Revival

My nose is supposed to be anywhere else but here, be it inches close to my TM script, be it flat on the ice, be it muffed by the familiar fabric on his flat chest, be it perching on the shelves of groceries store. I realise that I haven’t been letting this outlet open for quite a while and the internal pressure is stretching the walls of my lungs(well ok, a bit exaggerated). I do not have anything particularly to document about since the norm of my situation is always the challenge towards my relationship. One that i lay gently in a basket with a fluffed cushion and pull a cover over it delicately. If only I did not “awaken the romantic love” which i had no idea how treacherous it is, if only birth and race are not the veto to religion, if only the pressure is not a steep gradient from my side to your side, if we had been so shrewd to see all vices of life  ..ifs..then now we would not be like oreo and cream, when you twist and dip and bite, you would still get some of each. To unwind is to be courageous enough to snap the knot with a pair of scissors. Everytime when we managed to summon the scissors in the precinct of this mesh, we would cringe. We would feel the forecasting pain resonate through our vibes and we would pick up the remnants-sympathy, solidarity, fear of uncertainty-and sew it into a porous, shabby treaty. We harbour unending emotions for each other-the nagging, the endurance, the encouragement, the concern-yet we couldn’t go back to the point of pandemonium again where we were dogmatically led by emotions-determinant. We would not flee and tune off all voices that snap us back. We would make the rest of 2 months count though fate consumes our future path together relentlessly. But still we are walking pieces of each other, carrying a whiff of each other into the nebulous future without each other. God, we choose to obey.

il passaggio

a not perky picture to suit the not perky mood

There is a reason why my ears are suddenly so fond of ,,Viva la Vida” these days. Maybe there’s a message my psyche is telling me with the impromptu attachment towards Disney’s old movies. Perhaps there’s a teensy-weensy hint I am getting from a more powerful know-it-all up above a.k.a God that failures are not the end of the world, a comfort that comes quicker than the trial.

So there’s absolutely too excruciatingly painful to look back. The veneer of my composure that I’ve well preserved in front of all my unfriendly long nose classmates cracked today. Precisely after Technical Mechanics paper. Right down in the middle. Revealing a noisy relentless grumbling hysteric girl. In a sweet blue headband with a hairbun. How ironic.

Maybe it’s the hot weather. The deprivation of oxygen that has prepared the soft bed for the germination of my foreseen bad grades, coming out on 17th July. And on 18th July I am witnessing the sacred matrimony of a friend. What a jump in my emotion versus time graph.

So there goes. The passing of my adequate grades. No more giggling behind “peanuts” math. question and voila to the living death of all the scientist, mathematicians that contributed to all the rules in Technical Mechanics. They still haunts every mechanical engineering students, screaming all the laws and theories into the crux of their souls, causing them to tremble in their sleep and break a cold sweat in their PJs.

Once upon a morning, my little babe is delivered without even the slightest agony inflicted on me. All i remember is just the blaring door bell and a young boy, olive-skin ran up the steps with a huge cardboard box, asking for my signature. After ripping it apart, there my little babe lies, comfortably wrapped in a bundle of cardboard sheets. An elated gasp escaped my lips and the next second, i was powdering it with Kolophium and running my fingers across its smooth and sleek contour. Djing Djing Djing………..

Mama is proud of you , il mio bambino

A day at Luisenpark

Last couple of days were parents visitng day! Luckily they’re still ok with my messy room, lousy tour guiding. Strangely, they adore the food at my canteen. Hah, weird cause everyone complains about it- too salty, too sleepy after eating it, too sloppy queue, too sucky vegetarian mealset. Hehe..So the first day I brought them to the hotel (it took me sometime to locate the spot cause i did the booking online and have no idea how to get there, thanks to the unhelpful map and address..blehh). After complaining about the bad ventilation system, the Hams made it to Luisenpark where we caught this bird and Mr. Ham willed himself with much effort to keep walking without shooting it down for dinner. 

Then we sat around the wooden tables and look at all the german families picnicking with their packed bread and beer. The younger Ham went to get a beer and some sausages for the older Hams, who then later complained the Brezel is too dough-y. Haih….so hard to satisfy a Ham’s stomach, especially the older ones. There we observed and chew down the juicy sausages, watching the Gondolas.

Counting off the days that were left. Then yesterday came. Time for the Ham separation. We left things between berries eating, chocolate nibbling, kuskus and kebap biting that Mr. Ham walked through the ghetto for his hungry daughter crashing on the lazy sack. Then she took the bag of milk chocolate in the shape of teddies out of the duffel bag of Mrs. Ham, pleaded for the bag to stay and it’s done. i am left with treats..treats..and treats…but my parents are gone.

The Pilgrimage of Smell

spot the Eiffel Tower in the horizon?

I packed my bags and put on my mystic blue head band, standing on the platform and at the beginning of a journey. I thought I was embarking on a journey, seeking the familiar  mixed scent of cigarette, beer, shampoo and beard. Instead, my nose cringed up against the distinct ammonia stench in underground metro tunnels, under the floodlit bridges along the Seine- Paris, revolutionised, stashed with nobility; a haven of bourgeois and proletariats; a city of lights, of street musicians, mostly metro-barging accordionists and of saturated human breathing.

under the Eiffel

Inhale. Exhale. Let the journey begin.

Putting one foot before another, climbing up the dark spiral stairs of the 400 steps in Notre Dame and the 300 steps of the cathedral at Sacre Coeur, I smell ancient cement. Nothing else. Well, not here, sorry. 

Interior of Notre Dame.

Gyrating throught crowds and street artists in Montmarte, I peer up the glaring sun and sniff the sweaty air. Pardon, not here.

It’s a real cat!

Making a beeline for hot chocolate and millfeuille, the creamy mellow smell of sugar and cacao arroused my tastebuds that immeadiately my stomach lurged with approval and satisfaction. But sadly, not here too.

Spot the Mont Blanc and the jug of hot chocolat. lecker!

millefeuille and macarone at Fauchon.

Entree: Rabbit terrine in Wepler. Guilty.

Strolling in the wonderland of princesses and princes with their happily ever afters, those familiar tunes rekindled some childhood fantasies, I was rendered in a dreamy atmosphere. However I can’t even find it here. Not even in the castle of sleeping beauty.

i guess everyone knows this, any explanation is surplus

I thought it might be somewhere high. So I ascended the gigantic metal structure always looming in the background of the city. Up up and away, leaving the thick air behind. Unfortunately it wasn’t in the top along with the panorama of thousand of feet below.

View from middle of Eiffel.

Perhaps it is in somewhere further away retreating from the busy city. I took a ride out of town to the palace with an unbelievable garden. I walked through trees planted in lines, foundtains and statues and sucked in the air of dirt and grass. Standing in front of the Grand Canal in the private estate of the queen, stunned by the beauty and majesty of the garden, suddenly I forgot my quest of searching for the smell. I stood there long enough to take in the entire landscape and relax my eyes. Nothing else mattered at that moment.

In front of Versailles Palace

I joined in the admiring crowds in front of paintings and sculptures in museums and stood there, scrutinising every single detail-the curve, the smoothness, the strength in the brush strokes. For a moment, I was so absorbed that I’ve let the smell slip out of my mind, just the smell of old paints gushing through my nose.

my favourite sculpture by michelangelo

I continued walking, eating, not so much of talking and nursing my feet at the end of an exhausting day in my private studio in the cobble stone pathed street of Montmarte. Sitting in one of the wooden small chairs in front of the window, letting in cold refreshing night air, I was reflecting and giving thanks. Unconsciously, I was abandoning my quest.

at the Orangerie Museum

Among entrees, desserts and wine; gruesome monuments like the conciegerie and churches with beautiful stained glass windows; the resting place where the great has fallen, someone has faithfully guided me along an itinery i didn’t planned. 

The importance of the quest was slowly fading. At the end, i was left with amazement- the solo trip, all the things that i’ve undertaken, constantly safe guarded and taught with lessons each day of the trip. When I was directionless, the course of the journey was swerved into a different direction. 

The sword made for King Louis the first..or second…forgot..hehe

At the last hour I paused, checking my souvenirs, chewing my last croissant in Paris and after everything, snoozing in the train. 

At a certain point during the journey i’ve stopped searching for the smell. Somehow it turned out it isn’t that important anymore. Something else is, now. I’ve let someone up there, someone that is in me, someone that took charge led me. As the journey wraps up, sweet memories remain-in a city of its own distinct characters where a lost sheep is being led around back to the flock. An awesome spirit walk that took away a large burden and obsession in me and at the end there’s much peace and rest. 

Sheep!

I wouldn’t say it’s happily ever after but it’s certainly faithfully ever after. The End.

Nice kissing pose.

Faces and façades

I just realized that you don’t need to turn around to people to find reassurance. A lot of things or other living beings simply stand there emitting their aura, encouraging people to take one step closer. Likewise, a lot of dresses have been shouting out to me and attracting my attention. I can’t help but stop and peruse them. Nice dress. Here is one, standing there behind the window under the soft lights getting cold under the mannequin. 

And then there are animals that perform such feat that you can’t help but take out your camera and start flashing. I can’t let go of this duck that stood on one foot till I’ve got a picture of it:)

Here is a family member of James, walking back and forth in front of the gigantic artificial iceberg, probably groaning because the weather is getting warmer and its thick fur is getting irritating. James, James, time to teach your species how to exercise and shed some fat! Look James, see what this bear is doing! Bears are butt sniffers. Aha, caught in action!

They have been swimming together, sharing the same piece of food floating on the water. Their colours compliment each other and they fit into this picture nicely. No loud quackings, just quiet, serene swim, drifting along, taking time slowly, swirling around and confining their sight to each other.

Of chocolate hangover and unerwischte Fragmente

Was ich hier mache,

Warum ich mich hier drehe,

Alles geht es um dich.

 

Wovon ich träume,

Wonach ich mich sehne,

Alles ist wieder über dich.

 

Wie meine Augen gefunkelt haben,

Wo meine Füße getreten sind,

Alles hat dich im Rahmen.

 

Der Duft, der langsam verschwindet,

Die Berührung, die eine Ewigkeit fasst,

Alles gehört zu dir.

 

Unser Moment ist vorbei,

Unser Schicksal genügt,

Nur mein Gewissen lässt es nicht.

Ich möchte gerne einen frischen Anfang getoppt mit dem bekannten Duft. Dazu bitte auch eine reiche Sammlung von Erinnerungen. 

Ich hätte gerne eine empfindliche Massage geschleift mit rotem Wein. Inzwischen auch das Streichen meiner Haare.

Ich würde alles bahalten. In einer verzierten durchlässigen Glasflasche gedictet mit deinem Kuss. Zum Abschied begleitet von einer unvernachlässigen Umarmung.

 

Alles angefeuert von Scholaden.:)

The Settlement

This is the view out of the window of my room.

Below this beautiful sky and the splendid setting sun flows the river.

The water glistens and rays of sunlight penetrate the clouds. With this picture, I wanted to portray the unfriendliness and the coldness of the place even it is supposed to look warm with the light. A few days after looking out from my new room, in which I would have to spend at least 6 months in, I can only see less potential of surprises, adventures and dangers, thrilling, sweet, exciting and lurking. I find myself looking out for familiar faces or resemblances of familiar faces. Darn, I am in this phase again. New place, new people, new life, new challenges. I am just being pushed into a current and I am moving because people around are following the current and I was just being urged forward at every step.

Everytime when I felt things couldn’t get worse, they rebounded and got better. I am waiting, just like that night at the foyer, waiting for something to happen, just like the day, waiting for the sun to set. When I saw the doors open and a face from my mind emerged at the threshold, suddenly creeping out of bed was worth it:)

Lost and Found (Heilbronn and Mannheim)

Sometimes I don’t know what is ahead of me. I don’t hear it coming, I don’t smell it approaching. Even when it is right behind me, I don’t even know what it means.

A Sculpture at Landesmuseum von Technik u. Arbeit

Until…I am already carried away. Until I realize I am starting a new journey.

An old train from Landesmuseum

I found myself relishing an old fantasy, like a fairy tale every girl hopes for.

Excitement is in my veins and I am enjoying it, like nibbling on cheese, like breathing in fresh air. I am falling. I am indulging.

Everything that I am encountering is worth cherishing. Everything is so beautiful. I hope I can just keep these moments still like those in pictures.

An old newspaper kiosk

Suddenly something bright appears at a distance, the light hurts my eyes….

An old lamp post

It is time to mend my broken dream. The pain that I have to bear, the pieces I have to put together.

So I think again. What is it that is closest to my heart? Is it worth it to give up something that I have built up so long for something that I will only have for a short time?

Heilbronn City, where i’m staying for 6 weeks

It occurs to me so clearly. It is the most obvious. There is one thing left to do now. I am going back to where I come from, where I belong, to where someone is waiting for me.

S-Bahn(Tram) in Heilbronn, snowing

So, after a detour, here, I found the place I truly belong:)

Wasserturm, Mannheim City, where i will finally settle down and study

-You don’t need to be a genius to discover what is most precious to you…..-

Radolfzell

I‘ve been here for 2 weeks. And it‘s the 1st place I stay in Germany. Radolfzell is a pretty small town with everything around the neighbourhood. Like the chinese saying, a small sparrow complete with the 5 most important organs and the heart of this town is, I guess, the Bodensee, separating Germany and its neighbour Switzerland. When I first arrived, it was really hard to perceive everything. The snow looms in the landscape; German cars that I usually drooled at when I saw one flaunting itself on the streets in Malaysia are all over here; scenes from German books coming alive; the language suddenly just broke free from the 4 walls during German class; the sign € everywhere and people- no matter how they differ from each other, shorter, taller, thinner or fatter, fairer of course, everyone of them found a way to be way way different than us. One thing that I am dead sure- despite the short period since I stay in this country – is that the German way≠the Malaysian way. They dispose rubbish the different way we do it back home, their mentality is way new to us, their punctuality is beyond comprehension to most that are accustomed to the „Malaysian time“.

In Radolfzell I get to walk on my first cobble stone pavement. It is so typical europe here. Duh, I am in Europe. Big church, medieval style buildings, the chiming of clock….One of these days, I went for an outing in München and over there, the same style is even distinct. What is even more distinctive is the german food. Here is the first german culinary I tried- Schweinebraten, basically everything typical german is porky and beer-y, speaking of which, the famous german beer really deserves all the praises it can get;) I‘ve tasted it and I confirm it.:)

After about 2 weeks of the snowy sceneries, I am beginning to crave for some greenery and this is the first sighting of green in Radolfzell. This garden, just right outside the Carl Duisberg Center where I study is really beautiful. The shades of colours blended in so harmonically. In fact, you can‘t see such mixture of colours in Malaysia.

One thing that the Germans are very proud of is their cars. As BMW and Mercedes, both in München and Stuttgart respectively, show off themselves in buildings in the shapes of internal parts of a car, I‘ve got a chance to gape at their sleek and chic products. And then suddenly something Malaysian and familiar was spotted on a race car- the PETRONAS symbol and the word „Malaysia“ printed on its smooth bodice. Out of the blue, there‘s a wave of patriotism hitting me and the slogan „Malaysia Boleh“ is ringing in my ears.*big big grin*

BMW Welt in Muenchen

Daimler Mercedes Museum in Stuttgart

Sport car, formula 1

Petronas!!!

             One of the seven wonders of the world

            

                 During end of Sept my friend, Saw and I went to Cambodia together. While the rest of the people in the trip were teachers and we were among the youngest, we had lotsa fun!!!:)) Besides visiting Angkor Wat and all the other temples including the one in the Tom Raider movie, which is a must when one goes to Cambodia, what we really enjoyed is to see the people there, the language they speak, the way they bring their “tut tut” all around and of course, kids…kids that sell souvenirs, screaming “one dollar one dollar”..kids that cycle miles to school without shoes…kids that took off their clothes and jumped into the river nude…kids that posed for me and flashed their cutest smile..kids carrying a toddler in their arms begging…kids with unkempt hair and dirty shirts rolling on the floor..kids that look at a packet of tissue curiously and pulling piece by piece out. So, seeing so many expressions, every sinew and muscle squeezed into those one-of-a-kind faces, i just felt so inspired…pardon the little stalkin:)

            

              OK, over with the long long raveling intro…straight to the point. While I was there, I tried some Cambodian food…solemnly…turned out was quite appetizing….love those spices..sour, spicy…a little like Thai but less spicy, i guess..One thing about the fruits there is that they were made into dry snack(jackfruit, yam..), fried into fritters(banana) and girlled(banana). Not only that, roadside food there is quite mind-blowing…froggies..spidies…grasshoppies….yeeep…speaking of exotic taste. Saw tried one spider leg, her complaint was only the weird tasting gravy. Other than that, it was pretty “crunchy”..scary. I never had the guts to stick those down my throat.

                     Also, you can see lots of stalls selling baguettes beside the road. Since Cambodia was under French colonisation before, it was not a surprise. I’ve tasted their croissant. yummie..yummie..The feeling of those buttered layers melting on the tongue is nostalgic. Pineapples there are recommended because they are sweet and not tongue-prickling, not like those in Malaysia.

                One thing I learned about going to third world countries is not to underestimate. Some of the wealthy people there scoot around in mercedes and all sorts of big cars. I, who had my mind tuned to a miserable picture, was surprised to see some girls powder their cheeks. Never thought cosmetics are imported in Cambodia. I hereby apologize for my narrowmindedness.

On the way to Pnom Penh, I saw the most amazing human sandwich!! Trucks, cars were fully loaded with humans. I bet there wasn’t even an inch between them! Car tops and even the luggage place were full with people traveling under the intolerable heat and burning sun…

                  After this trip, my luggage was full of souvenirs and photos. Not only that, my friend and I traded passports so i (nearly) entered Malaysia under another person’s identity. It was real fun, the trip, the buffet dinners, those places, even the killing field and haunted torture place. Spooky but at least now I know, humans have inhumane side. As i post up these pictures, i can’t wait for another time when I’ll be packing again for another escapé!:)