Monday, June 21, 2010

She's Leaving Home - Monica Trapaga.

I got hooked because the cover was nice. And each page that follows was nice. The whole book was nice. To look at. Because I'm not a very fervent cook, neither am I very good at it. But I get inspired by creative and motherly cooks to be a better person. How is that so? When life gives you a lemon, you make zest out of it. That's how.

Monica Trapaga is a mother of many and an extremely big hearted cook. From her personal notes and the way she speaks of each personal recipe (now available to everyone), just shows how much love she has for people. I think she's the ultimate connection between Man and Raw Ingredients :) Her pots and pans are like magic wands that zap heartiness into each meal.

My favourite quote: There is nothing more satisfying that homemade soup. Whenever I've wanted to let a person know that I really love and care for them, I make them soup. It fortifies the soul and seeps into every nook and cranny of the body, rejuvenating, nourishing and energising with love

Okay. My mission from now on to all I love: SOUP ;)

Sunday, June 20, 2010

Where the Wild Things Are - Maurice Sendak.

I never got to watch the film because it was never shown in Malaysia. What a pity because I was really anticipating another great children story on screen. The first time I read the book was in one of those really cosy bookstores on the backlanes of Auckland. I don't know why I didn't get it. Nevertheless, fate brought us back together and this time, I bought and took it home.

Trust me, it only takes 5 minutes for you to finish the book. But another 55 to relish on the intricate techniques done on the sketches. We all want adventures, to venture into the unknown and live in an exciting surroundings. But when all that's done, we think of home and just want to be with people we love. And of course, who can resist the supper that comfort our tummies :)

High Adventure: The Story of the National Geographic Society.

Arguably, one of the most inspiring read of all times! I used to think NatGeo was for boring scientists and couch potatoes who have nothing better to watch on TV. I was so wrong.

National Geographic Society was started by a group of kindred souls who wanted to explore the world and bring these stories back to their fellow countrymen, to expand knowledge and expound popular beliefs. And every year, every decade as they trudged on to the highest point beyond earth to the lowest depth of it, the society has evolved into becoming one of the world's most authoritative journalism in geographic and scientific exploration.

This is my favourite quote from the society's first President, Gardiner Greene Hubbard: "The members of our Society will not be confined to professional geographers, but will include that large number who, like myself, desire to promote special researches by others, and to diffuse the knowledge... so that we may all know more of the world upon which we live." Yes, such was his invitation to explore. And I (like millions of other ardent followers of NatGeo) readily accepts it :)

Monday, June 7, 2010

The Melancholy Death of Oyster Boy and Other Stories - Tim Burton.

It's simple. Makes sense when it's not expected to and doesn't make sense to keep you wondering. This is the second time I read it, the first when I flicked someone else's. Well, now I have my own :)

True to Tim Burton's fashion, Oyster Boy and other stories is indeed... melancholic. It explores the dark side of childhood, only adults will hang their head in shame... because the truth portrayed in Burton's short stories, strikes a chord. At least once in their life, they must have mistreated someone just because he or she doesn't conform to what they think 'normal' is. And it breaks hearts.

Read it, borrow it.

Sunday, April 25, 2010

Insider's Kuala Lumpur - Lam Seng Fatt.

Insider’s Kuala Lumpur is one of the most enlightening, engaging and seemingly honest book I’ve ever read about the city’s history and its coming of state. Lam Seng Fatt, a veteran in journalism has managed to put together facts, which I’m sure, painstakingly to uncover our beloved capital’s both glorious and hideous past. Reading the book was a strange play of emotions. While leafing through the pages, I was proud, heartbroken, amused and frustrated at the same time.

I’ve learned about the significance of Yap Ah Loy in the founding of KL, of which, without him there will probably be no us today. I’m sorry, if the government decides to take offence since it was a Chinese who took the trouble to build the city state from its old tin mining days. I just don’t want this to end up like another case of Hang Tuah’s posthumous disputed identity. So what if he is Chinese!? Yea, Yap Ah Loy is Chinese. As in CHINA Chinese. I am Malaysian, WE are Malaysian. Admit it, thank China instead and move on! It doesn’t matter which race started the development. The more pressing issue is where do we go from here as One.

I’ve learned so much more about the coming and unfortunate going of Bukit Bintang Girls School, as well as the still-in-existence Victoria Institution. I’ve got many friends who graduated from those schools, but I bet they never knew the inside outs of their school. Did you know that VI was the first school to introduce the prefect system? First founding of Scouts in Selangor? First to introduce science classes? And the murderous drama involving the acting headmaster’s wife? Time to pick up this book.

I was amused by how Malaysians always make fun of ‘having curry rice’ in Malaysian prisons. Honestly, till today I thought that was the staple delicacy served behind bars. This misconstrued statement came from the fact that the early wardens had names of ‘Fish’, ‘Curry’ and ‘Rice’. How canny is that! So there. If ever a Malaysian tells you they serve fish curry and rice behind bars, you know better.

I’ve understood that cronyism isn’t a modern governmental habit. They probably picked up from their governing ancestor, Frank Swettenham who conveniently had relatives, close and far, to be part of his dodgy ‘extended’ investment programs while developing the city. So, now we know where the root of the problem is. Then maybe, just maybe, the certain individuals governing this country, didn’t think there was anything wrong with engaging relatives when it comes to executing certain projects. Because it was OKAY in the late 1800s, thanks to Mr. Brit.

I’m awed by Tunku Abdul Rahman’s (Malaysia’s first and highly revered Prime Minister) tenacity when it came to building the National Monument to celebrate the country’s fallen heroes whose relentless fight against communism, provided peace to the rakyat. There wasn’t any ‘national’ budget allocated for even such respected intention, instead he had to (read this) raise funds on his own. Can you believe that!? Talent contests, dance shows, you name it, they donated it. All funds collected were used to build the monument to commemorate those who fell but remembered eternally. Today? What do we have? No proof, but I’ve a knack that sometimes the budget can be misused, or worse, wasted.

I found out that we do have a local heroic criminal who think he’s Robin Hood reincarnated named Botak Chin. He was a hardcore local gangster who have had collected all the accolades to qualify him as the local mafia. I just can’t believe that he mandated a standard of code for his members – liquor OK, cigarettes OK. But no drugs (?!). Killing OK, robbing OK. But not of the poor. Instead, a percentage of his loot was actually ‘donated’ to families who were in dire need of monetary support. When he finally got caught and sentenced to death, he even offered his eyes and kidney as donation to the needy. Honestly, I’ve got strong mixed feelings towards this dude. He’s really as the book says, ‘a misguided genius’.

I pined in heartache to discover so many of our wonderful heritage buildings who once witnessed the glorious colonial days of parties and soirees, are no longer here and some, unrecognizable. I wish someone would do something to restore these historic landmarks that should not be conveniently discarded simply because it’s not according to our Malay, Chinese and Indian heritage. Whatever that made us today, if it was part of our history, it was part of us. The Portugese, the British, the Arabs, the Japanese, the communists – they are all fragments which we should preserve to remind us just how far we have come. Not simply discounted and left to rot. Someone please… do something. Sigh.

What I just shared is only a minute portion of the wonders uncovered by Lam Seng Fatt. Really, it’s time for you to get this book if you consider yourself to be a decent Klang Valley-ite. I totally understand if you know only half of Malaysian history because you either dozed off in class or skipped it altogether. I was there. But this one, I promise you is one of the most refreshing perspectives of things – old and new.

Saturday, March 6, 2010

Out of Africa - Karen Blixen.

Her name was also Isak Dinesen, the Danish baroness who lived seventeen years in solitude out of nowhere, in the middle of Africa. This 'nowhere' has a name and it was called Kenya. It recounts her life as an alien peering into the lives of native Africans in a huge coffee plantation farm, trying to adapt to a way of life that was equally alienating to her, understanding how the world of wild revolves and more importantly, navigating herself and her people out of recurring events that would have broken those without a steel-like sense of faith and practical wisdom.

Her story puts modern day feminism to shame. Because it wasn't anything about fighting for gender equality and rising to the same pedestal reigned so selfishly by Man. Yet she did so unknowingly, commanding respect from her men peers and household because she was able to 'hold the fort', straigthening household fights, judging and settling neighbourhood squabbles, dealing with death which crept in suddenly like a thick fog at night and even combating tigers. She is inspirational, strong but at the same time fragile as depicted by her dealing with an unfaithful husband and being drawn to another man. A pinch of reality that she too is mortal before she seems too god-like by her extremely capable, just and independent character, which almost seemed too perfect.

I bought and read this book when I was travelling in Kenya. So, a lot of what she said in the book were actual places which I have been to. And to tell you the truth, in Kenya with the exception of Nairobi, the places which she so vividly recounted in the 1910s, did not change much even a century after. I imagined myself living in the farm, far far away from any familiar civilization (which I did as a day trip to a village), I seriously don't know how long I could hold it out. Yea, times may be different now. But given the emotional circumstances then and now, Karen Blixen must have been an exceptionally strong woman.

Biography.