Toronto Day 1

Yup, the weather's sufficiently cold.

Jetlag's wearing off.

Raya's here.

All's well.

P.Ramlee says : Selamat, selamat Hari Raya...

Beijing 2008

Have I ever left home on a trip without feeling like I'd forgotten something?

Sleeping bag, vitamins, lotion...thank God they're all thing I can temporarily live without.

Beijing airport has to be THE most user-unfriendly airport I've ever been to. Our initial excitement at setting foot in China for the first time soon gave way to panic and distress when we started to feel the effects of lack of sleep and our search for a likely place to nap came to no avail. Everywhere we went there were throngs of people headed in the opposite direction. Everyone we spoke to either didn't speak English or spoke it with an accent which rendered their English competency pretty much useless to us. Despite the lack of proper seating and hoards of people milling about, no one ventured to simply camp out on the floor. We had a drink at a cafe where, instead of chairs, there were sofas strewn with illegally-comfy throw pillows. While it was tempting to simply crash there, we continued our search of a good-sleep place. We found sprinkles of painted metal benches where Kak Nani tried to sleep on but ended up cramping her arms to keep from sliding off. By then we were in a lousy mood and our heads were swimming with everything Chinese. We decided to leave the international terminal and head out to the open waters. Our 10-hour transit was down to six when we finally found seats where we can properly rest our bottoms. By then it didn't matter that we were nodding left, right, front and back because our eyelids were adamant on staying closed. It didn't matter to me that every time I opened my eyes there was a different row of strangers (all Chinese, of course) staring at me with open curiosity. I simply stared back until my eyes shut themselves once again.

The remaining two ours of our transit I spent reading and snacking, Esyaque went off with his camera and Kak Nani continued sleeping (as usual). Our spirits picked up once again when check-in for Air Canada opened and we were finally welcomed into the more comfortable zones of international departure. Despite further hassles of being body-searched another half-a-dozen times and the prospects of a 13-hour flight, I was practically skipping into the cabin. I might be couped up in the same piece of flying metal for a long period of time but at least the reclining seats are mine,I don't have to keep a hawk-eye on my carry-ons and everything is explained in a language I can comprehend.

I must sound terribly snobbish at the moment but I really can't see how I could have enjoyed that 10-hour turmoil. China reported to have amped their hospitality to make the country tourist-friendly in preparation for the 2008 Olympics. Well, they've got a few more months to go and all I can say is fellas, good luck.

Eid Mubarak

I saw the Lake House. Profound. That's it, I'm giving up reading reviews.

The two 'gembala kerbau' chirped at my window at precisely 7.30am today. They usually save me from oversleeping but today I turned around and gave them a grin thinking, "Ha!I beat you guys today!"

I'm rereading Beloved and I'm still spellbound by the language. Guess I found my in-flight literature. That, the load of mp3s and in-flight movies should keep me occupied for the next 24 hours in the air. I hope.

I was tempted to get something new for raya. Of course, I changed my mind the moment I saw the throngs of people flooding the Kompleks PKNS hungry for baju raya, kuih raya, everything-raya. Imagine squeezing between clothing racks standing shoulder-to-shoulder and sales girls and other customers trying to pass through dragging hoards of meandering offsprings. How anyone is expected to make wise purchasing decisions is wonder to me. I hate raya shopping. Happens every year.

The last time I spoke to Hakim on the phone his voice sounded different. I hope he hasn't made the transition into manhood yet. I'd like to enjoy my little Kimi for a bit more before that happens.

I'm praying to God (seriously, not literally, not metaphorically) that all my luggage go through customes smoothly. The way my mom ordered food from home made it seem like they were starving over there in Toronto. Turns out they really are Baba's and Alagappa-dependant after all.

Eid Mubarak to all (yes, yes, all two of you reading this). And to further reinstate an overused but still meaningful phrase, I have to say....Maaf zahir dan batin. :D

life on the hobo line

Here's another mundane detail about my life which is inevitably going to be the bane of my piece of mind today since this is MY life I'm talking about and I happen to be THE star at center of the center of it.

I have been living in temporary mode since 1999.

I came upon that conclusion after glancing around my room trying to decide on what to pack for the upcoming trip.

Everything I saw aged an average of two years. Even my clothes, which normally consist of very old but very much favored items, are now almost completely new. My collection of parios (gifts from friends) are gone. They've been neatly packed away in boxes with my little pieces of trinkets and memorabilias and stored away in some storage facility. My bedside table is empty of my favourite books (also now boxed and stored) which I used to have just to look at.

Since 1999 I have been living with easily disposable, easily replaceable items, constantly ready to make another move.

We left our family home in 1999 and moved to the big city. There was constantly the possibility of moving again. I went to varsity in 2001 and lived temporarily in the college dorms, the design studio and later at a rented apartment. I failed to get into the degree program in 2004 and so I was temporarily at home while applying for vasities overseas. QUT accepted me in 2005 and I inhabited Brisbane temporarily for two years. Now I'm back for my practicum and I'm temporarily staying with my sister. There's a possibility of me moving in with my parents but that's still uncertain. I'm due to move back to Brisbane for a year, after which my next nesting place is as predictable as the weather.

Perhaps I should simply give up trying to grow roots.

dear friend, where art thou?

Life deals a cruel hand where friendships are concerned. Sometimes I think it's a misery to be close to someone because all I seem able to do is leave them.