Another cold and high Covid numbers February day in Hong Kong

One of a number of Covid vaccination centers in Hong Kong (I know 

it says Sport Centre but it's function has been temporarily changed)

After the number fell to 3,629 cases yesterday, Hong Kong had another day of reporting over 6,000 new Covid cases today, with today's 6,063 bringing the total number of cases that the territory's seen thus far up to 46,763.  And the total number of Covid deaths reported today (21) is only exceeded by this past Thursday's in being the highest number recorded to date.  

Also released this afternoon was the information that of all bar six of the first 46 deaths in Hong Kong's fifth Coronavirus wave involved unvaccinated individuals.  Which gets one wondering why the Hong Kong government, even now, doesn't seem to be pushing vaccination all that hard and the media is not disseminating this kind of information more.

 

Speaking of the provision of relevant information about vaccines and the Wuhan coronavirus in general: many people in Hong Kong are finding themselves wishing that the Hong Kong government could emulate Singapore's and produce clearer and more helpful information on official websites and such.  But I suppose this would mean the Hong Kong government getting its priorities straight and, well, what hope is there when, rather than acknowledging that they have played a significant part in causing -- or at least, exacerbating -- this fifth wave, they keep on looking to pin the blame on others, notably foreign domestic workers (the majority of whom hail from the Philippines and Indonesia).   

 

After it transpired that all 17 tickets handed out by the police last Sunday for breaches of the "2 person gathering limit" were to foreign domestic workers (whose monthly salary is about the same as the sum of the fine), Hong Kongers set up a fund to help them which raised over HK$78,000 in a matter of days.  But good news turned into bad after Secretary for Labour and Welfare Law Chi-kwong announced that he was "not sure if [the] crowdfunding to help pay [foreign domestic workers'] fines is "trying to help people with good intentions", or maliciously undermining the entire epidemic prevention work" and he was "[s]eeking advice on whether legal action can be taken to stop [the fundraising effors]"; and took a turn for the worse when the spooked fund organizers (which had ended up raising over HK$107,000) decided to stop their fundraising efforts and return all the donations to the donors. 

 

As Antony Dapiran was moved to sarcastically observe: "Surprised they're not saying it undermines national security..."  To which, another member of the Hong Kong Twitterverse replied: "Just wait. Wonder if they will try to take away the funds raised to help those made homeless, too. Wouldn't put it past them."  (Re the homeless in Hong Kong: terrible but true -- some awful people have actually ejected their domestic workers who tested positive for the coronavirus!  And yes, some other Hong Kongers have sought to help these foreign domestic workers now reduced to sleeping outdoors out.) 

 

Speaking of people sleeping outdoors: at least most of the hospital patients reduced to sleeping (or just waiting for treatment, for that matter) outdoors have been moved indoors as of today in Hong Kong.  And about time too, since it's now on the distinctly chilly side -- and will be for the next few days -- as a cold front sweeps in.  Thank goodness for small mercies?  Only, this is Hong Kong and, truly, such a situation should not have come about in the first place!   

 

The opening sentences from a Reuters article today is worth reading and pondering: "Hong Kong until recently had an enviable record battling Covid-19, but as an Omicron wave now overwhelms the city, the steps that saved lives are making life unbearable for many of its 7.4 million people. Like an immune system overreacting and harming the person it is meant to protect, the "dynamic zero-Covid" policies that had crushed the virus in Hong Kong have contributed to current woes, experts say" (my emphasis).  And consider how battered Hong Kongers are when this overreacting and now harmful immune system analogy is one "that also applies to the city’s “national security” policy."

Funassyi appreciation on its 1880th birthday

My favorite pear fairy dressed up The Tale of Genji's 

author, Murasaki Shikibu :b

 

Plushie family portrait featuring 60cm Funassyi,

50cm Funassyi and Sleeping Bag Funassyi :)

 

For a good chunk of my life, the 4th of July meant one thing to me: the Independence Day of the United States of America.  I'm not American but the USA really does loom large in the world -- thanks to its political might but also dominant pop culture (whose film industry has produced movies with titles such as Born on the Fourth of July along with Independence Day).  And as it so happened, I've been in the US on a number of Fourth of Julys, including one which saw me enjoying a fireworks display in Cortez, Colorado with a bunch of American workmates and friends, and a few that saw me taking in a street parade in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania with other American friends.

 

After I ended up rather ironically leaving the USA to return to Asia on July 4th, 2003, the fourth of July came to have a different and more personal meaning for me that was somewhat bittersweet because I left the country where I had lived for more than a decade with less positive feelings about it than when I first set foot on its land for a future that wasn't completely clear.  With each passing year though, I have come to feel more and more thankful that I did take the not completely easy decision to return to my home continent; and this not least since I've ended up being able to live for the past eleven years in my favorite city on Earth!   

More recently, the fourth of July has come to possess a super positive association by way of it being the birth date of my favorite pear fairy, Funassyi of Funabashi!  Born in AD 138 (and consequently 1,880 years old today), the individual whose formal name is Funadius Yonsei (i.e.., Funadius the Fourth) came down from the pear fairy world to earth six years ago to try to lift up the spirits of people, particularly those who were feeling down as a result of the Tohoku Earthquake of March 11th, 2011.  

 

In the succeeding years, the Pear (as it's affectionately known by its English-speaking fans) has widened its activities and influence to an amazing degree: travelling all over Japan and abroad to Taiwan, Hong Kong, Mainland China, Macau, Indonesia, the USA, Mexico, France, Britain, Germany, Italy, Iceland and even Antarctica!  And while it's made a fortune as well as a name for itself, Funassyi also has continued generously donating to various charities and causes, including the Michinoku Future Fund, the Kumamoto earthquake relief and various local Funabashi charities (sometimes in the guise of Funa Santa!), with the sales proceeds of a number of Funassyi goods (including the Bunshin Funassyi doll, its annual calendars and this year's Funanomics 4 DVD) going to charity!

 

I may have first been attracted to the hyperactive pear fairy whose name has the word "fun" and "ass" in it because of its often very amusing antics but the more I see it in action and also just posing in pictures, the more adorable as well as kawaii I've found it to be.  Still, what really gets me smiling when I think of Funassyi and loving it so very much is that within the Pear core beats an immensely big, generous and warm heart.  So much so that this character actually inspires me to do good and better, and gets me wanting to wish it a happy birthday and many happy returns of its special day! :)

Taking in a flamenco experience at Sevilla's Casa de la Memoria

A place where memories get made...

 

 ...in particular those involving flamenco performances :)

 

I spent two years of the last decade of the previous century in Tanzania conducting research on what's known in Kiswahili (the country's official language) as makumbusho.  While those institutions are known as "museums" in English, the word makumbusho actually literally translates into English as "memories".  So, for Tanzanians, a museum would be a house of memories (and vice versa).

 

In Sevilla, however, the House of Memories I visited was less a museum in the conventional sesnse than a cultural center dedicated to the Spanish performing art of flamenco.  And it was at that particular Casa de la Memoria that my German friend and I added a flamenco show to our list of cultural events that we've attended together (which already includes a traditional dance performance at Yogyakarta's Kraton, a Christmas Eve concert at Amsterdam's Concertgebouw, an organ recital at Speyer's cathedral and a number of classical music concerts in Hong Kong, including one featuring multi-Grammy award-winning double bassist Edgar Meyer).

 

To the surprise of those (including my German friend) who thought that flamenco was all about the dance, the evening performance began with musical numbers courtesy of a guitarist and raspy-voiced singer and it wasn't until around the 15 minute mark of the 1 hour show that any dancers appeared on stage.  Once they did so though, they really did come across as the soul of the show -- with the musicians looking to take their cues from the dancers rather than the other way around.  

 

Sometimes, the two featured dancers performed as a pair.  More often than not, however, each dancer performed solo -- and in so doing, were able to show the audience how different and distinct from each other the moves accorded to the male and female dancers are; with the former involving moves that emphasized his physical strength and footwork that produced loud rat-a-tat sounds, and the latter coming across as impassioned and incorporating movements so wildly dramatic that, by the end of one dance, all the flowers that had previously been lodged in the female artiste's hair were strewn on the floor!

 

If truth be told, dance is probably my least favorite of the performing arts and it took a while for me to enjoy the flamenco show.  Slowly but surely, however, I felt myself drawn into the emotion-infused artistic experience; thanks largely to the dancers who at times hypnotized and other times appeared to be in a trance-like state themselves (this particularly so in the case of the female dancer who had her eyes closed for much of her performance)!  And while I'm not about to make a beeline for any flamenco performances I see scheduled in Hong Kong, I'm glad that I did take in one in a city famous for its flamenco scene and which is said to have this distinctive art form in its soul.   

Two documentaries that benefit from being viewed on a big screen (Film reviews)

Most, if not all, movies benefit from being viewed on a big screen 

Into the Inferno (UK-Germany-Canada, 2016)

- Part of the HKIFF's Galas program

- Werner Herzog (who also scripted) and Clive Oppenheimer, co-directors 

It may have been made for Netflix, whose customers stream the movies they watch onto computer and smartphone screens or watch them on TV screens courtesy of DVDs, but Into the Inferno really is one of those documentaries that really is best viewed on a big theater screen.  An ambitious, sprawling work which transports its audience to far flung places with landscapes that can look incredibly unearthly, it also has truly incredible footage that not only shows the power of volcanoes but also how mesmerizingly as well as frighteningly beautiful lava can look when it churns about, erupts and/or flows out to envelope whole landscapes.

Peter Zeitlinger's cinematographer makes sure that Into the Inferno is no run of the mill documentary but what really makes certain of this is the distinctive imprint that director Werner Herzog (who also scripted this effort) leaves on it.  And while the German auteur may have given Professor Clive Oppenheimer a co-directing credit and had the Cambridge University volcanologist be the main man in front of the camera, the fact that this work takes pains to explore the spiritual side of volcanoes rather than just their scientific aspects is something that comes from Herzog steering the production towards subject matter that truly interests him.

Over the course of the film, Herzog and Oppenheimer -- who met in Antarctica, when Herzog was filming his Encounters at the End of the World (2007) -- journey to the Vanuatu archipelago in the South Pacific, Indonesia (the country with the most volcanoes in the world), Iceland, Ethiopia and North Korea (home to an active volcano that all Koreans consider sacred).  In addition to getting up close with some really spectacular volcanoes and related physical features (such as caldera lakes), they also interact with a diverse group of individuals, including members of a cargo cult, outwardly super-patriotic North Koreans (who often act like they too belong to a cult), and paleoanthropologist Tim White and his dedicated crew as well as volcanologists from various countries.

In the hands of lesser (or plain different) filmmakers, the different sections of Into the Inferno wouldn't feel like they could all fit into a single work.  However, Herzog successfully weaves them into a pretty fascinating exploration of the passionate -- often to the point of obsessiveness -- human quest for meaning, all of which involve volcanoes in one way or another.  

My rating for the film: 8.0

Makala (France, 2017)

- Part of the HKIFF's Global Vision program

- Emmanuel Gras, director, scriptwriter and cinematographer

- With: Kabwita Kasongo, Lydie Kasongo

One of the sights that invariably strikes visitors to the African continent is of people -- men, women and children -- forced to walk far distances because they don't have money for public transportation, let alone a car or even motorcycle of their own.  Adding to the misery is that many of these people are effectively their own beasts of burden, carrying all manner of things on their heads as well as in their arms and on their backs.    

Even when the subject of Makala (charcoal in Kiswahili, the native language of its protagonist), a Congolese charcoal maker and seller by the name of Kabwita Kasongo, has use of a bicycle, it's to load with many heavy bags of charcoal and then push into town rather than actually ride.  Observing the massive effort this takes, one can't help but feel for him.  Knowing that considerable effort also is required beforehand to do such as cut down the trees whose wood then gets turned into charcoal gets one concluding that his is a life that so many of us would not be able to lead and endure for long at all.

While much of this affecting film is taken up documenting mundane activities, there are elements in it which can disturb despite being depicted in a matter of fact way rather than sensationalist manner.  One example is rat being part of the diet of the protagonist and his family.  Actually more upsetting though is how it can seem that the closer he gets to town (and supposed "civilization"), the more unpleasant Kabwita's encounters with his fellow humans get.  In addition, there are scenes in this documentary that get me questioning why he has so much faith in God when there seems to be so much inequality and suffering in this world.

Rather than look upon him merely as an unlucky wretch condemned to a Sisyphean existence, however, I came away from my viewing of Emmanuel Gras' documentary thinking that Kabwita Kasongo is one of those heroic as well as admirable individuals who, somehow, against the odds, manages to not only eke out an honest living but also provide for his wife Lydie and their children, and continue to dream of, and plan for, a better future for them all.  And it is my sincere hope that he's been amply rewarded for agreeing to appear -- nay, star -- in this work which has gone on to garner a number of accolades, including the Critics' Week Grand Prize at last year's Cannes Film Festival.

My rating for this film: 7.0

10 highlights of my 2017 year

Did you know you can get this close to

the great Torii of Itsukushima Shrine?! :O

One of many sunsets I enjoyed photographing from 

my new favorite sunset photography spot in Hong Kong :)

I did a lot of travelling outside of Hong Kong in 2017.  I made three trips back to Penang and made one more visit to Japan this past year.  I also visited Indonesia and South Africa for the first time ever in 2017.  Oh, and I spent the better part of a day in Macau last year too.  I guess it stands to reason then that many of the highlights of my 2017 involved experiences that occured outside of the Big Lychee.  

At the same time though, I want to make clear that my love for Hong Kong remains pretty strong -- and it remains the best place that I've lived in by a long chalk to my mind.  In addition, I think it says a lot that Hong Kong has always figured in all of the annual highlights lists that I've compiled since beginning this blog: including this current one as well as those for 2016, 2015, 2014, 2013, 2012, 2011, 2010, 2009, 2008, 2007 all the way back to 2006 (the year before I moved to this part of the world).

1) Best book: As a lover of crime novels, I'm no stranger to being transfixed by a veritable page-turner that causes me to stay awake far beyond my supposed bedtime.  But it's far less often that a non-fiction work will feel so hard to put down that it will literally cause me to lose sleep.  Trevor Noah's Born a Crime is that one of those very rare works.  The absolutely gripping story of his childhood and coming of age in South Africa, it also is a wonderfully loving tribute to his mother.  Parts of it made me laugh (as one might expect of a book written by a famous comedian) but other parts made me cry and touched me so very much.   

2) Best concert: Last September, I heard and saw the very talented pianist, Yuja Wang, performing live with the Hong Kong Philharmonic Orchestra.  I also was in the audience for the orchestra's very fun Musical Ping Pong concert in June.  But my absolute favorite concert that I got to attend in 2017 took place earlier still in the year and featured another bravura performance by my favorite classical musician for some years now, violinist Ning Feng.  Amazingly, I managed to get two front row seats for a friend and myself for the Hong Kong Philharmonic Orchestra's Jaap & Ning Feng concert in April and had an unimpeded view of the guest soloist at work that left me in absolute awe of his nimble figures and absolute mastery of his instrument of choice.

3) Best drive: Very early on during my visit to South Africa, I got to realizing that it is a jaw-droppingly beautiful land.  My first full day in the country began with a visit to a stunning beach and included a scenic car ride along Chapman's Drive that had me "oo-ing" and "aah-ing" for much of the way.  Amazingly though, a few days later, I was driven along another stretch of coastal road that I actually think offered up far more stunning views.  And yes, I thank my lucky stars that I was in a passenger seat when we went along Clarence Drive because that way, I really got to admire the spectacular scenery that kept on revealing itself in front of as well as on either side of the car I was in for miles and miles!        

4) Best exhibition: Most of Macau's visitors go their to gamble at its casinos.  I, on the other hand, am more likely to spend time there wandering around its historic center and sampling its very culinary offerings.  This past year though, the primary attraction for me in Macau was Our Sanrio Times, a mega-exhibition geared towards fans of Hello Kitty and other luminaries in the Sanrio stable, including my first Sanrio love, Winkipinki -- and anyone who doubts that I was genuinely thrilled by what I saw there really should have been there to hear the excited squeals that inadvertently emanated from me more than once over the course of the two hours or so that I spent at this kawaii event!       

5) Best film: I viewed 71 new films for the first time in 2017 but the highpoint of my movie-going year actually involved viewing a 1954 film that I saw for the first time as an undergraduate at Beloit College.  I knew the first time I saw it that Akira Kurosawa's Seven Samurai was a bona fide classic but I feel that I actually appreciate and love it so much more on my second viewing: decades later and on a much bigger screen than previously.  Put it another way: this epic work doesn't seem to only have stood the test of time but its greatness may become more apparent the older it is -- or the older and more mature its viewer becomes!

6) Best hike: Not counting the mini-hikes to and out of Cheung Chau's Tung Wan Tsai (Coral Beach) as part of my monthly beach clean-up efforts, I went on a total of 24 hikes last year in Hong Kong.  Of these, my favorite has to be that undertaken one beautiful day in April and involving my going along a trail that I hitherto hadn't realized existed, part of which was on an old military road way up in the northern New Territories.  Seeing that part of the route had my group passing through a section marked off in the relevant Countryside Map as a firing range, it seems like we were dicing with danger that afternoon!  So I'm not sure if I should or will venture to -- and through -- that scenic area again but, if truth be told, I'm glad to have done so at least once now!                

7) Best place to be at high and low tide: For my first ever visit to Japan's sacred island of Miyajima, I made sure to be at Itsukushima Shrine when high tide came along and was duly rewarded with some pretty incredible sights.  Without really planning to, I also happened to be in the area when the tide was so low that I was able to walk up to the shrine's great Torii, observe that there were oysters on it and actually touch it with my hands.  In doing so, I felt blessed for the second time that day; with the first having been at high tide when I totally "got" why Miyajima has long been ranked among the top three scenic places of Japan (nihon sankei).    

8) Best place for Golden Hour and sunset photography: Back in May 2015, I visited Matsue and found that sunset photography is a major thing there.  Inspired by what I saw there, I actively sought out prime sunset photography spots in Hong Kong upon my return -- and found a couple over on the western side of Hong Kong Island.  Still, while the Sai Wan Swimming Shed and Kennedy Town's Western District Public Cargo Area (aka Instagram Pier) certainly do have their fans, my personal favorite actually is further to the east: over at Lei Yue Mun, particularly in the vicinity of its Tin Hau Temple; with the photos I've taken there, particularly one hot June day last year, showing why this is.         
9) Best museum: The Osaka Museum of History was never high on my list of museums to visit in Japan.  Neither was it high on my list of Osaka attractions to check out.  But one super rainy day in Osaka last October, I decided to head over to that not particularly famous museological establishment and came away completely bowled over by the artistry of its exhibit designers and creativity of its curators in fashioning beautiful and interesting exhibits despite not having all that many ancient and historical artefacts to work with and display.  Highly recommended as a place to visit even on fine weather days, it truly is a museophile's delight! 

10) Best UNESCO World Heritage Site: I visited seven UNESCO World Heritage Sites in four different countries in 2017.  Japan's Itsukushima Shrine was pretty amazing and a visit to the Hiroshima Peace Memorial can't be anything but a seriously moving experience, as is a visit to South Africa's Robben Island.  Meanwhile, it says a lot that I always feel like I find something new to admire whenever I visit Macau's Historic Center -- and I will always feel a special connection with George Town because, well, it's my home state's capital city!  Still, it's the Indonesian UNESCO World Heritage sites of Prambanan and Borobudur which really took my breath away -- and the ancient Buddhist monument of Borobudur where I happily spent several hours, including ones that were early enough in the day for me to see the sunrise from what felt at the time like the top of the world! :)

Cape Town's Bo-Kaap and Cape Malays/Muslims, and South Africa's "Coloureds"

One of the exhibit spaces in Cape Town's Bo-Kaap Museum

 

Colorful buildings abound in the Bo-Kaap section of Cape Town

 

Part of a mural in Bo-Kaap which pays tribute to the area residents, 

and their historical and cultural heritage 

 

On my first full day in South Africa, I caught sight of the colorful section of Cape Town known as Bo-Kaap while being driven through the city.  But it wasn't until my final full day in the country that I went for a walk in that area -- and other parts of town -- with my South African friend.

 

Formerly known as the Malay Quarter, this former township is most strongly associated with the South African people who have been variously known over the years as Cape Malays or Cape Muslims.  Tracing their ancestry to the indigeneous populace of maritime Southeast Asia (particularly the parts colonized by the Dutch East India Company that are now known as the independent country of Indonesia) who were brought to this part of the world as political prisoners or slaves, they also are the product of inter-"racial" marriages with such as native Africans. 

 

In addition to strolling along the streets and admiring the colorful houses and commercial buildings (one of which looked like it was a tribute both to Piet Mondrian as well as traditional Bo-Kaap design culture), we also spent time in the Bo-Kaap Museum housed in the 18th century building that is the oldest house in the area that's still in its original form.  Although it's one of the smallest museums that I've ever been to, I consider it worth visiting because it's chockful of information, including on who built Cape Town, and I thought the videos shown in a space made up to look and feel like someone's living room (complete with sofas to sit on), are very much worth watching.

 

Something that really struck me when watching those videos were how some of the Bo-Kaap residents interviewed really looked to me like Malaysian and Indonesian Malays.  In particular, a pair of elderly twin brothers -- both of them retired headmasters! -- reminded me so much of a middle-aged Malay friend of mine who I look forward to meeting up with whenever I return to Penang (and who, as it so happens, is the son of a headmaster)!  Linguistic connections also abounded for me, with this Malay speaker being able to comprehend that a respected area resident's "Tuan Guru" title meants "Head Teacher" and finding it fascinating that the Bo-Kaap's Muslim Cemetery is called Tana Baru (very similar to the Malay "Tanah Baru", which means New Ground").

 

More than incidentally, the Cape Malays/Muslims are part of the section of the population known in South Africa as "Coloureds" (to this day).  And until I started researching in earnest ahead of this recent South Africa visit, I hadn't realized that the "Coloureds" are the largest ethnic/"racial" group in Cape Town -- making up 44.6 percent of the population of the "Mother City" to "Whites"'s 32.3 percent and Black Africans' 15.8 percent. 

On the subject of "Coloured" South Africans: while he's not a Cape Malay/Muslim/Coloured, the popular comedian-political commentator, Trevor Noah, is considered a "Coloured" in his home country (but "black" in the United States of America, where he now hosts The Daily Show with Trevor Noah).  And as it so happens, I picked up a copy of his autobiographical Born a Crime: Stories from a South African Childhood at a bookstore before I left the country and that immensely enthralling tome was the first book I read (from cover to cover in less than a week too!) upon returning to Hong Kong... :b

The highest section of the spread out Kek Lok Si Temple complex

On a hill with grand views of Penang (which can be 

better appreciated upon clicking the above image!)...

...can be found this tall bronze statue 

of Guan Yin, the Goddess of Mercy

 

And in a nearby hall can be found this multi-armed 

manifestation of the same Buddhist deity

 

Many years ago, I took an American friend to the Kek Lok Si Temple in Air Itam, Penang.  As we walked through the main part of this sprawling temple complex that's full of exotic sights (some of which used to scare me when I was a child!), he got to asking me -- not entirely in jest, I'm thinking -- to confirm that it all wasn't just a movie set.       

At the time, the highlight of our visit involved going into the temple's Pagoda of Ten Thousand Buddhas and up along flights of stairs that get progressively narrower the higher you climb to the top of this seven-storey structure.  From there, you'd get a panoramic view of the surrounding area and all the way to George Town over in the distance.  

These days, however, one can venture further up the hill to a highest section of the Kek Lok Si Temple.  And that was what a group of us (including my mother, a friend of hers and my German friend) did on my most recent visit to this Penang landmark whose construction began in 1890 but seems to be still being added to and expanding to this day.

 

Towering above its famous pagoda is an over 30-meter-tall bronze statue of Guan Yin, the Goddess of Mercy, housed in an 83-meter-high pavilion and visible from many kilometers away.  The tallest statue of its kind in the world, it replaced a white plaster-encased fiber glass statue of the same deity which didn't fare too well when exposed to the elements.  While certainly very impressive, this present statue reportedly is a scaled-down version of what had been originally planned, as its height was limited by the authorities so that it wouldn't cast its shadow over the Penang State Mosque located in the area below.     

One structure that this statue does overshadow -- and whose very existence I previously had not been aware of -- is a nearby hall housing a very different version of Guan Yin, one whose multiple arms are extended to help out various people.  Also in the area is a pond filled with fish, into which an artificial waterfall flows along with representations of the Chinese zodiac along with other animal sculptures that are distinctly cutesy in nature!

 

If not for my German friend being around on my most recent visit to Malaysia, I'd not have found out about this place for probably a few more years.  And I have to thank her too for getting me to finally check out Ipoh's Sam Poh Tong (and its award-winning ornamental garden), Nam Thean Tong and Perak Tong.  

 

All in all, as I told her near the end of her visit: especially when you also throw in our visits to Borobudur (including Candi Pawon and Candi Mendut), Prambanan (including Candi Sewu) and those other ancient religious structures on the Prambanan Plain (such as Candi Sambisari, Sari and Plaosan), I think that we've now gone together to at least as many religious places in Malaysia and Indonesia as we've been together to biergartens and brauhauses in Germany! ;b

Batik in Penang

A batik artist drawing the outlines of patterns 

by applying molten wax onto the cloth

 

Colorful dyes being painted onto the fabric by another batik artist

 

Thicker brushes are used to applied the same colorful dyes

into the background sections of the designs

 

On the first day that my German friend and I met up in South East Asia, she told me of her plan to get at least one batik shirt during her visit.  Hearing of this, my mother suggested that she focus on making batik purchases in Yogyakarta since it -- together with nearby Solo (AKA Surakarta) -- are considered to be the major historic centres of this traditional decorative art.  And we did spend time browsing in a few batik shops during our sojourn in that Central Javanese city.

At a batik shop with a factory in the back, my German friend purchased a batik shirt made of cotton and featuring a traditional Javanese print design.  And at another batik shop with a factory in the back, this time in Penang, she bought a very different style batik blouse: this one featuring hand-drawn designs and dyed with far brighter colors than those found over in Indonesia. 

 

Venturing first into the factory part of the Penang Batik Factory, we got to see several batik artists at work on hand-drawn and -painted pieces as well as craftsmen going about block-printing other pieces of batik.  Watching the batik being created, particularly the hand-drawn and-painted versions, seemed rather magical to us even while all that work really did seem pretty run of the mill for the artists we saw going about their business rather nonchalantly as well as surprisingly swiftly.  

 

And for those who think batik's just for tourists: my father actually has a bunch of batik shirts which he happily wears to formal functions.  Especially for those Malaysian men who get all hot and bothered when asked to wear Western-style suits and ties, it's quite the boon that batik lounge shirts qualify as formal wear in the eyes of many and thus are considered suitable attire for such as formal dinners! ;b

Reflections on nighttime in Yogyakarta, and my general Indonesian experiences

Yogyakarta's Jalan Malioboro on a quiet week night ;)

Night-time road traffic in the vicinity of Tugu Jogja

"Where are all the people?", I remember asking my German friend when I visited several towns and cities in her home country (including Hirschhorn and Speyer) and found their streets unexpectedly bereft of people.  In contrast, on the first couple of nights that she and I spent in Yogyakarta, we both were shocked by the large crowds we encountered on the sidewalks as well as the heavy traffic on the road.  Indeed, I'd go so far as to admit that the sheer amount of people on the pavements and streets was actually intimidating even to someone who's become very used to dealing with teeming crowds after having lived more than ten years now in super high-density Hong Kong! 

In retrospect, I think my fearfulness stemmed in part to my being in an unfamiliar city rather than just the teeming crowds themselves.  Things also weren't helped by the outdoor lighting in Indonesia being nowhere near as bright as what I've become used to here in Hong Kong, where the light pollution has been found to be the worst on the planet.  In addition, huge swathes of the sidewalks in Yogyakarta were uneven and sometimes potholed to the point that I did fear at times that I'd trip and fall, and injure myself, over the course of my weaving around people and navigating our way around town.      

In any event, I felt more comfortable walking about in the city the second night that I was there than the previous night.  And on our final night in Yogyakarta, walking about at night turned out to be really enjoyable -- what with there being a nice breeze about that hadn't been there before, and also there being way fewer people out and about.

So vast was the size difference in the crowds that my German friend and I were as taken aback by it as we had been by the size of the crowd that we had encountered on our first night in the city -- at least until we got to realizing that our first two nights in Yogyakarta had been weekend nights while our third and final night there was a Monday night!  At the same time, it's all relative, as the proverbial "they" say.  For here's pointing out that the photos at the top of this blog post were taken on the "quiet" night! 

For the record: I really did feel so intimidated those first couple of nights that I didn't feel comfortable taking out my camera and taking photos -- and amidst a whole bunch -- of perfect strangers.  But just as my pre-trip apprehensions about Indonesia (including those stemming from news reports that got me worrying that the whole country was a hotbed of conservative Islam and that racism would rear its ugly, sometimes very violent, head once more there) were dispelled by the interactions I had with various Indonesian people (include whole hordes of students at Borobudur!), so too did my night-time apprehensions end up melting away and I ended up having a pretty good time in an incredibly cultural heritage-rich country I now will definitely consider revisiting before too long. :)

Prambanan's apparently often overlooked Candi Sewu

Not a movie set but a bonafide ancient temple!

 

I could easily imagine this central Javanese site 

figuring in an Indiana Jones type movie though...

 

This also is the kind of setting which called for 

Puppet Ponyo to be captured by the camera in! ;b

 

More seriously though, Candi Sewu's main building is one of those 

structures that are impressive from whichever angle you viewed it :)

Pretty much whenever one reads or hears about Prambanan, the UNESCO World Heritage-listed site is described as being a Hindu monument.  But within this ancient temple compound -- and, actually, counted as part of the temple complex -- lie Buddhist temples (as is the case with the nearby Candi Plaosan, only on an even grander scale); with the largest and northernmost of these being that known as Candi Sewu.  

In its heyday, the Sewu temple complex was said to have been home to 249 buildings.  But that was 13 centuries ago -- and since that time, Candi Sewu has been witness to the fall of the kingdom whose rulers built it and also has been buried by ash from one major volcanic eruption and severely damaged from at least one major earthquake.  Furthermore, it's suffered from looting over the years by both Dutch colonists and local villagers, with a not a single head left on the Buddha statues found within the compound.

However, when compared to the two other Buddhist temples (Lumbung and Bubrah) located between Candi Sewu and Prambanan's main courtyard (where such as the Hindu temples dedicated to Shiva, Brahma and Vishnu are located), there's much to see -- and be impressed by -- still at Candi Sewu.  For example, whichever side of the temple complex that one approaches from, one will be met with the sight of a large pair of striking-looking Dwarapala (armed door or gate guardians), each carved from a single block of stone.  

Also, even while Candi Sewu's main temple would be dwarfed by the 47-meter-high Candi Shiva over at the main Prambanan compound, it's still no slouch at 30 meters in height -- especially when one considers that its considerable age.  In addition, a walk around this ancient structure (as well as along the walled outer corridor of its high platform) truly helps to emphasize how incredible is this cross-shaped 20-sided polygon architectural plus archaeological gem.

All in all, Candi Sewu's probably my favorite of the temples I visited on the Prambanan Plain.  To be sure, Candi Sambisari was a good place to start, Candi Sari provided balance (as the only non-temple I visited that day), and my initial sightings of atmospheric Candi Plaosan and the majestically tall temples in Prambanan's main courtyard will stay in my memory for a long time.  

But my visit to Candi Sewu truly felt special and magical -- in no small part due to my having been able to enjoy being at this expansive complex in what felt like amazing solitude since so very few people looked to have decided that it'd be worth the bother to walk some 800 extra meters to it from the main Prambanan compound!  Probably not since I visited Great Zimbabwe some two decades ago now did I feel like an intrepid explorer (not just traveller), and so very blessed to be able to have the space as well as time to take in wondrous sights in an atmosphere of such blessed peace and quiet! :)  

Soaring spires and spirits at Prambanan! (Photo-essay)

On the same day that I visited Candi Sambisari, (Vihara) Sari and Candi Plaosan, I also spent time at Prambanan.  Although part of me worried that I'd suffer from "temple fatigue" the way I had on a visit to temple- and shrine-rich Kyoto a few years back.  But any doubts that I'd feel underwhelmed by this Yogyakarta-area UNESCO World Heritage-listed site that's often overshadowed in reputation by the considerably better known Borobudur quickly got dispelled when I set my eyes on what the official government brochure describes as "the tallest and most beautiful Hindu temple in the world".  
 
Between the 8th century and 10th century AD, some 240 temples were built within the grounds of Prambanan.  Over the years, some of them have fallen into ruin -- and as recently as 2006, these temple compounds suffered extensive damage as a result of a magnitude 6.4 earthquake.  But enough remains to leave this visitor feeling awe-struck, and also feeling so very fortunate to have been able to visit the place: whose soaring spires tower over the rest of the landscape and leave one feeling very small indeed; and whose stonework gets one marvelling at how amazingly skilled and able its architects and builders -- who lived so very long ago -- were...

Dedicated to Shiva, the tallest of Prambanan's temples 

soars up to 47 meters (around 144 feet) in height

The existence of just a single towering temple is amazing enough 

but there's more than one of them to be found at Prambanan!

 

  Puppet Ponyo also wants it to be known how

elaborately decorated these soaring structures are!

Like at Borobudur, the detailed sculptural reliefs 

on the temple walls inspire awe along with the 

monumental size and nature of the buildings themselves

In Prambanan's Candi Shiva Mahadeva is a statue of the god's 

consort, Durga, which is thought to have been modelled after 

the real life queen whose husband began the Prambanan complex

 In the inner chamber of Prambanan's Candi Brahma can 

be found a statue of the four-faced Hindu god of creation

Puppet Ponyo looking sufficiently awestruck by it all!

 

  Truly, these are the kind of buildings that make you feel that 

you're in the realm of gods when walking amongst them :)