Animals Teach Us How To Be People

The line reads

When two clans of gorillas meet, they always avoid conflict.

Amazing campaign from Madrid Zoo. Makes us wonder how evolved we really are. See more posters at funstasticus.com.

All Hot And Limbered Up

The SMS read 'we're doing yoga on tuesday'. I was intrigued. I thought this group of people I hung out with just ate and shopped. But no, this was physical activity they wanted to partake upon. Perhaps we have moved to the stage where we are comfortable seeing each other contort and perspire.

So I sent an SMS to the organiser, Jo, who went on to tell me there was place for one more at $17 a trial at Telok Ayer. Having heard so much (maybe too much. I know 2 full fledged yoga instructors as well as others who have been mystified by the spell cast by ancient Indian stretching exercises) about how good it would be for my back, I affirmed my commitment to lesson number one.

An hour before meeting Jo, I asked her the name of the yoga studio. Absolute Yoga she replied, with a joke reference to exercise and vodka. When the site loaded, its deep red background grabbed my initial attention followed very quickly and distressfully at the words 'Hot Yoga Studios'. Alrighty then. I didn't know I would be thrown into a 40-degree room to swim in my sweat for 90 mins. I guess there's a first time for everything.

So I felt like I would die. My skin wanted to leave my body. No matter how many breaths I took my lungs simply didn't seem satiated. Yes, hot yoga is no joke. I liken it to running (not jogging) at noon in Baghdad.

Our instructor was Andrea. She was nice and had amazing skin (the girls noticed). She told us all she wanted us beginners to do was focus on our breathing and get used to the temperature. She was right, the heat took getting used to. We did many poses, some doable, other less so. I gave up twice and just lay down on my back. "Rest is ok, rest is important," instructed Andrea. "Knowing when you need to rest is as important as doing the poses." Hey that's nice and encouraging.

Towards the end, I gave up and focused on breathing. I noticed when the hot breeze diminished. It made me glad. I started to venture in and out of sleep, would you believe it. Or was I passing out. I didn't know.

Soon we all on our backs, and the hot breeze stopped. We were all cooling down. Thank goodness I was thinking. Later, we all described our individual tortures over a spot of dinner.

I know it all sounds extremely painful and negative. But at the end of it all, I felt like I went through hell and got out alive. And all that sweat. I had never been this wet since someone pushed me into the pool with my clothes on. I felt cleansed somewhat. Purged, detoxed, poisons expunged, that sort of thing. Andrea talked to us after the class and said it was a good first attempt. That's probably why 3 out of 4 of us signed up for more classes. Yes me too. Who says guys can't commit?

Amos called Jo later and she told him that I signed up for more hot yoga. Amos said it should be easy for me because I am Indian. It is not true, ah.

Meet Someone New

This is Vicknesh. Aka Rocky because during the time he didn't have a name yet I called him Rocky as he kept punching his fists in the air. I am uncle. He is nephew. He's at my home now, crying at awkward hours and keeping everyone (but me) busy.

A Little Trouble With The Law

Some people have asked me if the policeman in the pix was being nice to a tourist and posed for a picture. Actually, there's quite a bit more to it.

When got to Tsim Sha Tsui MTR for the first time to catch a train, the ladies got down to buying tickets as the rest of us huddled around the ticket machine. Notes and coins were passed around and soon tickets were distributed. I took my blue ticket and went towards the fare gates. One set of gates looked crowded, so I moved ahead to another set of gates ahead, alone. Once through, Mr Policeman came up to me.
"Excuse me, wait please", he asked in a stern tone "Are you from Hong Kong?".
"No, I am a tourist", I replied.
"Do you speak English?"
"Yes"
"Can I see your passport?"
I fished out my passport and hand it over. I figured this was routine (given the heightened terrorist alert status around the world, and I clearly look dangerous) and I had not done anything wrong.
"You are using the wrong card. This is a concession card, for children and elder people."
"Oh! I didn't know. My friends bought the same tickets also."
At this point he realised that I was not alone. He had assumed because I had entered the transit zone on my own. All this while, my friends were taking snaps of my encounter with Mr Policeman, shamelessly, not coming to my aid.

Conversing in Cantonese, Serene and Cheryl explained the situation and that we were all in trouble, not just poor old foreign me.

So we all got out and bought new tickets. Evidently, someone hit the concession card button the fare screen the first time around. So we re-did our entry and Mr Policeman also came around to help us out. He was less serious this time and in fact a little jovial. In his small talk, one could tell he was slightly apologetic. In Cantonese, he said "Pat tat, pat siong sek" which roughly translates to "Don't fight, don't get to know better". Wow, he probably felt he was too brusque with me and felt bad. I told him that was just doing his job and that it was ok.

Hong Kong-ed

I have been lazy. Ever since I got home at about 130am last Wednesday morning, I have been keeping late nights and waking after 10am almost each day. My body clock is screwed and I have only managed to exercise twice since then. I have attempted to clean my room since then. My shelves of a thousand books took 3 days to wipe down. Why does dust come from? And so much. Goodness. I feel that dust also has mutated along the ecological track. It's now resistant to soap and water.

So the Pearl Of The Orient title is a tussle between Hong Kong and Penang. I saw the that reference to Penang on a cloth bag in my house. It was my first time in Hong Kong and there are many things to say about it. I could rattle on for paragraphs but I shall not. Instead, I have decided to bullet my way out of this potential novella. Only the interesting bits.

- Chep Lap Kok airport is grey. There's something about this muted colour scheme across new Asian airports. KLIA, Suvarnabhumi Bangkok and HK Intl are washed in this dull hue as if it inspires travellers to get excited about the destination they have just arrived at. Its dull man. Boring, lifeless and even clinical, in the antiseptic way.

- The apartments buildings are very tall. 40, 50 plus stories. It's stunning that so many apartments can be built over a small footptrint. The first few towers were saw were captivating to the eye. We quickly got used to the density. The extended height is the way things will go in SG too.

- Many buildings are dirty grey-brown in the day. The neon comes out at night.

- Since SARS and the recent flu epidemics, many places in Hong Kong have taken precautions against hand-borne germs by providing hot teh-o for rinsing cutlery (no kidding) and having free-to-use hand sanitizing solutions at shopping centres. People also shamelessly use face masks if they have the sniffles. They are perhaps more thoughtful than we imagine.

- Hong Kong people also don't use handicapped toilets, unless of course they are handicapped. That's kinda nice.

- I have a theory why HKers are creative people. They stand at Kowloon shores and look at Hong Kong island. Across the water are so many buildings in all matter of shape, form and height. There seems to be no limit to what developers can cram into the hilly island of 80.4 sq km (SG is about 700 sq km), all in the name of fame and commerce. The new International Financial Centre 2 building welcome visitors who arrive at the Star Ferry terminal in all its 415m glory. Stupendous (though Cheryl did mention something about not so good fengshui). The sky is the limit it seems. That anything is possible. It's awe-inspiring. How can a young Hong Konger not feel proud of this skyline (and night time light show) and not dream of bigger things to come? (There is a shopping centre in the shape of a ship in the middle of a housing estate btw)

- The Hong Kong MTR has maps with flashing LED lights to show the next station of arrival, upcoming interchange stations and intersecting lines. The maps are above most exit doors, and also have signs that show which side the doors are going to open at the next station. Like wow. Our MRT folks have something to learn.

- The food is good. I had many sweet buns that are served warm with a slice of butter - po lo yao. I am now the po lo yao man. The wan tan mee is traditionally soupy. The tea with milk (nai cha) has no sugar. Chilli is either sauce from a bottle or burnt bits of something in chilli oil. Roast goose is nice (we had at Yeung Kee, the best place to have it). Smelly tofu (chou tofu) isn't so bad. There is some weird obsession with mango going on. Curry fishballs are curry- and fish-flavoured flour balls fried in oil. Char siew and roast pork is generally fantastic anywhere. We had a fantastic vegetarian meal for HKD60 at the base of the Buddha statue hill on Lantau.

- The cable car ride at Ngong Ping 360 is so worth it.

- The streets on Mongkok get closed off to traffic so that hundreds of thousands of people can roam. With potential customers everywhere, the neon comes out in full force to get their attention. People perform on streets and passersby stop in the scores to watch. There are all manner of shops vying for our dollars. It's the same in Causeway Bay. There is so much energy in such a small space. Something hard to replicate.

- The HK govt has kept the Star Ferry with all its antique rumblings and cute eccentricities (the shipman lowers and raises the gangway by hand, and it costs SGD20 cents to make the trip from Kowloon to Hong Kong island). It's a beautiful reminder of the past and yet serves as great, efficient transport.

- There are wet markets in the heart of Kowloon and Central. No kidding - fresh fish and vege to buy home at lunchtime.

- Hong Kong men and women dress better. Maybe it's the cooler weather that supports an extended wardrobe. The high-end labels make a big show with large boutiques and even bigger ads on the side of buildings. Lower-end Giordano and H&M ads also cover 20 metre walls in MTR stations. Fashion is passion.

- Mr Chew, Gerald and I took the tram and we promptly got lost. Hennessy Road to Happy Valley to no-idea-where. It was a good experience. Go get lost, you'll learn more.

- A waitress at a bar on Knutsford Terrace told me that it was "impossible" for me to pass my 1-for-1 drink to someone else. Wow, service issues are everywhere eh. So Gerald and I upped and left to a friendlier place - All Night Long. Buds for SGD4 and white wine for SGD6. Woof.

There's probably more to write about but I shall go sleep now. You can also get the visual lowdown from the 755 images in my Flickr set.

Everest Munch & The Hike After

Serene lives in the Farrer Park area and the proximity to Little India has allowed her to explore the various dining options available in Little India. On a Friday evening, she brought us to try the food of the heavens.

The restaurant is Nepalese and is called Everest, and get this, sits along Rotan Lane, one the many little side streets along Race Course Road. We indeed gave our stomachs a rotan when we descended to partake upon the goodness on offer.














The food is fabulous. Almost nothing disappointed. The chicken tikka was moist and flavourful, the pappadums came with a gorgeous mint chutney we swiped off with fingers for the licking, and the hot pakoras summed up the appetisers. I was honestly stuffed after that round, washed down with spicy masala milk tea. But we had to carry on because bigger adventures awaited with the mains. We had naans with lamb curry, dry fried ladies fingers, palak paneer and mango chutney. Then the carbo switched to fish and prawn briyanis. They arrived in earthen pots with enough contents to feed 2 too-hungry people. And we had the mixed grill, twice.

We ate so much that the nice folks gave us a discount, and still it was a fair amount once averaged among the 9 of us. Yes, it was a belt loosening, great gastronomic experience of Himalayan proportions. If you love North Indian food, you need to go and spend money there.

Post feast, we walked, or rather slowly slid, to the hustle and bustle of Mustafa. That place is a glorious mess of commerce and chaos. That place has everything. I nearly bought a Casio that looked like the one I got when I was 11. We went there with the intention to get luggage for the Chews who had trips coming up. According to Jorida, Lojel was the preferred brand among those in the 'frequent flyer' industry. We ventured around into the disinfectants and cleaners, the grocery bit, past the jewellers, into the steel tableware section...I can't remember when my legs felt like they would give way. We ended up at the coffee shop opposite the pharmacy section. Boy, were we tired.

Spidey In The Morning

Came to work one morning and Spidey here met me with a fright. It scuttled off to the edge of a pile of paper and attempted to hide. In the meantime, I had whipped out my camera to take a few pictures. It was tough - Spidey was too fidgety for the lens. Soon it disappeared beneath the big blue file at the edge of my table. A nice arachnid surprise. Not big enuff for me to freak out and attempt smacking.

Did you know that spider's silk is weight for weight five times stronger than steel? And that there is no Baygon in my office?

What Was Your School Motto?

I went for a walk around my neighbourhood, in the spirit of exercise, some time ago. (Not that I have not done the same since but then this post would end up being about my body fat percentage as opposed to its true nature.) I walked past the Sports School (how apt) and then past Innova JC. What a name. They should have entrepreneurship as a pass requirement. And my footsteps took me past Innova Primary School but what stopped in my tracks was the school motto in big letters at the parade square.

How cool is that? A school that truly aims to nurture the human spirit of adventure and achievement. Wow. Dare To Dream. How many of our parents told us to do that? It's quite likely we got hell for not doing better than the neighbour's kid in Maths. "You want to become a karung guni man, is it?", were the kind of threats I received. "Your better study and don't play so much." Exam-centric parents, the ones who worked for supervisors and turned Singapore from kampung to factory outlet.

I asked around the office about school mottos/slogans. I remember I had "Hope For A Better Age" in Latin for college. That refers to us kids being the hope, not all of us praying for world peace. Someone else had "Up and On". Woof, I like that one. A mission school guy had "Prayer and Work". Goodness, wouldn't that just sum up life? "Wisdom Through Knowledge" is another mindbender someone had to endure. One girls' school has a really bad motto - "Look Up, Lift Up'. They wore pinafores. Aiyaiyai.

As advertising folk who drink too much and work too hard, we put our minds into other creative expressions that would inspire students to "Be The Best They Can Be":
- You Want To Die Is It?
- Can You Clean Toilets?
- Good Grades And Personal Hygiene
- Common Sense
- Google It

You can reply with your own school mottos/slogans and suggest a few too.