Terengganu kita...

I really do have to apologise to some of my regular readers for not keeping to my word. In the previous post, I had promised to write in greater detail about my trip to Jordan. However, hectic time at work plus a number of days out due to ill-health caused this blog to be stagnant for nearly two months.

I will make good on that promise, God willing... but in the mean time, here's another short post while on the road. We are in Kuala Terengganu at the moment, the main intention being to source for that beautifully woven classic textile known as the `songket samping', used by Malay men as part of the complete attire of the traditional `baju Melayu'.

My present piece of samping is more than 15 years old. Nothing wrong with it; it still looks good. Not surprising, of course, since I only wear it maybe once a year, during Hari Raya Aidilfitri. I am one of those guys who tries his best to avoid attending formal functions.

This time though, I thought that a new piece of the hand-woven fabric is about due to be added to my wardrobe... because a special occasion is coming up soon. But is it really necessary for me to drive all the way up to Terengganu just to buy the cloth? Of course not. I could have purchased songket in Johor Bahru or Kuala Lumpur, albeit at slightly higher prices. On pure economic terms, it is more costly for me to travel to the east-coast for this objective alone but having worked and lived in this state before, any small reason is good enough for me to find the time to come here.

Indeed, with this multiple objective in mind, after completing the shopping I set about to look for a person and fellow blogger whom I have admired and respected for some time through the reading of his blog entries. Pakcik Hassan of the Al-Manar blog, is a personality who I have previously only interacted with in blogosphere. He comments regularly in this blog of mine and I visit his blog quite often too, although I must admit I do not comment as much... and this is simply because I am almost always in awe of what he wrote and can't seem to think of anything better to add. Drop by his blog at the link highlighted above (or on the blogroll on the left) and you'll probably understand what I mean.

I did not announce to Pakcik Hassan that I was coming. I do not exactly know where his house is located. I do not have his telephone number. I wasn't even sure he would be at home. In my typical style of just trying my luck, I set forth.

Based on his blog postings, I remember the mention of an orphanage located not far from where he lives. I also remember him writing about his house by the sea. Googling the name of the orphanage gave me the location of Batu Rakit, somewhere north of KT town. Another search on Google maps showed me a kampung road running parallel to the coast. That must be it, I thought.

Batu Rakit is located about 20km from Kuala Terengganu but in the heavy after-office traffic, it took me more than 30 minutes to reach. I discovered the orphanage easily enough and after doubling back on the same road, I came upon a house that looks most likely to be that belonging to a distinguished gentleman.

It was very quiet on the outside. I rang the doorbell on the left pillar of the sliding gate. After a few minutes, the front door opens and a senior citizen steps out. I give my salam, `Assalamualaikum Pakcik!' which the old man promptly reply.

By the will of Allah, two strangers who crossed paths in the virtual world have now met in real life. Pakcik graciously invited me and my family into his house and what transpired afterwards was an enlightening conversation with a very kind man that I'll treasure for a long time.

To Pakcik Hassan, again I wish to apologise for dropping by on you unannounced. Thank you so much for indulging us. May the Almighty grant us the time to meet again some time...

The primary objective of the trip to Terengganu

The secondary objective also successful. Pakcik Hassan and me.

Week long travel to some places of history

We have just returned from a week long holiday trip to the middle east. I was surprised to arrive home to hazy weather. The places that we went to in Arabia were hot and dusty... but not half as bad as what South-east Asia is suffering at the moment.

There's plenty to write about and many more photos to share but I'll start with just the one. This is a picture taken at a place called Wadi Rum in south Jordan. A really spectacular desert and rocky mountain landscape. As to it's link to history, I'll give a brief write-up on that in a later post. There's still tons of unpacking to do plus sifting through the hundreds of snapshots that were taken. Hope to have that whole travel experience in a full-length blog post very soon....

A view into the sunset

The last of the brood has flown the nest

As the cycle of day and night turn into months and years, the passage of time brings us closer towards the sunset period of our lives. A sure sign of this ageing process is when our offspring grow up to be as tall or even taller than we are, ask to drive our car because they already have driving licences and no longer feel comfortable accompanying us to social events like weddings and the like. And when they enrol into college and have to live on campus, you'll soon have to adapt to the quiet life where you wouldn't have anyone left to ask to do errands any more.

Our youngest son has left home to study at UiTM in Pulau Pinang. Two weeks ago, we sent him to register for the diploma course in mechanical engineering. It was our third trip to Pulau Pinang this year.

In the blink of an eye, the missus and I are back to being a sweet couple... a sweet old couple. It doesn't feel that long ago when we were busy handling 3 energetic boys through various changes and challenges. Now that they have all grown up, perhaps it is time for us to focus on other things and think of the days to come. I was thinking of doing more travel and possibly getting involved in some social work. And catch up on reading and writing too...

Our youngest son, Imran cutting his 18th birthday cake in January this year

Scanned photo from year 2000 with the youngest man in the middle

We took the ferry from the island to the UiTM campus at Permatang Pauh

Another meeting with the Wolf

When I went to the Big Bad Wolf book sales at the Mines Convention Centre in Sri Kembangan in early March, I came out with a haul of 14 books (see story here -> Buku Lima). In the almost 3 months period since then, I have finished reading five books and am now starting on the sixth. That's an average of 2 a month, just about right I guess.

The Wolf is presently in Johor Bahru. Even though I have another 8 novels still to devour from my earlier scoop, I can't help myself from searching for more. I dropped by Danga City Mall last night to browse amongst the hundreds of stacks of publications being sold at unbelievably cheap prices. This time around, I came back with a slightly modest haul... just 9. Two are coffee-table hard covers, one non-fiction book about language, a manual on digital photography and five fiction novels. Of the fiction collection, four of the authors are my first-time reads.

I hope this reading binge won't affect blogging too much...

Now let's see how long I'll take to read through all of this

The Big Bad Wolf book sale is on at Danga City Mall in Johor Bahru until 2 June 2013.

Weekend at the betel palm island

The betel palm's correct name is actually the areca palm. In Malay it is called pokok pinang. It is often called the betel tree because the plant produces a fruit, the areca nut, that is often chewed along with the betel leaf. The betel plant is a type of vine whose leaves are thought to have medicinal properties. In Malay it is known as daun sireh.

Not many people that I know of, chew betel leaves nowadays. My late maternal grandmother was one of them. I must've been around five or six-years old when I first watched her go through the ritual of this amazing habit. She had this small brass basket that held four tiny cups with covers plus a small shear-like implement called a kacip. The kacip is used to cut the areca nut (pinang) into small strips and also to shave off some slices of gambier. She would take a clean betel leaf, dip her finger into a can containing lime-chalk (kapur), and smear the chalk onto the surface of the leaf. She then sprinkles some pinang and gambier onto the leaf, fold it up maybe three or four times before popping the thing into her mouth and start chewing happily. Sometimes tobacco is added into the mix but I'm not entirely sure. After a few minutes of blissful chewing, she would work out a glob of grossly-coloured saliva which she spits into this special container with careless ease... a remarkable woman, my late grandmother. May the Almighty bless her soul.

Anyway, this post is about our trip to the island named after the areca palm, Pulau Pinang. Apart from lending its name to an island, the pinang fruit also feature in a well-known Malay proverb, `Bagai pinang dibelah dua', a metaphor used to describe a very nice, if not perfect, match of two persons. The phrase is commonly used as a polite compliment to a newly-wed couple at their wedding ceremony.

Pinang, as a word on its own, also carries the meaning of seeking the hand of someone's daughter for marriage. And I guess this ties in nicely with the objective of our travel to Penang in the first place.

Two weeks ago, we traveled north for the engagement ceremony of our eldest son to a sweet young lass from Balik Pulau. The formal pinangan process had actually been carried out three months ago and was hinted in an earlier post here -> A taste of nasi lemuni in Pulau Pinang.

It was a very small representation from our side because both parties agreed to make it a simple and brief affair. Alhamdulillah, things went smoothly and we hope the wedding, planned for September this year, would be without any hitches as well, insyaAllah.

Tepak sireh, the traditional symbol of gift in Malay engagements and weddings

The engagement ring and tanda hantaran (folded RM notes)

A simple assortment of gifts from our side

The future mother-in-law slipping on the ring on the future daughter-in-law's finger