baby steps, but together we can!

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/04/20/magazine/20wwln-lede-t.html?ei=5087&em=&en=76d14e551d4461fb&ex=1208923200&pagewanted=all

homeworking

working from home isn't as fun as people think. first of all, being in PJs all day is not as fun as dressing up in nice clothes. so today i met kibum at mercury dime (cafe in the east village- i cannot reveal more for fear it becomes an afternoon watering hole for college kids) and i was wearing a pretty top with jeans and heels (and i had biked no less- but i bike in heels all the time anyway so no biggie).
k: what are you so dressed up for??
me: i have all these nice clothes and no where to wear them to anymore!
k: don't worry that anxiety will fade soon
me: i don't want to be one of those women who has let it all go... (slightly depressed at the thought that in a year i might be frumpy and not care)

second, it gets boring sitting at home all day by myself. which explains why i was out at mercury dime. but also because i had to meet our new intern who just moved to NY from spain. she is working with us a few hours every week and for two days, we will meet to work together.

third, it is a lie that home-workers have it easier. i wake up at 7.30am and start work almost immediately (after a quick breakfast that is... i cannot do without my morning meal). no luxury of day dreaming or leisure reading in a subway or bus. and although i take the liberty of "finishing" early to beat the after-office gym crowd, work is sort of simmering in the worldwide web, waiting to envelope me when i come home. since home is also office, and the business is my own, the if-i-don't-do-it-who-will / why-do-it-later-when-i-can-do-it-now impulses are much stronger, and the tendency to act upon them also much higher.

fourth, no benefits. no insurance. no more corporate perks. so no tickets to tribeca film fest or pretentious galas. but i saved a box of my old business cards so i can use them for museum admissions. heh heh.

fifth, i have to constantly keep the house clean (ok somewhat clean) so it's bearable to work in. which means i spend at least 40 mins a day doing some household chore. when i was working at an office, i could ignore dishes left in the sink and bread crumby table tops. now no longer.

sixth, my bf thinks that just because i work at home i have more time so i have been assigned the terrible task of watering the plants on the terrace (which he endearingly calls "our garden").

seventh, there is a lot of admin-type stuff that needs to be done- a system to create, infrastructure to build. just very basic things to help this organization function more smoothly, but which take a lot of time and effort at the beginning, with hardly any real immediate gains to show for it.

but i enjoy this new life. i bike around everywhere i go and save on the bus and subway fares and especially cab fares. i can eat more healthily and work out more frequently. i get a change of environment whenever i feel like i need it, and if i did feel like sleeping in one morning, i wouldn't have to call in with an excuse.

it takes discipline, this homeworking thing, but i think i can do it.

genial

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/04/20/magazine/20Live-a-t.html?pagewanted=all

In the above article, under the Sweat Equity section, Hong Kongers are literally peddling energy. Funny enough about 2 years ago Fede suggested that all gyms should be equipped to harness energy from its members as they work out. I laughed it off as one of his great ideas because the efficiency would be low and storage would be a problem. If this project is viable in the long-run, I will have to say that my bf can sometimes be quite "genial".

I am back in NYC and have conquered jetlag. bf surprised me with homecooked nouvelle cuisine (seared scallops atop mozzarella buffala and topped with marinated sundried tomatoes- quite heavenly). he kept urging me to take a shower and when i finally agreed (i mean, what, do you think i smell bad??), i pull open the shower curtain and in the tub is a trek bike and in the bottle holder is a small bottle of champagne. i have to hand it to bf, he has swept me off my feet for the second time.

the bike is the best present i've ever received. i have been dying to get a bike since i lost his (it was stolen when i parked it outside barnes and nobles due to torrential rain- i couldn't bike it back!!). but for fear of getting it stolen again, plus it was getting cold anyway, i put off the purchase month after month. he did not scrimp on this one too. i was willing to spend about $100 for a second (maybe third, fourth or even fifth) hand bike off of craigslist. but he got me a spiffy stree bike with titanium body (who cares if it's not- it just sounds cool) so it's light enough to carry up the stairs in our building.

riding around the city is like traveling in a parallel universe. you notice things you never would have. like most streets do actually have bike lanes. like there are many more bikers than one notices when just a pedestrian. like the streets are terribly pot-holed. like the awnings of stores look different than when walking past them on a sidewalk.

the best thing about biking is that i actually CAN get EVERYWHERE in 10 mins. i usually think i can get everywhere in ten minutes on foot- but as everyone can attest to, that is a gross underestimate. but with a bike, i foresee that my chronic lateness will become less of a problem. for example today, i left my place at 12.45 and told flo i would meet her on the other side of the williamsburg bridge at 12.55. i had never biked across the w'burg bridge so i had no clue if 10 mins was enough time. but hell yeah, i got there in 9 minutes and was early!

now every errand seems a breeze to run and my efficiency is doubled thanks to my new bike. also, i will no longer pay for the smelly subway and crowded bus, plus my carbon footprint is greatly reduced. what a marvelous gift!

truly a paradise to behold, sipadan is like a dream island. as the boat approaches the island, one can see the waters change from a deep blue to a bright aquamarine. the atoll wall is a plunging 600m and the reef around the island is not large. the water is unbelievably clear and visibility is easily about 30m.

my father did not dive but came on every boat ride to snorkel on the surface. he was intrigued by what he could see even from the top- reef sharks, green turtles. he even swam in a school of barracuda and a school of jackfish.

i dived and so was able to see much much more. of course turtles were a regular sighting- they were often resting on the coral wall or sometimes swimming up for air. we saw some reef sharks and a family of white tips which was fun. swimming among the colorful and very plentiful reef fish all along the coral wall was like diving into a fantasy aquarium.

we met some nice friends from germany and sweden and my father, as a true blue singaporean, always wonders how they manage to afford taking weeks on end off from work. i tell him people just choose to live life very differently, not take up too many obligations which will tie them to their desks too much. sometimes i think he fears i might become a wandering, traveling vagrant for the rest of my life.

letters from Sabah - #2

I am heading to Semporna, the town from which I will be catching a
boat to Mabul. The drive from Sabahmas (the name of the estate I had
been staying at) to Semporna is 3 hours and as I have explained in my
first email, there is nothing but oil palm plantation in the
landscape. This explains why I am eager to write. (also, I am a litte
tired of reading a fiction book about a Ukrainian family in the UK. It
is not bad, I am just bored)

Plantation life is somewhat colonial. The oil palm industry was
previously dominated by the British (of course-which industry wasn't?)
so even though the estates are now owned and managed by Malaysians,
life there still smacks ever so slightly of old colonial ways.

In general, the Malaysian Chinese are the men that run the show from
the top. The office staff is mostly Bumiputra. Mid-management is
mixed-Chinese, bumi, kandazan-dusun (indigineous peoples). At the
bottom of the organizational chart are the field laborers, and they
are mostly immigrants from Indonesia because the work is too lowly and
menial for Malaysians. I wonder where will we all turn for menial
labor when the third world (someday) becomes first?

Colonial practices continue. Among the mid and senior management,
meals are almost always eaten together. Every morning at 7am we gather
out on the guest house verandah and someone calls us in when breakfast
is served. This is not just a toast and butter breakfast. We get
noodle soup, sometimes poori and dahl or even curry noodles. Then we
break off to do our work. Mine was not laborious by any means. I was
attached to the ecological management unit and they were tasked on
doing an internal audit in preparation for the external "sustainable
palm oil" audit and certification. We spent time in the field watching
how harvesting was done, how they apply fertilizer to prevent surface
run off and water pollution (like we learned in geography class) and
make sure these procedures are safe and environmentally friendly.

At 12.30 we break for lunch and unlike the rest of us city rats, they
eat slowly, chit chat, watch TV for a bit and resume work at 2. At 7,
we all come back from our various areas of work and at 730 dinner is
served again in the common dining hall. After dinner we adjourn to the
same verandah that overlooks the vast expanse of oil palm and drink
beer while cracking jokes and peanuts.

Last night we went boar hunting. There is an overpopulation of wild
boar that feeds on the oil palm fruit so they have to be culled. I had
the privilege of joining on one such expedition. I sat high up on the
elevated seats of the land cruiser with the estate manager. A few
ex-hunters who are now on the estate's payroll stand in the back with
their spotlights trying to spot the glint of the animal's eyes. We
spotted about 12 in total but killed none in the end. They were hard
to target from the land cruiser and the ground was too muddy to run
after them. So we ended the night/early morning with no prize but I
think it was the first time I had ever seen and heard a gun being
fired.

The staff address everyone as Mr so and so. If it is an english name,
it is Mr Jeremy or Mr Philip. If it is a chinese name then it is Mr
Foo or Mr Chang.

Plantation life is simple and good but one would have to get used to
giant milipedes and locusts that hover around and sometimes bump into
you.

Ok, I have arrived at my destination. So long folks!

letters from Sabah - #1

Writing from sabah. I flew to kota kinanalu and from there to sandakan
where I was picked up and we continued on a 3 hour drive to lahad
datu, the nearest town to the plantation I was headed for. For almost
the whole 3 hour journey, we were driving past plantation after
plantation. The whole landscape of this part of the state is dominated
by the oil palm trees. Before palm it was rubber. It is the resource
curse.

The plantation I'm at is quite comfortable. All the guests are out up
in the guest house where we have air conditioned rooms. the problem
here is insects. They are all over and come in all forms. At any one
time there will be fruit flies buzzing around my face and houseflies
settling on my forehead and fingers. I am slightly paranoid they will
enter my respiratory system whenever I inhale. There are moths of
strange colours -pink and white- one of which landed on my leg this
morning to my disgust. I thank goodness I felt it before I saw it and
so brushed it off thinking it was a fly. Had I seen it first, I would
have jumped out of my chair. I have to keep my cool as I am the only
female in the company of these plantation men.

Then to add to the log of crazy insects, today I saw a foot-long
milipede. Think our garden ones times 50. Definitely a strange sight.

Mozzies are everywhere and I seem to be their only victim. My first
night, I had just arrived and was being introduced to everyone, after
standing still for only 5 mins, my whole left forearm was covered in
red welts. They also like attacking my eyelids for some reason. I wake
up in the night feeling itchy and my eyelids are heavy. In the morning
I look like I have cried my eyes puffy the night before. Hylexin does
not help in this case.

Then there is this nervous lizard that lives in my room. He has brown
grey striped translucent skin and is fat from all the bugs he can feed
on here. He is nervous because unlike the cool ones that sort of stick
around on the walls, this guy scampers whenever I enter the room. My
first night I was given a cool reception as I opened the bathroom door
and he ran across my bare feet. A sensation I would rather never
experience again.

But other than that, the food is great and I have been eating my heart
out as usual. Tonight we might go on a night safari and find the
nocturnal critters as they go about their nightly routines. I hope we
can hunt down some wild boar as I love the meat.

Spent some time touring the palm oil mill as well. It is amazing how
things are created behind the scenes. We have never thought about the
process of how our food gets to the table, but over here, I am
reminded everyday.

On Friday I head off to Semporna where we will be taken by boat to
Mabul Island. I am going to get my advanced cert and hopefully get to
see some great sights in Sipadan.