Monday, December 30, 2002

The Left Foot
Howdy from KL everyone! We left Kuching on 28th, having carefully replaced the borrowed palm Christmas tree in the courtyard garden and armed with numerous hideous gifts which we are managing to lose at various locations each time we pack.

KL is interesting but I am choking on the ciggie smoke. When I am dictator, cigarettes will cost $500 each.

Friday, December 27, 2002

The Left Foot
An evening of packing has given the apartment that horrible bare and temporary look. I am still a bit feverish but I'm determined to be better when my holiday officially starts tomorrow. After three months here, my last sleep in Kuching is imminent. There are so many things not working now that we wonder what will be still going in the morning. I'd like it to be the fridge.

It is rather weird and a little alarming to think that in two weeks I have to immerse myself in Lilydaleania again but I cannot wait to see those gals.
The Left Foot
I am leaving the office now to go on holidays at last. It's been a day of farewells and I have acquired a parcel so large that I cannot imagine how I am ever going to get it home. What a pity the DHL man had just left.
So what have I achieved? I've heard a lot of kind words today but what do I think? I think I've made a good start on moving things in the right direction and I hope the momentum won't be lost. It's been interesting, challenging, frustrating and satisfying. I've been out of my comfort zone and a member of a minority group which is a salutary experience. I am very tired and can't shake off my cold and don't think I will until I can get away from the air-con. What I need now is a holiday. Tomorrow we go to KL for a few days then to China. When I return to Lilydale I know my thoughts will be divided. I will be wondering how all the processes I have set in train are going along. I'm sure I'll be informed if everthing falls in a heap!

Wednesday, December 25, 2002

The Left Foot
Christmas Day in Kuching has been very relaxing and pleasant. In his usual way, Right Foot produced perfectly chosen, custom-made presents which we opened around the palm Christmas tree - just a teaser for our real Christmas in Melbourne on 19th January. We couldn't get through to Grumpy Girl by phone but we've sent her an email. Happy Christmas GG and Matt.

Buffet lunch at the Hilton was nice but a little strange. As well as all the traditional Western Christmas food there was a wide range of Malay and Chinese fare on offer. For most of the guests it was the usual eat and run we've become accustomed to, no lingering over coffee for this lot. Ours was the only table to order a bottle of wine. People here just don't drink.

After lunch we went up to the pool to doze in the sun and stand around in the cooling water. We stayed there for hours, catching up on five months news from Petite. Very soothing. I have another cold, the first one arrived for my birthday and the second for Christmas. I suppose it's the constant change of temperature from the tropical outdoors to the freezing air-con inside.

We're now sitting around reading all the books Petite bought over and munching cheese straws from Patterson's cake shop. Tres bon.

Tuesday, December 24, 2002

The Left Foot
We took Petite to Bako National Park and we got a much closer look at the proboscis monkeys than we did the first time we went there. That's the sort of luck that follows Petite around. The monkeys did all their stunts for us, swinging and running and chomping etc. Fantastic. We then trecked through the jungle so that we could have a swim in the South China Sea. This is when our luck ran out. Poor Right Foot was stung on the right foot by a stingray and was in agony. We struggled back through the jungle to the canteen where a bevy of wise men administered traditional Malay first aid. The pain subsided and so did my vision of spending yet another Christmas Eve in a hospital emergency ward.

We had very choppy seas on our trip back to shore and were saturated. Now we are safely back in the ET where the toaster has just died. The dryer expired yesterday and now there is not much left of the mod cons we started out with three months ago. Will the building still be standing when we leave on Saturday?

It's a very unusual Christmas Eve. No shopping for turkey in Prahran market, no last minute present wrapping and definitely no Ray Martin and Carols by Candlelight. Tonight we will dine at the Top Spot on top of a multi-storey carpark. Tomorrow lunch and a swim at the Hilton Kuching. Different.

Merry Christmas to everyone especially Grumpy Girl. X0X0X. And a virtual H o P while driving to Adelaide and back.

Monday, December 23, 2002

The Left Foot
We're just back from a meal and a couple of Tigers at our favourite riverside restaurant with Petite. It is so amazing having her here and hearing her voice from a metre away instead of on the end of the phone line. She says she's enjoyed her first day of living at Kuching pace. I wonder how she'll feel after another four days.

I have three days off work now and intend to enjoy every second. It was very satisfying teeing up those two appointments today - A and N are just what we need to turn an inward looking refuge into a customer focused library. Z was thrilled when I told her and is now really looking forward to her new job. They will be a wonderful team. I was able to talk up the salary for all three which may not please the Institute but which is good for the profession. Librarians rule!

Merry Christmas to anyone still reading this piece of self indulgence, especially to Grumpy Girl who will be celebrating in Adelaide. We will miss you GG. Have a relaxing and restorative break from all your enterprises. Happy Christmas to you.
The Left Foot
Petite is here! Beautiful, brilliant and brown as any local and much, much suaver. We met her at the airport then alas, I had to come to work. The day has started well, though. I have rung the two successful candidates for the library assistant positions and both have accepted the offer I made. We agreed on a salary somewhere between what they wanted and what SS was willing to pay so I am feeling gooooood. Now back to Problem Number 199. Someone tell me, is it really Christmas out there?

Sunday, December 22, 2002

The Right Foot:
Kuching is famed as Cat City, so you might expect its feline population to be something special. Not so, but far otherwise, Best Beloved. Taken all in all, the Kats of Kuching are as lean, mean and ill-favoured a set of moggies as you could ever not wish to encounter. Tabbies, gingers, a few black and white and tortoiseshells seem to make up the bulk of the population. Most are rakish and mean-looking, with fur in poor condition, torn ears and dingy whiskers. Almost all of the street cats you see have very short tails, or no tails at all.Some have strange knotted or kinked tails and it makes you wonder how they could ever curl them decorously over their paws as they sit surveying the world. There would be no eloquent tail tip to twitch in order to express finer nuances of feline meaning.

Kutching's kats appear to scrounge a meagre existence around the bazaars and markets, using the deep stormwater drains as a sort of cat highway to keep out of harm's way. They are usually not unfriendly although they don't court human company. We got caught in a sudden shower along the Waterfront one day and, together with a crowd of people, found refuge under the wide eaves of a hawker kiosk. While everyone looked up and out at the rolling clouds, I glanced down and there at our feet, cool as a cucumber, was a ginger cat, washing his paws to while away the time. Most buildings have a resident cat or two to help keep things in order. The State Library has a large piratical animal with a very loud meouw who strolls around amongst the diners out on the cafeteria terrace and demands chicken with menaces. Swinburne Uni campus has a very self-possessed tortie who sleeps on the sunny steps surrounding the security guard's office. We visited a longhouse village recently and I was pleased to see that the ends of each house featured a number of protruding floor boards which made perfect sunny cat perches and that the village moggies had smugly taken up residence, glancing down through half-closed eyes at the earth-bound village dogs as they wandered about.

Saturday, December 21, 2002

The Left Foot
Our last weekend in Kuching and some more or less serious Christmas shopping at last. I've never been this lax before. It was quite successful though and the Right Foot finally found some cargo pants in his size, though not his first choice of colour.

We've packed two jumbo boxes of stuff to be sent home by DHL, RM800 for 50kg of mostly faded tee-shirts. Still we can't carry it around China.

We paid our last respects to the night market hoping for a repeat of the magnificent roti we had during the fasting month but there was no sign of the roti man so instead we had mee ayam followed by steamed dumplings, followed by strange green sweets made of agar agar and coconut. Interesting.

I had a phone call from Melbourne yesterday asking me when I would be arriving home.
"11th January", said I.
"So you could be back in Kuching by 13th for the start of semester then?"
Too flabbergasted to think I stammered and stuttered something about how I couldn't be spared from Lilydale. Truth is, I've had enough and I'm ready to go home. Gotta see Grumpy Girl before she goes to Cambodia, gotta see whatever's left of the cricket, gotta catch up with "The Bill" and gotta attend a couple of social functions I've been looking forward to. I could feel myself weakening today and my mind was running on ways I could manage it but eventually my brain kicked in and I decided this time I just say no.
The Left Foot
Drama upon drama at work and no end in sight yet. Word got around that we were interviewing for an Library Assistant and all this week people have been appearing at my door clutching their resumes and expecting an interview on demand - a walk-up interview. Apparently this happens in Malaysia. My carefully constructed induction program for Z went out the window as we listened to a succession of appalling stories of under-payment and exploitation. Young people working seven days a week for RM320 per month. Outrageous. When I finally called a halt we had two stand-out candidates and were struggling to choose between them. Still undecided, I started to type up the interview report. Suddenly the other Library Assistant came into my office and handed in his resignation. Momentarily stunned, I rallied enough to congratulate him on being accepted into a Bachelor's degree course at another institution. Then of course I realised I could offer both our candidates a position. One of them is unlikely to accept the salary on offer so I spent the rest of the afternoon trying to get senior management to agree to an increase. One of the things I was asked to do when I first came here was to initiate a cultural change in the library. It was a big ask but if I can get these two appointments through, they and Z would be a brilliant team and we would be more than half way there.

Right Foot and I decided to get our hair cut so we could see out and to ensure that Petite recognises us at the airport on Monday morning. RF went to Al's in some back lane and I went to Fantastic Sam's in a slightly more salubrious part of town. I wish I'd taken the trouble to memorise the Chinese phrase for "That's enough!" before I went. A series of gestures and grimaces failed to convey the message so I wrenched the apron from around my neck and stood up. Still she came at me with the scissors, all the way to the cash register when I hastily paid 0.000005% of the cost of a haircut in Chapel Street and fled into the night.

In 58 and a half hours I will see my brown-eyed girl.

Tuesday, December 17, 2002

The Left Foot
Only five more days at work for me and I'm as busy as ever, just when I thought I'd be cruising. The resignation of the library assistant has meant another round of interviews. The security gate arrived today and the book chute. The delightful Z is spending the week with me, learning the ropes and she is everything I'd hoped. She identified all the issues in no time without any prompting from me and we are doing our best to solve them but it is HARD.

The Right Foot is too modest to tell you about his very successful presentation at Pustaka Negeri yesterday where he wowed them with his recently acquired PowerPoint skills and stunning intellect. Like me, he argued strongly for the introduction of that most revolutionary of ideas - collection codes. It won't be our fault if codes aren't soon plastered over everything.

Petite Soeur arrives next Monday to celebrate Christmas with us. Can't wait to see her and catch up with all the ad world goss. I am feeling a little apprehensive about our holiday in China because it's going to be so cold. Our hotel is in a good location so we should be able to dash over to the Forbidden City and back before we freeze. I'm looking forward to home now and will gladly swap the luxury of four toilets to choose from for a free press and a decent news service.

Sunday, December 15, 2002

The Right Foot:
It is Durian season up here. Remember back in childhood when there were "seasons" for hoops and hopscotch, yo-yos, marbles and other childhood esoterica which somehow appeared in the school yard one day, and the next, everyone was playing though the rules and techniques got passed on from one year's cohort to the next without anyone actually handing out instructions? Well, the Durian season seems a bit like that. The first indication I got that Durian madness was about to descend was several weeks ago when a single battered stall set up on a Kuching street corner, with but a single shelf featuring just a few large green spiky fruit which were attracting very few customers. I asked someone what they were, and was told they were indeed the legendary "King of Fruit" but that they were far too expensive and not at their best this early. I smelt one, knowing their rep. for vileness and thought it didnt seem too ponky. Early days!!!

Now we are right into durian mid-season. As we drove to and from Gunung Gading in our fruitless quest for the Rafflesia, we passed scores of road-side shanties, their shelves bowed down with durians and thronging with customers, otherwise and ordinarily respectable people who had driven in willy-nilly off the road in a frenzy of durian-induced madness, flung open the doors and were even now, shameless addicts that they were, busy smelling, tapping and othewise directing passionate devotions of a quite idolatrous nature to the goods on display. But the smell, that pervasive odour of necrotic flesh that is the Durian's signature scent, could now be clearly identified swirling within the cabin of our passing car, travelling at the state maximum of 90 km, windows wound up, with the airconditioning on full bore! People say that you have to eat durians on Friday night to give your system the entire weekend to work it out before returning to work on Monday and I can fully believe it. They hold durian parties here on Friday evenings, secret gatherings of like-minded addicts who are prepared to plumb the fruity depths in order to satisfy their unnatural lusts. Its only a wonder that Dr. Mahatir hasn't banned it, as he has sex between unmarried couples.

When at last we'd run the olifactory gauntlet and returned safe to the Enchanted Tower, we opened the entrance door to the lifts and out wafted the unmistakable odour! One of our neighbours has a two-durian-day habit, I'd say.
The Left Foot
Our second last weekend in Kuching and it's the time the Rafflesia comes briefly into bloom. The Rafflesia is the largest flower in the world and has a diameter of 91centremetres. We drove for a couple of hours to get to Taman Negeri Gunung Gandang with high hopes of seeing a real Rafflesia to complement all the plastic, wood and fibreglass ones we'd seen so far. The climb up the gunung (mountain) was extremely challenging for two unfit frontier librarians and we were disappointed not to find the big R at the first of the three viewing points along the way. We struggled on, both developing that shaky leg feeling that goes with low blood sugar. I hadn't perspired so much since the day Petite was born. By the time we arrived at the second viewing point and fearing cardiac arrest was imminent, I knew that the final ascent was out of the question. Right Foot drew on his vast knowledge of Australian history, comparing the actions of early explorers who survived with those who didn't, and agreed that retreat was the only option. So back down the mountain we went, seeing lots of interesting flora and fauna that we had missed on the way up when we were totally focused on the Rafflesia. So the day was not wasted and what's wrong with plastic flowers anyway?

The Right Foot has his big day tomorrow, presenting his final report to the Datu and the Board. I showed him how to use PowerPoint and he has prepared a presentation that will knock their socks off. Then he will be free and I will have my chauffeur back. That will be wonderful.

Saturday, December 14, 2002

The Left Foot
Here I am stealing a few minutes from Open Day meet and greet to post a quick blog. We have music blaring out in our usually quiet library. It is a Romany meets Irish jig version of Vivaldi - I rather like it.

Lots of Aussies in today, mainly engineers and they are the star attraction. Everyone in Kuching is into mechatronics bigtime. Having taken down all the scolding notices from the library notice board, I was left with lots of blank space so have put up some of the information about Lilydale and the Yarra Valley that Louisa and Debbie gave me. So amidst all the vigorous recruiting for Sarawak there is one little corner of the library that is promoting another campus far, far away.

I presented my review of the library yesterday and talked for over an hour. I've been here nearly three months so I figured I'd give them their money's worth. It was judged a good report although I had found a heap of problems in addition to the ones they knew about before. Now we sit back and wait for my reforms to be implemented. As Lynda would say, 'Ha!'

Thursday, December 12, 2002

The Right Foot:
Yes, I'm back - I haven't been amputated for my sins - yet! Mulu made a tremendous impression on me, not least because I have been laid up in the Enchanted Tower for the last few days getting over a case of Mulu Tummy (surely it couldn't have been caused by all that Oz red we consumed at the Swinnie nosh-up the other night???).

The caves and the park are so spectacular that writing about them seems banal and certainly, the photos we took somehow manage to compress the awesome into the incomprehensible. So I will share some tiny images of an enchanting place that have lodged in the brain: stepping out of the blatting heat of the full sun into the green dark of the jungle paths and feeling the temperature drop ten degrees; walking along these paths with no other sound but the "switter" of the occasional elephant-ear sized leaf as it fell from the canopy, 60 feet above, magnified in the stillness of the middle of the day; watching our guide act as bowman in the long boat that took us up the river - without saying a single word, he guided the helmsman with the merest crook of a finger to point out the best path through the rapids and shallows; watching a long boat set out on a trip, with a full complement of guys (who all took a pee on the dock before getting in), and noticing their dogs, all dutifully gathered at the pram prow, heads cocked over the side, tails wagging, intently watching the bow wake (Larsen would have loved to include it in a cartoon); the design of the long boats themselves - spare, elongated, elegant craft, only one or two steps removed from dugout canoes, that drew a mere 6 inches of water and seemed to glide over, rather than plough through the water; the sharp eyes and encyclopedic knowledge of our guide who could spot the best camouflaged insect from ten feet away and knew all about the trees and plants and what each was used for; the large family (in all senses) who were blithely setting out for a five day hike to climb Mt. Mulu (only 24 km away but reached by a track that was near vertical in places) - if faith and good nature counts for anything, they deserve to make it and still be talking to each other at the end; sitting out on the verandah in the warm dark evening, watching the LED fire-flies hover around the ceiling to avoid the pair of bats that flew endless figure-eights, scooping up their weight in insects; the young Chinese girl who practically ran into the spinning propellers of the tiny Dornier of Dodgy Airlines so she could get the seat immediately behind the cockpit, then watched the pilot and co-pilot intently for the whole flight - I hope she realises her dream of taking over the lefthand seat one day; on the runway prior to take-off; feeling the Dornier straining at the leash as the pilot ran the up engines on the brakes at the end of the runway prior to takeoff; gazing out over the endless vista of parsley-patch green below the plane's window, knowing that each sprig of parsley was really a meranti tree, or something in the same colourways, of enormous proportions.

Wednesday, December 11, 2002

The Left Foot
I'm frantically busy in my last couple of weeks with little time to blog. I'm writing up my recommendations for presentation on Friday, interspersed with doing staff appraisals for light relief. Now there's an unpleasant task.
A parcel of Aussies rocked up on Monday and we had a great lunch and a great dinner with lots of hard work in between. It was the first time in months I wasn't outnumbered racewise at a dining table. I don't get stared at on campus so much any more - I am now a fixture.
We have Open Day on Saturday and fortunately enough of our books have arrived to present a reasonable looking library. Everything is being decorated in black and yellow. I keep expecting Matthew Richardson to run through the streamers.
On Sunday we are hoping to get to Lundu to see the Raffellesia in bloom. This is the largest flower in the world but only blooms for a split second every now and then. It will be our last weekend before we get ready for the arrival of Petite Soeur who is spending Christmas with us. It is easy to forget about Christmas here - it's just not happening. What bliss.

Monday, December 09, 2002

The Left Foot
When we got off our Dodgy Air flight yesterday we had to find our way to the MAS airport to catch our connecting flight. About half the passengers had organised transport but those of us who hadn't were standing around wondering if it was too far to walk when the Dodgy pilot offered to drive us in his company car. So we all squeezed in while the pilot drove us to the rival carrier's terminal. Value added service indeed.
On the plane I sat next to a Muslim gentleman in full fig. He asked me where I was from so I told him I was Australian. "That's all right", he said. "Don't worry about it". Then we both opened our newspapers which were full of scathing articles about Australian politicians. Australia has been getting a lot of coverage lately, none of it favourable.
The Left Foot
Our three days at Mount Mulu National Park were brilliant. As Borneo Adventure promised we saw two million wrinkled-lip bats fly out of the cave at dusk, not in a great swoosh as we expected, but in groups of about a thousand in long wavy ribbons that wriggled up the side of the cliff then across the sky. We loved it so much on Friday night we went back on Saturday. Our guide took us through the four show caves one of which is larger than St Paul's Cathedral and has a formation which closely resembles the profile of Abraham Lincoln. We explored one unlit cave by ourselves with a torch and swam in a river flowing out of one of the caves. It was sooo Enid Blyton. Our meals were provided by a company called Jowels who popped up with picnic lunches in eskies with no ice. It was sooo salmonella.
The scenery and wildlife were both spectacular and we heard all sorts of strange noises from all directions during the night - monkeys, birds, dogs and several unidentified. We saw fire flies, glow worms, red millipedes, butterflies, bugs, lizards, geckoes, one snake and 478 species of ants. And bats. At night on our terrace they swooped over our heads to chomp up the mozzies schmoozing around the lights. We cheered like ancient Romans at a lions v Christians fixture.
One of my colleagues here told me it would get cold up there so I took my fleece. Yes folks, its true. I took my fleece to a tropical jungle where the temperature was in the thirties and the humidity running at 98%

Wednesday, December 04, 2002

The Left Foot
My user ed for academic staff went well considering the slowness of the Internet and the fact that a gale was raging outside for most of it. I was very impressed to see the recently updated home page and Infogates. Very classy.

As predicted, a man in a big chair came appeared on TV this evening and said something important. I don't know what, but I think it means I have a day off on Friday or possibly tomorrow.
We are flying to Mulu with Dodgy Air Services in a single engine plane so just in case this is my last blog, I'd like to say 'Merry Christmas' to everyone.
[12/3/2002 9:49:55 PM | left and right foot]
Test

Tuesday, December 03, 2002

The Left Foot
I've just been on Netbank to check on my financial situation (bleak). It's interesting to see the fluctuating foreign exchange rate over the last month or so. It is costing me less every time I withdraw fron the ATM at Wisma Saberkas. No wonder Dr. Mahatir dislikes us.
Tomorrow I am conducting the first of a series of electronic database searching sessions for academic staff. I advertised that I would structure the program towards the research interests of attendees. My first group fall neatly into two categories - English language teachers and engineers. I've never had this combination before - in fact it's my first user ed for engineers ever. Should be interesting.
As Ramadan draws to a close the food supply seems to be exhausted. People have stockpiled so much for the weekend's feasting that commercial food suppliers cannot meet their regular commitments. We are escaping for the long weekend to Mulu National Park where, I am told, I shall see two million bats exiting a cave at sundown. Can't wait.

Monday, December 02, 2002

The Right Foot:
I love looking at houses overseas. I can happily spend hours just walking around the neighborhood, peering at gardens, talking to cats sunning themselves on windowsills or fences, watching a gaggle of geese thread their way home through a hedge, or just admiring the decor, speculating on what it would be like to live in a house like this or that one.

Kuching has very distinctive houses. The favoured design is the good old semi-detached that Melbourne loved back in the twenties, thirties and forties. However, the local model is large, often two storey and typically built of brick and boasting a smooth white plastered finished. Each house is a mirror of the other, with a tiled car porch in front, bright blue or red roof, at least a pair of fat pillars and at least one balcony on the upper floor. The garden is often surrounded by a high metal fence and baronial gates of more- than-baroque exuberance.The windows are often curved at the top and feature small panes of glass, which makes them look like turn-of-the-century German or Dutch childrens' book illustrations. The visual effect of a street full of identical semis is rather like something out of Legoland.
The Right Foot:
The Blog God does not love me! She used to cut my eloquent entries off at the ankles and now she cuts them out completely! Boo to Blog Gods! Especially ones with the concentration span of a juvenile gnat!
The Left Foot
I have decorated our Christmas palm with tinsel, glittery balls and cling-on koalas. It looks different but it's something. Our ballot papers for last Saturday's election arrived today so I finally get the chance to exercise my rights.That is today's good news. The bad news is that I had a resignation at work today. I hope we can find a replacement quickly because we are expecting an avalanche of books needing to be processed in January.
I am keeping this blog short because the Right Foot just spent half an hour blogging and it didn't save. Here's hoping mine will post OK.
By the way, the captions on the photos are the work of Grumpy Girl.
Images from the weekend



Can you see the tiny Frontier Librarian in this photo?

who is the mysterious person with the tree growing out of her head?
What a magical, shade-producing person she is....

Sunday, December 01, 2002

The Left Foot
Today the entire Muslim population of Kuching was out shopping for Hari Raya next weekend. New clothes are a must, then they head for the supermarket and stock up on soft drink, cakes and all manner of highly coloured sweets. There will be a lot of hyperactive people on the streets next weekend. When this is over Christmas will get a look-in. We have borrowed a potted palm from the courtyard to serve as a Christmas tree. We will keep to family tradition and decorate it tomorrow, the day after Grumpy Girl's birthday. Happy Birthday, GG.

Saturday, November 30, 2002

The Left Foot
The highlight of this week occured when the delightful Z finally signed her employment offer to become the permanent Information Resources Manager. This means I shall be allowed to go home. Z is perfect for the position and I am so glad we have got her.

Today the equally delightful Helen took us to lunch at the Sarawak Club where she is a member. The club is a colonial relic from the days of the White Rajahs and has all the appropriate accoutrements. Two other colleagues joined us and the conversation and food were wonderful. The Chinese in Malaysia have a lot more fun than the Bumiputra.

Dinner tonight was at the market - lamb and vegetable roti with a curry sauce - enormous serves for RM3 (less than $1.50). It was not as stylish as lunchtime but delicious and very filling. When it comes to fast food nobody beats the Muslims.

The JKR Model Road is the Board of Works' showpiece. It's an avenue of several kilometres of perfectly maintained bitumen divided by a median strip of flowering trees, shrubs and topiary. On either side patches of upscale housing are interspersed with an amazing tropical plant which has grown up the sides and over the tops of trees so that it looks like the sort of drapery you see in amateur theatrical performances, pretending to be scenery. It is my pleasure to travel along the JKR twice daily. After rain, the blossoms fall to form a carpet of deep pink, pale pink and white upon the lush green floor. At night, with the Hari Raya decorations in Aussie green and gold lighting the way, the JKR has another sort of magic.

Language is a fascinating thing. Bahasa is sprinked with lots of borrowed words whose meaning is easy to guess - teksi, bas, motosikal, poskod, kelab, polis, restoran, biskut, kek, aiskrim, snek, komuter, notis, servis and politenik. English plurals and singulars are almost always the reverse of what we would say. So we hear hour of opening, fried noodle and oversea but equipments, linens, headgears, six pieces band and nonfictions. Educated people are all trilingual - it can make you feel such an oaf.

Now I must stop for a celebratory Tiger - there is good news from Victoria.

The Left Foot
Having topped up our account with Jaring, the local ISP, we can now blog again. Jaring went down on the same day as the gas bottle. There is always something in the apartment which has just collapsed, exploded, melted or spontaneously combusted. The air conditioners work in rotation but never in sync., the light in the bathroom works some days but on others chooses not to and all the kitchen appliances just like to keep us guessing.
I drove home frantically on Thursday to meet the gas bottle man by 6. When he hadn't turned up by 7, we had sardines on toast. Remember the fish John West rejects? I know where they go. At 7.30 there was a ring and I rushed to the door but no-one was there. It was the security intercom. I pressed all the buttons, red, green and white, afraid the gas bottle man would escape. Something worked because he appeared a few moments later and gassed us up again.

Wednesday, November 27, 2002

The Left Foot
The day started badly with three of the four air conditioners not working and the gas bottle running out. No full English breakfast this morning. But things got better when an email from Grumpy Girl assured me that her birthday present had arrived safely and she loved it. And then, amazingly, my suggestion that a liaison librarian from Hawthorn would come in handy when semester starts in January, was agreed to and J O'D is now packing her bags.
This was cause for celebration and as we couldn't cook at home anyway we went to the San Francisco Grill and ate a cow each.
Shopping at Ting & Ting's is starting to be embarassing. We traipse in twice a week, load up our trolley with intoxicating liquor and Tim Tams, smile sheepishly at the young Muslim checkout chick then slope off into the night. But it's worth it. Next stop is usually that home-away-from-home, the Hilton Kuching. This is the only place that sells edible bread. We often go there for a swim or a soof around the gift shop, and its the safest place for a toilet stop when you are shopping in town. The Right Foot says I always look pale and shaky when I exit the loo in Sarawak Plaza. Must be a result of holding my breath for five minutes.
Voting for Bracksy has not been easy. The honary consul in Kuching is a great party host but not much interested in boring stuff like elections. What election? The lot in KL eventually got their act together and faxed us an application for a postal vote but I'm afraid it's all too late. Never mind. Elections aren't won and lost by two votes are they?

Sunday, November 24, 2002

The Left Foot
Vegemite toast for breakfast this morning - oh frabjous day. Then we drove down to Damai for a swim in the South China Sea. The water is so warm and clear, the waves so middle-aged librarian friendly, and the surrounding scenery so breathtakingly beautiful that you just want to stand there, in waist deep water and gaze and gaze.
Now I have Bather Marks but the Right Foot of course has a deep tan - drat him. My arms are a bit brown though. I can tell because I have quoll spots again. This is a skin condition that only shows up when you go brown - white spots like polka dots spoiling your even tan. I remember Grumpy Girl's story of how she and Matt in Paris last northern Summer went in search (without success) of D'anti Quoll Cream, a product easily obtained in Australian pharmacies - I don't know what it's really called. If you have no idea what I am talking about I invite you to do a Google search: enter the words SUNTAN WHITE SPOTS and all shall be revealed.
This afternoon we went to the market and cruised the prepared food stalls istead of just buying our vegies. Such delights were in store for the Muslims when they were able to break their fast a few hours later. Wonderfully skilled cooks were preparing roti, barbequed camel, delectable vegetable dishes and sweets of extraordinary colours and taste. Prahran Market was never quite like this.
The shops in Kuching are so far gratifyingly low key about Christmas but this will all change, I gather, when Hari Raya is over on 7th December. The different religious and ethnic groups - Indian, Muslim, Christian and Chinese all dutifully take their turn in the limelight which means that you don't have time to become tired of any of them. The greatest joy of all is simply knowing that, as I ride the escalator in Wisma Saberkas, I am in absolutely no danger of hearing Neil Diamond singing 'Silver Bells'.

Saturday, November 23, 2002

The Left Foot
Well, there's just no predicting how these fast breaking functions will be. I was wrong about the shimmering women all frocked up in brocade. Several of them wore denim jeans, with or without veil. The Right Foot was the most dressed up man in the room. Is this a first? I think so. The food was very interesting. First, the sweets to provide the sugar hit the fasters were craving. Then they disappeared back to the prayer room while the two of us chewed stolidly on. Then they reappeared for the more nutritious fare, then disappeared again. This happened several times until we suddenly realised that they were not coming back this time and we were alone in the Medeka Palace banquet room except for the two waiters standing near the door, stareing balefully at us. Oops, time to go!
For an antisocial bloke like the Right Foot these events are mercifully short and no one expects him to dance. But I can't help wondering what our very sociable friends, Lord and Lady J would think of a meal that went for scarcely an hour when their own dinner parties average around six. They sent me a parcel for my birthday that I didn't receive until today. It was three tubes of vegemite - manna from Heaven. Thank-you dear and thoughtful friends.
Over this meal, where all those present were librarians, I managed to work the conversation around to my favourite subject these days - Collection Codes. Coming from a library system where collection codes breed like rabbits but evolve in to different animals at each campus, it is astonishing to discover that every library in the state of Sarawak is getting along quite nicely without using any collection codes whatsoever. The different coloured stickers on the spines of the books may be very informative when you are standing in front of them but, when searching the OPAC, there is no way of telling whether an item is in the reference collection, periodicals, fiction, audiovisual, counter reserve or what. One senior librarian was horrified by the idea of putting letters before a call number. 'Oh no!', she said, 'We stick to the standard, the Library of Congress standard.' So that's how it has come about - because the cataloguing in publication doesn't include collection codes, libraries don't use them. Imagine.

Thursday, November 21, 2002

The Left Foot
How do you plan for a long weekend that may or may not happen? When it all depends on the visibility or otherwise of the moon? How will I know whether to go to work or not? The lunch time group in the caf tells me I will see a man in a big chair on TV talking in Bahasa. But I already see that - I thought it was the news. If the moon can be spied by a certain person from a certain spot at a certain time on Thursday 5th December it will be a public holiday on Friday 6th. If no moon then Hari Raya will be on Saturday - no fun at all.
I brought our corporate templates with me, guessing rightly that there would be no database guides or handouts on library services. But before I could use them I had to ask our IT man, the redoubtable TT to edit them for me. Firstly, this campus is still clinging to the yellow version of the logo although the green and blue have been surrendered by their divisional users months ago. But also Sarawak campus does not use the University badge which includes a boar, a sensitive animal in this country. So I had to email TT and ask, "Could you please de-pig these templates for me?"
On my first morning early last month, one of my staff members, the elegant R arrived at my apartment to escort me to work. Unfortunately for me, she took off like a rocket and I had great trouble keeping up. She was one of those compulsive lane-changers and we ducked and weaved and dodged our way to work like OJ Simpson on that famous chase. This turned out to be the only thing that R does without her characteristic grace and poise. She moves in a languid, almost regal manner, always resplendent in brilliant Muslim dress. Her clothes are magnificent: shiny gold with black embroidery, gorgeous lime or electric blue, and a matching veil clipped on with a sparkling jewel. In six weeks she hasn't worn the same outfit twice.
On that first morning R took me to the pantry for morning tea. I watched in fascination as she mixed herself a drink composed of two spoonfuls of coffee, two of Milo and two of powdered milk topped up with boiling water. "No wonder she drives like that!", I thought. These days, half way through the fasting month, R lowers her eyes and keeps on working at morning tea time. How she must miss that caffeine fix. I wonder how she bears it.
On Saturday night we are invited to another fast breaking meal at which R will also be present. The room will be full of magnificent women gleaming and shimmering, every colour of the rainbow represented. There is no hope of competing with them - no matter what I wear I will feel under-dressed. But the menu looks a lot more promising than the charity do we went to last week. It is written in Bahasa but we can distinguish a word here and there and like all good banquets it ends with 'your choice of kopi or teh'. You can work THAT out can't you?

Wednesday, November 20, 2002

The Right Foot:
Pustaka Negeri Sarawak is the brand-new (well, two-years old) State Library for the state of Sarawak. It is built about 9 km out from the centre of Kuching, which some people think was a mistake but is most likely good forward planning, because the population centre will inevitably drift north of the CBD which in all truth is too crowded to allow for this sort of development. Pustaka is set in a somewhat elevated park which is actually an enchanting arboretum of native trees, palms and shrubs. In the centre is a huge lake with fountains and small islands dotted about which have attracted lots of dazzling white egrets. The effect, especially when it is misty as it often is at this time of the year, is rather like a Chinese painting. I think that it cant be too far off the beaten track, because I observe lots of people coming to stroll about in the park and children playing by the lake or flying kites.

Although it is a large building, Pustaka lives in harmony with its surroundings. The architects have produced a long, white two-storey building surmounted by a duck egg blue dome and roof and surrounded it with an elegant arched colonade and a regal paved forecourt leading up to the entrance. The airy entrance hall features an elegant double staircase in which stainless steel balustrades and glass steps have been fashioned to resemble a hornbill (Sarawak's most notable bird) in flight. The total effect is as graceful and effortless as a flying bird.The main reading room is lit by the dome, whose colourful tiled interior nods gracefully to the fabulous Islamic domes of antiquity. The whole atmosphere of the library is peaceful, light and serene and it is a joy to work looking out over the park and the lake and watch the thunder clouds sweep in from the South China Sea or see the sunlight bursting out over the jagged hills south of Kuching.

Monday, November 18, 2002

Sunday, November 17, 2002

The Left Foot
We're having a quiet weekend while I recover from a cold - a sort of mid-term break. We went shopping for gifts for Grumpy Girl's impending birthday. There's no Alice Euphemia, Eg et al or Fat 52 around here so it was off to Jalan Bazaar for the local version of cutting edge quirkiness. Will she be able to work out what these presents are? Maybe not. Will she be able to work out which one is from Him and which is from me? I think so but the Right Foot thinks not. Then it's off to Wisma Saberkas for the card and wrapping. Having accomplished that its on to Ngiukee, a department store with an elaborate docketing system not unlike, but much less efficient than, the one used at Ball & Welch for about a century. Shopping here is not for Type A personalities: the cash register hangs at least four times for every customer, necessitating the intervention of a supervisor who jolts it into action again by waving her ID tags purposefully at the scanner. The upside is that if you spend more than a certain amount you are entitled to your choice of a range of freebies. We always qualify and are gradually building up a fine collection of Ngiukee 40th Anniversary coffee mugs and innumerable bottles of Sos Cili. You haven't had chilli sauce until you've tried this. I hope I can get them past that super-sleuth beagle at Melbourne Airport.
From our living room window in Queen's Road I can see through gaps between buildings, trams rattling along St. Kilda Road. In Kuching we have a clear view over a picturesque golf course where the players are out from first light until dark, carrying umbrellas against the sun. Not put off by the heat they scurry away fast at the first drop of rain. From our kitchen window at home I can see a Wilson's Car Park, two neon signs - Tattersalls and Zurich, and smartly dressed office workers cutting through Queens Lane on their way to and from work. From my Kuching kitchen I can see jungle stretching to the left, right and up to the horizon, interrupted only by the large, futuristic Stadium Sarawak which seems to have descended from space and come to land lightly without rustling a leaf. It makes me wonder how Colonial Stadium would look in the middle of the Daintree.
We are finishing off our lazy weekend by going to see Harry Potter, maybe calling in afterwards to Ting & Ting where the stocks of Wolf Blass and double-coat tim tams have recently been replenished.

Thursday, November 14, 2002

The Left Foot
Three interesting meals over the last three nights. On Tuesday I mistook the washing-up detergent for cooking oil and we ate our meal speculating idly on the strange metallic taste and blaming the Leggo's sauce. Later the penny dropped. Last night was a charity do at Pustaka Negeri where the library staff and their handbags (eg. me) entertained residents of local orphanages, elderly cits homes and a home for those with intellectual disabilities. The guests were resplendent in their party clothes: a group of fifty young men from one institution were dressed in flamingo pink from top to toe. The evening consisted of three and a half hours of praying and twenty minutes of extremely rapid eating by those who had been fasting all day. In less then 20 minutes the feasting was over and the guests departed, leaving the Right Foot and me alone at a table set for 200, scooping up the last of the rice with our fingers. I had already disgraced myself once. Unable to face the raspberry cordial, I attempted to drink the water provided for hand washing, only to be stopped by someone who really did want to wash their hands. Oh dear - you can take the librarian out of Lilydale but you can't take Lilydale out of the librarian.
Today is my birthday so we celebrated at Denis', recommended by the Lonely Planet. It is essentially a tourist trap where average food costs you several zillion times more than in the places where the locals eat and where a bottle of Penfold's chardonnay sells for RM 119 (but not to us).
Thank-you for those virtual birthday cards and flowers, including the one which caused my computer to crash and especial thanks to those three souls who managed to stagger to the post office and send me a real card. You know who you are.
The Right Foot:
Me, I've always hated hot weather. I knew from about the age of 6 or 7 that I was a winter person and that, cicadas, the Camberwell baths and Christmas aside, there wasn't much going for months of Aussie heat. So I guess its poetic justice or something that I am now living in tropical Sarawak where it's either hot and dry or hot and wet and sometimes both within hours of each other!

But the other day I was walking home from work, something that I would not normally comtemplate doing if I had any choice in the matter, although it is only 25 minutes away. It was not too bad heat-wise but I could see that pretty soon there was going to be a late afternoon storm, so I didn't dawdle. Walking along the road to the Enchanted Tower - deserted, naturally - I began to feel as if I had stepped right into Giorgione's enigmatic, humid and enchanted painting "The Tempest". Not that there was any unclad lady feeding her baby or shepherd in plain view, but more because of the uncanny atmosphere - the calm before the storm. Behind me and to the side, the storm clouds were swirling up dark and theatrically menacing against a blue sky still streaked with white clouds and catching the last of the sunlight. The darkening green jungle on one side of the road and the emerald golf course on the other were completely silent and empty and the only sounds were the rustling of falling leaves amplified hugely in the hush, while the few birds that were about were making sporadic alarm calls as if to signal that it was high time they were heading for shelter.

As I got to the moat surrounding the E.T., the first warm, fat drops of rain began to fall and the "Tempest" atmosphere soon vanished completely as the landscape was hidden behind curtains of vertical rain.

Tuesday, November 12, 2002

The Left Foot
Today a lecturer asked me to design a 10-hour Information Literacy unit. Wow! Ten hours of hands on. I'm not sure if this is a librarian's dream or worst nightmare.

Driving home tonight I realised that at one intersection I encounter there are traffic lights facing in one direction but none in the intersecting street. I suppose you are meant to figure it out for yourself - when the through traffic stops it must be your turn, mustn't it? Why waste another set of lights?

Monday, November 11, 2002

The Left Foot
Yesterday we visited the Wind Cave located in the middle of the jungle and surrounded by a warm, shallow river. This was none of your wussy Jenolan, Buchan or Princess Margaret Rose Caves, equipped with lighting and guides and commentary. No, this was a deep, dark, bring your own torch and find your own way kind of cave. It was a watch out for the bats, spiders, bull ants and slippery bits cave. Very atmospheric and very interesting.
Later we went to dinner with our new friend and her husband and children. I've rarely been invited into a home overseas and it's fascinating to see. Taking off your shoes is so universal in Malaysia that even in your own home it feels uncouth to have them on.

One of Charles Dickens' books features the Circumlocation Office where the bureaucracy is so complex that no action is ever taken on anything. Dickens would be interested to hear that the Office is now a multinational organisation but holding fast to its original credo.

A couple of the lecturers who have to teach the new Australian courses next year have come to me for help in interpreting the subject outlines. The first one was a marketing lecturer. No problems there - this stuff is etched on my brain. But the second one was an engineer. I tried to look wise as we discussed mechatronics, robotics and trusses and stresses and Gawd knows what. Where were you when I needed you, F. O'D?

Thursday, November 07, 2002

The Left Foot
The caf in the Kompleks Negeri where I work is like a food court with competing vendors offering a variety of very cheap, good food. I was impressed and tried them all. But then the ministries sharing the building moved out, leaving only the cheapskate students and academics to cater for. Two of the food merchants promptly folded their tents and moved out. Then Ramadan arrived, half the clientele stopped eating and another vendor closed shop. We took to our cars and went to JoJo instead. Five of us at a cost of RM 33 ($16). On the second day of Ramadan I wandered disconsolately over to the caf, not expecting much. But some enterprising soul had spotted a gap in the market and arrived with bain-maries full of wonderful fresh food. Excited cheers from the many Chinese and two Australians. Today was even better. The people cooking and serving this delicious food are all Muslims and not allowed even a sip of water yet they show no signs of a struggle against temptation. I guess all hell breaks loose when the sun goes down.

Here is a challenge for all you roster wizzes out there. During the fasting month the Muslims are entitled to go home at 5.00, leaving me with exactly two bodies to cover all the nightshifts. I await your suggestions.

Wednesday, November 06, 2002

The Left Foot
The rainy season is upon us and I am fighting down my fear of the elements. With the first alarming fork of jagged lightening every afternoon I have to resist the urge to run out of the library and away home before the weather gets worse. Thick black clouds hover menacingly overhead, chasing me along Jalan Simpang Tiga. The traffic slows, accidents abound and no RACV to call. With a multi-lane roundabout every few metres drivers are constantly in merging mode. I long for a straight stretch like High Street Road despite its venomous speed cameras and the horrors of the Glen Iris level crossing. I dare not relax or put on the radio. Instead I grip the steering wheel grimly, with steely determination not to get lost and not to have a bingle but mainly to get home before I have to figure out how to turn on the back window wipers. Later, the Right Foot tells me there are no back window wipers.

We are nearly at the half way mark of our stay here and I am expecting a frantic rush to the finish line to achieve what I hope to. As well as the management role, I am doing a lot of liaison work as well. The tried and true technique of 'lurk and leap' works just as well here. You waylay people in corridors on route to the loo, or over lunch in the student caf or in the car park first thing in the morning. Much better than scamming them all with emails they won't read.

Tonight I discovered that Ting & Ting does sell vaseline. Still no vegemite though.

Monday, November 04, 2002

Images from the weekend






Sunday, November 03, 2002

After four solid weeks living and working in the Enchanted Tower, I thought I knew it all pretty well - our floor of it that is. Three bedrooms, three bathrooms, large lounge, kitchen with all mod. cons. (except hot water!? oh, well, that's why God invented plastic buckets, I guess). The laundry lives off the kitchen on a large open landing. The huge A/C units block off the landing balcony and spew hot air back into the landing which certainly dries the clothes quicker than a hot north wind day in Melbourne. Off the landing is a small room with no external window and yet another bathroom (with only cold water, too). Ever since we moved in, I thought (when I gave the matter any thought at all) that these were respectively: a utility room/junk room and a bathroom for those who were so putrid that they couldn't even make it to the closet facility.

Then the other day it dawned on me as I scanned the employment section of the Borneo Telegraph. They are in fact the maid's room and bathroom. The paper carries several ads. for Indonesian maids and putting two and two together, I figured that the future inhabitants of the Enchanted Tower might just be the sort who might need a maid.

For some reason, the thought absolutely freaks me out. I cannot let go of it. The place is large enough sure for two people but not so huge that you'd absolutely have to have a third person there all the time to cook, clean up and make themselves generally useful 24/7 as the Americans say. What a definition of hell! You couldn't be yourself, say what you liked, act how you liked, take off your clothes if you liked. There'd be someone there in the background all the time. Moreover, while you relaxed in air conditioned comfort, the maid would be sweltering out the back in her airless, lightless little cubby-hole. There is little enough to do here in any case and if you did not have a car, things are really desperate - shops are too far away and it is the End of the Line in any culture, however elegant the building and surroundings. You might be able to drive away but the poor bloody maid would be stuck up there for good!
The Left Foot
Another brilliant weekend in the city of the cat.
Topspot is an eclectric gathering of eateries on top of a multi-storey carpark. They give you a plate and a pair of tongs. You select from a huge range of seafood, meats and vegetables, they cast their eye over it and calculate a price. You decide how you would like it cooked - stir fried or in broth. Then you settle back in the balmy evening air with a Tiger and your custom-designed dinner and watch the passing parade. Absolutely magical.

I enjoy my weekly trips to the supermarket. Will we go Halal or Chinese? The selection of Aussie-friendly products varies so it depends what you're out of. But dropping by Ting & Ting for some hooch has now become a must.
I bought some three-quarter length pants in Giordano and guess what? They really ARE three quarter length!

Saturday afternoon we swam in the pool at the Hilton with tourists and a few ex-pats. I like to think I am sort of an ex-pat too - It sounds so glamorous. Backstroking down the pool, surrounded by small brown bodies and gazing at palm trees overhead instead of the usual flags at Melbourne Aquatic Centre was something to remember. We got chatting with an Australian woman, married to a Vietnamese engineer but living in Kuching. It was fascinating to hear the tales of her transcultural life. She invited us to catch up for a meal next weekend. So now we have a friend.

We bought a piece of New Zealand steak, exchanged our usual sos chilli for sos black bean and had our first red meat for four weeks. That gave us the energy to tackle the Cultural Village today. Sarawak's major tourist attraction took several hours to explore. It is a beautifully re-created village where each home represents a different ethnic group. The surrounding scenery is stunningly beautiful - extravagant, rich and abundant.

Tomorrow is Deepavali, the Indian festival and Ramadan starts on Tuesday. Fasting begins at the first sighting of the moon from any one of 26 designated locations. I won't be looking up.

On Tuesday, while all of you are at the races or having a barbie in the back garden, I will be interviewing for my permanent replacement. Wish me luck.

Thursday, October 31, 2002

The Right Foot:
Four weeks of driving in Kuching has opened my eyes to a whole new world of movement, the Chi (or is it the Tao?) of Automobile Driving. Unlike New York, Tokyo or London, driving here is not a constant heart-in-the-mouth or near-death experience - far from it, as the traffic moves with a languid pace that is quite soothing, but one has to mentally prepare for it, perhaps with some yoga and meditation to get the mind into the proper frame before tackling Kuching's mean Jalans.

The rush-hour traffic performs a sort of elegant ballet as it flows round and round the many roundabouts the road designers have thoughtfully provided. The corps-de-ballet are the unnumerable motorcycles that weave effortlessly all about the cars and behave as if they are immune from danger. It is unnerving to look left at a stop sign and see a father and mother (with crash helmets) and their entire genetic future (without crash helmets) perched between them, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, all revving up and waiting to duck in front of your car as soon as there is a gap in the traffic. They seem to have a touching sort of belief that you will see them and not floor the accelerator as soon as you see the gap, or that if you should be a tad quick off the mark, that (Inshallah) you will miss them as they have thoughtfully left at least 6 inches of space between them and you.

Even more scary is the near-univeral practice of motorcyclists to save their light bulbs when travelling by night along the road less travelled. By switching off their lights as they zot along in the dark they prolong the life of these pesky things no end. Local belief has it that it is a trick best performed by riders wearing very dark clothes. Because most jalans do not have breaks in the median strip, motorcyclists sensibly have taken to driving along on the wrong side of the road in order to get to the turn-off to their side streets far quicker than riding along to the next roundabout, thereby risking exposing their tin-lids to some serious danger.

All cars built in Malaysia have turn indicator stalks and mirrors - at least I assume they do, as ours does - but the use of these devices has not been thoroughly taught or at least is imperfectly understood as yet, so drivers will change lanes having first broadcast their desire to do so by a process of mental telepathy or thought projection to the surrounding traffic. It is not uncommon to be driving along in your own lane only to find that the guy on your immediate left is clearly moving across to your lane, not just when you are safely past him but actually as you drive alongside him! Always expect the unexpected and you will not go far wrong seems to be the best way of handling this situation. It is also, by the way, very very bad form to toot, flash your lights or show any sign that you are sore let and hindered by this graceful maneouver.

One thing I hope to master before we leave is the universal hand signal, usually given by a passenger, which consists of a languid arm hanging out the window with the hand (usually with a ciggie between the fingers) performing a slow back-and-forth movement. This means "I, the driver of the car in the extreme right-hand (left-hand) lane, am now about to drive slowly but purposefully diagonally across all lanes of traffic and take up my rightful place in the extreme left-hand (right-hand) lane, and you, the driver or drivers (as the case may be) behind me, will kindly slow down and wait while I do this thing which I mean to do, just about NOW". It is a truly powerful hand signal and confers complete immunity from collision.

This is a land where everybody has strong beliefs and is not afraid to advertise their faith by festooning their car windows and windshields with stickers, religious texts and strings of religious medals, while the dashboard and rear parcel shelves sag under the weight of statues. The faithful have developed the ability to drive by faith alone, possibly because the third eye can see clearly through all these incrustations. There is also a very popular religion which flourishes here in which the principal deity seems to be Pooh Bear. You are only recognised as being a true devotee and therefore gain merit in this world if your rear windscreen is completely covered by images of the Blessed Bear. I have also observed many devotees of the previously unknown cult of the Failed Spiderman. The cars of these believers all have a shrine in which a large idol or image of the colourful red and blue god is shown in his characteristic pose, slumped down on the rear parcel shelf, his arm and leg suckers no longer able to sustain his weight. Very touching.

Wednesday, October 30, 2002

The Left Foot
There is no vegemite left. At all. Not one skerrick.
Images from Kuching.











Tuesday, October 29, 2002

The Right Foot:
Four weeks into our stay in Sarawak, I can really feel something of what our ancestors felt as they left Old England (or Old Ireland or Old Just-about-anywhere) and ended up, thousands of miles away from their homes and friends, almost certain that they would never see them again. Working away here in the Enchanted Tower (still not gainfully employed: the process of getting a visa changed in Malaysia is apparently a leetle slow, but as the penalty for working without the proper documentation is 2 strokes of the rotan, I am happy to let things take their course) I sometimes feel totally cut off. Checking the mail box has become a part of the daily ritual (thanks for the letters, Big Brother - I think I can almost recite them by heart now) but the laptop and the Internet are a real life-line. I check for e-mails at least 3 times a day (you have to ration it out when you are paying as you go) and find that I am even happy to get junk mail! But being able to read the Age, check library catalogues, talk to (well, at) the bank, play with digital photos, play pirate VCDs etc not only helps to break the tedium of thesis editing, but makes you feel that today's world is a smaller (if somewhat more dangerous) place after all.

Monday, October 28, 2002

The Left Foot
The Wolf Blass was most acceptable so today we went back to Ting & Ting to buy the other five bottles. We've bought ourselves a wok and we're cooking up exciting little meals full of unidentifiable ingredients. We had one vegetable with a bulb at one end and feathery fronds at the other and didn't know which was the business end. So we ate the whole thing.

Yesterday we went to Matang Wildlife Park where they rehabilitate orang utans formerly kept as pets and return them to the wild. It was rather sad to see these transitional creatures pathetically playing to the gallery while the staff studiously ignored them. Another wonderful walk through a national park though, everything so lush, green and larger than life.

Today I had to give a progress report to the Senior Management Team. Expecting the Datu to be present I frocked up in jacket and hose (ugh!) but the Datu was called to a sudden meeting on terrorism so never got to see the trouble I'd taken. The report went well and I realised that I actually had done a good bit in three weeks. But it's got me worried about the terrorism.

Sunday, October 27, 2002

The Right Foot:
Shopping for almost anything in another country is always a journey of discovery. The only thing you don't normally do is shop for food if you are just passing through, though you might just pop into the local supermarket to get some sun cream or whatever and take time to have a good sticky at the shelves en passant. But living overseas is a whole different matter. Though Kuching is not overly-well served by supermarkets or corner stores in the western sense, the ones we have found have all the usual western brands if you need comfort food.

But why go to the supermarket when you can shop at the Kuching markets? They are something else again! Sarawakians loooove their tucker and you are spoilt for choice everywhere you turn. You could quite happily live off the produce on offer at the many road-side stalls with their home-grown produce but how could you miss the market at Jalan Bazaar? It looks llike a proper market should look. Vibrant, alternately too dark or too light, crowded, smelly, intense and utterly fascinating. For a start it is open every day from before dawn to late at night. You can walk (well, actually edge) your way through the narrow isles and just feast your eyes on a cornucopia of fresh veggies and fruit. BM or Cantonese are the lingua franca depending on which end of the market you start at, but everyone is quite happily to explain what this or that might be and the message gets through. Which is handy, because there is so much that is totally new to us. However, we have been dicing and chopping our way through some very fine vegetables on spec. and the resultant stir-fries have been excellent. The familiar fruits and vegetables are usually much smaller than those in Oz but their flavour is much more intense. Walking around asking lots of questions makes you feel like a kid again as everyone offers you a taste to see if you like it, just like they did when you went shopping with your mum!

Next to the fruit and vegetables is the fish market which is strictly for the heroic shopper! What I need before I plunge in there is a recipe book offering tips like 50 Winning Ways with Jellyfish. The poultry market tends to be like that too, for sometimes it seems that all that is on offer is the very live, very feathery variety!

Across the street is the dry goods market, a long row of narrow shop houses, each spilling itsr wares out onto the pavement. Bags and bags full of rice, beans, lentils of all colours of the rainbow, noodles, dumplings, dried fish, dried medicines and those tiny, colourful but lethal chillies. Deepavali is coming up soon, so the Indian shops are full of spices and mounds of coloured curry pastes. Everyone seems to have sweetmeats on display that add colour to the scene. Here and there there are shops selling bolts of peacock-coloured cloth or more prosaically, dodgy knock-off designer-label jeans and T-shirts with logos like "Teen In In Club world wear". To small yet for such glamour threads, the small kids hang around the sugar cane stall to buy a small plastic bag full of fresh sugar cane juice, which they sip through a straw as they walk around. If you want quick service, don't think about doing your marketing around 12 to 2 as just about everyone is getting stuck into the serious business of lunch.

Well, must finish this - dinner is ready and no Kuchinger ever neglects this!

Saturday, October 26, 2002

The Left Foot
Today we found a supermarket that sold Wolf Blass chardonnay at only RM 27 so it is chilling in our fridge at this moment. We haven't had wine since we dined with the Australian consul on our second day here. The same supermaket sold Tim Tams, Werther's and Tasmanian milk so we bought them all. No vegemite anywhere - even a Google search failed to reveal any vegemite outlets in this city.

The Sugarbun Warriors don't scare me. They stand benignly behind the counter in their neat uniforms, doling out egg banjoes served with rice rather than fries, looking anything but warlike. They thank us for our wonderful support and loyalty and invite us to join Friends of Sugarbun. Membership will entitle us to buy, at drastically reduced rates, 30 kg bags of rice as often as we need to. We also receive a copy of "Hand-in-hand" so we can read all about the marketing activities of various Warriors around the country. Sugarbun is truly the worthy winner of the Chief Minister's Award for 2002.

This is the "City of the Cat" and has the world's first and largest cat museum. Exhibits range from the interesting if macabre mummified Egyptian cat to cute and cloying chocolate-box ornaments. Around the city are numerous cat statues which we have been photographing assiduously from every angle. The real cats are lean and mean and dangerous to touch.

Great excitement at work yesterday when an international courier arrived with a parcel for me containing some highly-prized catalogues from Raeco and S & M. Oh, such stationeries! Such dump trolley! Such display stand! No longer do I dwell in a sensory deprivation unit thanks to my esteemed colleague, Rhonda. The gals also included some photos of themselves cavorting in the Ref office and workroom. Wonderful to see them all and know I'm not forgotten but after closing the last one I was left feeling as you do in hospital when all your visitors go home.

Wednesday, October 23, 2002

The Left Foot
Now that The Right Foot had found himself a job I have lost my navigator / chauffeur and have to drive home toute seule, alert for every landmark. First that jungly trio: Jalan Lowlands, Jalan Midlands, Jalan Uplands; next the wismas: Saberkas, Satok and Kim Lim Soon. Awas! Do not run into that bas sekolah or those motor cyclists riding four abreast. The three-lane roundabouts require concentration and no-one uses their indicator. It's OK to turn left against the red light - have to break THAT habit when I get home. Do I need petrol? Self-service only a month old here and there are lots of helpers to help me help myself. Duck into Wisma Saberkas to pick up my photos (there's a gorgeous one of Mere 'n' Matt taken back in August). Drivers are very patient in this car park. You're given a plastic disk as you drive in but no time or date is stamped on it. How will they know how much to charge me? But there IS no charge when I hand back the ticket. If parking is free why do I need the disk at all? Then it dawns on me - this is the only way they can tell when the carpark is full.

Heart flutters subside as I drive triumphantly along Jalan Stadium - the last leg. I find The Right Foot waiting for me at the gate.

Tuesday, October 22, 2002

The Right Foot:
Sitting in an interview in the beautiful State Library, on a misty morning overlooking a peaceful lake haunted by dazzling white egrets, the craziness of today's world is suddenly brought home to me. I mention that I will have to upgrade my visa so that I can undertake a 6 week project and that it will probably help my case if I have a letter from the Library to that effect, and the conversation moves on to border security in general and the post-Bali situation in particular. Several of the librarians are planning to visit Australia early in the new year and were surprised when their Australian contacts e-mailed suggesting it might facilitate their visa application if they have supporting letters from the Australian libraries they plan to tour. I recall with a start that the Internet is thick with relayed warning messages to Australians originating from Foreign Affairs and the effect that they have had on our friends and colleagues. What's going on? Has Little Johnnie given the signal to raise the draw-bridge, boil up some oil and sound the tocsin? Has "Fishnet" Downer suddenly decided that Malaysia has declared on the side of the Evil Axis? Is there An Election in the air?

Monday, October 21, 2002

The Left Foot
We hang around the teh tarik (pulled tea) stall for the theatricality of its preparation. Drinking it would not be possible. Made from tea, powdered milk and sweetened condensed milk, with added sugar if you like, it froths up like cappucino or a badly poured VB. But no expensive, sophisticated machinery is involved. The effect is achieved by throwing the tea from a mug to a cup with arms stretched as far from each other as possible and adopting the insouciant air of a Lygon Street sophisticate.

Of all the jalans, Simpang Tiga is my favourite. Jalan Astana has a nice ring to it and Jalans Green and Rock are easy to remember but Jalan Simpang Tiga comes so trippingly off the tongue that I hope for opportunities to say it.

We went to the cinema on Saturday night to see 'Road to perdition'. Not bad if you like that kind of thing. We could simultaneously hear the soundtrack of Jackie Chan in the next cinema but the interesting thing was trying to avoid reading the sub-titles. After so many foreign films down at the Europa, it seemed more natural to read the dialogue than listen to it.

There is a certain kind of person on this planet, identifiable by the same curious indiosyncracies irrespective of race, nationality or creed. They are called Technical Services Librarians.

Sunday, October 20, 2002

The Left Foot
Awe-inspiring visit to Bako national park today, up close to Proboscis and Macaque monkeys. Whispering to each other and to other tourists as if we were in a David Attenborough special for the BBC. To and fro this island national park we had an exhilarating ride across the South China Sea. Spectacular scenery on all sides reminiscent of Halong Bay in Vietnam but without the soul-piercing cold. Instead a warm, mellow, expansive breeze that mad you open up instead of hunkering down like wind usually does.
So many new sights to distract and yet, all the time there is a lead weight in the pit of my stomach like exam nerves. It is a new form of Bali Belly - a partially repressed but always present sense of loss and grief and anger.

One thing that is really weird about living in Asia is that so many people are at eye level with me. My height of 155 cms is about average for women and even many men are smaller than me. This is a very strange sensation and I feel like my body has reoriented itself in space, rather like the feeling you get when pregnancy changes your centre of gravity.

My favourite things to eat are small, flavoursome bananas that grow on a spiky tiara like Maggie Simpson's hair. They are impossible to buy in small quantities, and with my banana eating daughter many kilometres away, the challenge is to eat more than I have to throw out.

The Right Foot hasn't lost his impressive navigational skills or flair for finding a parking spot, although he did get a parking ticket the other day which cost him the equivalent of 25 Australian cents. They need Stonnington City Council over here to show them how to make money from the fractionally late.

Friday, October 18, 2002

The Left Foot:
Two weeks in to our new life and I've finally found time to post to the blog. The first week - new country, new home, new job - what other excuse do I need? Then last Saturday terrorism struck in Bali and I haven't had the heart. It's not a good time to be away from home - you just want to be with people who understand.

So what do you miss when you commit to a longish stint overseas in a place you didn't know existed a few months back? Well, Grumpy Girl and Petite Soeur of course but what else? Wine, a crisp dry Chardonnay or two with your dinner every night. You can get wine here - inferior sweetish Californian at inflated prices but no-one ever offers you wine if they invite you to dinner. Always lots of yummy food but flat Fanta to wash it down. What else? SBS news with the redoubtable Lee Ling Ching, "The Bill", the carolling of Magpies (actually, any birdsong would do) and the company of the gals in the ref office (it's lonely being a manager).

What do you get instead? Lot's of surprises like finding that although I'm living on the Equator I've been cold far oftener than I've been hot. Everything is air-conditioned to death and my office is freezing. Other surprises like wonderfully obliging people. One night we parked too long outside the Tourist Information Office and came back to find our car behind a padlocked barricade. While the Right Foot cussed and I calculated the cost of a night in the Hilton, we noticed a police station nearby. Polis set off to find a security guard but none were around. Then I noticed a note under the windscreen, written in Bahasa Malay. The polis could read it of course and it turned out that the guard had left the padlock slightly ajar and the note was basically asking us to please lock the gate on our way out!
The Right Foot:
You know you're getting to be part of the local scene when you get your first parking ticket. Four minutes late and the Brown Bombers struck! So how and where do you pay the fine (a whole 53 sen!) A few phone calls later and today I rocked up to an imposing-looking Wisma complete with guard by the door and held out my small pile of copper coins and the ticket. Oh no, they said. You cant pay here! You must go to the parking lot kiosk and pay there! It is impossible for us to take your shrapnel - here, we only deal in the Big Stuff when your fine is overdue (10 ringket). So out into the gathering morning fug and trudge off in search of a kiosk, any kiosk. Still, the walk along the shops is always interesting and you see heaps that you miss going by car. Eventually, success! It was worth it all to experience the way that people here give you your receipts or change - they use both hands and make this prosiac action look like an offering or something.

Meanwhile, back in the Enchanted Tower, things are getting so desperate that even the junk mail is beginning to look good!

Thursday, October 17, 2002

The Right Foot:
After so many weeks of planning and dreaming about living and working overseas, the reality is setting in. We have been in Kuching, Sarawak for exactly two weeks. Well, actually only the Left Foot is working and I am sitting here, typing away in the Enchanted Tower, a multistorey condo a la Gold Coast, set in the middle of jungle one side and a couth golf course on the other. There is a splendid lake and lots of holes in the ground filled with water and surrounded by luxuriant weed growth. This is because the rest of the resort has not yet happened but the model shows that it will be a Thing of Great Beauty. It is actually quite spooky living in a place designed for hundreds of people and there are only a handful, most of whom you dont see from one week to the next. I was feeling quite isolated until I worked out how to get onto the Internet. I can appreciate how the first settlers to a new country must have felt in years gone by as they sent off letters that might take years to arrive and pounced on and eagerly discussed news that was years old! Good old technology! I can even get the latest office jokes.

Monday, September 30, 2002

This is the initial posting to the Frontier librarian weblog.
Material of a much higher calibre will follow.