought alongside the American forces. He wasn't afraid to tell us that he was on the side of the Americans.

Right: Our tour guide who spoke English.

I have always wondered how would Vietnam be doing now had the Americans won the war. There were a lot of differences between North and South Vietnam and the reunification wasn't as simple as that of putting a few signatures down on paper.

The tunnels of Củ Chi is now an extremely touristy spot, with foreigners like us flocking the area. We watched a video detailing the life of these guerrillas during the war, from living in the tunnels to tending the crops in the night. At times, these people had to live in the tunnel for days as the American forces bombed the area relentlessly.

Left: Watching the video that costs 15,000 VND.

The next couple of hours were spent visiting the weapons gallery, crawling through the tunnels, taking photographs of the tanks that were left behind and trying out some tapioca cakes that were an essential part of their diet during the war.

Left and right :

Some of the nastiest booby traps I have ever seen. Anyone caught in these traps would most likely bleed to death than anything else.

Left and right: More booby traps.

To end it all, all of us just had to take this classical shot.

The Best of Hanoi

2008-08-30T13:13:00.012+07:00

The folllowing is a compilation of photographs courtesy of the Summer in Vietnam '08 group of NTU students.

I have picked out a few which I felt would actually be fit to be the front cover of say, a Vietnam Lovely Planet Book.

Left: The current book cover of Lonely Planet Vietnam.

In no particular order of preference, here are the photographs.

So which is your pick?

Last Day in Hanoi

2008-08-29T17:04:00.012+07:00

6th July 2008

The xe om ride to the bus station cost me 10,000 VND, although the girl I met yesterday told me that it should cost only 6000 VND. What is 4000 VND to bargain for? I wanted to begin the journey back to Hanoi immediately.

I was shoved into another bus upon reaching the bus terminal. I told the conductor I wanted to go to My Dinh bus station in Hanoi, but he just nodded and pushed me up the bus. I wasn't too afraid though - it written on the bus windscreen that the last stop would be Hanoi. Anywhere in Hanoi would be good. At least I would be able to call Hang and Wai San.

I knew very well that the bus ticket should only cost 60,000 VND, but this guy - upon knowing that I couldn't speak Vietnamese - told me by muoi nghin, which means 70,000 VND. Although I couldn't understand Vietnamese, I could understand the numbers. He was almost whispering to me this sum, because - I believe - he didn't want other locals to hear him cheating a local in bright day light.

I gave it to him. Let's see, another 10,000 VND for him and his friend to buy two bottles of drink for their hard day work - does that sound better? I couldn't be bothered to argue my way out of 10,000 VND.

My Dinh station didn't turn out to be My Dinh station. In fact, I was told to alight at Gia Lam Bus Station once more, where I started out this adventure.

Left: Gia Lam Bus Station, where someone tried to sell me a stolen camera.

I called Wai San immediately to find out where his hotel was. He was with another Singaporean friend, and thank goodness we had a pretty good understanding of each other's traveling habits. I met up with him in an easy and hassle-free fashion.

Shu Hui was her name, and she was the Singaporean Wai San was talking about, who had been working in Hanoi for three years now. She speaks a little Vietnamese, and she brought us to this other restaurant for a meal of Bun Cha.

Wai San arranged to meet up with another Hanoi girl, whom he always claimed could be Miss Vietnam 2011. Don't ask me 2011, but it was probably just a figure he churned out with the other NTU students who met Duong before.

Duong brought along another friend, and we hit a cafe for coffee and a chit-chat session.

Left: Chilling out in a cafe.

Over the table, Duong told us about her plans to visit Singapore and Malaysia, and I suggested to her coming down to Ho Chi Minh City when Darren's girlfriend would come down, as Darren and his girlfriend would be booking another room for themselves.

The plans having been laid out in it bare skeleton, we called it a day. I wanted to meet up with Hang for dinner as she had been extremely helpful and deserved a treat.

The four of - Wai San, me, Hang and Shu Hui - went to a touristy restaurant for a meal, where we talked and laughed plenty about many different issues. In fact, I wished the day would last longer. Hang's English was good enough to merge into our conversation, and I didn't want to start my internship so soon. If it wasn't for the fact that my flight was delayed, I wouldn't be having such a wonderful dinner.

Top: The four of us. From left, Hang, Wai San, me and Shu Hui.

Top: The scene outside the restaurant.

We rushed back to the hotel at about 9.40 pm. Over the phone, Shu Hui booked the airport taxi for me, and it was the fastest I ever took to pack my luggage - 5 minutes.

I bid Shu Hui and Wai San farewell, and left for the airport.

There was a small commotion at the airport when I asked for compensation or some letter for my insurance company, and the staff - despite it being an airport - hardly spoke any English. They kept pushing me from one to another, and each of them kept pointing out the departure time to me, obviously not understanding my wish to obtain some form of compensation or letter from Jetstar.

I almost left feeling exasperated. Even the staff at the airport couldn't understand English, but the supervisor came over and offered me 60,000 VND as a goodwill compensation. I accepted it without any delay - this 60,000 VND would come in handy for my cab ride back.

I reached my hostel at Ho Chi Minh City at 3.30 am.

My first day of work would start at 8.45 am, and I would be very tired.

This trip, has however, been a memorable one. In fact, I can't remember any travel which hadn't made an impression on me.

Ha Long City

2008-08-29T15:47:00.015+07:00

5th July 2008

Wai San, me and Hang met up in the living room later than planned.

I guess it was to be expected, given the late hour which we all slept at, and also the fact that they had nothing to rush for, while my plans with Ha Long Bay were extremely flexible. Our research yesterday told us that the last bus departing Ha Long for Hanoi would be in the afternoon, which meant that I only had the first half of the day to tour the area.

We stepped out and were greet by vendors selling their goods in the early morning. While I was eager to hunt for breakfast, Hang and Wai San were more flexible. Hence, we decided to board a bus to Gia Lam Bus Station, where buses would depart for Ha Long City.

Left: Vendors selling their goods along the walkway.

Sometime in the bus, I decided to stay overnight at Ha Long City for a night. It would take approximately three hours to reach Ha Long City from Hanoi, and there would not be enough time to tour the area and catch the last bus back to Hanoi.

Right: On board a Vietnam bus.

After stocking up my bag with food from a supermarket, we headed for Gia Lam Bus Station. Up till this point, Hang has been extremely helpful, securing a ticket for me to head to Ha Long City. However, the time has arrived for us to separate our ways for a day at least, and while I board the bus heading to Mong Cai, I realise that I was clueless where to stop to take a taxi to Ha Long City. I only had a brief assurance from Hang, who told me that the bus conductor would 'chase' me out at the appropriate stop.

Hence, here begins my adventure.

The bus ride was anything but comfortable. For a cost of 60,000 VND - approximately S$5.20 - the bus made many stops while the conductor stood at the door and shouted to people on the streets, and many of them actually boarded the bus. A two seater soon accommodated three people, and it wasn't helpful at all that the person on my right was a worker who had worked his socks off for the day. He was drenched in sweat and his head kept hitting my shoulder as he dozed off.

The time finally came when the conductor 'chased' me off the bus. In actual fact, he was a very friendly guy in his own way. He was full of smiles when he pointed out a shoddy looking bus terminal, and gesturing wildly, he pointed out Ha Long City in another direction.

I alighted and was - almost immediately - swarmed by xe om riders and taxi drivers.

For a moment I was lost, but after a quick phone call to Hang, I regained my bearings and took a taxi to Ha Long City. I would have to check into a hotel first, but I refrained from telling the taxi driver that I was looking for a khach san, or hotel, lest he bring me to the most expensive one to earn a little commission himself.

The taxi ride amounted to another 60,000 VND, and I was starting to feel the pinch. Should I take a taxi every time I needed a ride, I would be broke by the end of the week.

I walked around Ha Long City and decided upon a Bip Bop Hotel, not because it was cheap or whatever, but because the staff could speak a little Mandarin. I profess that I am not extremely fluent in Mandarin myself, and it soon became apparent when I wanted to find out the way to the harbour to take the cruise around Ha Long Bay. She couldn't understand 码头and I couldn't find any other way to describe it.

To resolve the issue, once again - and feeling extremely paiseh - I called Hang once more to speak to the staff at the reception counter. For 15 minutes I was trying to tell her I wanted to take a cruise, whereas it took only 15 seconds for her to understand Hang.

The staff was extremely helpful though. She brought me outside to get a xe om - yes, I have decided to take xe om to protect my wallet a little more - and negotiated what I believe, was an extremely fair deal. For 20,000 VND, he would bring to the harbour.

Upon reaching the harbour, however, a new problem arose. I was the only passenger, and the owner would only let me tour the place if I paid 200,000 VND for an hour of cruise. I was reluctant, and didn't hesitate to say 'mac qua!' - it's too expensive. The xe om rider started to gesture to me something and pointed the seat of his motorbike to me. I got a rough picture of it - he was trying to tell me that he would bring me to another place to take a boat.

The following is an example of what you shouldn't do, and despite my instincts and experience telling me that it was an extremely bad decision to hop on the bike, I did exactly that.

The xe om rider brought me to a touristy wharf to board a boat. Along the way, I didn't like the feeling though. As he was approaching the wharf, he started shouting to a woman across the road, and after turning into the car park, the woman started to tell me that the xe om rider would like 50,000 VND for this trip. I told him it was too much, and told him 20,000 VND.

A mini argument ensued, and the woman grabbed my arm - something which the Vietnamese are very fond of doing during negotiations with customers - and literally pulled me to a tourism office, where the staff spoke English. There, negotiations continued. I told the staff that if I were to pay 50,000 VND, I would be left without money for a ride back to my hotel.

We spent perhaps a good 15 - 20 minutes, before the lady pulled me to yet another lady who spoke little English as well. I was sick of the situation at this point. When the other lady told me that the xe om rider would settle for 40,000 VND, I gave him 40,000 VND immediately.

Nothing however, could have prepared me for the next phase of negotiations.

After paying the xe om rider 40,000 VND, this lady immediately offered me a ticket on board the boat for US$25. US$25 might not be a lot to an American, but I was told at the other harbour that I could have the entire boat to myself for 200,000 VND - approximately S$17.
Without talking further, I headed straight for the official ticketing office.

The staff at the ticketing office was out to give me a heart attack though. She said that due to the lack of passengers, I could have the entire boat for 700,000 VND. After having been pushed, pulled and shoved around, I didn't even want to negotiate with her. When I heard the price tag she put on the boat, I left immediately. She grabbed my arm - yes, once more - and said, OK, 500,000 VND.

I had only 1 day to this part of the city, so I didn't take up the offer. Rather, I decided that I would try to negotiate on the US$25 ticket.

I left the ticketing office disgusted.

I approached the lady who offered me US$25, and before I could bargain for a better price, she told me her boat was full, and offered to introduce me to another tout. I was plain disgusted at the way events have turned out so far. I told her no, and I walked away.

There were no words to describe the feelings of disgust and disappointment that overwhelmed me. I was sure that this would be the only chance I have this year to visit Ha Long Bay, and I took a huge risk coming down here alone. Hang's parents voiced out concern about me traveling alone without knowledge of the Vietnamese language, but I felt that I had to catch Vietnam's first World Heritage Site. My courage had not rewarded me well.

I walked along the wharf, choosing to absorb the site from the river bank instead.

Left: The rock formations characterising Ha Long Bay.

Right: Posters along the bank.

I took a xe om back to my hotel, found a small coffee shop to have a bowl of pho, and headed straight to the hotel. I was lucky enough that a girl who happened to be at the reception counter spoke decent English, and she gave me instructions on how to return to Hanoi.

I went back to my room, flipping through the channels while deciding how early to wake up tomorrow. I wanted to leave this place as soon as I can. It was sickening to know that I had spent all my money and not be rewarded with a cruise.

Left: The last scene before I reached my hotel. Some kids set a rat on fire.

There was nothing much on the television anyway. They were broadcasting a soccer match that clearly, was between two amateur teams and their all-too-famous variety show with their army - synchronised clapping of their hands over their heads - as the audience.

I decided to wake up at 5.30 am tomorrow.

Ha Long Bay sure looked good, but my experience was definitely forgettable.

Hanoi Day 2

2008-08-15T12:13:00.015+07:00

4th July 2008

Although the alarm went off at 9 in the morning, it wasn’t until 11 am did I pull myself out of bed. The 33 hour train ride was definitely tiring and had we not had a lunch appointment with Hang, Wai San and I might have checked out of the hostel at 2 pm.

Wai San had been in this area before, so after checking out of the hotel, we headed for Hang’s house without delay. The day’s itinerary was very much in her hands, as we had nothing planned. Somewhere in the back of my head I wanted to visit Halong Bay, but that was not urgent; I could still change my plans depending on the situation.

We went to Hang’s house for lunch and was treated to – in my opinion – a very traditional Vietnamese meal. There was rice, vegetables, soup, and beef which always seem a little too raw for us.

Left: First lunch in Hanoi.

Nevertheless I felt it was a good meal; something which definitely filled my stomach and restored my energy. Meals in Ho Chi Minh City always left me wanting more – not that it was delicious, but more because each serving was always so little, I always ordered at least two servings.

Hang’s cousin, My, a very small sized and petite 20 year old, came soon after, and another of Hang’s friend – also Hang – came along too. The day’s itinerary would be to the pottery village Bat Trang village, about 10 kilometers away from the centre of Hanoi. We would need to change three buses to reach there, which probably signals a long day ahead.

We took a bus outside Hang’s house. It was the first bus I would take here in Vietnam, and probably the most memorable. As the bus pulled up to pick us up, it didn’t stop completely. 5 of us were boarding the bus and I happened to be the last, and before I even set foot on the stairs, the bus started moving off. I ran after the bus, grabbed hold of the handle on the door, placed my right foot on the stair – and the bus was already moving off in full swing.

Actually Wai San did tell me about this scenario before I boarded the bus, but I wasn’t expecting anything of this sort. I was expecting the bus to be in the ‘biting-point’, where it would be moving but not in the full-swing.

After witnessing something like this while I was boarding, I was determined not to get injured while alighting. This means hopping off the bus real soon before passengers board it – people get off and on both doors of the bus – and before the bus moves off in full swing again.

Of course, the people boarding the bus would not want to chase the bus like I did earlier, so similarly, they would want to board the bus before people alight as well. This resulted in a push-push scenario at the door. It was at this point I realized that simple things like this, done repetitively over the years, probably made it harder for the immigrants to change their behavior when they set foot in Singapore. I am, of course, referring to the all too well known peculiar behaviors of the Chinese Nationals in Singapore. Not all Mainlanders harbor weird behaviors though – some of them could actually be your best friends in school.

We changed another two buses before hitting the Pottery Village.

Left: Pottery Village

Pottery village offers more than just potteries, although the main attraction still seems to be the exquisitely designed potteries. We spent the day touring the shops and asking the prices of the paintings, although none of us were interested in buying. Some of these paintings really do look impressive, and if I was returning to Singapore straight after this Hanoi trip, I might have just bought one. But as it is, Hanoi is only a four day trip out of my 22 weeks in Vietnam.

We tried our hands on pottery making at a shop which Hang frequents. Here, we sat on stools with a manual turn table in front of us, and we were given a small basin of water and a small lump of clay to work with.

Left: Small stools where we sat and worked.

It was definitely much harder than I expected. The lady working in the shop helped all of us with the starting – shaping the lump of clay to an almost perfect sphere, putting it on the turn table, spinning it with her left hand while gently lowering the thumb of her right hand into the centre of the lump of clay. In a few deft strokes, the shape was perfect for us to begin our creative works.

I wanted to create a small jug – one without a handle as I felt it was a little too challenging, but with a small protrusion as a spout. The initial stage was really new to me – spinning the turn table and making sure the clay didn’t get out of shape too much – and I had to remove the whole lump of clay and start anew a few times. Finally I got the hang of it, but another problem sprang – somehow I exerted too much pressure at certain points, and certain areas became really thin and even tore – and I had to start all over again.

Finally my creation started to look decent - somehow it resembled a miniature toilet bowl. Wai San and Hang had already given up at this time, while the other Hang and My had created a very nice bowl and cup respectively. Ah… It at this point I gave up also. I gave up not because I was tired of it, but because I didn’t want to hold any of them back. I was pretty sure that I ever manage to successfully shape a decent jug, the plate and cup which My and Hang No.2 had made would already have been painted and cured successfully.

Wai San and I decided to go back to Hang’s house and see if we could stay there for the night before deciding on dinner. Upon reaching her house, Hang’s parents allowed us to stay there for one night, and we had dinner there as well.

We chatted well into the night and had to break up the conversation when Hang’s father felt it was inappropriate for a girl to be talking to guys so late in the night. We left for the guest room in the house while Hang left for her room.

It wasn’t long before we met up at the computer desk again though. I had plans to go Halong Bay tomorrow and to make it crystallize, I had to use the Internet and get some opinions and advise from Hang. The topic went beyond Halong Bay and I was glad it did.

After getting the necessary information about Halong Bay, we chatted until 2 am. It was really quite a delight talking to Hang. Her English is as good as a Singaporean, and it was no surprise that she got some award in school for some English examinations.

Reluctantly we ended the conversation as we agreed to head out tomorrow morning at 7.30 am. This left me with really little sleep, but nevertheless, I still felt it was worth the conversation the three of us had.

When would I meet another Vietnamese who is so fluent in English?

A 33 hour train ride to Hanoi, Part 2

2008-08-12T18:17:00.007+07:00

3rd July 2008

We woke up to the laughter and shouting of the kids.

I was stiff and aching all over from the extremely low ceiling and rock hard bed, I could hardly get down. Wai San woke up soon after too, with almost the same aches and pains. There was no way I am heading back to the bed – I’d rather drain coffee and caffeine into my bloodstream to keep myself awake.

We headed to the canteen for lunch at about 12, and joined two other locals on a table due to the limited space. It was here that he pointed out to us a small piece of paper which was stuck to the window – and I realized that there was a limit of 30 minutes per customer. This explains the vendor’s behavior yesterday, and although I felt a bit disappointed at the time limit, I feel that this is their ‘rule’ which we should obey.

Top: The view from the window, while we laze our day away.

We went back to our chairs at the corridor outside our room, and the kids have totally warmed up to our presence. Between hitting us and laughing at the words ‘No no no...’ which I always emphasize to get him to stop hitting me WWE style, I realized that the kids just want attention. The two packets of jackfruit chips came in handy and they dug into it with so much vigor that I didn’t want to eat it anymore.

We soon lost our chairs though, to this man who really looks like a Chinese National. While he was pushing his cart of food to sell to people in the cabins, we moved right to the end of the carriage to allow him to move, but there was a huge crowd gathering at the end, as the train was approaching one of the stops, and people were all too eager to alight. He started to tell us off pretty loudly, while gesturing to our small stools we were holding in our hands. Convinced that we didn’t understand what he was driving at, he grabbed our stools and threw it in one of the small room adjacent to the toilet.

I am not sure what he was trying to achieve, but in any case, he still couldn’t move beyond us due to the huge crowd in front of us. After the people alighted, the squeeze at the end gradually eased itself, and someone grabbed our stools as well.

We went back to the room and just stood around. There was about ten hours left to the train ride.

Upon returning to the room, the bantering with the kids continued. One half of the family left the train earlier though. I am not sure if they left the train altogether or simply shifted to another cabin, but at one of the station, a lady with an infant came into the cabin together with an elderly woman. This lady spoke English, and when they heard me telling the seven year old kid – who was sitting on my lap while I was squatting on the floor – the all too well known phrase ‘ Toi khong noi Tieng Viet. Toi noi Tieng Anh.’ , they burst out laughing, and she asked Wai San if we were from Singapore.

Top: Wai San having fun with the kids.

The endurance test soon came to an end. At about ten pm, we left the train.

Hanoi!

As usual, we were swarmed with hordes of xe om riders, and this particular one tagged Wai San for quite a distance. We were tired and frustrated, and the xe om riders were definitely irritating. When Wai San said ‘No!’ the rider seemed bent to continue to win the argument with ‘No what?’.

Honestly I cannot understand what benefit would he get by tagging someone who has already shown no intention to take the xe om. Being approached by a xe om rider is one thing, but to be harassed by one is another. If I politely say ‘No’ or ‘ Khong’ to one, I don’t see the point behind harassing me further. This bad habit has left me frustrated on many occasions in Ho Chi Minh City, especially during the rainy days. I would be approached by one of these riders when I am standing and evaluating my options in the shelter, and when I say ‘khong”, shaking my head and waving a unmistakable no to them, they would continue talking to me in their language and harassing me, until I force myself to walk away.

Why? Are they bent on chasing me away? Will it satisfy them only when I walk away? I can’t even take a breather to evaluate my options. Do they realize they are chasing people away?

We met Hang and My, Hang’s cousin at a Lotteria nearby.

Well, I have to admit that Hang’s English was really pretty good, much better than the average Vietnamese students I had talked to so far.

We hopped on their motorbikes after the meal and they brought us to a hotel. The first hotel we went to was apparently not available, because examination papers were housed there. The second hotel we went to had an available room for us, and although the door couldn’t be locked from the inside, we didn’t care so much.

We would stay here for one night only and would leave this place tomorrow morning. Moreover, I was far too tired to leave the hotel for any long exploration.

Hanoi at last!

A 33 hour train ride to Hanoi, Part 1

2008-08-12T18:07:00.006+07:00

2nd July 2008

My brother and I had already decided upon this trip when he came down to Ho Chi Minh City a week ago, so there wasn’t much planning to do, not that we really feel the need to do any planning at all, because he got to know a few locals who would, without doubt, help us along the way.

We had a short discussion whether to take a plane to Hanoi, or to take the local train. A plane would cost about S$30 more than the train ride, but really, there wasn’t much to discuss. Wai San wanted to better his record of a 24 hour train ride he took in China, while I wanted to better my record of a 14 hour train ride I took in Sweden.

We decided to buy our train tickets at a travel agency, as our research told us that these travel agencies had the habit of buying out all the train tickets in advance to re-sell them to travelers. I am not sure how accurate these articles are, but nevertheless, Wai San and I didn’t want to waste our time. We paid an extra US$4 per person to get our tickets at a travel agency.

For a start, we had trouble finding the train station. The unit number was No.1, but the taxi driver stopped us at No.2, unable to find No. 1 after circling the area for some time.

Left: The train station finally.

We alighted from the cab, determined to find the train station. We asked the locals around the area and finally, we found the train station. No. 1 is in fact, no where near No.2. Somehow the numbers might not run in order, we realize.

The interior of the train had a layout similar to the ones we took in Europe. With beds and a narrow corridor, the only significant difference was that everything was more worn out and looked so much more antique. The bed we selected was a ‘hard-sleeper’, and it was indeed how the name described it. A sheet covered the metal plate, throw in the pillow and blanket, and there was our ‘hard-sleeper’ bed.

Left: Narrow corridors

While trying to find our cabin, we approached some people in the train in a similar situation. In fact the people around were simply too enthusiastic to offer their help – I was slightly angry with this guy who was pulling at my ticket in order to see which cabin I have been assigned to. The fact was that we never approached him, and I thought he lacked a lot of common sense if he didn’t realize that he had to use an extraordinary amount of force to tug at my ticket - it was that obvious that I had no plans to allow the ticket to leave my hand. If he pulled at my ticket once and realized that it is not off my hands, he should stop – but no, he continued pulling and tugging.

I put the incident aside. One thing I have realized in my short stay here so far was that whatever etiquette expected of a citizen in a developed country, I can never expect here, and it was unfair of me to compare.

We shared our cabin with a family of 6.

Wai San and I didn’t stay in the cabin for long. We headed to the canteen at the head of the train, wanting to escape the narrow room and corridors and leaving that experience to the night, when we retire for the day.

We ordered two Cokes and sat in the canteen, but barely had an hour passed, the lady working in the canteen asked us to leave. We left, reluctantly and perplexed. Another strange system to obey, I suppose?

We returned to the corridor and fished out two small stools along the way to our room. Occupying half the stretch of the corridor, we sat outside our room. I bought two packets of jackfruit chips, with the intention to give it to the small kids in the cabin some time in the next thirty hours or so.

We were expecting dinner to be served, but it never came. Instead, we made our way to the canteen once more. There seemed to be ‘chicken rice’ on their menu only, so we ordered it. Chicken rice, is in fact, deceiving. It is perhaps more appropriate to say ‘rice with chicken’. Two small pieces of chicken and a small portion of rice later, we ordered another two cokes to drag our time in the canteen. Perhaps the lady there was not too pleased with us, but in any case, I didn’t care too much. The small corridor and foul stench along one of the room was more unpleasant than the stares we receive from her.

Eventually we left canteen to retire for the night. We expected a bad quality of sleep – the hard sleeper was really hard – so we wanted to be able to make up for it with some quantity.

We hung around outside our room before going in. It was during this time that the kids inside started to play around with us. The kids are actually quite adorable, although they seem to enjoy hitting us – I think WWE has made it way into the hearts of Vietnamese kids – and I try to avoid that by distracting them to do something else.

Top: Watching the sun set, and waiting for time to pass.

We went off to bed when the kids’ energies could no longer support their wrestling moves.

A long journey awaits us and I can’t imagine how tired I would feel tomorrow.

To market, to market, to find a fat pig…

2008-08-07T11:30:00.039+07:00

There is always this perception that things in Vietnam would be significantly cheaper compared to Singapore, so it wasn’t surprising that we decided to explore the markets as soon as we had the time.

In my opinion, there wasn’t really a need to visit too many markets; typically they all look about the same.

The three of us, Jeremy, Darren and me visited markets in two areas in Ho Chi Minh City. One of them was the ever popular and well known Bến Thành Market in District 1, and the other two we visited were in Chợ Lớn, one being the Binh Tay Market, and the other, well, I can’t really quite remember.

District 1 is where we are staying at, so it was rather convenient to go to Bến Thành Market. Chợ Lớn is the Chinatown in Ho Chi Minh City, spanning district 5 and district 6 in Ho Chi Minh City, with the Binh Tay Market as its central market.

Top: The shop in Chợ Lớn where we bought our weasel coffee.

Top: Selling fresh prawns and seafood outside the market.

Although it is true that the shirts on sale here in the markets are significantly cheaper than those in the pasar malam in Singapore, the quality is significantly worse off too. Often very thin and looking like they could be ripped off by the slightest tug, the cost of one shirt depended very much on one’s bargaining skills as well. The thickest-skinned vendors will not hesitate to quote US$5 for a red shirt with a single yellow star on it if they think you look like a foreigner, and often the price can go much lower to about US$1.50.

One of the most common tactics employed by them is to quote you a ridiculously high price, and after your failed attempts to bring it down to the price you want, they will grab your arm and pull you back as you walk away in disgust. They will pack everything into this small black bag and shove it in your arms, and accept the price you quoted. More often than not, this price will still earn them a tidy profit.

If I ever need a shirt urgently for the next day or so, I will visit these markets. Honestly, however, I will never buy something here if I do not need it urgently. Not only do I dislike the hassling and bargaining part, I seriously do not like to be cheated. To me, there is no honesty in such deals and never a fair price. Every customer around these markets will pay a different price for similar items, and I wouldn’t be happy even I paid the lowest price for a shirt – I would be unhappy for the person who paid three times the amount for the same shirt I bought.

Top: The scene outside Bến Thành Market.

I understand that this is probably their way of life here, and I respect that. I guess they have their own reasons for doing that and as a foreigner here, I can only say that it is indeed an eye opener.

Left: Wonderful claypot chicken and San Miguel!

On a lighter and more pleasant note, however, I really enjoy eating at Bến Thành Market. Disregarding the fact that they cook the food at the back of the tents which half the time, looks impossible to be a kitchen, the food is cheap and really good, especially if you eat in a big group.

It might be a problem if you intend to stay up late here as the stall owners pack up at about midnight, but overall, I enjoy dining here.

Top: What a spread! Only part of the table was captured on the camera though.

I have had quite a few meals at the Bến Thành Market, and I had to say they were the best meals I had in Ho Chi Minh City so far.

Top: Kian Lee and Zong Jie

Top: Darren and me.

Top: Chen Qing and Darren

Top: Me and Ha

Top: The lovely couple, Darren and Min.

And so, in the spirit of the famous jingle by Mother Goose, here we go…

"To market, to market, to find a fat pig…

Home again, home again, jiggety-jig..."

I am sure I will visit Bến Thành Market once more before I leave Vietnam.

More lessons and more meetings

2008-07-30T09:38:00.009+07:00

As lessons drew closer to the end, so did Euro 2008 and meetings with the group of NTU students from the ‘Summer in Vietnam 2008’ program.

Over the week, I gradually met more and more NTU people. One
common thing I had with this group of people was that we are here seeking fun and enjoyment. Well, so much for my internship – I am here more to experience life and Vietnam than the coming internship.

Left: The corridor in Vietnam National University

When your mind is bent on that, there’s nothing better than sharing a couple of drinks and talking the night away at a club, with the further option of hitting the dance floor for more adventures that might possibly occur.

Top: Wai San, Xiu Wen and me.

After hitting the club Lush with Xiu Wen, Alan, Zong Jie and Wai San earlier, the bigger group of them decide to hit Lush once more. To give Stephanie a chance to say all her goodbye speeches at Lush mightn’t be the best venue, but nonetheless it worked out anyway. Due to some mistake on the staff’s part, the manager even gave the group of us free shots of tequila.

Top: A big group of us, with free tequila shots.

Lush, in fact, became a place I went to frequently to meet up with Wai San and them. After another chill out session with Chen Qing, Kian Lee and Darren, Zong Jie and I headed to Lush once more the next day to meet up with the group, but not before picking Alan up. Although most of them were suffering from various degrees of diarrhea, the last night in Ho Chi Minh City was not a night to pass by without Lush.

This was to be the last time I would see most of them. Most will head back, but some like Wai San and Zong Jie will be traveling to Cambodia first before returning to Ho Chi Minh City. I made some plans to travel to Hanoi with Wai San, but these will only be finalized when he returns from his Cambodia trip.

It is always easier to travel with someone whom you know well and who knows you well, and I think it will be quite some time before I will see him again. And when I do, it will be his last semester in NTU, so life would probably be busier than.

I can’t believe sometimes – not that I am very well traveled, but you get the idea – that catching up with my brother would not take place in our home country, but somewhere else instead. It seems like our perception of the world has changed in no small amount – but still, we have so much to see, so much to learn.

To travel to Hanoi will be great. Firstly I get to talk to my brother more about my Sweden experience, just like how much he had to say about his China experience when I met up with him in Hong Kong last year, and secondly, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to meet Hang, a girl whom he got to know in Hanoi.

See you then, Hanoi.

Lessons and meeting up with my brother and other Singaporeans

2008-07-29T10:58:00.014+07:00

Struggling to pull myself out of bed every morning ever since Euro 2008 started, I have to admit the temptation to skip lessons were great. Lessons would start at 7.45 am every morning, with a lunch break at 12 pm, followed by a 2 hour Vietnamese lessons at 1 pm.

Some lessons were interesting, while some were literally a competition between the three of us to see who fell asleep first.

Left: The professor talking about traditional Vietnamese food. She's holding pork that is wrapped in leaves. I vaguely remember that the pork is different from the ordinary ones - but in what aspect, I have cleanly forgotten. This lesson was one of the more interesting ones.

Sometimes the translator drifted off as well. No matter how boring the lessons – many of them had a translator to do the translating, which results in a 5 minutes speech being dragged to a 15 minute one – I knew that this would beat work in the future anyway.

Left: Pastry. This particular one was good.

Right: Glutinous rice.

These lessons will only last for a total of 12 working days, and although I would have loved it to be 12 weeks instead, I knew that the main focus of this GIP program would be the internship part.

My brother would finally be hitting Ho Chi Minh City after 3 weeks of traveling in Northern and Central Vietnam, and so we have decided to meet up tonight. It dawned on me that I haven’t really talked to him proper for almost a year. After our backpacking trip to Europe, he went off to China for a 6 months internship, and I joined him in the later parts only, in Hong Kong and Macau. The next semester saw me flying off to Sweden for half a year of exchange.

I am sure we would have plenty to catch up.

The ‘Summer in Vietnam 2008’ program saw a total of 27 students from Nanyang Technological University heading down to Vietnam for a month long trip. Needless to say, I didn’t mind meeting up with other Singaporeans as well.

I met Wai San at the Rex hotel, along with three other friends of his, Alan and Zong Jie, both of whom he knew from his GIP China program and Diana. We headed to this small cafe to have overpriced beer and ice cream, but having not been here in Ho Chi Minh City for long, I didn’t know where to bring them to hang out at 9 pm.

Diana left soon after, but the three of us stayed and talk cock till the cafe closed. The talk ranged from Singapore to Hanoi; from girls they met in Vietnam to girls I met in Sweden – basically anything under the sun. I have to admit it has been quite some time since I had such a talking cock session; I thoroughly enjoyed it. We called it a day when the cafe closed as they wanted to catch some sleep before the soccer match started. It would matter for me – I could always skip lessons, but they have paid for the travel and it would not do justice to their wallets to skip the itinerary.

We agreed to meet up more often in the coming days, and I can’t wait.

Top: From left, me, Zong Jie, Wai San and Alan.

Good Morning, Vietnam!

2008-07-27T20:17:00.017+07:00

16th June 2008

One week after coming back from Sweden, here I go again! Shoving another 6 months worth of stuff into my backpack – although its significantly easier as Ho Chi Minh City does not experience the winter season – and 24 hours later, I found myself waking up to the bright Vietnam sun.

Good Morning, Vietnam!

I first received news of my internship in Vietnam in March, during the cold, dark Swedish winters, and it is incredible how fast time has blitzed. As I step out into the exhaust-filled air outside, I find it almost unbelievable that what I have set out to achieve last year – to complete one year of my undergraduate studies abroad – is on the verge of realizing itself. Work might be different from studies, I agree, but at least I know that I have tried.

The situation here, I realize, is vastly different from Singapore and Sweden, as I attempt to cross the heavy Saigon traffic.

On the roads, horns are constantly blared, while the two-wheelers balancing everything – from a family of four to a refrigerator - weave in and out of the heavy traffic. Zebra crossings are nothing more than white strips drawn on the roads – nobody obeys them, not the pedestrians and needless to say, the motorcyclists. Crossing the road requires one to step out on to road and walk slowly, in a predictable manner, and let the motorcyclists on the xe om zoom behind and in front of you.

Do not bother to wear a made-in-Vietnam mask; they are nothing more than cloth filters that filter the smell of the carbon-monoxide filled air only. The air quality here is bad, no doubt, and I am sure even the locals would agree with me, or at least the motorcyclists who wear the cloth masks.

As the three of us – me, Darren and Jeremy - step into the school for our daily dosage of language and cultural classes, we realized that the class has only the three of us as students. Well, talk about small class sizes. Somehow I feel kind of uneasy with such a small class size – how am I to catch up on sleep and Euro 2008?

I would leave that to the future, I guess.

Lessons would range from interesting topics like the Vietnam war to the Doi Moi Economic reform, to boring topics craft-guilds in South Vietnam, and of course, the Vietnamese language course. I am not especially keen in picking up a new language, but almost no commoners here speak decent-English here, so I guess I would have to pick up a few words and phrases to help me ease into this community.

We explored the streets of Ho Chi Minh City after our lesson. Relying heavily on a map which one of our GIP seniors lent us yesterday, we decided to hit the town area of District 1.

Left and right: The Notre Dame Cathedral. Look at the number of motorcycles on the right - and it isn't even the peak hour yet.

I can’t say for sure if it really is the town area – honestly the streets look the same everywhere – but over here, there are more shops, including a shopping mall called Parkson where even the Singapore Tourism Board has an office in it, promoting Singapore universities.

We had to buy ourselves the basic necessities like water and local SIM cards, so it was a good time to combine exploration and practical needs. There will surely be more places we need to visit during our 6 months here – places in Ho Chi Minh City like Ben Thanh, to Chinatown in District 5, to the all too well-known built-up area of District 7 where I have heard that it is almost hard to believe that it is Vietnam at all when you step foot there, to the places near Ho Chi Minh City like the Cu Chi tunnels, or further away like Dalat – but I think I will take it slowly this time round.

Top: From left, Darren, me and Jeremy outside the post office.

Top: The interior of the post office with a portrait of Uncle Ho in the center.

As the day wither away, the air draining our energy away, we decided to call it a day after having a 14000 Dong bowl of noodles – approximately S$1.10 – for dinner. It is only a few days away before I will meet up Wai San as his group of ‘Summer in Vietnam 2008’ friends head down to Ho Chi Minh, and I think I will have late nights for that week that they will be here, so perhaps it might not be too bad an idea to call it early for these few days.

Good Night, Vietnam!

Last Glimpses of Forskarbacken 21, Level 2

2008-07-16T20:55:00.004+07:00

Room 218 was finally cleared of all the clutter.

The room was back to the state it was before I shifted in, but nevertheless, room 218 is more significant to me now. The friends in the corridor, the people I have hosted, the drinking sessions in the kitchen and the mess I created in my room – all of these has given more meaning to room 218.

Top: My room on the final day.

Top and bottom: The corridor

Top: The kitchen

Top: This note never fails to tickle me. The history of it? You can ask anyone staying at Forskarbacken 21.

I don't think I will ever I forget this place which has given me so much in the past 5 months.

Kungliga Tekniska högskolan (KTH)

2008-07-16T20:19:00.013+07:00

Apart from traveling and drinking, school is the other reason why I am in Sweden. Well, actually school is the official reason, although it seems like it’s the last reason why I am here.

The Royal Institute of Technology has been my school for the past 5 months or so, and although I have never religiously attended all the classes, I have to say that it was interesting attending Master Level courses despite being in my second year of Bachelor’s only, and seeing the way examinations are taken here.

I started off nervously.

Left: Kungliga Tekniska högskolan

For the first half of the semester, I had only one lesson every week: Swedish Society, Culture and Industry in Historical Perspective, much to the surprise and occasional envy of the other Singaporean students. It might sound good, but I was perpetually worried about the transfer of credits. I wanted to take another course, but I am still clueless why it was conducted in Swedish in the end. The previously approved subject Advanced Materials was replaced by Functional Materials, which MAE did not approve me to take, hence it was two courses down.

The coordinator of the course European Business Culture never replied to my mail, meaning I never got to know where and when the lessons were going to be conducted. The other course which was easy to enroll in was Swedish 1, Elementary Level, but languages were tough and it was conducted online. I had to complete chapters of it periodically, which I did, as I would take it up should I not be able to find an easier alternative.

Things got better after the first half though. Introduction to Biomechanics and Biomaterials were conducted in English, thankfully, and another course conducted by the Swedish School of Entrepreneurship Design and Innovation in Context was approved by NTU. Out of purely practical reasons I signed up for an easy course Information Searching for International Students to replace my Unrestricted Elective. I wanted to transfer as many modules as possible back home.

These details sure seem boring to the guy who has no intentions whatsoever to go for an exchange program, but to someone with the intention to do an exchange program, subject matching is never an easy task. Last minute changes to the school’s handbook, language of instruction and a subject’s prerequisite are just some of the issues that may arise.

Hence it was five subjects in the last three months. School wasn’t really busy, but I became very busy as I squeezed travel and assignments together. Unlike many people whose traveling plans depended on their school schedule, mine was the other way around – schooling schedule depended on my travel plans. The weather was simply too good to not do a fair bit of traveling. Winter was depressing, spring was wonderful.

Boring details aside, the history of KTH is indeed colorful. The school developed alongside with the demands of the country, but the most significant bit to me though, was the nuclear reactor located at the basement of the school. Reaktor 1, as it was known, was established for nuclear research. Since this area was closely guarded by the Americans during the period after World War II, Swedish scientists had to start from scratch, and Reaktor 1 was the site of nuclear research.

Eventually Reaktor 1 was decommissioned in 1970. It was simply too dangerous to have a nuclear facility in the midst of a densely populated Stockholm.

Right: Numbers on the ceiling

We got a tour of Reaktor 1 during the course of Swedish Society, Culture and Industry in Historical Perspective.

Left: The lecturer and course coordinator
Arne Kaijser on the right, giving us details about the reactor.

Subsequently in the later months of April and May, I skipped a lot of lessons of Swedish Society, Culture and Industry in Historical Perspective, as I had to attend the other course Design and Innovation in Context, not forgetting the traveling part.

As I took a tour around the school that has given me reason to travel, drink and learn more about myself, I know that school in Sweden has ended for me, and with that, the end of my stay in Europe is not far away.

My Farewell Dinner, 3rd June 2008

2008-07-15T22:50:00.021+07:00

As soon as I got my return ticket to Singapore confirmed, I told some of my corridor mates my traveling itinerary for my post-exams period. This was followed by the nicest note I found stuck on the refrigerator when I came back from my 8 day trip to Oslo, Bergen, Copenhagen and Jönköping.

I requested for a change of date to the 3rd of June though - I was pretty sure I was on my way to failing all my exams if I did not study on the 17th of May.

The day finally arrived. It was their exam period and I was very touched that they were willing to give me some of their time.

People come and go at Lappis. Exchange students mostly, students for a summer term too – but I know that a part of me would always stay in this corridor.

We had Mexican roll. Capsicums, tortilla, sauces, pork, lettuce and crisps – fast and easy way to cook and eat - and of course, not forgetting alcohol at the end of the day.

Top: From left: Anna, Amy, Hinrik, Hanna, me and Ashkan

Top: The best neighbors anyone could ever ask for.

I wish I could stay on in Sweden.

But in a sense, it is the coming back, the return, which gives meaning to the going forth.

We really don't know where we've been until we come back to where we were - only where we were may not be as it was before, because of who we have become, which, after all, is why we left.

Back to Stockholm

2008-07-15T22:36:00.005+07:00

The trip to Vágar Airport went without a glitch. I woke up early to have a slow breakfast of bread left by Richard, my last packet of instant noodles and the last bottle of Jolly courtesy of the Danish school kids.

I took a slow walk to the bus stop, allowing the last glimpses of the lake outside my hostel to seep into my memory.

Left: Jolly Cola

I found myself boarding the Atlantic Airways in no time.

Top: Atlantic Airways, the national airlines of the Faroe Islands

Time is such an interesting concept. Of nostalgia, heartache and relief at times – but let’s not forget that if time never moved on, we would never have enjoyed the good times that we ever had.

Today I leave the Faroe Islands, in two days time I would have my farewell dinner in Stockholm, and in 5 day’s time, I would fly back to Singapore.

Ah, what a journey these five months have been.

I reached Copenhagen airport at 11.30 am, picked up my baggage and dropped Elizabeth a message before taking the Metro to Norreport. I met up with her at the train station, and duly took a bus to her apartment. She rented an apartment with her friend instead of the conventional was of staying at a hostel we exchange students do.

As usual, we had a home-cooked lunch. Singaporean students in Europe seem to be very good cooks after some time. Elizabeth whipped up a very delicious meal of spaghetti with mushrooms and chicken, dry-style.

Time did not permit me to stay on any longer. In any case, I held her back long enough for her picnic appointment in the afternoon. I zipped on to the Copenhagen airport.

This was my third visit to this airport, and I had to say I pretty much enjoy the feeling of familiarity now. As I walked over to check in my luggage though, I was very surprised to meet another NTU girl in the airport.

I had the chance to host Daphne for two nights in Stockholm in April, and it was delightful to meet her again. She is without doubt, one of the nicest people around – there is not a bad bone in her, and sometimes, it saddens me that I never had the chance to know people like her longer.

I didn’t talk much to her though. My flight was in an hour and a half time, and moreover, she was traveling with a friend too.

A photograph and a hug later, I found myself loitering in the departure lounge for another 2.5 hours. My flight was delayed, which also meant that my appointment with Amy to bring her to see the night view of Stockholm had to be canceled.

I took the long way back to my hostel in Lappis from the Arlanda airport. A bus, a pendeltåg, the tunnelbana, followed by another bus – the journey took almost two hours in all.

Nonetheless, it was all worth it. To receive a hug from Anna at the doorstep to Forskarbacken 21, to see Ashkan in the kitchen, to give Amy a hug at the corridor and the fact that she gave me 30 minutes of her time to talk to me in the kitchen while I was cooking two packets of 出前一丁- which happened to be hers – was more than just heartwarming.

I wonder how would I feel on the flight back to Singapore?

Stamps of the Faroe Islands

2008-07-15T21:57:00.022+07:00

My travel in the Faroe Islands was certainly a memorable one. I enjoyed savoring the view from the summit of the mountains, hiking with an adventurous and tough girl, talking to Xiao You about both serious and light issues, learning Mandarin from her, although I felt a tinge of shame at times – I am a Chinese after all.

I didn’t send a postcard back to Singapore. The cost of buying and sending a postcard would be 17 Danish kroners, and I simply wouldn’t have enough money take a bus to the airport if I were to send one.

The following pictures of stamps are from the wonderful website Wikipedia, of places where I have visited or seen in the Faroe Islands.

The pictures on the stamps are not only familiar to my eyes, in a way it recounts the journey from the start to the end.

Together with the 3 GB worth of photographs I took in the Faroe Islands, these pictures reminds me of the whole trip: from the research and reading up I did on the Faroe Islands, to the traveling part, the tough hikes and scary moments I had on the mountains, a wonderful companion in Xiao You, touched by the hospitality of the locals.

Visiting the Faroe Islands was definitely the best way to sum up my first and probably only exchange program.

In no particular order:

Faroe Islands Day 7

2008-07-15T21:09:00.017+07:00

Finally, I took a walk to the bus stop alone.

I decided to catch the 8.05 am bus, so that I could maximize my second last day in Faroe Islands. Although tomorrow would be the last day here, I booked an 8.30 am flight back because I wanted to leave ample time for flight delays. The maritime weather was unpredictable, and Xiao You and I had a taste of it already. There was once we were entering a tunnel of a mountain in the bus, with drizzle and a mist hanging in the air. When we exited on the other end, the sun was shining brightly and there was no sign of any rain or mist at all.

Top: Kirkjubøur

Left: Magnus Cathedral undergoing restoration works

In all honesty, the loneliness hit me pretty hard in Kirkjubøur. Every shop was closed and there was no other tourist here at all.

Right: My only companion at Kirkjubøur

When I had to ask for help, I was glad I managed to find two women sitting down outside their house having coffee. They helped me to call the bus company for a public bus, and for the next hour or so, I simply looked out into the sea.

The bus finally arrived, and I went to Tórshavn.

Top: Along the way to Tórshavn. Isn't the view spectacular?

Top: The lighthouse at Skansin.

There I had to wait for another two hours to take a bus back to my hostel, so I took the opportunity to tour the capital. I expected it as well – no shops were opened and no one was around. Despite being the capital, I realized that I was alone once again.

Left: Streets at Tórshavn

I took a bus back two hours later. This was it – I felt I really missed Xiao You. I haven’t met such an adventurous and tough girl for such a long time and it was even harder to find one who enjoys the nature as much as I do.

After a heavy lunch of spaghetti, ham and tuna, I headed out to the Bøsdalafossur waterfall at about half past three.

The walk was long, and the paths were not steep at all. The view was good as well, but I was tired. Physically, I wasn’t tired, but mentally, I think I was.

Top: Along the way to the waterfall. Breath-taking.

The journey was long, but I saw the waterfall finally. It was spectacular as well, but due to the location of the waterfall, there was no way to see it as clearly as the one at Gásadalur.

Top: The waterfall is located on the other side of the cliff

Top: The sideview of the waterfall, which didn't turn out very clearly on my camera.

It was a long walk to the waterfall, and an even longer walk back. I walked the entire length near the water, so I found myself at the end of Miðvágur when I finally the path. From here, I took another hour walk back to the hostel.

Top: Picturesque Miðvágur

When I reached the hostel, there was a horde of Danish kids occupying the kitchen. From the initial stares I received, I think they were surprised to see me. After all, these Danish kids had the whole place to themselves since morning, and secondly, what are the chances of seeing a Chinese on this little known land?

These Danish kids were anything but unfriendly though. It was the birthday of one of the kids, and they knocked on my door to offer me a slice of cake. I came out to join them, and was offered Jolly Cola – the Faroese version of Coca Cola. I was glad I finally got a cool soft drink for a change. I chatted with this group of kids, most of whom were 12 years old, till about 1.30 am before hitting the sack. I didn’t care about the amount of sleep I had although I intend to wake up at 5 in the morning tomorrow. Moments like these were hard to come by.

I would be meeting Elizabeth, my ex-roommate’s friend in Copenhagen tomorrow for lunch, and although I have never met her before, meeting a Singaporean on my way back to Singapore wouldn’t be too bad.

Faroe Islands Day 6

2008-07-14T23:00:00.019+07:00

Xiao You and I headed out to the ATM early in the morning. Although her flight was at 11.30 am, we weren’t exactly sure where the ATM was, so we left earlier. The ATM wasn’t too far away actually, but nonetheless, it was good dropping a little further into the town. We saw their football court and a tiny little church which looks pretty good, actually.

The ATM finally dispensed Faroese currency, much to Xiao You’s anguish, because it was her last day here and there wasn’t a need to withdraw too much money. In any case, she withdrew a little more than necessary. I would do the same if I were her – Faroese currency is hard to come by, and according to our research, money changers in other parts of the world do not keep the currency of this wonderful state.

Left: Sandavágur Church

We spent some time taking photographs around the place before heading towards the bus stop. She felt sad leaving the place, and I felt sad that she was leaving. Despite the natural beauty of this place, it was very quiet and sometimes, just far too quiet for comfort. In many places we visit, there was just the two of us.

Time moved on despite our silent protests, and it was a matter of minutes before we found ourselves moving on; Xiao You heading for the airport, me heading to Sørvágur.

Perhaps it is pointless to say how much I knew I would miss her presence – I came to the Faroe Islands alone, and I should be prepared to move alone from day one here – but I just knew that I would miss her sorely. Although my mandarin sucked to the core, I didn’t need to talk to her much to feel at ease. In any case she spoke fluent English – the result of having 5 years of education in Denmark – and should the need ever arise, I would always speak to her in English.

I gave her a hug before she alighted from the bus. Great company, great scenery – I felt like leaving too. It might be better to leave like this, with good memories staying on forever in my mind, without any heartache. However my flight is on the 2nd of June, and I had yet to catch at least two other places: Mykines and the waterfall at Bøsdalafossur.

Richard, the Australian staying at the same hostel as us decided against coming to Mykines because the tourist desk at Tórshavn told him that the boat was full. I doubted that the information was any accurate, and decided to try my luck anyway. Xiao You was showing me photographs of Mykines a few days ago, and Mykines seemed too beautiful to be missed. With puffins and seagulls everywhere, I had to borrow a pair of binoculars from the hostel for this particular trip. I was sure that the bird watching experience would not disappoint me.

The boat ride was rocky. I wish the boat was larger, so that the ride would be less rocky, and tourists like Richard would visit the island. Being on the water enabled one to see the rock formations so much closer, and be awed by the work of Mother Nature.

The sight of seeing seagulls perched on the sides of the cliffs was refreshing indeed. From afar, it looked like white spots on the sides, but as the boat approached the harbor to dock, it became clear that these white spots were in fact seagulls.

Left: The white spots are in fact seagulls.

I had a little more than 6 hours to explore this island, and since I am clueless how long the hike to the lighthouse at the western most end of the island – which means I will reach the western most corner of the Faroe Islands as well – will take, I didn’t waste much time in looking for the starting point of the hike.

It wasn’t hard to find the starting point. The panel was erected conspicuously at the path to the village, and this island had significantly more tourists than other places in the Faroe Islands. I reckon most of them were Danish students, though I cannot say for sure as I didn’t talk to any of them during the boat ride.

Top: On the hike up, looking downwards at the village at Mykines

I set off on the path immediately. This time I didn’t bring any food along, only the packet of peanuts which Xiao You gave me, and a bottle of water. The load was light, and the climb was significantly easier than any other climbs I had undertaken so far. A straight path upwards, followed by a pretty level walk westwards.

It was indeed a pretty sight.

The birds were swarming everywhere, fearless of human, and I guess I was pretty lucky – the weather was just great. Sunny and bright, I think it brought the best out of Mykines. I walked slowly, taking the chance to look into my binoculars along the way at the puffins and their colorful beaks.

There were two parts to this hike, and soon, I found myself moving downwards to cross a bridge to the other island. Here, I saw more closely than ever the seagulls. Between the two islands, the seagulls nested in the islets.

Top: The bridge to cross to another mountain. The white spots are seagulls.

Top: In the middle of the bridge.

The walk to the lighthouse wasn’t tough, but it was sure quite long. I finally reached it after about an hour and half of walk, and there, I could see a couple of families sitting down and enjoying a picnic. Picturesque and tranquil, it is indeed a perfect spot for a picnic.

Top: The lighthouse!

Top: At the western most end of the Faroe Islands!

I spoke to a couple of Danish tourists here, and was delighted to know that they know where Singapore is on the map. Although Singapore is an economic powerhouse in South East Asia, I found it surprising that Singapore isn’t as well-known as some other economic powerhouses. Occasionally I would be surprised when people asked me if Singapore was a part of China, or whether it was near Hong Kong, or worse still, if it was located anywhere near Tibet.

I turned back after taking a couple of photographs of the area. There were a few places I would like to take a photograph with me in it, but I was lacking company, and although more touristy than some other villages in the Faroe Islands, I still found myself alone most of the time. I decided I would sit down and look for a meal. Having no company meant eating more to keep myself occupied, and I was sure I could find somewhere to eat here as there were more tourists here.

I found the guesthouse cum restaurant without difficulty. I read about it while I was doing research on the Faroe Islands, and it sure was easy to spot the blue house from afar. I bought my first – and most probably only – meal here, and it was good. Hot fries and hot chicken tasted like heaven for a starved man like me.

It was about 5 when I left the restaurant. I had a little over an hour to explore the Mykines, although I doubted it would even take me an hour. The island and the population were small. I took 15 minutes to reach a dead end, and another 15 minutes backwards to the harbor. I had about half an hour to burn, so I sat out in the sun, on a rock that resembled a chair, facing the ocean. Although many places were rocky cliffs and oceans, I knew I miss these sights when I return to Singapore.

The boat came at about a quarter to five and left immediately when all the passengers went on board. I was a little shocked that it didn’t wait till the scheduled time of 6.10 pm. What would happen to the other passengers who wanted to leave the island at 6.10 pm?

I didn’t think much about it. I wanted to enjoy the ride back. The sun was still shining brightly, the water sparkling, and this time round, we actually took a ride near this rock where a hole seems to be bored through it.

Top: On the boat back.

Top: Do you see the rock with a hole in the middle?

Top: Sørvágur

I reached Sørvágur, took a bus back to my hostel. Although Xiao You has left, Richard was still around in the hostel. The number of people in this hostel was too little for the owner to be around. The first day I arrived, there were 7 people. On the second day, there were 2 people – me and Xiao You. We had the company of two other Finnish guys and Richard on the third day. Today, it was down to the two of us, Richard and me. Although a group of Danish kids would be arriving tomorrow afternoon, Richard would be leaving early in the morning tomorrow, which means that I would be alone in the hostel the whole morning.

I chatted with Richard for a good two hours, having a bottle of of Føroya Bjór, or Faroe beer, over dinner as well. He tore out two pages of a guide book detailing walks in the Faroe Islands and gave me half a loaf of bread for my breakfast tomorrow. It’s wonderful how everyone in this island is so warmhearted and generous – from the lady who drove me to the hostel on day one, to Xiao You who offered me a bag of buns, to the people who drove us in their car, to Richard who even tore out a page from his guide book.

It would be a Sunday tomorrow, and honestly I have no idea if anything would ever be opened for me to see. A couple of museums seemed interesting. I figured I would just have to take a gamble. Xiao You recommended me Kirkjubøur before she left, so I decided to go there to take a look. I would visit Tórshavn too, my first visit to the capital proper. Lastly of course, I would walk to the waterfall at Bassadular. I kept this place for the last simply because it was the closest to my hostel.

The night ended early. Richard had to leave early tomorrow morning, so he went to bed early, and I didn’t feel like watching the television alone. Xiao You and I watched National Geographic every night so far, but given a choice between sleeping and watching the television alone, I would choose to sleep.

Faroe Islands Day 5

2008-07-14T22:09:00.024+07:00

I have scrapped all my initial plans of staying at Tórshavn for two nights and Klaksvik for two nights. There wasn’t any reason for me to abandon great company.

The day’s itinerary would involve finding a way – most likely hitch-hiking again- to Saksun and from there, across a mountain to the village Tjørnuvík. Somehow, hitch-hiking seemed to be part of our transportation means now, and whenever we can’t find a bus route that suits our plans, we would just look at each other and say ‘Let’s hitch-hike!’.

There wasn’t a bus to Saksun, so we took a bus to Streymoy, alighted, and began waiting by the road side for vehicles to pass by. Saksun happens to be the hometown of the postman we met yesterday, and he was right – vehicles were hard to come by along this stretch of road. Those that do come by were mostly heavily vehicles, and although we didn’t mind taking them to Saksun, these trucks were most probably bound for work and they didn’t stop by anyway.

Just as I thought we were running out of luck in this relatively new concept of traveling, the hospitality of the Faroese never failed to touch us. Just across the road where we stood, a young lady walked out and actually asked us where we were heading to. When we said Saksun, she just said breezily ‘I’ll drive you guys there.’ Wow!

In a way, hitch-hiking is a very good way of understanding more about the local scene. We chatted briefly about local food, a little about the political system and also the education system, and over here, we were amazed by her versatility – she speaks 5 languages: English, Faroese, Danish, French and German – not to mention that she was extremely fluent in the English language, something which was hard to come by in the Faroe Islands.

She drove us around while trying to locate the starting point for the coming climb. Eventually someone did point out the starting point for the hike, and she kindly dropped us off at the starting point. We thanked her, but decided against the hike for the moment, preferring to take a walk around the area first.

Top: The church, the lake and my adorable travel buddy.

Saksun looks like a page torn out from a fairy tale book; a church in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by the green mountains and a fjord overlooking the sea. There was something peaceful and tranquil in this place that made us delay our hike across the mountain.

Xiao You and I decided to venture further down and attempt to reach the shallow waters in the lake.

Top: On the way to the lake finally.

We couldn’t foresee the amount of energy it took us – the water certainly wasn’t as shallow as we thought it was, and the rocks were actually slippery. We took many detours trying to figure out a way to reach another side of the lake. Eventually we did manage to reach the other side, but I felt we took too much a time and effort to reach it. Although we figured we’d still have time to cross the mountain and be in time to catch the bus at Tjørnuvík, I was afraid that we would have to squeeze all our energy just to catch the bus, and that might pose a danger when the climb gets tough.

Top: The immensity of the Mother Nature

We went back to the starting point pointed out by a guy earlier on. The ascend would start here, and the path was supposedly marked out by ancient stones we had seen on our first hike up the ‘Postman’s Trail’.

Similar to the first hike, we couldn’t find any of the ancient stones. We were simply moving up, hoping to find something that resembles the ancient stones. This time however, I was really quite scared during the ascend. This mountain had significantly less grass, which meant lesser friction, and more gravels and stones. It was equally steep if not steeper.

Left: Me. I was terrified at this point when Xiao You took the photograph.

There was a certain point we realized that we were hopelessly off course. The path couldn’t be this dangerous and steep, and even as we sat down, we had to push ourselves back against ground to prevent ourselves from sliding down.

It was at this point when we caught sight of an elderly couple a few hundred meters away, and we started waving at them. Xiao You shouted out something in Danish, and after a while, the man came over. What a relief!

He offered Xiao You one of the walking sticks, and pointed out the correct path to us. I guess this was it – we should follow them if we wanted to have an easier way across the mountain.

Over the next few hours, we followed the couple. They were so much older than us and yet moved incredibly fast. Many times Xiao You and I were left chasing them, which made it all the more tiring and dangerous.

Top: The view from the top.

Generally speaking, the view along the way was spectacular as well, but this time round, I was more tired than the first hike. I carried two bottles of water, which was probably a mistake as it weighed me down, and I was wearing my down jacket, which made me really hot. It was cold before we started the hike, but during the hike, the heat generated by my body coupled with the down jacket was sending me nuts. I was hot and tired, not exactly the best feeling to be in when hiking.

Top: My lovely travel buddy.

Top: Tjørnuvík finally! Do you see Risin og Kellingin in the background?

We reached Tjørnuvík eventually. My knees were shaking by this time. Amazingly, the Danish couple looked fit enough to do another hike – they were chatting with the locals and walking around, as if they never did the hike at all. I couldn’t walk around much more. Xiao You and I ventured out to a small beach for a short while before sitting on some stones to wait for the bus.

Along the bus ride, the driver pointed out to us the largest waterfall in the Faroe Islands. Unfortunately due to the exceptional dry spell – something which I welcome during hikes – the waterfall was dry. Well, I guess there are sights to see when it is pouring heavily as well.

We reached the all too familiar Tórshavn bus terminal once more. This place is becoming more and more like home. Sitting on the same seat as we did, we started snacking on whatever food we have left. I finished up my bread with the tuna made in Papua New Guinea – I just have to mention it, because I think it is the first product from Papua New Guinea I am feasting on.

In all honesty I felt a little sad at this point in time. Xiao You would be leaving tomorrow, and I would be left alone. I have been traveling along in Iceland as well, but the fact that such a great company would be leaving is harder to accept than that of being alone right from the start.

Somehow this feeling has never really left me right from the start of the exchange. Friends coming and leaving, the feeling that I could get to know someone better but that time does not permit me to seem to be sinking into me real fast.

Our plan for tomorrow was exceedingly simple this time round. We would board the same bus tomorrow, she dropping off at the airport while I would sit all the way to Sørvágur to take the boat to Mykines. I know Mykines wouldn’t disappoint me unless the weather turns out bad. I couldn’t send Xiao You off at the airport properly though, because there would not be a boat to Mykines if I took another bus to Sørvágur.

The time to say goodbye – isn’t it always too short?

Faroe Islands Day 4

2008-07-14T21:53:00.006+07:00

We couldn’t really decide where to visit when we woke up today. The weather has been great the past two days, but today, we caught a glimpse of another side of the Faroe Islands. We woke up to a misty and rainy day. The rain wasn’t heavy, but I would describe it as a heavy drizzle.

We picked up a couple of brochures from the hostel at Gjógv yesterday for cruises at Vestmanna, and were sort of keen of trying it out. The weather, however, put us off. If we were to contribute a few hundred kroners to the tourism sector, we would not do it in this weather. Instead, Xiao You and I decided that we would head to Tórshavn and take a boat ride to the island Suðuroy. We were clueless what would we see there, but then again, I never worry about this for any of my travels.

Boat rides are a common form of transportation here – the equivalent of the metro and buses. When we boarded the ‘boat’ however, we were surprised that it wasn’t a ‘boat’, but more of a cruise ship. The lower levels houses vehicles and the upper decks were filled with seats and a café. For the high standards of transportation here, I really wonder at times if the fares the company receives from its commuters ever cover the total overhead costs even.

We headed to the upper deck immediately, but were greeted by the constant heavy drizzle. We took a few photographs, then went to a lower deck. It was cold – and I really wanted to sit on the extremely comfortable cushioned seats.

Sitting on the cushioned seat did we realize how tired we were. I slept the entire 2 hour cruise, even missing the views of Stóra Dímun and Lítla Dímun along the way. Of course, the mist and fog wouldn’t permit me to see much of it as well, something which Xiao You’s camera also conveyed.

Left: The interior of the ship

Hopping out of the ship, we immediately set the staff at the information counter a thankless task: that of recommending someplace for us to visit in that 2 hour we have. We didn’t have much of a choice – we had to catch the next boat back in two hours time, or be stranded on this island. The woman suggested we take the bus outside the station to somewhere near Vágur. The bus driver was extremely helpful as well, pointing out the time the bus will depart from that area and promising to drive us closer to the village as well.

I think we didn’t reach the village in any case. All we really saw was just the coastal line, and although it was magnificent in its own way, the two hours didn’t allow us to do anything beyond taking photographs near the coastal area and catching a chocolate-cream filled bun.

Right: The coastal line

I think both of us were a little disappointed at the way we had to rush for the bus, but then again, we had to get use to the way the transport system works. Also, the weather wouldn’t permit us to do any trekking or mountain climbing in any case.
We took the bus back to Tvøroyri to take the boat back to Tórshavn. Once again I conked out on the cruise back. The past few days had taken its toll on me, and I guess I must be in need for a good rest.

Left: A typical traditional house in Faroe Island with turfed roof and black exterior.

The day ended early. We went to the supermarket before heading back to the hostel. Tomorrow would be another strenuous day with another climb over a mountain and we need the rest.

Faroe Islands Day 3

2008-07-11T23:08:00.021+07:00

Our experience with hitch-hiking was good – of course, including my ride with the lady from the tourist desk on the first day – so we decided that hitch-hiking shall play a larger role in today’s travel. Basically we marked out two areas to go to today: one at Eiði, and the other at Gjógv, both situated at the northern end of the island of Eysturoy. There was a bus at Gjógv that will bring us back to Oyri, and from there, another bus back to Tórshavn, and from there, another bus to our hostel. The only problem was that no bus would bring us to Eiði, and although it was on the way to Gjógv, the distance between these two points was very large.

We woke up extremely early to catch an earlier bus towards Eysturoy. Stopping at one of the stops in Eysturoy, we began our walk to Eiði, while keeping a lookout for vehicles on the road to hitch a ride. Not many vehicles passed by, which made me think that we had to walk the whole length to Eiði and Gjógv. We were in luck though.

It wasn’t long before a van from the postal service drew up. The postman was on his way to deliver letters to Gjógv, and he kindly agreed to drive us there, even making a stop for us at Eiði to take a look at the legendary sea stacks, Risin og Kellingin.

Left: The helpful postman

A little must be told about Risin og Kellingin. The story will fascinate any tourists viewing the two sea stacks due to its vague human form which one can discern from the pair of binoculars located at Eiði. As usual, I didn’t know anything about Risin og Kellingin prior to coming to the Faroe Islands, and needless to say, anything about the myth behind the two sea stacks. The story was kindly narrated to me by Xiao You on the bus ride.

Legend has it that a long time ago, a giant and a witch wanted to bring the Faroe Islands back to Iceland. They decided to pull the Faroe Islands from the northern tip of Eysturoy as the distance was the shortest to Iceland. As both of them would turn to stones should the sun shine on them, they had to do this in the darkness of the night. To tie the Faroe Island with rope, the witch climbed up the mountain while the giant stayed in the sea to pull the rope. However, they underestimated the weight of the mountain and the firmness which the base was attached to the sea base. They struggled to pull it, and didn’t realize the onset of dawn. As the sun rose, both were turned into stones, and they stood rooted to where they are now, forever staring longingly towards Iceland.

Left: Looking through the binoculars

I couldn’t make out the giant and the witch as I peered through the lens. Xiao You could make them out immediately though. I squinted, I adjusted the focal length, I tried looking around for clues as to where the giant’s eyes, nose and mouth might be, but I simply couldn’t make out anything.

We had to move along though, as the postman had to get his job done. I sat in the back of the van, while Xiao You sat at the front to chat with the postman in Danish. Along the way, the postman pointed to another mountain which we could conquer in the future: Slættaratindur, the highest mountain in Faroe Islands with a peak at an altitude of 882 meters.

Gjógv is named after a 200 meter long sea-filled gorge that runs straight into the sea – a harbor created by Mother Nature. The best part about coming to the Faroe Islands is that such views are always free of charge. You enjoy the view and the scenery without having to pay any form of admission fees. Being such a mountainous country as well, there are hiking paths almost everywhere, from where you can absorb the view from an elevated point in the region.

Top: The natural habor

We headed straight to the harbor upon reaching Gjógv. At this point, I think I need not describe the place anymore, but rather, I will let the photographs do the talking. The rock formations, the green field and the water never fail to awe me. In different shapes and sizes, Mother Nature has carved out beauty in such a simple yet magnificent way.

I pointed out a hiking path after we filled out cameras with pictures of the harbor, and we decided to hike up this path. After conquering the mountain on the way to Gásadalur yesterday, we felt nothing could be tougher.

Left: My traveling buddy

The view from the top was equally awesome as well.

Top: The village at Gjógv

Left: Kids on their way to the hostel. We helped them carry their stuff to the hostel.

We took a walk around the village after coming back down. As usual, the village was quiet and in all, there seems to be only two places opened: a small shop selling some woolen clothes, and the hostel nearby. The tourists in the village seem to outnumber the locals by 20 to 1, and honestly, I think there were only 2 locals around the area – the owners of the shop and the hostel.

Left: The interior of the public bus. The buses here are even better than the long distance buses from Kuala Lumpur to Singapore.

Certain places require the commuters to call the bus company in advance for the bus to pick them up, and Gjógv was one of them.

We wanted to call for the bus to come down to Gjógv but thankfully, we met a Danish couple who were willing to drive us back to Eiði – another hitch-hike – and this time we’ll take a closer look at Risin og Kellingin. I still wanted to make out the giant and the witch, and Xiao You was so fascinated by it, she just had to see it once more.

This time, at Eiði, we walked down all the way to the coastal line to take a look at the two sea stacks. Finally, I managed to make out the human forms of it, and I saw why Xiao You was so fascinated by it. Indeed, the resemblance was striking enough for the legend to hold a good amount of water.

Top: Risin og Kellingin. The giant is on the right, the witch on the left.

We walked further down the road to take a bus back to Tórshavn. I needed to buy a traveller’s card – the fares are simply killing me. A bus ride to Tórshavn from my hostel costs a cool 56 Danish kroners with my student card, 70 kroners without it.

We took bus 300 back to our hostel. We were tired, but at the same time, glad that the views in Faroe Islands have never disappointed us.

Faroe Islands Day 2

2008-07-11T22:08:00.017+07:00

Waking up to a bright and sunny day, Xiao You and I made minor adjustments to our itinerary for the day. This was due to my carelessness and absent-mindedness. She asked to see my driving license, and I realized that I didn’t bring it along – I left it in the other luggage in Stockholm.

And so, we decided to head straight to Bøur. I didn’t have a traveler’s card, so looking at the map, we decided to try to walk Bøur. We saw a bus at the bus stop, and we stopped by, and I got quite a big shock when Xiao You began talking to the driver in Danish!

Left:Bøur

We got a ride to Bøur, where we alighted and began our walk.

Top: Along the way to Bøur

We finally reached the foot of the mountain. Looking back, I had to say we were daring. Every article we read about this ‘Postman Trail’ which begins from the foot of the mountain to the other side where Gásadalur lies says that the path is difficult and strenuous, and that a local guide would be needed.

We pressed on. Part of us didn’t believe that it would be that hard, and personally, I didn’t want to waste the trip. There was no way we were turning back.

And so the hike begins.

Looking desperately for these ‘ancient stones’ which were supposed to guide us along the way, we found it difficult to decide which stones were ‘ancient stones’. There were simply too many stones around.

The toughest part though, was definitely climbing.

Top: Tindhólmur in the background

Top: Xiao You, along the way up the 'Postman's Trail'

The ascend was tough. Many times we were reduced to all fours, not to mention the loose stones and gravels that littered the place. We were constantly looking out for these ‘ancient stones’ along the way, but the steepness of the mountain was clearly not helping us.

Left: Do you see the 'ancient stones'?

Finally Xiao You found it. For a short moment, the walk was easy. This was however short-lived. We had to continue the climb, much the same way as we did earlier.

We finally reached the peak, and words could not describe how I felt. For the first time in my life, I am 463 meters atop, and words simply fail me.

Top: The summit!!

We took a short rest and plenty of time taking photographs. The scenery awed both of us, I guess, and there was a reluctance to begin the descend. We wanted to continue keeping the current view around us, to savor it slowly, but on the other hand, we wanted so much to see the waterfall at Gásadalur.

Top: Awesome view of Gásadalur !

The descend was as tough as the ascend, if not tougher. There was very little grass around, which means that friction was little, and the gravels and loose rocks littered the main path. We used our hands and feet to climb up, and we had to use our butt to go down.

Top: Along the way down. Awesome!

Top: Do you see the waterfall?

Reaching the foot of the mountain was as awesome as reaching the top. As I turned back, I just cannot believe that I have scaled such a mountain. To point a finger at the summit and say ‘I’ve been there!’ is something that I can never forget. I know Xiao You feels the same way too – the climb, the view that overwhelmed us, the tiredness that set in during the climb – everything rolled into one, and it becomes memorable, becomes something worth doing.

Top: Gásadalur finally!

We made our way to the waterfall at Gásadalur immediately. There was still a distance to the waterfall, but at this point, none of us wanted to stop to take a break.

The waterfall was nothing like the one at Iceland, but it was still breath-taking in its own unique way. I am not sure if there are any other waterfalls like this around the world – just water sprouting from a hole in a mountain, the greens, the rock formations and the sea surrounding it.

Top: Magnificient!

It was with great reluctance we left. Prior to coming to Gásadalur, we have already decided to hitchhike back to some place where we can take a bus, so when this large SUV came along, we immediately chased after it. There were two people in the vehicle, and one of them was a tourist from Denmark, so we weren’t the only one hitching a ride.

We went to the airport with the Danish lady. The next bus would actually arrive in an hour and a half’s time, so I actually suggested walking back to the hostel. The choice would turn out to be a bad one – we took almost three hours back, including a short stop at the Bonus supermarket to stock up food for the next few days.

In any case, I decided to just hitch on Xiao You’s itinerary tomorrow. I was too tired to make any fresh plans, and the company was good too, despite the language barrier, so why not?

Faroe Islands Day 1

2008-07-07T20:50:00.024+07:00

The Faroe Islands – situated between the Norwegian Sea and the North Atlantic Ocean, halfway between Iceland and Norway – are a group of 18 islands with one of the world’s smallest capital. Never more than 5 kilometers from the ocean at any point, the country is dominated by steep and green mountains, and home to some 70,000 sheep and 2 million seabirds – a wonderful holiday resort for nature lovers.

Left: Faroe Islands on Google Earth

When I told some of my friends that I wanted to visit the Faroe Islands, one of the first few questions would definitely be – where is the Faroe Islands? The next question would go along the line of ‘What can you see there?’ In fact, my determination to visit this group of islands was strengthened when they started getting skeptical of my intention.

I fell in love with the island the very second the plane flew over the island on its way to the Vágar airport. In fact, I am sure the woman seated in front of me fell in love with the island immediately as well. Both of us whipped out our cameras the minute the first dash of green appeared – and started snapping photographs fanatically. Usually as planes fly to the airport, the usual sights are lights, stretches of roads and buildings. How often does one get greeted by the green mountains, clusters of houses and the body of water when one reaches the airport?

Top: The view from the airplane

My research on the Faroe Islands was not very in-depth – as with all the places I travel to – but I was confident that things wouldn’t be too hard. I read about the transportation system there, and know that buses were not as frequent as they were in Northern Europe, but still, I wasn’t expecting myself to be stranded in the airport on the very first day. As I went to withdraw money from the ATM, the first card was rejected, and after withdrawing a suitable amount of money with my second card, the bus – the last one – that brings people out of the airport left.

I asked the tourist desk – as the staff was closing shop – for alternatives, and I was delighted by the kindness shown to me. One of the staff members offered to drive me to my hostel as it was along the way to her home.

The 15 minutes drive to my hostel was one of the best rides I have ever taken in my life. Surrounded by the mountains and with the traffic moving so smoothly, I was thinking to myself – thank goodness I missed the bus!

Top: The view outside my hostel

When I reached the hostel, another peculiarity that hit me was the fact that the owner of the hostel wasn’t around. Instead, a telephone lies just at the doorstep in the hostel, and there was a plastic folder with 4 Danish kroners in it, and a number to call if one wishes to check in. This I didn’t realize at first, but only after chatting to this Chinese girl in the dining area of the hostel did I notice the coins and the plastic folder.

In fact, I was very surprised to see a Chinese girl in the hostel at all. Firstly, I wasn’t expecting to see any Asians at all, and to find a Chinese in this corner of the world was even more surprising.

After chatting with her for about a good half an hour, I called the hostel owner for a room. Chucking my items in the room, I resumed chatting with her. Although my Mandarin is elementary at best, I found it comforting to talk to her. We began planning for the next few days – she had 5 more days, while I had 7.

Her research into Faroe Islands was deep and precise. We began planning our hike up the mountain between Bøur and Gásadalur the next day. Although she wanted to climb the mountain, she wasn’t confident of doing it alone. I, on the other hand, had totally no idea of the existence of this mountain, and was only too willing to accompany her up the hike. We even made plans to rent a car – and our routes the next few days with a car could ease up the travel plans and allow us more time to explore the 18 islands.

I couldn’t wait for the adventure to start. Not only had I company now, I simply couldn’t wait to see the views from the top of the mountain the next day.

Xiao You gave me a bag of buns she had toasted in her place in Denmark for dinner and most probably for breakfast and lunch tomorrow as well. I thanked her for it, place them in my bag, and decided to take a short walk around the place. There was a very well-known waterfall around the place, and although I had no idea how far it was from the hostel and how dark the sky will get in a few hours time – it was already 9.30 pm – I decided to head out to absorb the sights. No matter if I get to see the waterfall, but I just had to experience a bit of the nature first before I hit the sack.

Top: Along the way in search for the waterfall

Upon the directions of two English, I headed out to look for a police station, and following that, to turn left and walk along a path till I reach a gate.

I didn’t last long. After walking for an hour, I headed back. The sky was turning dark, and I was dead-beat tired.

Left: The police station

I went back to my room and thought for a while before I went to bed. The girl has plenty of plans, but somehow her plans do not match mine. How much of my itinerary should I change?I decided to sleep on it. Flexibility is important, and I am seriously considering following her for the next 5 days if she doesn’t mind.

Top: Isn't the Faroe Island simply beatiful?