Bridge in Melacca

I don't know how it happens, but there it is: we were simply crossing a little bridge on foot and I happened to turn around with the camera in my hand. And that's where we get this picture of dusk falling on Melacca.

Melacca: Old Quarter

These are some pics of the Old Quarter in Melacca, Malaysia. These were taken during the Southeast Asian Immersion trip in January 2007.

Check out the rickshaw (aka "xe loi"). Each rickshaw driver has to take classes for six months to be licensed to drive these carriages in the Old Quarter. The incredible creativity of each driver is displayed in the designs of their rickshaws. Some have fake flowers, some have ribbons and some even have radios and music players blaring different types of music. Each one has its own character, color, and flair. Tuyet!!

Carrying water

Do you see these steps? There are over 270 steps from the bottom to the top where the Batu Caves are located. These gentlemen are carrying bottles of water up all those 270 steps. I would have to say that with each step, the bottles gain a pound in weight, and about 10 bucks in dollars (well, not really, but it's practically so). Those are expensive waters by the time you climb to the top of the steps. And it is very high. You'll see it when I show the next set of photos. For now, I just want to admire everything that is in these men who have to trudge up and down carrying water to sell (of course, they're going to make tourists pay an arm and a leg for each bottle, too, but that's beside the point).

Have I already said that those are the highest steps I have ever climbed? At the time that I was climbing them, it felt as if I was going to topple over at any second, and of course, I would have crushed quite a few monkeys if I'd ever roll down to the bottom at step 1. I think that by step 150, I was wanting to crawl on my hands and legs, but the steps and handrails were so digusting that I couldn't just crawl. The handrails were truly disgusting -- the sweat, dirt, and whatever else that people have transferred onto those rails -- ugh. I don't even want to think about it. But, I had to hand on for dear life. It felt as if I had a death grip on those handrails, and I am ashamed to say that I practically fought with elderly but gung-ho tourists who also wanted to use the handrail. There were many times during the climb when I had to move from one side of the railing to the other, and those feel feet that I had to cross as I was going up the steps were agonizing. My hands are sweating even now as I think about that experience.

In the end, it was one of the most incredible experiences of my trip to Malaysia.

Dutch church windows

Stained glass windows inside the oldest Dutch church building in Melaka, Malaysia

18 June: red lanterns

This photo was snapped when I was in the dining hall of the YMCA in little India in Malaysia. It brings back images of the movie "Raise the Red Lantern." (I'm cheating slightly in my 30 posts in 30 days project b/c #1 this is photo I've previously posted, but which I delight in so much that I had to repost, and #2 b/c of ailing internect connectivity, I have not been able to post every morning like I'd hoped. My apologies.)

17 June: playing fort

This is a photo I took on the previous trip to south Malaysia. We seem to have built up many forts and then abandoned them to decay under the elements. In the face of this old fort, erected in Melacca on top of a hill overlooking the harbor, we are wasting away just like these facades.

9 June: designs

06 June: concentricity

Malaysian Batik

Last January, our immersion course visited a batik factory/shop in Malaysia. There are two ways of making batik. I'm not too familiar with it, but this is what I remember from what the artist told us: The artist draws each special design by hand (with paraffin pens) and by inspiration. Because it depends on what the artist is thinking of, each design is unique, making each batik a "customized" piece of fashion art. The fabric is then dipped in inks, and the wax is removed in layers from the designs one at a time so that the fabric will take each color it is dipped into. The process takes hours but the result is well worth the wait. The second method is blocking. Once the fabric is ready, the inks and design blocks are chosen, and the fabric is laid out just like as if the artist were to draw on it with wax, but instead the blocks are dipped in ink and then rolled or stamped onto the fabric. This method is often used for larger bolts of fabric that are then cut into smaller pieces for sarongs or shirts or skirts, etc. The art of making batik is so intricate and every single piece of batik produced is unique. Some of the fabrics available for purchase were in the hundreds of dollars. I too succumbed and purchased a few items. It was not hard to spend several hundred dollars in that place.

Lotus Feet on her toes

Yesterday, I was reminded of how ghastly I look now that I've completely lost my tan thanks to the winter months. The cute red sleeveless chemisier from H&M does not look good with two pale, pale arms sticking out. That, my friends, is only one of a hundred other signs that I see everywhere reminding me of how utterly un-springlike I look. And it made me think how our definitions of beautiful have changed throughout time. My sister and I always joke that we would have been natural beauties and worshipped like goddesses if we'd been born several centuries earlier. Our "vices" now would have been virtues back then instead of being suctioned, yoga-ed and lifted away.

On our trip to Malaysia this past January, we visited Chinatown in Melacca, Malaysia, and Candis and I stopped by at a little shop that made bound feet shoes. The shop-owner is the last remaining shoemaker in the area for women with bound feet. They allowed us to browse around and take photographs. They even displayed some old black and white photos of old women who had their feet bound decades ago. Feet-binding begins at very young ages, and begins with a painful process of tightly wrapping the feet in fabric to reshape the bone structure. With each wrapping, the feet are tightened until they become so mis-shapened that they no longer look like feet and whenever the fabrics are unwrapped, the women experience excruciating pain. the toes and heels are so bent that they lay completely flat under the arch of the foot. The lack of support and the pain cause the women to walk very slowly, and have to be aided by maids everywhere they go. Thus, the Lotus Feet (Got Sen -- Lotus Heel). The walk, the attitude, the position, the state of being.

The tiny shoes that you see are handmade for adult women's feet that have been bound. They are exactly like doll's shoes. And these types of shoes came in all types and fashions, and many were made by the women who wore those shoes. It was the "in" thing -- to make your own shoes. And to bind your feet. Very a la mode.

The prettier and fancier the shoes, the more fashionable. The most beautiful shoes were the ones made of rich, gold fiber and exotic fabrics and colors. And very small. The smaller, the richer, the more elegant and high-class. Because only the poor, un-cultured, lower-class servants would keep their grotesquely big, flat feet unbound in order to shuffle around doing work. The hurried, hasty walk was the walk of those who must work, who were born into servitude, not of the ones that have purpose and meaning in life.

Back then, it wasn't just the pale faces or dark hair or the sensuous, swaying gait of a curvaceous body. It was how you actually achieved that affect -- all the tactics you would employ in order to permanently walk in that way, the way of the high-class ladies of culture.

We now look upon bound feet as a horrific practice of a culture and society that is too foreign and ancient for us to understand. In retrospect, feet binding seems like it was an oppressive practice, a practice (most probably) designed and imposed by chauvanistic, insecure, arrogant, sexist males living in a dominant, patriarchal society. But it can't be simplified by blaming the men who coveted those Lotus Feet or the ladies who were the Lotus Feet.

In Bound Feet and Western Dress, we read about traditions that give way from one culture to the next, from one decade to another, from one family to another. In all of this, we can look at how "beauty" was and is defined. In 2007, we no longer bind feet, but we starve ourselves. We burn our skins under UV rays. We laser beam our eyes. Staple stomachs, lift eyebrows, file chins, puncture cheeks, liposuction thighs and abdomens, and even insert gels and liquids into our breasts.

Looks like we're not just re-shaping the feet. This time, it's an extreme make-over.

Songs for the Unsung...

This past January, when I was in Kuala Lumpur, I came across a book of poetry written by Cecil Rajendra, a professional lawyer practicing in Penang, Malaysia, and who is, apparently, one of Malaysia's best known poets. His bio indicates that he has seven volumes of poetry published, and his works have been translated into various languages like Chinese, Japanese, Malay, Urdu, and German.

Unable to read the original, I can only read and admire the nuances conveyed in the English language. Despite everything lost within the translation, I thought it was most admirable that he tackles, unflinchingly, issues of social and political concern. Inside these poems, he takes on poverty, hunger, nuclear war, disease, industrial development, war, refugees, etc., in sweeping songs of condemnation and lamentation, of hope and rejuvenation.

Poetry that deals with these issues are not often written, and when they are, they are crafted poorly. Rajendra's poetry is no exception. His poems are interesting to me not because they are exquisite lines or are of finely honed aesthetic, but only b/c they are daring and courageous in wanting to deal with large issues, with problems and challenges that surpass geographical, cultural, economic, political, social borders.

I cannot emphasize enough how much I dislike poems filled with phrases like "i want to sing / of all that was / but no longer is" and so on, so on. But, there is something in Rajendra's poetry that is acceptable, worthwhile. Redeemable? Redeeming?

No celebratory song

So long
as car-parks take
precedence over hospitals
multi-storeyed hotels
over homes for people
irrelevant factories
over the paddy-fields
of our daily sustenance

I shall
sing no celebratory song
no matter
how many suns go down
This tongue
will be of thistle and thorn
until they right the wrong

So long
as Law comes before Justice
the edifice before service
the payment before treatment
and appearance before essence

I shall sing no celebratory song

So long
as the poet is debased
and the businessman praised
the realist rewarded
and the idealist denigrated

I shall
sing no celebratory song
no matter
how many suns go down
This tongue
will be of thistle and thorn
until they right the wrong

So long
as foreign investors
devastate our estate
and the voice of capital
speaks louder than
the pleas of fisherman

So long
as blind bulldozers
are allowed unchecked
to gouge our landscape
and multinationals
licensed to run
amuck across this land

I shall
sing no celebratory song

So long
as our rivers and streams
our beaches, our air
our oceans and trees
our birds, our fish
our butterflies and bees
are strangled, stifled
polluted, poisoned
crushed, condemned...
by lopsided development

I shall
sing no celebratory song
no matter
how many suns go down
This tongue
will be of thistle and thorn
until they right the wrong

Taught to Read: Unlearned

I've been thinking about the cartoon from Malaysia which I posted a few days ago. After the initial laugh, it really is necessary to think about the meaning behind the images. Upon close inspection, you can see that the cartoon uplifts the following formula:

Knowing how to read = Not cooking, sewing, cleaning = Advanced Woman

My skills in logic are very poor, but I at least know that these kinds of deductions are simplistic and untrue. I laugh at myself for thinking that this is a funny cartoon, for believing that it raises important issues surrounding women's issues -- issues of gender equality. Needless to say, it too M. to point out that I missed a large part of the picture.

Embedded in this drawing is the criticism that women in certain parts of the world, in certain cultures, are still being oppressed and abused. The cartoon uplifts the fact that more and more, women are recognizing that they do not have to accept any one else's determination/definition of their places in the world, and that they are able to carve for themselves different niches and create different systems and structures in societies. Women make their own choices, and those choices are not and should not be limited to the domestic realm. Inherent in this cartoon is the acknowledgement that for centuries women have been "kept in place" -- in certain designations -- by the withholding of certain knowledge skills. No more, we say. In these images, we laugh at the folks -- and ourselves -- for thinking so narrowly about women's roles and capabilities.

We've poked fun at those systems and ideologies that have pushed women into certain positions. But at what cost? Here we are assuming that those certain positions are ones of inferiority and illiteracy. Here, in this cartoon, we suggest that those who are able to read, who have managed to learn skills formerly solely reserved for the male scholars, and we suggest that learning to read moves us beyond and thus above those who cook, clean, and sew. Implicit in this is the insinuation that those who cook, clean and sew do not know how to read, and thus do not know how to do anything but those duties -- with unlearned, illiterate, simplistic complacency. How wrong we are! And by saying that we no longer cook, clean and sew b/c we know how to read, we make certain assumptions that betray our superiority complexes. In fact, it betrays a lot more than just our noses in the air. Does being able to read suddenly make us incapable of handling a pot or holding a needle or vacuuming? Unfortunately, we (and I'm acutely aware of my usage of the overly presumptuous and generally sweeping "we" pronoun... yes, I know, let's define who "we" are) still contribute to the problem b/c we join with those who continue to box some of our sisters into strictly defined roles.

I would have appreciated a cartoon that said things a little differently. It would have been more appropos had the woman in the cartoon not only learned how to read, but she could also persuade her spouse with sound argumentative analysis how to cook, clean, and sew. Then she wrote the manual on how to cook, clean, and sew and to how to do it while acting as CEO of an all-female corporation. Then she edited, designed, and printed the book on her own. After which she created a multi-million dollar company that went on to publish thousands of other books by women chefs, designers, teachers, poets, engineers, scientists, and doctors.

Then she went home and showed her spouse how to make a killer filet-mignon. While lacquering the new set of 4-panel photography piece that will be exhibited at her gallery's opening.

Onward, sisters, go!

Sound of Rain

While visiting the Haw Par Village, we were caught in the cool downpours of Malaysia. Standing under the showers reminded me so much of mưa Saìgòn, mưa Hànội. Because traveling made it difficult to post, I had to wait until now to post this poem, which is dear to my heart. Therefore, this weeks' poem is about the rain. The experience of this poem is slightly marred by my crude and un-versed literal translation of the original. So much is lost in the translation -- far more than the rhythm, the rhymes, the meter, the couplets, the imageries, etc. I can only say that the translation is more of a wild, crazy downpour as opposed to the misty rain of the poet's verses.



Tiếng Mưa

Gió mưa là bệnh của trời
Sầu tư là bệnh của người tha hương

Ngoài trời mưa vẫn cứ rơi
Gợi buồn cho khách phương trời xa quê
Mưa rơi như gọi sầu về
Sầu đong lại thấy tái tê hơn nhiều
Trong gian nhà nhỏ tiêu điều
Nằm nghe mưa gõ tàu tiêu thêm buồn
Ai làm gió táp mưa tuôn
Mưa ơi! mưa có vương buồn như ta
Hay riêng cho khách xa nhà
Gieo thương gieo nhớ, gợi ta điều gì?
Gió mưa chợt đến bất kỳ
Nghe như sầu oán thầm thì trên không.

-Tự Khê, ở Hà Tây


The Sound of Rain

Outside rain continues to fall
Hinting of longings of a guest-traveler heavens-separated from earth-country
Rain falls like calling sadness homeward
Wintry sorrow seemingly frostier than ever
Inside this forlorn space
lying by, listening to rain knock sadness from banana leaves
Who has caused the wind to whistle, the rain to pelt
Rain! Do you call forth such sadness as mine
or is this solely for the guest-traveler far-away from home
casting loves, casting memories, leaving something behind?
Winding rain unexpectedly appearing
So much like sorrow whispering in space.

- trans. HT, December 2006

Signing off from Southeast Asia

The trip through Hong Kong, Singapore, Malaysia, and Vietnam has officially ended. I am now back to my starting point: Hong Kong, on the morning of Sunday, January 21st, HK time. We are waiting to board on flight United 896 to San Francisco.

I have taken more than 600 photos (mostly b/c in Vietnam I didn't take more than 10 photos). This trip was purely devoted to seeing the sights and sounds of VN without standing behind a camera lens.

Since the beginning of our journey in VN, I've had the Four Horseman of the Apocalypse sitting on my chest. No fevers or chills, just a terrible, deep, hacking racking cough that seemed to tear out my lungs. Good news, though. My cold is almost gone.

Our last days in Vietnam included a trip to the beach city Nha Trang, where weather was cool, and the waters clear. The ride home on our bus was loooong, totaling at 13.5 hours from Nha Trang to Saigon. Although the trip was supposed to last only 8 hours, congested traffic and competitions with the free-ranging motorbikes prevented us from reaching our destination at the appointed time. Thus, we all ended up with pancake buttocks.

We arrived in Saigon at 7:30 p.m. and went directly to Que Huong Restaurant where we enjoyed dinner (buffet style) and conversation with some of the seminary students (UCC seminarians who attended class taught by M. in Cambodia in March). Afterwards, I took a ride around downtown w/ Bu, who drove me on the motorbike to Nha Tho Duc Ba and to the Buu Dien. We also purchased durian (sau rieng) for the last time (40,000vnd per kilo at 2.8 kilos for one durian)!! It was DELICIOUS.

Although we missed the opportunity to eat xoi bap (made w/ hominy), we really did enjoy the wonderful fruit.

After cleaning up and repacking for the final trip home, we closed our eyes for some rest at 1:30 a.m. and got up at 2:30 a.m. to check-out. We departed from Dong Phuong hotel at 3:00 a.m. and arrived in plenty of time for our flight at 6:30 a.m.

It is a wonderful thing to be able to use regular restrooms again. I have missed them terribly. It has been suggested that I produce some sort of writing related to our missing "American standard."

Some possibilities:

1. A dictionary of terms regularly used in reference to WCs


2. A picture book w/ large-print descriptions


3. A how-to guide


4. A short story


5. A prose poem

I must also apologize to many of my friends in VN for not being able to reach you. We did really travel non-stop the entire time we were there, and the borrowed cell phone battery only lasted about one day, so it was difficult to contact everyone. It is not possible for me to apologize enough to everyone, and I can only say, the next coffee is on me! Cafe sua da, va co le them mot vai khoai tay chien... yumm!

Next post from HAT shall be from the humble abode in Berkeley.

HAT in SEA

Have been traveling since January 6th. Spent some time in Hong Kong. NOTHING purchased as gift. Spent time in Singapore. NOTHING purchased as gift. Spent time in Malaysia. Purchased in one sitting over $100 worth of batik. C'est la vie.

So much to see, so little time to blog. Even less time to write emails. Ate too much. Pants do not fit. Had to purchase extra big batik skirts in order to fit around expanding waistline.

Have taken almost 600 photos so far. Memory card only halfway full. Many, many gallery photos to be posted - soon.

Have eaten and seen so far:
rat noodles
sea cockroaches
pig ears
deer head
thousand-year old ginseng, worth 1.5 million HK dollars
blood clams

Have visited and conversed with:
3 theological seminaries (faculty, staff, students of STM, TTC, and Chung Chi)
4 church groups
4 social activist/ human rights groups
more than 10 sight seeing locations

Gang is well, except for one person, Baby, who is rather dehydrated, and has taken ill. Two professors have been running amok w/ details and currency exchange figures. All are well-fed and happy.

Much, much more to come...

Sinking, sinking, sinking...

It's only 18 more days... until I'll be heading to Southeast Asia with a group of seminarians from PSR as part of an Immersion course during InterSession. The group will be traveling for 2 weeks (from 06Jan to 21Jan) visiting Hong Kong, Singapore, Malaysia, and Vietnam. This trip will allow us to explore theology, religion, culture, and history in context - hence the term contextual learning. A ha. We'll be visiting various sites of religious significance and theological colleges. We'll engage in cross-cultural and multi-relgious dialogue. We'll meet with seminarians, pastors, theologians, etc. It will be interesting to see for ourselves the socio-historical contexts of each of these places - Malaysia and Vietnam are countries with complex histories of colonialism and religious pluralism. How will be engage in dialogue? How will we react? What will be the frameworks -- the lenses of analysis -- that will enable us to engage in meaningful conversation with our counterparts? We'll be defining and re-defining boundaries. We'll be stretched beyond our comfort zones. We'll be asked to speak about our private and public experiences. We'll need to redefine the boundaries of private and public.

And we have 18 days to prepare.

South East Asia Immersion Course

In January 2007, I will be joining a group of seminarians at the Pacific School of Religion on their Intersession trip to Southeast Asia. We will begin our trip on January 6th and return to the U.S. on January 21st. The itinerary of the trip will take us from San Francisco to Hong Kong, to Singapore, to Kuala Lumpur, then to Saigon.

From the Course Description:
While Vietnam and Malaysia are both post-colonial Southeast Asian nations with a long history of colonial domination, they have very distinctive socio-cultural, political, and religious realities. This travel seminar seeks to introduce participants to the religious landscapes in these two distinctive contexts. Attention will also be given to the study of theology in Malaysia and Vietnam. There will also be short visits to theological institutions & sight-seeing opportunities in Hong Kong and Singapore. The seminar counts as a contextual learning course for PSR M.Div. students by providing experiences for cross-cultural and multi-relgious encounters and exchanges, as well as immersion in the cultures and everyday life of peoples and local communities in the regions which we will be visiting.

The trip will be an opportunity to visit the religious sites of these various locations to understand the cultural contexts of theology, religion, politics, economics, etc. in these places.

My particular interest in this trip includes the opportunity to research about places of religious significance being used/advertised as tourism sites. What are some of these sites? Where are they located? What similarities and differences can we note between these sites? Why are they of interest? Who visits them? What are the demographics of the groups that often frequent these sites? How do we define "religious sites"? Who advertises these sites? How do they manipulate the PR of these locations? What makes them so appealing? Who makes them so appealing? Why are they so appealing? What makes the difference between the interest of the locals and that of the tourists?