GZ getaway

Rows of waxed whole ducks.

Waxed sausages, probably most familiar to Singaporean Chinese

Chinese ham, crucial to the success of any double-boiled soup! (yum yum)

Ok, so I talked about flying all the way to Guangzhou for a stand-up comedy performance by Dayo Wong earlier on in my post and WE REALLY DID IT! The show was great and we sat near enough to the stage at the cavernous Sun Yat Sen Memorial Hall that we could see Dayo quite clearly. In China, everything is big, especially memorial halls commemorating Great Leaders. The Sun Yat Sen Memorial Hall, which also doubles up as a major performance venue, is so big that it was quite impossible to find a photographic angle to demostrate the size. L size is not limited to just concert halls in China. As it was the winter solstice period, there was a fair number of shops selling "lap mei" （腊味）or waxed food products. Everything from goose intestines to pig trotters could be waxed, preserved and of course eaten and shops strove to display their wares prominently, complete with spotlights shining on the glistening waxed meats. Being Chinese and Cantonese and having ancestors coming from Guangzhou, we had to check out the Cantonese restaurants. We went to 2 of the most famous (and so-called high end) Cantonese restaurants - Lianxiang Lou and Guangzhou Restaurant, both of which were housed in standalone buildings filling at least 3 floors each. Food was really so-so and I must say the Hong Kongers have taken the Cantonese cuisine several, make that many, notches above their Mainland cousins. Frankly, I don't remember much about the food, only that these restaurants resemble chimney stacks spewing tobacco smoke - unlike its more cosmopolitan siblings Shanghai and Beijing, smoking is allowed EVERYWHERE here. We walked out of Tao Tao Ju, another one of those restaurants highly popular with the locals, because it was so smoky that we were gagging. In fact, the entire city was smoggy (visibility no more than 5km) due to the factories and heavy traffic. Even thinking of the rather savoury roast pigeon at Guangzhou Restaurant now brings up wafts of stale nicotine in my head. It is much better to eat off the streets, although that too brings up stinky memories: this time, it's the gutter smell. But at least the food is cheaper and tastier, and you don't pay for callous service or the lack of it. We could actually smile at our food.

荔湾艇仔粥 (Traditional Liwan porridge - we stayed in the Liwan area.)

China Safari

I read this on a plane ride to and back from Guangzhou, having spent my weekend there and catching a performance by Hong Kong stand-up comedian Dayo Wong Tze Wah. China Safari is written by two French-speaking journalists who took a twelve-country tour through the African continent documenting evidence, through interviews, visits and some sneaking-around, of Chinese investment activities (state- and entreprenuer-driven) and military and political involvement in Africa. China is now Africa's second biggest trade partner after the US and a major infrastructure developer across the continent from Sudan to Angola, building resource extraction-related apparatus like hydro-electric dams and railroads. But it is obvious the Chinese are in it for their core interest of resource security and the West's obsession with human rights and democracy has allowed the Chinese gallop ahead and seize opportunities to forge links with African countries and secure concessions from oil drilling to mining and lumbering, throwing up vast profits for both brave entreprenuers and state-owned entities. While the IMF and other US-led organizations are demanding political change in return for foreign aid, the Chinese just dump exorbitant amounts of cash (after all they have US$1.4 trillion at their disposal and who needs taxpayers' permission anyway) on the political leadership interest-free. China's scant regard for human rights and self-proclaimed "non-interference" with domestic politics have also helped endeared them to the African dictators, who are buying Chinese armament and cheap manufactured products in equally copious amounts. China is not just investing money in political leaders and infrastructure projects; they are also investing with their labour (if packing 10,000 Chinese labourers in a ship off to Africa to build a dam at a wage rate of US$500 a month can be called an "investment"), something the "developed" Western countries can no longer do. "God Bless the Chinese," one senior American diplomat in (Congo) Brazzaville says bluntly. "They build roads and dams, and quite frankly we don’t have what it takes to do those things anymore. All we can do is give English classes and try to sell our technology."

The on-the-ground style of reporting is straight-forward and perhaps the best way to deal with such a complex subject. Insight is also shed on the ordinary Africans' reaction to an increasing Chinese presence and the social implications. A quick and fairly comprehensive introduction to what China is doing in Africa.

What you can do with Holga

photos by Teru Kuwayama. Amazing slides on his site.

French Milk for an ill SnowyMonkey

Perhaps as a result of stuffing myself for a whole week (since it was birthday week) and keeping late nights and fretting over plans for the coming new year, my body was responding to my lack of care with a scratchy throat and feverish throbbing in my head. So I spent Saturday at home, alternating between catching some fitful rest and reading French Milk, a graphic journal style travel writing of a 22-year old art student, Lucy Knisley, who spent 6 weeks staying in Paris with her mum and logging her travels and musings in a mixture of cute drawings, not-so-well-taken photographs and kiddy style writing. Perfect for someone who has lost her mental faculties (partly) and looking for something light to while away time. I like her drawings best and she has that clean and earnest style that really appeals to you. Her style reminds me of Herge's TinTin and Asterix. I think comic drawings is a refreshing way to do travel writing. Check out her website.

Seagull 4B-1 won!

The top flips open and becomes the window to the viewfinder.

Ok, so I did go check out the only Seagull camera dealer in Singapore. It's a 40-year old wholesale dealer located in a 70s-style office in the Bugis area. It's really appropriate that they deal with antiques like Seagull because the entire office had this "trapped in time" feel to it. Picture steel office desks with attached drawers, swivel typist chairs and giant typewriters (yup, didn't see a single PC). After some advice from the patient lady (who is probably part of the family-owned business), I decided to get the 4B-1, which is the most basic model and the one I had originally set my eyes on. Main reason is because of the multiple exposure factor and additional 6x4.5 format, both of which are not available in the other 4A series models, despite the latter being deemed "higher-end" due to the more number of "elements" (essentially one more layer of lens to enhance image sharpness). But given the medium format factor, images delivered will definitely be sharper and more vivid than 35mm and not to mention the flat digital format. Online reviews and the lady seem to think that the difference in image quality between 4B and 4A models is negligible unless it comes down to really minute details. Damage? S$210, which is about twice the price from a China-based dealer minus shipping cost but comes with warranty and life-long service. It really bumped the Lubitel out of the ring with the pricing, service (no servicing for Lubitel in Singapore) and looks. Seagull looks like the real deal, with its all-metal casing and parts, except for the lens. The chunk of steel weighs nearly a kilo!

Seagull or Lubitel?

To some, if not many, people, this is a no-brainer. "Of course Seagull. It's cheaper and very well-made." is something I hear/see very often. A Seagull, even the higher end ones in the 4A series sold on the ultra-atas (expensive) lomography.com, is still a couple of hundred dollars cheaper than the crazily-priced Lubitel 166+, which I last checked to be S$580. I like Lubitel 166+ because of its light weight and flexibility. It can shoot both 35mm (can do sprockets!) and medium format (120mm), and has an in-built film winding system (no need to grope around in a film changing bag). So it's like buying a Seagull, which can only shoot 120mm, AND a Lomo LC-A+, which shoots 35mm. Buying both cameras would of course be more expensive but then I would have 2 cameras (yay). So how? I really don't want to import a Lubitel and pay GST, which will bump up the price by another 7%, although shipping is free. I found a Singapore dealer who brings in Seagulls and will take a look at them before deciding. And if he is selling them at a decent price, i.e. not far from what the could-be-dodgy China dealers are quoting (one website says S$100), I guess I will opt for it. I like both Seagull and Lubitel for different reasons but buying one would mean eliminating the other and hence the agonising decision-making process.

Oh and why either? Because I want to play with medium format and more importantly, I want control!! Holga and Chelsea are fun but I don't get to be boss.

Stiff - The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers

An absolutely delightful book. Stiff delves into what happens to dead bodies and their many uses, from crucifixion experiments (like trying to prove whether the Shroud of Turin is real) to surgery practice, crash test dummies (not the fake kind but with real dead bodies) to medical cannibalism (think foetus/placenta tonic in China) and the more well-known issue of organ donation and transplant to the new-fangled, eco-friendly possibility of composting (Freezing little bits of bodies and burying them in shallow graves so that nutrients can be released to grow vegetables in your garden). Written in a journalistic style, the book is easy to read and highly informative. Plus, Mary Roach's wry sense of humour carries the narrative very well and I found myself guffawing at her observations, which by the way, are neither disrespectful to the dead nor callous towards the grief of the bereaved. It's not a book about dying or death. This is a book about notable achievements made while dead.

A snippet from the book's introduction reads:

The way I see it, being dead is not terribly far off from being on a cruise ship. Most of your time is spent lying on your back. The brain has shut down. The flesh begins to soften. Nothing much new happens, and nothing is expected of you.

If I were to take a cruise, I would prefer that it be one of those research cruises, where the passengers, while still spending much of the day lying on their backs with blank minds, also get to help out with a scientist's research project. These cruise take their passengers to unknown, unimagined places. They give them the chance to do things that they would not otherwise get to do.

I guess I feel the same way about being a corpse. Why lie around on your back when you can do something interesting and new, something useful? For every surgical procedure developed, from heart transplants to gender reassignment surgery, cadavers have been there alongside the surgeons, making history in their own quiet, sundered way. For two thousand years, cadavers - some willingly, some unwittingly - have been involved in science's boldest strides and weirdest undertakings...

Holga's take on Lombok/Rinjani

Holga 135
Fujichrome RMS 135/100 film
Kodak B/W 400 film

Crime Fiction

I am a huge fan of crime fiction, which has to be one of my favourite genres of all time. The best ever written one in the world of true crime has got to be Truman Capote's In Cold Blood, which is largely based on the mass murder of a family in rural Kansas by a pair of dysfunctional boys in the late 1950s. A large part of Capote's book is devoted to the dynamic psychological relationship between the two boys, whose gruesome act of crime could not be performed individually. I like the book because it left me quite quite sick after finishing it.

Historical crime fiction is another favourite, especially those set in the 1800s-1900s. Not sure why, but I guess the Victorian times lend a unique atmosphere, which is so important in making a crime story work. I am reading Caleb Carr's excellent excellent "The Alienist", a novel tracing the investigations by crime psychologist (or in those days "alienist" as people with deviant behavior were referred to as "aliens" and hence medical folks who studied them were known as "alienists") Dr Laszlo Kreizler, NYT crime journalist John Moore and NYPD Commissioner Theodore Roosevelt on a serial killer with a penchant for killing poor immigrant kids. The novel involved a number of real-life characters from Teddy Roosevelt (who later became President of USA) to J.P. Morgan. Carr's harrowing and atmospheric tale delivers such great impact that one could not help but smell the fear in the air amidst pungent whiffs of the grotty Lower East Side alleys.

Lombok

I really really didn't want to come back to Singapore (and to reality). We spent 6 wonderful days in Lombok, a most beautiful, peaceful and friendly island east of Bali in Indonesia. The first 3 days were spent trekking up Mt Rinjani, a 3,700-ish metre volcano dominating the Lombok landscape. We did not take the longer trek route to the summit but opted for the crater rim -cum-lake shore itinerary. At the 2,600m high rim, a most amazing view of the crater lake with a "anak" (baby) volcanic cone rising from the middle of the lake was revealed to our gasps in awe of the mountain's majesty. (Photos from Holga will follow shortly.) The hike to the crater rim was arduous, at least for me, for I was the weakest and most unfit among the four of us. Thank God for Sze Yao who gallantly volunteered to carry my pack uphill, for without his help, I would have taken double the time and slowed down our progress. The hike up offered a whole range of mountain experience, starting from the tropical rainforest at the foot (Senaru), then progressing to temperate rainforest (think Pacific Northwest, with lichen coating the mist-shrouded trees with a ghostly white hue and moss hanging from the branches), to the drier, yellow savannah bush landscape further up and finally exposed steep gravelly slopes as we clamoured (crawled for me) up the rim. The first night was spent camping at about 2,000m, with the wind howling incessantly throughout the night (estimated temp of 7-10 deg) and occasional rumblings from the volcano. Hired porters provided great service, from laying our tents with a thin padding to cooking hot chicken soup, which we slurped down eagerly and warmed us to the toes. We were supposed to spend the second day hiking down from the rim to the lake shore, some 1,000m down a precipitous trail. Upon closer examination of the near-vertical plunge, massaging of our wobbly knees and advice from our trekking guide Osman, we decided to abandon the plan and spent our second day going downhill, which proved to be even more trying than the ascent. I was covered from head to toe in brown dust as we half-slid ,half-skidded down the steep sandy slopes. At the end of the one-day trek downhill, my legs felt disconnected from my body as my muscles were no longer able to control any movements.

After a night's rest at the foot of the mountain, we trudged on during the third day to visit some waterfalls, which Osman had kindly offered to bring us, following our forsaken attempt to hike down to the crater lake shore. The waterfall was quite spectacular, with spring water gushing down with a deafening roar from a height of 65m, being the highest waterfall in Lombok. We had an enjoyable and much needed dip in it since we hadn't showered for nearly 3 days.

The next leg of our trip was meant to be a reward for our strenuous "mountaineering" efforts: we booked ourselves into a small beachside resort - Puri Mas, located at Sengigi on the west side of Lombok, which afforded a panoramic view of the turquoise waters of the Lombok strait separating Bali and its lesser-known sister island. We also took a day trip out to the Gili islands off the Lombok mainland (Gili Trawangan, Gili Meno and Gili Air), where we snorkelled in clear, deep waters and had a lazy lunch at the small and rustic Meno island. Apart from colorful coral fishes, we also spotted a couple of puffer fish. Unfortunately, we failed to encounter any sea turtles, despite repeated assurance from our snorkelling guide Kris, most likely because of the colder-than-expected currents, which instead brought throngs of small jellyfish (yes, ouch).

Everyone we met were friendly and welcoming, possibly because we are tourists and the Lombok economy is heavily dependent on tourism for income. At the same time, we all felt that the local folks, despite being less wealthy in monetary terms, were a genuinely happy bunch very much at peace with themselves. As Kris put it with a charming grin, "Here, I'm on holiday everyday".

Photos from iPhone - pardon the poor quality (Holga ones, with views of the crater lake, will be posted shortly. Hopefully, they will turn out well...)

Camp

Lots of sweet pineapples and 3 days worth of nasi/mee goreng

Gullies carved by lava streams. The top is the crater rim, where views of the lake and anak volcanic cone come to the eye (not captured here). It's an almost vertical trail, some 1,000 metres, from the rim down to the lake shore, which we did not attempt after much consideration.

Mist-shrouded hillscape.

View inside the beachside resort Puri Mas

Cottage porch

Garden inside the resort

The tropical heat produces lush and colorful flora. Everything from the sink to our beds were decorated with strewn flowers freshly plucked from the manicured gardens.

Row of rustic Sasak (indigenous people) cottages. I stayed in the middle one.

Lots of Balinese sculptures adorn the resort, whose Dutch Indonesian owner Mr Marcel seems to be greatly inspired by. He also owns a private home-cum-spa retreat located a 5-min drive away from Puri Mas, where he keeps a range of exotic pets from deer to monkey. We had a somewhat painful massage there, mostly due to the back-breaking hiking earlier.

Rolling waves dashing up the seawall fronting our resort.

Moi and the stone frog and the beautiful sea.

The almost-infinity pool.

We nested ourselves on a bale (raised attap pavillion), sipping mint tea for hours, listening to the waves and the laughing shrieks of the local kids frolicking on the surf. Really really didn't want to be back.