Meet Catriona (aka The Tail)

My word!

Today I was reminded of how I love words. I enjoy playing with them and asking questions of them. I love puns. And now I feel I want to write.

I realise that in talking, and from reading and writing, I'm often trying to understand or express experiences, or to find solutions. To make life fit words is an impossible task. It reminds me of an eye test I had when I was very young. I was asked to look through the eye pieces of some optical instrument and move the handles so the lion went into the cage. I got so far, and then the lion or the cage disappeared.

On reflection, playing with words, questioning them and trying to express feelings, thoughts and happenings, in speech or writing, is my way of making sense of life, my way of finding meaning and purpose.

Procrastination and some thoughts on my wardrobe

I have been "editing" a series of motivational newspaper articles for someone else. Despite my advanced age, and in spite of my conceit that I know so much because I've been around so long, I have learnt alot from them. I have been faced with some of my bad habits, particularly procrastination. God, How painful, How depressing, How demotivating a habit! To be brutally honest, it is more than a habit, it is a way of life.

I'm a sloppy dresser,I have no style, and most of the time I don't care what I look like. If you put me in Versace, I would look as if I were wearing a sack.

A friend has given me a lovely maroon T-shirt with an Aboringinal painting of three snakes. This morning she asked me if I had tried it on yet (It's two weeks since she gave it to me). I said, "No". Why? Well, you can divide my wardrobe into three categories:
what I wear everyday, which is usually baggy slacks and a voluminous shirt or T-shirt;
what I never wear because I hate these clothes (gifts or mistakes);
what I almost never wear, because I like them so much I don't want to spoil them.
(I've realised there is a fourth category: clothes that are too small, the remnant of brief periods of being thinner.) The maroon T-shirt is number three, I love it so much I don't want to spoil it by wearing it.

Festival of Chariots in Cape Town, 27th December 2006

I went to Sea Point to watch the parade and I was looking forward to some tasty vegetarian food, as well. My sister, Ursula, her elder daughter, Natalie, and two of my friends, Laureen and Veronica, were also there. (The food was very disappointing, and the organisation shambolic.) The attending crowd did justice to the "rainbow nation". There was a large contingent from the local Indian community, mainly Hindus, but also quite a few Muslims. There was a palette of skin tones, ranging from English tan to rich Black. And a babel of languages: local, naturalised or just visiting.

The tents and assembly area were on Beach Road, near the Sea Point Public Library. This road runs above the beach. The Chariot, yes, definitely singular, looked like an eccentric hot air balloon attached to a big, heavy cart. Because of the crowd, I couldn't see how it was moved, pushed or pulled by devotees. Definitely not motorised. Before the Chariot set off there was chanting and drumming, and, I think, some dancing. All I could see was a bald head, which kept popping above the crowd. I think this was the drummer.

Once the two idols were enthroned to the accompaniment of chanting, the Chariot began moving forward slowly. I use the word idols, for lack of a better word. To me they looked like two largish brown discs, with crude, but colourful faces. Nothing resembling a human figure, nor a lingam and yoni.

An empty library

Christmas is almost here, and the campus is sparsely populated - few people and few cars. The Library too is almost empty, not even a handful of people in my section; and a skeleton library crew. It seems unnatural - all the hush, empty seats and unpeopled terminals.

I am teaching myself how to use Picasa, an open source photo management program. [It can be downloaded from the Google web site]. I have been experimenting with the photos I took in Malaysia a year ago. Picasa will be useful in producing guides for students and presentations.

Round-up of the week

Monday was my evening shift, which means I work from 14h30-22h00. By 22h00 I wanted to flop onto a magic carpet that would whisk me off to my flat and drop me onto my bed. I got home around 22h20 and then couldn't find my flat keys. A cell phone call to my sister, who has a spare set, and I was saved from spending the night in the car. My next evening shift will be till 23h00, which is a killer. The extended opening is because of the final exams. By 22h00 I feel I need match sticks to prop open my eyelids. I don't understand why I get so tired as I normally go to bed between 23h00 and midnight.

Tuesday was Eid, the end of Ramadaan, so the Muslim students and staff had a religious holiday.

Thursday and Friday were distinguished by traffic chaos because the combi taxi drivers blocked freeways and demonstrated. They want their traffic fines scrapped and for Government to drop its taxi replacement programme. These taxis are the backbone of what passes for public transport in this country.

There were very many, very angry and very late commuters, besides furious taxi drivers and owners. There was violence and rubber bullets, and some vehicles were torched by the protesters. All this, so reminiscent of the bad old days of Apartheid.

Lectures ended yesterday. I was asked to attend the last lecture for Psychology I. I was presented with a beautiful bouquet of flowers and thanked for my hard work. I got a round of applause too.All this is a first in my long career. The coming week is swot week and the beginning of exams. Exams finish in mid-November and end of year graduation is early in December. Unlike the students, we don't go on holiday, though the Library closes at 17h00 weekdays and 12h30 on Saturdays. The Library is open 51 weeks a year.

This afternoon I'm working at the GSB Library for a colleague. Again the Library is hot.

22nd October 2006 @ 18h00 local time

I had brought some Medjul dates to nibble on at work, 5 hours is long time without sustainance. As I was eating some, I was reminded of my visit to a local Fruit & Veg City (this is a green-grocer chain). There was a long queue at the dried fruit and nut counter. People were waiting for their purchases to be weighed. From the numerous headscarves I jassumed the buyers were stocking up for the evening breaking of the fast or for Eid, the end of Ramadaan.

I bought some dried apricots, local ones. They are harder and sourer (and cheaper) than Turkish ones. I prefer their hardness and sourness. (The new season's apricots, fresh ones, should be in the shops around Christmas. Besides apples and bananas, my favourite fruits are summer's offerings, peaches, apricots and nectarines. There are peaches and nectarines in the supermarket and at the green-grocer's, but they are they have been imported, and are therefore pricey. I will have to wait a bit longer.)

Seeing people buying nuts and dried fruit, particularly dates and dried figs, reminded me of my early childhood Christmasses in England. We always had dates and dried figs then. The dates were boxed still attached to a twig. There was a little wooden fork to eat them with. They were a shiny brown, soft and sweet. I have only seen dates like this once, since I came to Africa. Next April I will have lived 50 years in Africa.

Sunday 22nd October 2006 @16h30 local time

I'm sitting in the GSB Library, my Sunday afternoon job. The sun through an upstairs window is blinding me as I try and type. The Library is quite hot, despite background noise which I assume is the air conditioning. The Library is quiet. I'm by myself downstairs, though there are some students upstairs.

As I drove to work, I could see the green slopes of Devil's Peak, but around the Cape Town side of the mountains, Lion's Head was very dry, not a blade left green.

Nearly 2 months till Christmas and Spring verging on Summer, the season of craft markets, fetes, rummage sales (and the like) is almost upon us. Posters are everywhere, no telephone pole has been spared. Craftsmen, schools and churches, every organisation that can rustle up things to sell, is planning to cash in on the tourist invasion and the gift-giving mania of Yuletide. Kickoff next Saturday.

Cape Town weather has been described as four seasons in one day. The Library in which I hang my proverbial hat from Monday to Friday has a micro-climate like that of Cape Town itself. Where I work can get very hot and sticky, I wouldn't be surprised if we had our own thunderstorm on Level 5 one day.

From LIASA Blogging Workshop

Hi, all you folks in cold and wet Cape Town. The sun is shining here (the weather forecast says a high of 30C; birds singing at the St George's Hotel. We are having a tea break right now. No sound of traffic, though the hotel is not far from the freeway.

The guesthouse is very posh. It has an en-suite bathroom with a shower and a marble bath. The bath is huge, but uncomfortable. You can't relax in it. The room is almost as big as my flat. There is a full lenghth mirror, almost floor to ceiling. Tea and coffee and a little kettle are provided. There was a small fruit basket and a chocolate next to the bed.

This morning I awoke to birds chirping and a cow mooing. There must be a small holding nearby. We had a huge breakfast, fruit juice, cereal, toast, fried egg with a chicken kebab and tomato. All washed down with coffee.

The workshop is full. People from all over the country. Everyone is enthusiastic.
Must go now.

Tropical fruits

Durian
The favourite, yet infamous, fruit of Malaysians. It has a very strong pong. Many hotels have "No Durian" signs because of the smell. (I have only tried a Durian flavoured boiled sweet. I didn't care for even that watered down version.) People will spend a great deal of money to get the perfect Durian


Rambutan
This fruit is like a red spiky litchi. I prefer it to litchis



Coconut Stall
The vendor will hack off the top and stick a straw and some ice cubes into the milk. Some people even add sugar.


Mangos
These are sweeter than SA mangoes. Sliced mangoes on ice may be served as desert

Historic Georgetown

Hawker foodstall at night

Dim Sum Breakfast

My friend, Doreen, who runs the Sukhi Hotu Bookshop on Penang, took me for a Dim Sum breakfast. Yum!!!The place was full and buzzing.

Chopstick Heaven

One can eat very cheaply at "hawker" foodstalls. There is a great variety - Chinese, Indian, Malay and Thai, for example. Nyonya food is Chinese cooking that has been influenced by Malay cooking. It is spicy hot, but this can be said of all varieties of Malaysian food. Chilli is essential - as an ingredient and as a condiment. I don't have chilli-proof tonsils so I had to be careful.

The Menu at a street eatery

Foodstalls come in permanent and temporary varieties. Some famous local dishes are on the menu.

Family Butcher, Georgetown

Penang Street Market

Penang is famous for its cuisine. It is diverse - all varieties are spicey. The photograph was taken at a morning street market in the historic part of Georgetown.

Cape Town Saturday 26th November

I have been home since Wednesday. Right now I am at my second job at the Graduate School of Business Library.

My trip home was delayed at KLIA and Johannesburg International. Most of the people on the plane were going to Buenos Aires. This included a noisy team of boxers from Argentina. At Jo'burg International a team of South African student rugby players joined the plane. Also a very noisy and boisterous bunch. On the return trip I watched a film called "The Librarian: the Quest for the Spear of Destiny". It was a spoof of the Indiana Jones films, with a geeky klutz as hero, the librarian, of course. Quite amusing.

My sister and brother-in-law met me at the airport in Cape Town. I was glad to be home as I had missed my family, friends and my cat, but I was sad to leave my Malaysian friends. BTW. My cat slept on top of me most of Wednesday night.

The weather has been hot and sunny, though this morning was overcast and a little chilly. It had rained a little. I have spent the morning paying bills.

Monday, KL

My second last day in Malaysia. I am going to see my friends, Basmin and Leslie today. I haven't coped well with the public phones and long phone numbers. I think quite a few people around KL are wondering who this ferrenghi, Celia, is, who has left a message on their voicemail. Is it a CIA plot? :-)

Yesterday while I was at the internet cafe the two young men on the next machine were watching porn sites. I was curious, but also didn't want an eyeful of synthetic sex. I am glad I didn't understand what they were saying. I found the experience very unsettling and distasteful. A contradiction in a country where women are veiled.

Today I am wearing a white blouse, not a good choice when further encounters with chopsticks are in-store. It doesn't seem right to eat Chinese food with a fork and spoon. When I was staying at the Cheong Fatt Tze Mansion in Penang they served Western style breakfasts. I felt it was kind of letting the side down. As a token of homage to the man who built the house, I could have had tea at breakfast, but I didn't.

I have tried eating a little chilli when eating Chinese dishes. A small dish of chopped chilli is served with most things. Chilli does make an important difference to the taste, but when it hits my throat, my eyes and nose run, and my mouth and throat burn almost taking my breath away.

I was walking around some food stalls last night. The man who was selling rambutan, a largish, red spiky type of litchi, was sitting back enjoying a tin of Guiness. I find it very odd that Guiness (Ribena and Milo) are so popular in a very hot country.

There is also a Chinese version of a braai (barbeque). Flat, square pieces of dried meat are cooked on a grill over a wood fire.

I travelled on the monorail again yesterday. It is fun because you can look down on the city streets. It is very cheap. The airconditioning in the carriages is fierce. Everytime I disembark my glasses steam up. There is also an LRT train system, which is like the London underground. Compared with Cape Town, public transport around the city and to some suburbs is a dream. The "Mother City" (i.e. Cape Town) Transport Dept must pay KL a visit.

Department stores and the malls were open on Sunday, "business as usual". KL is a vibrant city, partly because life encompasses the streets. This can be a nuisance in that one has to walk in the road because a food stall or business uses the pavement. People park on the pavement, just as they do in Cape Town, and the 4X4 is "the in" vehicle.

KL Sunday 20th November

I have at least met some of my KL friends, Chin Hock Soon and some of his family and Sue Kok.
Yesterday, despite pouring rain, I went to a Hakka restaurant with Chin and family. My chopstick technique has not really improved. I was wearing a dark green T-shirt, so accidents would'nt show. After breakfast on prawn soup with noodles, Chin took me to the Subang Jaya Buddhist Temple. He and others who had recently spent time in Myanmar (Burma) were showing their photos. It was fascinating. I really want to go to Bagan (or Pagan) and Manadalay. (Nobody is allowed to sing "On the road to Manadalay, where the flying fishes play..." I think you are all much too young to have heard Peter Dawson sing this.) I had another noodle soup with fishballs for lunch and some other things(but even for me, it was too much to eat).

I must sign off as my time is up.