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'.