Saturday, October 31, 2009
I was fooled by the name of the channel. All afternoon it was showing how different people shoot different bucks, either with a bow or with a gun. Boring. The rig crew enjoyed it though. That's the life of a redneck/coon ass, drinking beer, shooting ducks/bucks, and fishing, period.
Funny things I heard over the PA system of the rig:
"Pick up, pork chop, pork chop in the galley." - yeah, he's known as pork chop, I don't know his real name. Galley is the place where we eat, the "cafeteria" of a rig.
"How 'bout cha, freak, freak, line 2!" - His name is Frank, the crane operator.
"Talk to me, desperado, desperado on 1!" - Again another nickname, his last name is Silverado, which I think is another nickname of his real last name. Nickname of another nickname, pretty cool aye.
Those are the conventions of asking people to pick up the phone.
You should never use this, or you'll be called fag, or get kicked out of the rig.
"Could anyone have Mr. Pork Chop to call the driller on line 1?"
One time I heard a guy with no teeth trying to reach the crane operator. He shouted, "How 'bout cha, cwane opewator, cwane opewator on line thwee!" LMAO.
The sea was really rough this evening, so the driller announced, "Come on lil' indians, lil' indians to the rig floor." - Those indians are his crew (roughnecks).
Another day on the rig...
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
I was home recently, just in time for Chinese New Year. As usual, my dad, mum and brother picked me up from
Changi. We stopped by
Ah-Koon’s for its famous thick, traditionally brewed coffee, and “charcoal” toasted bread (a culinary art lost with the creation of technologically advanced toasters), topped with butter and
kaya, “Those taste and smell…” I thought to myself, I was home.
One could always notice the difference between the 2 countries by crossing the causeway into Malaysia – organized and clean on the Island,
not-so organized and
not-so clean on the Peninsular. Yet both countries are identical twins born from the British Empire. I loved the drive that day. In the 2-hour drive home, we passed by endless oil palm plantations, roadside fruit/food vendors, shop houses with moldy walls, new housing projects, more housing projects and endless housing projects. After an hour and a half, I pulled the car into the lush green street where I grew up, only to be startled by a bolting bike out of nowhere on my left. “干你老母臭鸡白, overtaking from the left even with my left turn signal on!” I cussed viciously in
Hokkien. Unmistakably, I was home.
As I was mesmerizing in my steamy afternoon nap on the refreshingly cool marble floor after a lovely home cooked lunch, from a distance I heard, “Old newspaper! 收旧报纸!
Beli surat khabar lama!” (Repeated twice – Mandarin,
Hokkien or Cantonese depending on the region)
The way it was announced was like a rap song, Malaysian-Chinese style. Even though those 3 languages do not rhyme, but the announcer made it rhyme by making 4 distinct syllable:
Ol-news-pa-per! 收-旧-报-纸-!
Blee-Srat-Khbar-Lma! If you know how to read music, the tune can be actually written in E-E-E-E, C-B-D-D, E—E—E—E—E—. Notice how the last part was dragged out a little bit more to accomodate two syllables of each word into one,
uncle newspaper Copyrighted, ‘S’ and ‘E’ sign across the skinny yellow chest, blackened dentures like grills filling the wide friendly smile, South-East side ma Chingga!
“
Sern! Come help me bring these old papers to the
uncle newspaper,” yelled mum from the kitchen as she too heard the old-newspaper-collector lorry.
“Ask him if he wants any glass bottle and cardboard as well.”
In the era of global warming and being Green, Malaysians are doing their part in recycling, Malaysian style. 1 kilogram of newspaper would fetch around RM0.10 (it peaked out at RM0.50 at one point when I was 10 years old due to excessive demand). I had no clue about the shrinking supply and growing demand 16 years ago, but it was a knowledgeable way of explaining the price hike based on Econ 101, wasn’t it? That was when I heard stories of how some people were caught cutting a slot in the newspaper stack to place a brick. Obviously,
uncle newspaper was not going to be fooled; even a 4 year old would smell a brick in the 20 kilogram stack that was 1 meter high. The incident only blacklisted my neighbor and all he could do with the newspapers was using them to clean windows and glasses, or sometimes his pyromaniac son would then invite us for an impromptu bon-fire burning
bunga tahi ayam and grilling grasshoppers…
“You thought
uncle is a
karang guni, ah? No bottles, no cardboards, only old newspapers! I may consider taking your old books.” said
uncle newspaper impatiently.
I tried my best not to fall asleep during the day so that I could adjust my body clock to Malaysian time. So I accompanied my parents for grocery shopping. As we were driving around town, I realized this sleepy little town has grown from a fishing village to a booming district with small businesses everywhere. The business district built on the reclaimed land by the sea was almost fully occupied, with another piece of land where new development was still in progress.
Mamak and Chinese eateries were only within each other’s arms reach. That shows how much we love to eat, anytime, anywhere. Every morning I would stroll down to
Jalan Parit Mesjid, the main street where my favorite road side
kuih stall was. The stall was a simple set-up – a car parked by the road under a tree, with the trunk open, and a small table set up right by the open trunk where all the food was. The makcik sold an assortment of
kuih-muih, including my favorite
rempah udang and
roti sambal!
“
Adik, I see you every morning nowadays, you love
makcik’s kuih-muih, don’t you?” she said in Malay.
That morning (almost every morning), I had
roti canai,
mee siam with
rempah telur,
rempah udang,
roti sambal, and a cup of
Nescafe, kurang manis. Definitely, I was home.
Chinese New Year (CNY) is always fun and food filled. 15 days of celebration, lion dances, fire crackers, tangerines, the color red, and loathsome traditional CNY songs that the radio stations overplayed like Christmas carols, have never failed to excite the little ones, as well as the grown-ups, even generations after Chinese have migrated to the Malay land. We even hyped up our fellow Malays and Indians to embrace the tradition. The first two days of CNY are public holidays while schools get a week off. Friends and families gather for the joyous occasion, feasting and gambling, visiting and catching up, giving and receiving
ang pow. This year I did not see any
White Rabbit Creamy Candy, my all-time favorite candy, due to the melamine scandal in China. Both my aunts were back from England, my uncle flew home from Australia, and I traveled across continents to the other side of the globe to spend short but wonderful time with my family.
“Time to eat!” announced grandma, breaking the lively exchanges among us. Sitting around the table, feasting while sweat filled my forehead, listening to gossips and updates, I was home and I would be home again, soon.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Day 4 was crazy... spent a lot of time travelling on bus and also walked a lot. It rained since last night. So the weather was cold.
By the time we reached Yeliu, it was still raining. And the wind was as strong as you could imagine. Armed with a poncho, we explored the Yeliu coast and the famous rock formations there.
We then headed to Danshui, which took us another 2 hours to reach. By the time we got there, it was already dark and it was so cold! The strong gust of wind did not help. The Fishermen's Wharf was our first stop in Danshui. Took some pictures there before heading to the Old Street, where I bought the famous Iron Eggs.
On the way back to Taipei city, I dropped by Shilin Night Market again and did some shopping there.
After Shilin, we went to Taipei 101 and guess who I saw? I saw LanBo and Damu. Probably not many people know them. They are actually the top dancers in the country and teacher to many artistes.
Lastly, we went to Zhongxiao East Road to find out where Luxy is. Didn't go in, but from outside, it doesn't look to fancy.
Labels: Taiwan, Vacation
