I love this range of advertisements. They are just so cool! The music, the colours, the concepts, movements and everything else. They just the kind of advertisements for a “Perk me up” in the morning.
Found this website from Mr Miyagi’s blog. For each word that we get right, 10 grains of rice get donated to UN to help end world’s hunger.
It is addictive and helps improve our vocabulary for a good cause.
There are four Indian Reserves in Palm Springs. I was eager to visit this one as there are 2 waterfalls inside.
Palm Springs Indian Reserve: I wanted to see it cos I remembered reading a book set in this setting. I really wanted to see the Canyon and Waterfalls. It was only while I was there that I realised that most tourists stayed away during summer cos it is really too hot out there. Luckily, someone told me to bring a scarf along. I learnt that the beauty of the scarf was so that I could wet it everytime I passed by a stream and used it to keep my head cool. The heat was so intense that it dried up in no time. I eagerly kept my ears open for any sounds of gushing water so that I could wet my scarf again.
Trying to get to the rock so that I could climb on top of the rock.
Can’t for the life of me remember why I was trying to do that. But, I remember the weather was so heated up that I was almost dry by the time I finished exploring.
When you missed your flight home and is stranded at the airport for 8 hours, who do you want to meet most?
For me, it was a fellow Singaporean who coincidentally also missed the same flight and was also on the waiting for the next flight. Just the right person to help squash that tiny tinge of home-sickness building up in anticipation of the home-going.
We hanged out together comfortably, hoping that we could both get on the next flight. Luckily, we both did. Hooray!
This picture was taken when we finally reached Changi Airport. See the happy smiles?
Her name is J. We met outside the bus station at Palm Springs. The station was unexpectedly closed with a notice stating “Be back at 3pm.” J was already sitting on the curb when I arrive lugging my luggage. With no other choice, I decided to join handful of people waiting and sat myself next to Jes on the curb. She threw me an empathetic smile and told me that she had been waiting for half an hour already. The group of us just sat there in the heat observing the flow of newcomers and offering the same empathetic smiles. It was quite amusing to see others arriving and displaying the same initial shock to find the station closed.
I asked J to take a picture of me with my luggage. “I am going to label it (Stranded in Palm Springs) “. We laughed and striked up a conversation, telling each other why we were in Palm Springs. Bit by bit, we began to exchange trivalities of our lives, our families, our homeland and its respective way of life.
J was a caregiver. She came from Zimbabwe alone. Had been in State for 8 years. Was in Palm Springs for her caregiving work but she lived in LA. Been married in States and divorced after 2 years. She had been single since and enjoyed her independence. She had always been a fiercely independent person from young. But, she missed her family alot, especially the womenfolk, her grandma and her sister. Her younger sister married young and had tons of kids. Hence, she couldn’t join J in States.
Bit by bit, she painted me a life that is totally foreign to me. A life in that is far removed from her life in States. A heritage and ties which she tried fiercely to protect and remain connected through weekly phone calls and mailing nice things back for her family. I admired her for her courage in seeking a better life in a foreign land, not only for herself but for those back home too.
Even with her obvious love for her homeland and those she left behind, it is obvious that she does not think much of her own people in a place she now resided in. “The bad thing about us blacks is we do not do enough to help our own kind. The blacks are one of the most selfish people in the world. And that’s why we are always the lowest on the social hierarchy. Every place that I go to, there are always social groups of different people like the Filipinos or the Chineses, advertising to welcome people of their own race to seek them out for help. You don’t ever see that of a black community here.” Despite this, she talked of her homeland with a yearning reflecting all she missed.
She is a combination of strength and kindness. When we were finally on bus and I was dozing off, she woke me up. Laying her own cardigan on her right shoulder like a pillow, she said “Here. Lean on me while you sleep. You will break your neck sleeping this way.” And she refused to take no for an answer. When we reached LA, she was nice enough to send me to the connecting bus to my hotel. We parted ways with a warm hug but no exchange of contact information or any suggestions to keep in touch. Somehow, it felt just right to part like that, once more strangers on the street. But, the memory of this stranger and her kindness lingers in my memory.
And this is one of my greatest joys of travelling. The people I met, each with their own unique perspective of lives and the random acts of kindness that touched me. Even the nasty experiences that seems funny retrospectively. All these experiences string together to form bits and pieces of my life.
The drive to the village offers a wonderful view that is typically Provence. You see interesting homes built all the way round the cliff, accompanied by lovely view of the sea all the way up. The village itself is quaint but has been converted to a very touristy place. You see quaint shops all around and enjoy exploring the unique structures. As usual, there is a church up at the top. This one has a cemetary. I went to explore it with a group of tourists from UK, looking at the inscription on the tombstones. Met a nice couple from HK too.
After I said bye to them, found a garden path forking off the main path and head that way. But, I started heading up again when it seems to spiral all the way down since I was afriad to miss the next hourly bus. On my way up, I found another path forking off to a nice picnic spot offering a great view of both the sea and a private garden. Happily sat down on the bench to enjoy the view. It was in moments like these that made the world at home seem very far away and surreal. It is also in moments like these that you came to mind and I missed you most. Always wishing that you were there to share the moments with me.
From Eze Village, I headed off to Monaco. I didn’t really like Monaco cos it felt like the place for the rich and famous. I saw lots of beautifully dressed people arriving in posh cars in front of the main entrance of some posh hotel. It was like a scene from Hollywood. Lots of people lounging around pristine looking cafes. I headed out toward the waterfront, took a quick look, decided I don’t like the place and headed on a bus back to the hostel.
Asked my friends. Especially those who envy my income and freedom.
My typical response: “Just feel tired and want to move on.” It is the easy response without having to explain too much.
I have to admit. There is alot of good that I do appreciate. I love my boss. I love my colleagues. I love my freedom. And income is good too. I have clients I adore where I feel the work I do for them is worthwhile. I also enjoy the fact that we get exposure to different things and situations.
But, the clients that are bad really drives me nuts. They are the one who give you the least business but drive you nuts with their incessant demands. They are the ones who take up most of your time and the hardest to drop. Recently, I have been getting the feeling that I may just snap if I have to take anymore stupidity from them. I also dislike the working hours. I want to enjoy not thinking about work after I leave the office and spend my weekend with people I love. I dislike the feeling of stagnancy and cannot foresee myself being here for long term anymore.
I am a Fxxxxxxxxx.
It is not my job to revamp the whole mail room to ensure that mails do not get lost.
It is also not my job to alter the company’s processing system to your preferred mode.
And no, contrary to what you think, I am not a 24 hours hotline to be responsible for answering your queries as and when you desired. Especially, not on a Friday night at 11pm. Contrary to what you think, people in my profession have a life of our own. I do not typically spend my Friday nights or weekends providing a step by step guide telling you what buttons to click on your screen just because you happen to be free. Neither do I typically enjoy long conversations with clients on such a night.
And no, I am not desperate to earn your money. In fact, if I have a choice, I prefer to turn down your business. In fact, I will gladly pay you the miserable amount I am earning from you to GET YOU OFF MY BACK! Oops! Sorry, I just remember that I am not even earning anything from you.
I am just expected to be available to answer your ceaseless questions anytime you think it is convenient to call. And in case, you are still wondering about this point. Just let me clarify that when I said it is inconvenient to talk to you now, it also means it is inconvenient to talk to you over sms. Or rather, it is a polite way of letting you know that I do not want to spend my Friday night talking to you (sms included) when my friends are all sitting there waiting for me to hang up the bloody phone. So please do not sms me 10 mins after we ended our phone conversation.
(After I finally managed to put down the phone. M suggested wryly “Next time, just tell him you are having sex or something and put down the phone.” lol)
Now that I am almost done airing off my irritation here. Just let me end the post by telling you to please kindly FUCK OFF! In case you miss the point, Fuck Off includes not sending me sms after midnight.
I liked the serenity of sitting myself in a quiet corner on one of the benches, observing the devotees, the services and the tourists. I enjoyed the choir performances in a language that was foreign but soothing to my ears. In my detour back to Paris after Switzerland, I made it a point of slipping in during the services, just to enjoy the feel of the place. The unique combination of serenity amid a busy tourist attraction.
Oh yes, I climbed to the top of the towers like Notre Dame. I collasped on the floor panting horribly the moment I reached the top. I had a moment of fear feeling the familiar dizziness washing over me. Happily, it passed.
The view from the top is the best view of Paris I had seen. You get a wonderful view from all directions.
I had a bad encounter initially at the queue. I was almost at the entrance already when the guard started pointing out people randomly and telling us to get out of the queue. The asian couple in front was the first 2 people that he picked and I was the third. Subsequent few pickings were all asians. I was furious and demanded to know why I had to come back while the people behind in the queue got to go in. His reply “You! Don’t loud at me! Go!”
Another pure case of racism! I really hate these bloody assholes! WTF! Rather than to come back and queue again only to face the same bloody asshole, I decided to come back the next day.
The next day, I got in without a hitch. And I am really happy I came back.
I love this place! The chapel may be much smaller than Notre Dame but it has an absolutely enchanting feel to it. The entire upper session is filled with stained glass. I had a travel novel with me. The 2 characters were exchanging their favourite places in Paris. Sainte Chapelle was one of the choices. “You must go there to stand in the light” was the suggestion given by man. Standing right in the middle of the Chapel, facing up, I understand what he meant. You see the multiple columns of stained glass throwing off reflections from the glittering sunlight. You marvel at the beauty of it.
I met a fellow traveller, H, from Prague there. We both agreed that this is the ideal place to have a fairytale wedding. H suggested that I headed down to Sacre Coeur, his favourite in Paris.
It is a great place to lie on the grass, enjoy a picnic and read my book. View from the top is great. There was a street singer thumping again on his guiter while we sit happily on the steps to enjoy his songs. I felt so lighthearted and carefree, just sitting there.
The church was nice too. I was just in time to join the service.
On my way out, I saw a young woman begging at the entrance of the church with a young child. There are hordes of touts approaching tourists to sell some good-luck charms which were strings that they rapidly tied and hooked round your wrist. They seem harmless but I avoided them by immersing myself in a group of tourists.
