London Pix 3

London pix 2

London pix

Home, sweet home...

I lean over from my blanket cacoon and see a sheet of whiteness outside the oval window. I keep looking though, searching for the first glimpse of the city I love. Gradually the haze clears and I look out to this rainy vista, small brick-red houses sprawl organically, surrounded by verdant trees that from this height appear to have been drawn by small children, lollipop-like. I can't explain the emotion that comes with the familiarity of a tree. Such a simple thing, on an ordinary day I must see hundreds. But I've been away. Not for a long time, but long enough to ache for home, for friends and the parts of me that will forever exist only in this city. A kind of joy, a relieved kind of joy, passes through me, and I know I'm gonna have a great time. This is the city I love.

Beach bbq, Singapore style!

Lite

Have you noticed that lots of things are 'lite' nowadays. I don't mean to sound like one of those ranting senior citizens who say things like, "Now then, listen here, all that low-fat rubbish is nonsense! If everyone just got off their fat arse and worked hard rather than watching Richard & Judy all day they'd be able to drink full-cream milk!" I don't really care what other people eat and drink, I mean, it doesn't affect me, and if someone who's dangerously overweight wants to eat a Burger King, well that's ok by me. But sometimes enough is enough, and the healthy option can see like a good idea. I was in Cold Storage the other day (Singapore's equivalent of Waitrose), buying soy milk and laughing at the hilarity of the specially-grown $50 square watermelon, when I noticed that my regular brand of beany-fake-milk-stuff had introduced a 'lite' version. The spelling immediately got my back up, I mean it's only one letter less than the correct spelling! Come on. But it got me thinking... maybe I should be consuming less calories. Maybe if I drink 'lite' soy milk on my cereal I'll be able to eat something else instead. But the problem I've found is that the 'lite' version is generally a euphenism for 'crap-tasting', so I deliberated for a good few minutes on whether to buy it or not. (I would never have wasted such time in London, I was lucky if I even got to the shops, but time is wide-open here, like the grand canyon, all that space just waiting to be filled.) Eventually I buy it, and am disappointed, as I expected. It's kinda watery and more acidic. But hey, at least I can eat another piece of Green & Blacks* to compensate.

* Thank you to everyone who has sent rations of my favourite choc, so much so that there's a bit of a glut at the moment. Unfortunately the ants are rather fond of the Maya Gold, so keep it til I get back folks!

Eeeeekkkkk!!!

There was a storm last night, nothing special about that, it rains loads here and it’s always heavy and aggressive – none of that pathetic English drizzle that can’t decide if it wants to rain or not. Getting off the bus, I threw up my inadequate umbrella and decisively set off up the hill for home, figuring I could always jump straight in the shower should I get soaked. There was something ever-so-slightly scary about walking in this storm though… the night seemed darker than black, the clouds holding up a shade in front of the moon’s light. I carried on, each footstep meeting the pavement firmly in my attempt to get home, and fast. About ten steps on, I step out of my flip flop. No big deal, I turn and retrieve it, slipping my toes into the wet leather. I can’t really see anything, umbrella overhead, my eyes skim the pavement, and my head is full of music turned up loud to counteract the white noise of rain on concrete. Then it happens. A few seconds later a dark streak passes across the pavement and I tread on something small and squishy. Then I hear it, as if in slow motion, ‘Eeekkk!!! Eeekkk!! Eeek! Eeek!’ I look down as I walk on to see a mouse scuttling into the storm drain, having been trodden on by 55kg of Caucasian girl with a small umbrella! I’m ashamed to say that my first thought was for my sanity, wondering if I’d have nightmares. It was only when I shook my umbrella out under the car port that my mind turned to the poor creature. It was probably being flooded out of its home in the storm drain and rushing to the surface for respite gets trodden on by a giant! I hope it’s ok. I mean, I don’t really like mice, but I wouldn’t want to break one’s spine or anything. I’ll be more careful in the rain from now on, I promise.

Over and over

The title of this blog is actually the title of a track by Hot Chip, who I'm loving at the moment. I first saw them in the Square Pie Tent at Glastonbury this year... though Jags did point out that I had my fingers in my ears for the first few minutes until I got 'into' their overexcited style. I remember being transfixed by the small guy in an owl t-shirt whose contribution to the band was to bang a cow bell ...

Anyway, I was gonna blog about how I've been folding paper over and over, not about Hot Chip, even though they're ace and deserve a whole post to themselves.

On Saturday a colleague and I went to Konokuniya, the Japanese bookshop at Takashimaya... it's a geek's paradise, floor upon floor of beautiful books, so I was happy. We ended up buying all this gorgeous origami paper, only to find that the instructions are all weird and we can only remember how to make a crane:

They're beautiful nontheless, and slightly addictive. I've now decided to try to make a collection and string them all together....

I'm a secret Starbucks lover...

For once in my life I’m grateful to Starbucks. Not because I’ve made it my mission to visit every branch on the planet, nor because I like their coffee (admit it, it’s pretty average). No, I’m grateful to this multi-national highly reproductive coffee dispenser because it’s Sunday afternoon, and I’ve come here for a rest. I’ve just been to church and listened to a sermon about sex from an old Canadian guy – a bit like listening to your dad talking about his sex life, had lunch with some friends, and now I have a few hours to kill.

So, I spend $3.85 on a decaf soy latte, and climb sixteen noisy stairs to the first floor of my local ‘bucks. Taking a seat, I count eight other people like me – alone that is – and they’re all busy… reading, studying, listening to their ipods, smsing, one guy is colouring in, he must be a geography student. Hardly anyone’s actually drinking coffee, empty cups and discarded napkins litter the tables.

This quasi-community breathes in synch and there’s a strange sense of ‘belonging’ in this room with the ubiquitous beech chairs and chequerboard tables. We can all stay here as long as we like, all day if we feel like it, because we can’t be thrown out… it would go against the ‘home from home’ advertising by-line. So here we are, in our public lounge, our home for the afternoon, entertaining ourselves by not speaking to anyone else. I wonder what would happen if I tried to start a conversation with someone… it stays a thought, it would be too weird. What would I say? ‘Do you come here often?’ The eternally bad chat-up line.

I did a talk about a year ago about how ipods are the symbol of our generation – the epitome of selfishness, music for one (I now own one so include myself). Just as we listen to our own private vibes, being here in this fridge-like coffee shop on a hot day accentuates the defragmentation of our society. We think we ‘are’, we think we ‘exist’, we think we ‘belong’ here, but we’re lying to ourselves. We’re very much alone on these rented chairs. The guy next to me is a foreign country. My visa has been refused.

Pelican

When I was in Perth, we were driving along the coast near Mandurah, when we spotted three huge pelicans at the side of the river. This one was huge, it came up to my chest in height. He let me get about a metre away before leaping into the water. Pretty cool huh?

Hairy Experience

Do you like going to the hairdressers? Personally I don’t rate it. The experience sits with getting my teeth cleaned, or spending four hours on a National Express bus. But like all of those things, it’s sometimes a necessity. I was pretty wary of letting a Singaporean loose on my Irish locks, having heard horror stories of too many layers and looking like a bush afterwards (Asian hair is cut very differently), so walking past Toni & Guy earlier it seemed to be a good idea. Even in Oz, it’s a pretty pricey place, so I didn’t expect to be soaked by the person washing my hair, or told “You really should brush your hair more” by the stylist. She was a nice enough person, but there’s something aggravating about sitting in front of a mirror for over an hour while a stranger gives you tips on how to have better hair, when I know that I’ll go back to scrunching it with some nice smelling stuff and leaving it to dry in the sun. Oh no, apparently I’m using completely the wrong shampoo, not enough conditioner, I don’t wash my hair enough and I should really think about colour, because everyone’s doing it nowadays and if I want to keep up I’d better join the masses. Hmmm. I felt so rubbish about myself at the end of it that my first thought was to go and buy a whole new outfit! Reality soon hit though, and I went for sushi instead. It’s the green tea, it’s good for you :-)

Perth

Perth is a small city on a huge, wide river with boats and twinkling water reflecting the sun's rays. I'm told that it's almost winter here, but I'm incredulous - people are wearing shorts and flip flops! The cityscape has the appearance of being unreal - like a toy town made out of blocks that can be picked up, examined and put down in a different place. Time seems to have affected slow change here, the buildings have a 1980s feel, and the pace of life is gentle. But who could ask for a better place to spend a weekend? A gentle swim and a walk along a fairytale beach... I like it already.

On the move

An unfamiliar cityscape rolls past smeared windows, and I squint to make out lights – red, blue, white mainly, on predictably tall buildings. Tinny speakers on the airport bus churn out Bon Jovi at low volume, competing, just, with the engine noise. As the bus comes to a slow halt, I resignedly pick up my bags and walk through another grey airport corridor that will lead me, I’m told, to the domestic terminal, and my connection. I’m traveling again.

Whoever said traveling for work was glamorous obviously went on one exciting trip to a Munich tradefair in 1987, the hard bed and eyes scratchy from aeroplane air long forgotten. This morning I splashed cold water on my tired face at 6.30am, early for a Sunday, early for any day for me, and dressed in carefully thought-out black layers for the change in environment. I’m grateful now, as I stop at a bench to peel off my cardigan. It’s warm, warm enough to feel unsettled and slightly queasy. The food on the flight was below-average, and I suddenly realise that I’m ravenous… A glance at the departure board tells me there’s over an hour before the flight boards and I feel like a salad. But it’s Sunday evening and most of the shops are closing. I hurry, hoping to catch a café before closing... no such luck. I sigh and make do with a packet of rice crackers on the flight.

Nine Dragons

In the city of dragons
I chase a shadow
Through this crisp, cold night…
Toes turning blue in summer shoes
We climb, past forest and grey earth
Distant small dwellings.
An engine rumbles
A dog bark echoes.
Here’s a tall pink house,
Reaching its thin roof
Gracefully to the night sky,
With a slither of white light
From a vertical window.
I’m welcomed, this stranger, with
Red wine, drunk slowly,
Sardines, sausages from Waitrose
Talk of flamenco, school and you.
Through smalltalk
Blue eyes search for you
Down a valley to China
But I’ve missed you…
Chasing a shadow,
I’ve missed you.

One for the tourists...

What trip to Singapore would be complete without a trip to Raffles Hotel for afternoon tea? I headed there with my relatives for dim sum, scones, cakes and plenty of tea. It was lovely, but everyone (including us) spent more time taking photos - of the room, each other, the food - that I couldn't help but wonder if we'd all have been better off in a museum.

Durian

Singapore's national fruit is called the "durian", and it's got a fierce reputation for being one of those things to taunt foreigners with! About the size of a melon with spiky green skin, the inside holds pockets of vomit-yellow fruit. The most distinctive characteristic isn't the appearance of this spiky fruit, but the smell... akin to a toilet after a dodgy curry! Consequently they are banned on public transport and people cross the road to avoid a stall selling them at the side of the road. The people I live with, like many Singaporeans, love the durian though. I wanted to try it and tried to have an open mind as I put the slimy flesh into my mouth whilst holding my nose. Two mouthfuls were enough to convince me that I can leave the humble durian off my list of new favourites... even the pigs' trotters were better than this.

Up a mountain

A 45 minute journey on the MTR, and a similar-length, though much more precarious bus journey around Lantau Island, brought us to Ngong Ping, a Buddhist monastry on top of a small mountain. Ngong Ping has the largest statue of a seated Buddha in the world, and is reached by climbing up 260 steps. The weather was kinda misty though, so instead of a shining awe-inspring God in the sky, the Buddha took on a grey, dull appearance. There wasn't any hint of a religious experience due to the hoards of gibbering tourists (ourselves included). I was excited though, but as the bus climbed higher into the mist I realised my summer skirt and flip flops were a bit ambitious... Luckikly for us, a smiling lady at the ticket office took pity on us and provided these rather attractive knitwear items from lost property... a day to remember!

The kindness of strangers (part deux)

I've written about this before, but I'm constantly amazed at the kindness of strangers. I'm now an old hand at turning up in a new place and unashamedly using whatever contacts I can muster to meet new people. Hong Kong was no different... I had the name of one girl who invited me to a bbq on a rooftop, literally halfway up a mountain in the New Territories. En route with her and her fiance, we made small talk and chatted about mutual friends, as the KCR cut its way up through rocky ground. A few things in common, we managed to connect our not-so-disparate lives together. An hour's journey and a cab ride later, a fairytale village came into view... a lone pink house, reminiscent of a child's drawing, rose up to greet us, a single vertical window cutting down from the eves with a slither of light. It was cold, but as I shivered and climbed twisty stairs to the sky, I knew it was going to be cool. Over earthy red wine and charred sardines I heard stories of this foreign yet familiar land, inspiration oozing from each word uttered my way. They may not remember me, a girl in a blue shirt and inappropriate shoes, but I'll remember them.

Hong Kong

These few months have been such an eye-opener, so many new experiences. The familiar has been replaced with newness, and I'm not shocked by much nowadays... But Hong Kong was an awesome experience. It's everything that Singapore isn't - busy, noisy, bustling, dirty around the edges, full of neon signs. I loved everything about it, from paper lanterns suspended in the dark air, to skinny trams cutting through traffic. I hope I get to go back.

Buried alive...

I’ve never been one of those high-maintenance girls who spends half her salary on make-up and pampering, but I do love the odd treat, like anyone. All that kind of stuff is cheap here in Singapore, so when my visitors arrived they were keen to take advantage. A pedicure and manicure later, we were really getting into this pampering lark, and someone suggested a facial… Ahhh, lush, I thought. Just imagine lying in a dark room with cucumber on your eyes and gentle music…

A door slams in the distance and footsteps move along a corridor behind my head. I hear muffled voices, and two people laughing. The sounds drift away and I’m alone again in my head. My heart is beating fast under the blanket and the temperature is rising. I try to relax and think calm thoughts, but I’m overwhelmed. I can’t see anything; my eyes and mouth are sealed shut. Two small holes have been left for my nose, and as I reach my hand up to my face I realise that the weight on my face is two inches thick. The hardening mass reaches from my forehead to the top of my ribcage, and it’s hot, not just warm, but hot. This was meant to be relaxing, so why do I feel like I’m a prisoner? I try to be brave but all I keep thinking is “I’m being buried alive and paying for the privilege”. Twenty minutes later I’m set free, and walking outside to meet my aunt at a café I start to cry… was this what they meant when they said “pain is beauty?” If so I’d rather be ugly.

Busy busy bee!

These last few weeks have been pretty busy. My inbox and washing basket are full and I’m running to catch up on emails, friends, phone calls, birthdays etc. Sometimes life moves so fast that sleep eludes and everything is rushed. The start of April saw a busy week with all of our key contacts from Asia-Pacific coming to Singapore for networking. I spent most of the week chatting to people and snatching the odd glimpse at my email.

Oh! My God! I Miss You!

Too many people!

If the definition of an "extrovert" is a person who gets energy from being around lots of new people, then I'm definitely an introvert. I love people, I adore my friends and am missing you all like crazy, but talking to people I don't know isn't relaxing. One or two are ok, but these past few weeks I've met SO many new people that my E-Q is getting full. I've been travelling with work and this week all our regional contacts from the Asia-Pacific are here, so there are lots of new faces. I was talking to a guy earlier and it was as if my brain had the plug pulled on it, white noise flowed through my head and crackled. I think I need a holiday... I've got one coming next week when my mum and two aunts are coming to stay, so I'm looking forward to that...

The journey so far...

Now I've been to a few more places, I've apparently been to 9% of the world! Not very impressive, hey? I'm still hoping to add a few more before London calls me back in the summer.

Word Cloud

Whatever will they think of next? Here is a 'word cloud', whatever that is... a clever computer scanned my blog and picked out some words to put in this 'cloud'. Funny how many of them refer to food... hmmm, getting hungry...

Geometric Diversion

When life is speeding past tired eyes as a car on the freeway at dusk, I find solace and peace in the simplest things, like browsing Marimekko fabrics on the web...

Lazy Sunday

I'm offically a lazy bum. It's 8pm on Sunday evening and I haven't left the house since arriving back from the airport at 4pm on Friday... that's a lot of hours! All I've achieved is:

• writing blog (highly productive and worthwhile activity)
• eating eggs
• doing two loads of washing (yawn...)
• drinking approximately 12 cups of tea
• learning to make a 13" x 13" party cake complete with icing (people pay money for that don't you know)
• eating pork and rice and spicy eggplant
• sneezing, a lot
• calling some friends and relatives (high point scoring)
• tidying room
• unpacking suitcase
• writing letter to friend
• drinking one glass of red wine (lush)
• eating small packet of crackers
• finishing Kafka on the Shore (disappointing ending).

Not bad for a weekend lazing around the house...

Zzz zzz zzz

I have just woken up after manufacturing zzz's for 19 hours! Can you believe it? That's almost three night's worth of sleep in one hit. I knew I was tired, but that's got to be a record? I didn't sleep much on the flights back from Almaty, partly due to being woken up to eat beef curry at 4am (what were they thinking?!), and being stuck next to a very wriggly Malaysian on the final stretch. My brain has had so much stimulation and so little rest for the past ten days, that I'm just exhausted... am going to blog for a bit then, hmm, let me see, might take a nap...

Almaty, Kazakhstan

Arriving at a place I'd never heard of until a few months back, in a country I knew little about, with a language I can only say four words in, I was struck by a feeling that is becoming more common with each month that passes outside the UK... I'm a stranger here. My visit to Almaty is a humbling experience. It seems to me that Central Asia, this stretch along the Silk Route, is somewhere that the world has forgotten about. Whenever the world map pops up in my heard, I'm ashamed to say that I seem to get to India a bit too quickly, without even seeing the huge expanse of countries between China and Russia. On this trip we met people from Uzebekistan, Tajikistan, Azerbaijan, Kyrgyzstan, Afganistan, Turkmenistan... Places I hadn't given a second thought, until now.

I've never been to Russia, so was surprised at the intensity of the Russian language. To my British ear, the Russians sound as if they are cross, all the time! It was hard to get used to, especially when I would say something meaningful and hear the translator (to my ear) shouting it back in Russian!

Kazakhstan was part of the former USSR until 1990, when it gained independence. They are the lucky ones, the country has huge oil fields and oil money will pay for the country to build up its economy, as it's starting to do already. Immigration is up 30% as people from neighbouring countries come to find a better life.

The landscape is bleak, yet hauntingly beautiful - the city of Almaty is surrounded by snow-capped, fairytale mountains. Yet there are signs everywhere of the previous political system and the darkness behind the country's newfound economic wealth. Women in rags with pale children beg at the roadside, poverty affects the old and the infirm, young teenagers are affected by cancer and illness due to toxic water and earth contaminated by nuclear testing during communism. I met a 15 year old girl with breast cancer, stomach cancer and and a weeping tumour on her innocent face. These people are desperate for something, for change, and I believe that change is on its way in the form of hope and trust in God. Those we met were hungry for newness, for their faith to grow, for more of God. In a land where life is often hard, maybe it's easier for them to trust and have complete faith in the one above. In the West we trust ourselves, our own ability to look after our families, to plan out our own lives, but in doing so maybe we lose something - the reality that life is short, we're here for a purpose, even if things are tough.

This trip has changed me, and given me a heart for that region, for the people I had forgotten existed. I hope I'm never as ignorant again.

I'm starving, I could eat a...

How many times have I said that in my life? Hundreds probably...

Little did I know that it would come back to bite me one day! One of Kazakhstan's delicacies is horse meat, and we were presented with some on the first evening we arrived... Here's me eating a bit..

It tasted pretty good, better than I was expecting - like very salty beef. Two days later we were given horse and pasta for lunch, that was equally as good, apart from the 'horse milk' that accompaigned it. I'm ashamed to say that having eaten duck's brains, sheep stomach and all kinds of unappetising stuff, the adventurous part of my tongue switched off, and I refused it politely. Seeing everyone else's faces, it was the right choice...

Beijing on foot

Something you learn pretty quickly in China is that a zebra crossing doesn't mean ANYTHING. I can't understand why the government wasted money on white paint when the stripes that are painted so neatly across wide roads don't mean a thing! You pretty much have to pray and run across before a car or taxi runs you over.

I decided to be brave though, and took a walk from my hotel along one of the main roads across the city. Walking west on a Sunny Sunday afternoon I took in some of the sights.

After about ten minutes, the sky was full of kites! Their bright colours stood out against the cornflower blue sky:

They were attached to their owners standing in this park, more like a sculpture garden:

Later this little vehicle caught my eye... it's a disabled person's way of getting around the city.

Life in grey

Life can be quiet and leave me alone sometimes, not much happens and much of the day is lost in my own thoughts. Not so in China though! Since arriving a few days ago (feels like forever), every minute has been full to bursting with newness. It's my first visit to China, and my first experience of doing business with the Chinese, so it shouldn't have come as a surprise, but I'm still astounded at this sprawling city.

The city is shrouded in grey. A sandstorm from Mongolia brought a fine covering of grey-white powder across the buildings and cars, and the sky was full of clouds (or pollution), pretty depressing.

I was up early to check out of my gorgeous Western-style business hotel and move two miles down the road to a cheaper place. It's nice but feels much darker. My room is shrouded in dark wood and I feel like Miss Marple tapping away at the desk.

I'd hoped to get to the Great Wall or the Forbidden City while I'm here, but time is running short and we have to work on Saturday, so the precious sights will have to save for another time. I'm lucky to be here, so I shouldn't complain, and I've seen a side of China most tourists probably wouldn't ever see. My Chinese is non-existent, so even though I can read some kanji from learning Japanese all those years ago, most of the time I feel like such an outsider. There's a whole world out there that I don't understand, I haven't even scratched at the surface.

At dinner today I sat next to a man who was the first ever Chinese allowed to marry a foreigner. He met his wife in the seventies when China and the US had a cultural exchange - children of American diplomats and senators were sent to China for the first time. He fell in love with an American, but was refused permission to marry her until the Premier gave his approval... a symbol of a crack opening up in China's consciousness to shine its light to the outside world.

Ok, it's getting weirder!

Yesterday had to be up there in the most bizarre days of my entire life... After some pretty straightforward meetings in the morning and tasty Beijing beef noodles for lunch, my colleague and I got a call to say another meeting had been set up for us with publishing house. We didn't know anything about it, but decided to go with the flow and jump in the taxi...

An hour later we arrived at a pretty unexciting office - ten desks, ten phones, ten computers, ten minutes looking around, not quite sure what we were looking at! We then got back in the taxi and drove an hour back into town to the head office, where were greeted enthusiastically by four Chinese men who proceeded to tell us how great their company was... My mind was ticking and reality began to hit - they wanted to publish and distribute our stuff. We were then taken out to an expensive Sezchuan restaurant. I've recently developed an ability to eat things that actually make me wretch, it's been pretty useful on this trip! The only strange food I ate at this meal was pig's liver - I wouldn't have touched it but it was already on my plate and I was kind of committed!

The Chinese do business late into the night, over dinner and lots of drinking... I luckily managed to make my quarter glass of 52% proof rice-wine last all evening, but some weren't so lucky. Almost at the end of the meal, the guy next to me, who'd been knocking back the stuff, proceeded to vomit right onto the dinner table! It was awful! That brought the meal to an abrupt end and half an hour later I feel into bed, exhausted, head spinning with the craziness of the day, and my mind shouting 'Enough! No more stimulation! Please!' Let's see what tomorrow brings...

The weirdest city, ever

This few months is providing a milliard of firsts... this week, my first visit to China. I'm writing this blog from Beijing, in a hotel which could be anywhere in the world, so generic is the interior. Step outside, however, and I'm in a place foreign to my English eyes. Having arrived last night, I was suddenly rendered illiterate - unable to even read a road sign, let alone pronounce it correctly! Maybe that experience is good for me and can remind me of what it's like to be in a foreign place. My impressions so far of this huge city are mixed... I'm here for work, and I've met the kindest most open people, yet there's an oppressive atmosphere here... I can't explain it, but the smog that covers the city, even on this sunny, crisp Spring day, seems to penetrate my skin and makes me feel uneasy. There's lots to love and explore though, the food is fantastic, soft dim sum for breakfast and a Chinese banquet for dinner - you can't do better than that! I'm hoping to get to the Great Wall of China at the weekend. Though the myth that it can be seen from space has been dispelled, I'm still excited about walking along one of the Great Wonders of the World. It's times like these, alone late at night in an unfamiliar hotel room, when I'm reminded how lucky I am, that this world we live in is full of newness and the kindness of strangers, if we just get out of our comfort zone to look for it.

Kismis Green

The road where I'm staying in Singapore is called 'Kismis Green'. I like to think of it as 'Kiss-mis', far more romantic. It was only when the cab driver who took me home the other day said that all the Kismis roads here are so called because the person who named them couldn't spell 'Christmas'! Kinda cute :-)

Wibble wobble

It’s been a funny week so far… after a little wobble at the weekend (probably brought on by not enough sleep or getting out of bed on the wrong side), which had me thinking ‘why am I here in Singapore? What am I doing? Why don’t I go back to London?’, I’m now loving it again. Every week that passes by I see more of this country and experience the kindness of the people. Because everyone speaks English, well, Singlish to be precise, lah, it’s easy to ignore the cultural differences and expect things to be as they are at home. But Asia is Asia, and I’m only just beginning to understand the Chinese culture. Living with a Chinese family is probably the best thing I’ve done in my whole adult life, just being with them and chatting about their experiences, views on the world etc has opened up my mind to a whole other world. Lucy, who’s the same age as my mum and just as lovely, is teaching me to cook Chinese food. So far I can make Hainese Chicken Rice, Char Siew (Chinese Roast pork), Roti Jalu (India lacy pancakes) and dumplings! Legend. When I’m back I promise to have you all round for a feast…

Ooo it's warm out here!

I've been meaning to write something about the weather for ages, but have procrastinated as I didn't want to appear like I was bragging or anything. It's been between 28 and 34 degrees since I arrived and it's now hotting up even more. The thing is, the heat doesn't bother me in itself, in fact it's quite nice to be wearing flip flops all the time, but couple that with the damp humidity and you're in a whole world of trouble! I hadn't really experienced humidity like it until coming here, I suppose it is a tropical climate though! I've adopted various tactics from the locals to aclimatise to the stickiness:

• Wearing two layers rather than one, the bottom one absorbs all the sweat, even though you do get a bit hotter
• Putting something called a 'thirsty hippo' into my wardrobe. This hippo absorbs the moisture from the air and stops my clothes going mouldy
• Putting a damp cloth on the floor in my room before I go to bed so that I don't wake up like a shrivelled orange from the air con
• Moth balls ... hmmm. All my clothes smell of them, but better than being holey
• Don't walk anywhere, ever, if you can help it. Not even to the end of the road

If you're reading this wearing four layers and a hat to keep the draught from coming in then I apologise. I would change places with you tomorrow.... ummm, can you hear the insincerity in my tone?

Japanese wisdom...

"Anyone who falls in love is searching for the missing pieces of themselves. So anyone who's in love gets sad when they think of their lover. It's like stepping back inside a room you have fond memories of, one you haven't seen in a long time."

Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

Ballet

I finally made it to ballet this week! I just couldn't live without it, my legs were turning into jelly and my back was getting all lazy and rounded. So, with anticipation and a nervous excitement I ventured to Tanjong Pagar to be the new girl in the elementry class at a performing arts school. I love ballet, I can't explain it in words, but something in me is addicted to the combination of beauty and structure that it entails. I'm rubbish, and I'll never be a ballerina, but in pointed feet and graceful arms I've found a home, something to calm and soothe and warm my heart. There were only seven of us in the calm, white studio, an attentive teacher encouraging and faithful to the art that has captured these few girls in a hot city. I'm about 100% happier now, I must be easily pleased :-)

Frothy tea anyone?

Starbucks really are missing out on one mother of a marketing opportunity… Haven’t they heard of a tea-chino or a milo-chino, or a horlicks-chino for that matter? Obviously not. Well I think they’re missing out. Today I tentatively stuck my neck out and tried a ‘tea-chino’ in my local Muslim Indian seafood restaurant. For starters, I caused a bit of a stir by virtue of being a Caucasian woman dining alone, but once I’d managed to establish that I knew what to order and how to pronounce ‘roti prata’ in just the right accent, the over-attentive waiter with bad moustache left me alone. A few seconds after ordering (better service than Starbucks), a beer mug of frothy tea, with a head that deserved the glass, appeared in front of Jules’ eager eyes. I’ve never fancied frothy tea, assuming it was caused by lime scale and unidentifiable bits in the kettle, but this was lush… sweet with an illusion of ginger somewhere in there… The ladies at work think I’m really adventurous, maybe I’ll show them just how adventurous I am and order a ‘horlicks dinosaur’* next time…

* that’s a little mystery for you all… answers on a comment and dinner to anyone who can guess what it is. (Singaporeans not allowed to answer!)

Clementi, Thursday, 8.53pm

Ebony sky
Five stars, seven
Palm trees,
A slither of moon, silver
I see,
From my water vantage.

Splish, splash, my ears tickle,
Hands pull through cool treacle.

Alone in my paradise,
I marvel,
At cool water,
And a bikini
In February.

Miss you, you miss...

Ahhh how I miss certain things from home... I decided to make a list of what they were to weigh up if it was really all that bad living without them for six months:

• Unsweetened soya milk (everything here is full of sugar)
• Green & Blacks, though was sent some recently so kinda ok
• A friend in a stripy jumper and flat cap
• Houmous, yeah baby, the Greeks have yet to make it to my neighbourhood
• Oat cakes - I actually paid S$6.50 for some recently, that's the same price as two chicken dinners
• Being able to walk for more than five minutes without being drowned in sweat and ready to sit down
• A duvet to sleep under (way too hot)
• You
• Ballet, I miss it so much!
• My bike, especially the basket.

That's pretty much it, so not going too badly. I think I'll survive!

Aussie Archtitecture

Turn a corner in this great Australian city, and your eyes will no doubt great something of brilliant man-made beauty... the photos don't do justice to the city holding this year's Commenwealth games next month, but you get the idea...

This silver cubist form holds the state art collection... not quite as impressive as the Tate Modern, but then I'm probably biased!

A big artichoke? Or something more ephemeral?

Blogiversary

I'd like to coin a new word... 'blogiversary'. Today it's almost exactly one year since my first posting on this blog... The idea came one weekend when I was away with some friends, and I resolved to write something, anything slightly creative, every day. After a tenative start and some re-assessing throughout, here I am, a year later loving every minute of it. So if you're reading this thanks for your kind words and your time, it makes me smile when I hear that people are enjoying reading my reflections...

Talking of reflections, here's one of me in Federation Square, Melbourne...

How's the pressure m'am?

Now that I lay my little head in a country where the bus fare to work costs 34p and a great meal costs less than £1, there’s a little more room for ‘luxuries’. Feeling like a Stepford Wife I guiltily enjoyed a pedicure after work last week, the first in my 26 and a bit years on this green earth. Sitting reading Asian woman’s magazines with my feet in a rose petal bubble bath, I was temporarily transported into someone else’s life. I tried to imagine what it would be like not to work, but to have all day every day to entertain myself as a lady of leisure. Every weekend I wish that there was an extra life, and I love a holiday as much as the next person, but I really don’t know what I’d do to pass the time… there’s only so much lunching and pampering one can stand. Anyhow, I digress. I left 45minutes later leaving a gorgeous pile of dead skin on the floor that looked rather like desiccated coconut. My toenails are sporting a very fetching shade of pale green, and my heels are soft as a cushion.

So toenails all sparkly, I was feeling slightly too excited for my own good when myself and two friends decided to book into the 'Javanese Massage Hut' at the end of my road for a one hour 'full body' massage. I've had a 'full body' before, so thought I knew what to expect. I'm pretty o-fey with being almost entirely naked in front of a complete stranger, and anyway, there were going to be two friends lying next to me. So in we go, laughing hysterically at the paper knickers and loving the smell of the herbal oils. What none of us were prepared for though was the Javanese definition of 'full body'. I know there are men reading this so I won't elaborate, but let's just say there was touching in places I wasn't expecting...

Places I've been to, tra la la...

Now that I've seen a bit more of the world, here's a map showing the countries I've visited... it's a pitiful 8% of the world, but I'm hoping to add a few more over the next few months...

G'day!

My gorgeous friend Graham once went out with an Austrian girl who used to complain that everyone's view of her home country was based solely on The Sound Of Music. I remember thinking this was quite funny, and then realising in horror that my view of Austria really was based on the singing Von Trapp family! I was ashamed and tried to rectify the situation with a quick google search and a vow never to be in the same narrow-minded place again.

This morning as I woke to the sun stretching his fingers through an unfamiliar window, I heard the sound of a small animal screaching outside... My brain works on go-slow at that time of the morning but today the realisation I was 'down under' kinda hit me at top speed. (I'm the furthest away from home I've ever been in my entire 26 and a bit years of existence, yet everything feels normal. Anyway, I digress.) The lady I was staying with had told me that the screaching sound was the noise of 'little possums' (said in a Dame Edna-esque voice!) outside. "Do you know about possums?" she asked? "Oh yeah," I said. "Hannah from Neighbours adopted one once..." Arrrggghhh!! I suddenly realised that my view of Australia was based almost wholly on a bad tv soap... Must be more cultured and wise. Must be more cultured and wise...

Internet Junkie

Do you find your life incredibly liberated by, yet stupidly restrained by the internet? Take this week, I have a ‘to do’ list that’s a fairly impressive length, and more than half of the stuff on there requires surfing before I can smugly draw a tick in the little box I draw next to each item. It’s not that I mind, in fact I really love looking stuff up online, it avoids travel agents, going to the train station, speaking to real people about my bank account, but it’s also really anti-social. I figure I could spend two evenings this week and still not get all the stuff I want done finished. Hmmm. What to do? I could always get up really early, go to Starbucks and connect to wi-fi and drink cappuccino, but hang on, I’m walking the dog, and if I were to get up any earlier I’m sure my legs and arms will fall off before I even made it into the shower, they’re so heavy early in the morning! Well, maybe I’ll just relax and hang loose and look forward to the weekend in Australia before I tick all the boxes…

Monkey monkey

Well here's a picture of a monkey made of pink flowers hugging a post in a shopping centre... now you don't see that very day, do you?! I think this particular monkey had something to do with Chinese New Year, but you can't be too sure.

Anyway, the exciting news is that I'm off to Melbourne tomorrow! Can hardly contain my excitement, I'm sure I'll be awake all night with excitement. Speaking of being awake all night, I have been having trouble sleeping due to being woken up by by a fat cockroach running across my floor two nights running.... and you thought you were jealous of the tropical climate!

Loving Life

I’ve just had the most lovely weekend ever… sometimes life is so good that I can’t quite believe it, if I shut my eyes I almost believe it won’t be there when I open them again. I’ve been here for just over a month and things are getting more familiar… I have a routine, (including walking the aforementioned pooch), and have established a couple of favourite lunch places, as well as a much longer list of things I’d really rather not ever eat again in this life… I’ve gone swimming loads, loving the warmth of the water and the sun on wet skin, and have developed the habit of carrying my bikini around with me on the off chance I’ll be invited somewhere with a pool (happens quite often!) The lifestyle here is certainly one I could get used to. I miss my friends and family from home, and the Tate Modern (!) but apart from that I’m happy. Love it! As my gorgeous friend Tana would say!

More tea?

My landlady is a top cook, she thinks nothing of whipping up four dishes for dinner in half an hour, all with ingredients I haven’t even seen before, let alone tasted… so you can imagine the fear when she asked me to teach her ‘British cooking’. Now, us Brits now that while we can all whip up an Uncle Ben’s sweet and sour or a thai curry with ready made paste, it’s another thing to be Delia Smith with the old beef and Yorkshires… Rather than starting with something complicated I suggested scones, even though they’re really a bit boring and don’t take much effort to do. She absolutely loved it! We made about 80 on the table in the garden, no joke, flour everywhere and the smell of baking competing with next door’s fried bee hoon. Hilariously we then sat down to a cream tea with Earl Grey and jam and cream… it was ace. I thought the English cream tea was all over until I found that while I was out the following day, her and her husband set up a table in front of a row of sunflowers in the garden. They brought out the best china and set up the scones on a cake stand, donned their best clothes and took photos of themselves eating the scones!! Don’t you just love it! I was glad to be of service to the Chinese community. In return I learnt how to make wantons, be warned, they look easy but mine tasted of glue.

Pix at last...

Can you believe it! I’ve finally managed to get a laptop which means I can download my photos and make you all envious of blue skies (except when it’s raining), lying by the pool all weekend and eating unidentifiable food.. talking of which, here’s a few pix of Chinatown at Chinese New Year including some of the ‘delicacies’ that are eaten/endured at this time of year. The green pear shaped things are pomelos, kinda like a big sweet grapefruit, and the stuff hanging up is Chinese sausage ... yum.

Rain

So what’s new? It’s getting hotter here… the rain has stepped up in defense of the rising temperatures too. I don’t think I can ever call the trickling from the sky that we get in England rain again. Walk one metre in Singapore’s afternoon monsoon and your clothes become part of you cos they’re so stuck to your skin. Hmmm. I’ve learnt that forgetting your umbrella is the equivalent of social suicide. If it’s raining you’re basically stuck where you are until it stops.. fine if the storm lasts ten minutes, but not so funny if it pours for an hour. Catching a cab in the rain is also a feat similar to not falling off the luge in the winter Olympics.

Koala

Just got back from a hot weekend in Kuala Lumpur. I'm still not completely set-up computer-wise, so you'll have to imagine the photo of me at the Petronas towers... KL was cool. I hadn't realised how this tiny island can start to feel a bit claustrophobic... everything here is squeaky clean (I saw a man cleaning the road signs the other day), and I was desperate for a bit of raw reality. So I set off with my toothbrush, sunscreen, bikini (well a girl can dream!) and hopes for a change of scenery and the 'real' Asia. The bus journey takes five hours and was better than any I've ever taken in the UK, this was no National Express. The seats were huge and reclined, we were served lunch and snacks of watermelon and red bean dumplings at various stages along the way and best of all the journey actually took the time it said it would.

Highlights of KL included:

- buying a pair of really nice sandals for less than 4 pounds
- eating chey keow in Chinatown just next to a lady killing frogs by whacking them on the head with a hammer (hang on, that shouldn't be in the highlights section, you call yourself an editor?!)
- sleeping for a really long time in a king size bed (yes on my own!)
- watching or should I say listening to the lion dance for Chinese New Year as it went through Starbucks to bring 'luck and prosperity'

Walkies

Do you ever find yourself in a comedy situation and wonder how you got there? This seems to happen to me more regularly than I consider funny, but hey, makes life more interesting. I asked myself this exact question this morning as I was dragging a very old dog through a park at 7.30 am. Now, for those of you who know me, even a little bit, you'll know that Jules + early morning = bad idea. Most of my good friends have learned not to even try to engage me in conversation until I've been up for at least three quarters of an hour. I'm grumpy in the morning, I know it and I don't pretend to be otherwise. Also, I don't really like dogs. (I was going to say I 'hate' them, but I think hate is a very strong word. A friend of mine tells her kids to say something isn't their 'cup of tea' as it's more polite... so to clarify, dog's aren't my cuppa of choice.) So when my new neighbour asked if I'd mind walking her old boxer dog while she's on holiday, I said yes. What was I thinking?! I can only assume that the rational part of my brain was otherwise engaged in watching a gekko or something. So, for the next two weeks the girl with clothes hastily thrown on, pulling an old dog through Cheng Seung past the ladies doing tai chi is (unfortunately), me.

The case of the invisible photos

Everyone wants to see photos... I'm sorry to say that I haven't quite got 'round to installing the software from my camera to upload them... Watch this space though, I may become organised overnight and treat you all to a colourful slideshow!

Things I've Eaten over Chinese New Year

(Knowingly or unknowingly, not sure which is better):

Fish heads
Sea cucumber
Liver (raw)
Chicken feet
Dried oysters
Black moss
Insects (though later realised they actually weren't supposed to be in the dish)
Abalone (anyone who can tell me what it is wins a prize)
Pigs' insides (didn't ask which bit)
Some glutunous stuff wrapped in peanuts

Oh for a ham sandwich....

Meatballs

The other day it was one of my new work colleague's birthdays. I only found out on the day itself and was immediately concerned about my lack of card/present/bunch of flowers for the birthday girl. But no need to fear, it soon transpired that no one else had anything to give her either... perhaps they're not that into presents, or maybe it's too near to Chinese New Year for anyone to bother. Time went on and someone did suggest that we take her out for lunch, and a discussion started about where we should go. I was only half-listening, I've been involved in many of these discussions with my London workmates, and know how boring they can get. Also, since being here I often can't quite tune my ear into the place names and the conversation is often half conducted in Mandarin. So 1pm comes, my stomach is saying 'I'm hungry but please no more carbs!' and we clamber into a taxi. Ten minutes later we arrive at our destination... it can't be, no. Someone's joking! No, really this is it, we're here. Where did we go for lunch guys? You'll never guess... Ikea! Yes, the Swedish furniture shop! It seems that meatballs and salmon hollandaise are the height of trendiness in these parts, maybe the equivalent of Itsu at Brompton Cross...

So when I'm back and offer to take you for a birthday lunch, just watch out, we may be buying a kitchen on the way out.

Everything and nothing

So, ten or so days since leaving the UK, what has changed? Well, everything and nothing. I'm here in the office with a decaf soya latte from Starbucks. Earlier, I chatted to the girl at the coffee counter about the weather in London (everyone asks how cold it is... but how can you describe what four degrees and wind chill feels like to people who live so near the equator?), and then stepped out into the (warm) rain to go back the office. I'm here at my computer and as I look up I can see photos of people I know, books I've worked on, resources I've helped produce. At lunch today I ate dried chilli chicken and rice, which came with a rather nice fried egg on top... a bit of a change from Pret A Manger. I'm craving carrot sticks and houmous, and wholemeal bread with seeds in it. I'm sure I can buy all those things but it's not really the authentic Asian experience.

What'ya gonna be?

A new country offers constant scope for comparison with the familiar. Things I've accepted as 'normal' are up for questioning, and other things are just plain weird.

Every bank in Singapore seems to be running some kind of ad campaign along the lines of: 'What if your child exceeds your expectations? Plan now for a great education.' One shows a photo of heavily pregnant woman with the caption, 'Doctor? Engineer? Start saving now to release your child's potential.' Something in me revolts at the sentiment behind all of this - that people are valued because of what they do or achieve, rather than who they are. Why doesn't the ad say 'Great friend? Caring teacher? Start loving now to protect your child's mental health'? The implication is that you wouldn't be proud of producing kids who don't make it to the top of some career structure. I've heard that deaf people here are given a really raw deal - some only get primary education because there's a feeling that someone who can't hear is never going to achieve anything anyway, so it's best just get them out to work as fast as you possibly can. Maybe I've got it wrong and I'm sure (well hoping) that the ad man has more to do with this than the general sentiment, but I'm not so sure.

King Bean

If you want to be hip, be a soya bean! Everyone loves the humble bean in Asia. I love soy and I'm in Asia , so I guess that's a good thing... At home people react with a mixture of horror, disdain or annoyance when I order soya milk in a coffee shop. I'm sure they suspect I'm only doing it to be cool, or different, it's so trendy to be intolerant to something nowadays. But here, soya is so cool! Everyone loves it! Soya drinks come in cans and are proudly chilled next to the coca-cola and green tea in restaurant fridges. I must admit, I still haven't got to the stage of drinking it straight, but stranger things have happened... Downtown there's a whole shop/cafe that only sells stuff made from soya... fake ice cream, bread with soy in it, cakes, a zillion flavours of soya drinks. I can't imagine it catching on in London as most people I know wretch at the thought of the lack of animal fat in their white stuff.

Naked Truth

Can you believe it? A man got arrested here recently for walking around naked. Hmmm. Ok, a bit harsh I thought, but then it's not really great to be scaring small children is it? He might not have been very attractive either... Hang on, the story continues.... he was arrested for walking around naked where? No, you can't be serious? IN HIS OWN HOME!! Imagine. He's now been sent for psychological testing and will be fined or sent to prison for this indescretion. I'm now getting worried... it's so flipping hot here, what if I inadvertently let the towel slip as I'm stepping into my room after a shower? Eeekkk! Better buy a bath robe...

The Kindness of Strangers

I remember thinking before I came out to Singapore that for the first time in ages, possibly in my whole life, I was going to have to rely on the kindness of strangers. When you come to a country knowing not a soul there's little else to do. I can honestly say that I think it's going to be good for me. In some ways my life in London was very much set – not in stone, but in routine, and in the cold country there's always a plethora of people to call up and go out for coffee with. This Sunday I was forced to swallow my 'everyone knows me' identity and start again… I met up with a couple who are friends of friends from home, (in fact, they're famous, every time I'd mentioned Singapore their names came up.) They don't know me, nor I them, yet they were awesome! They completely looked after me and didn't seem to mind as I tagged onto their day out with an ex-pat family. In a few hours we were drinking red wine and playing mah jong on the porch in the last of the balmy evening's light. Ahhhh. The grey London sky is a million miles away.

Arrival

Well, here I am in Asia! I arrived at Changi Airport, jet lagged, hot and slightly apprehensive, to a wall of pink and white orchids and people vacuuming the already-clean carpet vigorously. Coming to a new country there’s a mixture of emotions – a constant battle between nervousness and excitement. Every new experience is evaluated again and again as I try to answer the question 'Am I going to like it here?' A few days on, rested and acclimatised I can safely say that I think I'm gonna love it… more later.

Visa

There's nothing like a trip to the Indian Embassy to increase your heart rate on a Friday morning. I've just spent the best part of four hours sitting in a crowded room with about two hundred others, all shoving and getting stressy, all for an A6 greenish sticker in a passport that will allow me to enter the Dairylea shaped country as many times as I wish for the duration of half a year. I knew it was going to be a laborious task and as such had been putting it off for days until the realisation dawned that my passport wasn't going to walk to The Strand on its own.

At one point, a man in a black beanie hat, a bomber jacket and slightly-too-tight jeans that show his fat thighs to be, err, fat, strides confidently up to the counter. I watch him suspiciously. Now, I know that he was behind me in the queue and that there were at least 300 other poor souls before us, and my calculation tells me that I'm not going to get to the counter for at least another two hours. I'm trying not to get cross when the very stressed lady behind the counter realises what he's up to and sends him to "Please sit down sir and wait your turn like everybody else! What makes you so important?" Ahhh... peace and love and harmony.

Leaving

Is it easier to leave knowing that I'm coming back?
I'm not sure...
I want to change, grow, live a new life
I'm slightly scared that I might change beyond recognition
And outgrow my old life, here.

Packing chaos

Well, here we are in January 2006! Every year I'm astounded by how shocked I get that another year has passed and we're on the cusp of another twelve months. This year feels quite different from other new years though - I'm on the verge of a huge change, moving to Asia and seeing my entire physical, social, personal and work life transform before my eyes. I'm slightly scared, but also hungry for newness. I can't wait to have a new view from my window, a different feel to the sheets on my bed, new voices to hear, food to eat. I'm gonna miss London, my incredible friends, Green & Blacks Maya Gold chocolate, Earl Grey tea and the feel of my wooly coat around my shoulders. I'm sure those things will be replaced by others though... and I'll be back before you know it!

Waste

Have you ever spent a whole lot of energy on something only to realise it was all a complete waste of time?