Usha on the GO!

noreply@blogger.com (Usha) — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 15:45:00 +0000

USHA *hearts* MELBOURNE MANY MANY!!!

And it has only been the third day....

Destination Next!

noreply@blogger.com (Usha) — Sun, 15 Jan 2012 08:50:00 +0000

15 days into the new year and I am leaving for....

Image: amazingaustralia.com.au

Yep, that's right!

I'm heading down under.

A train. A bus. Two Flights.

And I'll be in Melbourne. Exciting Innit? Of course it is! So I Google-d Melbourne, Australia to see the kinda images Google churns out.

Common ones included...

Melbourne Docklands

and...

and a little sea breeze along....

Great Ocean Road

It gets better!

Now that's something!

Add a little music to it.

I can't wait to explore. (:

2011 was an Experiment.

noreply@blogger.com (Usha) — Sat, 31 Dec 2011 05:24:00 +0000

Days before 2011 begun, I made resolutions. Half of which yet to be completed. Largely because 2011 was a short, short year. I didn't have time. And they say, whoever that was, time waits for no one. And it certainly didn't wait for me to play catch up.

Sometimes I just wanna do EVERYTHING :))

A year that was highly experimental on my part. I took plunges on a whim, risked things just so curious to find out what laid around the corner. I went on a trip of a lifetime, took up a job only to realize it was not my cup of tea or coffee for that matter. Met some incredible people in the most unlikeliest of situations. Turned 24 and simultaneously realized nothing has changed. The list goes on...

Now tomorrow this time, all that happened would be considered to be in "the past year".

I hope to enter 2012 with an open mind. Which would also explain my lack of resolutions.

Void of expectations.

I'm gonna take things as they come. The voyager sails on...Happy 2012!

PS: Let's prove the Mayans wrong. ;-)

Back on Track

noreply@blogger.com (Usha) — Thu, 24 Nov 2011 07:47:00 +0000

Guess its official.

I will be spending my summer on the roads not literally though. That's a fine change there.

Unlike most of my other expeditions, where I lug my backpack on the streets only to chuck them temporarily into hostels.

And later retrieving them for guess what, I found a cheaper hostel.

Anyways, thanks to an awesome friend and her equally awesome hubby for taking me in, (and possibly cooking for me as well :-p) for a full month.

A bit about my hosts:

We have been friends for donkey years now. She got married early this summer and moved. And yes, a few months into moving in, I decided to invade their privacy.

They recently also adopted a pair of kittens aka my god kits: Pebbles and Buttons. :) Fun!

They have a fully functioning washing machine.

A washroom whereby I am pretty sure there's ample hot water and toilet rolls.

Now that's pretty luxurious already. O.o

SurREALITY

noreply@blogger.com (Usha) — Wed, 28 Sep 2011 17:08:00 +0000

Life is so very good right now, its almost unreal.

What on earth happened that I feel like I may have sprouted a pair of wings?

Open heart surgery happened.

It was my first surgery. OK not "my" surgery. But the first ever time I actually witnessed a surgery.

LIVE!

One that will guarantee a patient another 10-12 years of his life.

I have heard stories of interns fainting upon seeing blood, feeling nauseous, etc. that I even informed before hand, that there is a possibility I might feel sick in my stomach.

No I didn't get oozy and wanted to puke all over the OR.

I wasn't turned off by the blood gushing out from the aorta, when the surgeon cut through it.

Turns out, I underestimated myself by THIS MUCH!

Oh well....

I had the time of my life!

On the hindsight, I did wish for other possibilities for recovery other than having to cut open one's heart. Its a brave decision on the patient's part to actually trust a doctor and allow him to cut open him.

Its traumatic to have to go through the process of deciding if I want my heart cut opened as much as I want to live. The latter wins by a landslide vote I guess.

However, during the actual surgery itself, I was leaning towards intrigue then emotional attachment towards the person lying before me.

It happened so quickly.

The transition from feeling the pain for the patient in the beginning to being fascinated by the exposed heart.

As Dr. Richard Selzer would put it,

Surgery is the red flower that blooms among the leaves and thorns that are the rest of medicine.

Acquaintances on the GO!

noreply@blogger.com (Usha) — Wed, 13 Jul 2011 08:45:00 +0000

Travelling is a brutality. It forces you to trust strangers and to lose sight of all that familiar comfort of home and friends. - Cesare Pavese

More than the material things I have owned, my ability to make small talk has paved the way for me to meet new people and enable to learn more from them.

I made friends in the shortest of circumstances.

Acquaintances were created in the most oddest of places.

As we jog-walked the climb down the Great Wall of China we met this couple whom, we never thought were a couple but just a couple of people who just can't get along. Throughout the walk they seemed to address each other in a manner whereby one would assume, one was not comfortable talking to the other. The lady was always grumbling about something, and the man was shooting pictures while the lady ranted. Soon because we weren't sure why these two were constantly bickering just blurted the question if they actually knew each other at all. Turns out they were a couple. And that was just the way they interacted.

Now Trish here, was a mother, an artiste and an avid traveler. Met her when I unintentionally disrupted her sleep as I was trying to get myself into bed in the dorm room. We were living in the same hostel and actually tackled the Great Wall together. She finished the task. We didn't. She is a painter by profession and takes keen interest in cultures and calligraphy. Compared to world heritage sites, tourist locations, she would attend gatherings, music events while she was in Beijing. Not sure if that is how she usually traveled. She was very informative and had lots to share about her hometown, a small town off Sydney.

Remember the trip I took back in Feb 2011? Well that probably included my largest first time meeting with strangers. I was willing to travel slightly less than quarter way off the world to circumnavigate India with 17 others I have never met. No Facebook interactions. No emails. All I had were 17 imaginary faces and voila the next thing I knew I was spending 24 hours, for the next 15 days with these guys. The above is just half the gang.

On the first night of our hostel stay in Hangzhou, I learned pool from these sisters from Shanghai. They were spending their weekend there. The younger one of the sisters who was teaching me (and perhaps also shook her head every time I messed it up) couldn't speak a word of English. As much pool skills I "imbibed", it was definitely a great interaction. We even tried jamming on the available guitars with our existing skills, which were definitely better than pool!

The night after pool, further friendships were formed between this eloquent Chinese who had no trouble conveying herself in English, and she has never left China before. She went by the name Summer, and definitely one of the better English speakers I have come across in China. She even shared with us how she took efforts to master the language just so it would allow here to interact with non-Chinese speaking people. I was floored. That never crossed my mind, every time I try to master Chinese. Still trying to be precise. The dude is a Korean who was backpacking around China before he returns home to join the University. He was hilarious. But you gotta be there to get his jokes.

The last of the friendships that were formed while on the go, was just last week when I was stranded at Hangzhou Airport. 100 over passengers who didn't know each other. All waiting for their flights and just getting ready to fall asleep became one stranded family who just can't wait to land in Singapore all within a span of 24 hours. We eventually started speaking to the one in the seat beside us. As we were told to leave the airbus, we made conversation to the one who was given a room beside us. And as time went, I knew 25% of the passengers on the aircraft.

I have a tendency to talk to the passenger beside me. I tend to ask where they are from or heading to. One of the main reason why I hardly pay attention to the safety procedures and prevent the person beside me from learning how to save their lives in crisis.

Anyways, before the flight took off, we had the shot taken to remind us how much the airline was a pain in the arse and the chances of us taking it again was slim if not non-existent. Bryant, the dude, was from Singapore, working in Hangzhou and Lisa, a German travelling around Asia. We have agreed to meet again in Singapore. See how that goes.On a side note: She had the most divine 120mm film camera that certainly got me thinking of getting my own one too!!!

Life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you gonna get - Forest Gump

Of course this does not end here. I have met more people then I have allowed myself to talk about here. I just haven't got pictures of these other people to share with you. In each of these places, I definitely met a few others besides the ones mentioned, who had lots of stories and interesting tidbits to share, that which will be up once I am able to source out a few faces to go with it.

7 Highly Probable Aftermaths For The Stranded Airline Passenger

noreply@blogger.com (Usha) — Fri, 08 Jul 2011 08:55:00 +0000

This is not for ANY stranded passenger, but particularly one who had no choice because the airline couldn't figure out what to do next to keep the crisis under control.

When discovered with a malfunctioned brake, you will be housed in a five-star hotel. Exactly! If you fly a kick ass airline, you probably paid for your room's worth when you bought the ticket. What I paid for, which by the way adheres to my rule of keeping within the budget, wouldn't even get me a room in a hotel on any normal day.

You would tell yourself you're gonna maximize the hotel's facilities, only to hit the sack the moment you see the pretty bed and clean sheets. I was suppose to get their breakfast, grab stuff that were actually free, bla bla. Only to doze off and wake up to a call telling me lunch has been arranged.

You spend more than 12 hours talking to people you just met. You guys will actually be whining on the same frequency. A group of us were a little upset over the delay, for some had conencting flights, others were just heading for a weekend trip and a day was gone already. I have missed flights. I have flights that left late. Never a flight that made me wait for an hour, later board and wait another hour inside the cabin and and a night for free in a hotel. Make it two nights.

One of the flights carried this. Is this common?

You run into the airline crew who are equally if not more clueless towards the predicament then you are. The crew had no idea of the updates we as passengers were receiving from various representatives. For some reason they were even surprised to know that we might be leaving earlier than them. Are we gonna travel without a crew then, you may ask. Thing is, I haven't got the slightest idea.

The carrier is so diverse you're left wondering...An Australian carrier filled with Singaporean crew, and with one of them actually sounding "Singlish" over the intercom.

You're bound to run into one of those travelers whom you thought never existed. One was almost left to be stranded on airport grounds for he had no visa. And all he had to say, with a straight face, as a matter-of-fact-look written all over it. "No one told us." Dude did you not do your research before packing your bag??? "I've never travelled before".

You learn to appreciate your foreign passport. This of course is not the nicest of things but guess what, if your aircraft experiences problems within the Chinese boundaries, and you're to be put up in a fancy hotel room, as an international passport holder you get a room to yourself. Whereas, the Chinese will have to share with the other Chinese travelers. As fun as it may sound, it still is a little biased but what can I say. I'm already being held for 48 hours when my journey itself is only 5 hours!!!

Hang(zhou)in' Around

noreply@blogger.com (Usha) — Tue, 05 Jul 2011 12:24:00 +0000

Hangzhou was a blast.

The hostel was a double blast and its occupants were amazingly friendly.

Not that I have spent days in millions of other hostels but definitely a million other hostels didn't quite provide me with the opportunity for an entire room of people to be interacting as though we had known the other for ages.

The repertoire was so good, I actually think I might visit the countries of my newly found friends just to meet them and learn more about their country and culture.

There was a dude from Syria, one from Holland, another from Korea and a couple from China. Girls were from China's various provinces, and there was Jan from Malaysia and me from Singapore.

I was there only for two nights and both nights were interesting.

The first night was spent learning pool which ended with the conclusion along the lines of usha-sucks-at-pool-more-than-anyone-on-Earth.

I told ya!

2nd night was when we really got to know the rest of the hostel mates (in our room) better and got to know what exactly these guys were doing and what else is awaiting them in the future.

Pictures I haven't got many. However, it is suffice to say my fellow travelers were an amazing lot.

And whoever said Wu Xi (West Lake) could be circumnavigated in 5 hours by foot was not in their right mind.

We took a freakin' 8 HOURS!

Bleah!

农村 (Village) Hospitality

noreply@blogger.com (Usha) — Mon, 27 Jun 2011 11:16:00 +0000

The flower's real by the way.

My couchsurfing host decided to host us in her parent's hometown, in the heart of a Chinese village. One I have yet to experience despite my three years residency in China. Shanghai lacks rural grounds.

A 3yuan bus ride from ZhongShan Lu (plus a 15 minute walk to the bus terminal) to where ever the village was located.

The trip ended more than an hour later, in what appeared to be an industrial area. A drastic contrast to Gulangyu and mainland Xiamen. Air pollution in this part of Xiamen was beyond hope. Either you breathe in the air with its pollution or just don't breathe. Which of course is not a wise move.

I wasn't as much bothered by the air than I was about my bursting bladder.

Note: If you have no idea how long a journey is gonna be, either visit the washroom before hand or avoid drinking in gallons.

Finding a washroom was a tedious task in itself. There were no motels or supermarkets or even street stalls with a dubious washroom hidden somewhere behind the shop.

Eventually what I thought was a clinic but turned out to be a mini hospital, allowed me to use their services. Travel, or specifically travelling through south asia has taught me to bring my own roll of toilet paper/wet wipes where I go.

So this time I was spared.

A little info about this hospital: If I ever get employed here would mean that half the time will be spent reading papers and painting nails. Least that was what I witnessed.

Just as I exited the hospital, my host arrived and we headed to her village. Her boss had brought his car, so we reached home real quick.

After some let-take-in-the-sights-of-nature and loads of "黑人" Black girl (I'm brown for the umpteenth time!), I decided to borrow a bicycle so that the villagers can also gasp at the weird looking girl riding a rusty bike, with a faulty right pedal and defunc brake.

This wasn't my makeshift "vespa". Almost there though..

Everytime we rode downhill I was expecting to crash into something at some point. Guess what I actually managed to kill 2 hours with that bike around the village roads plus having a conversation with this guy who came on a motorcycle, slowed down just to ask "你那个国家人" which country are you from？

My host was uber nice. So were her parents. They made sure we were well fed and our needs taken care of.

And we won't even speaking the same language!

Host on her bike

They cooked up an awesome meal using only vegetables and rice from their own farm. Ensure we had hot water for shower, breakfast the next day and a comfortable bed to rest our heads.

Chinese Cabbages I think.

They even insisted on giving us a lift back to the bus terminal.

The dad's face was just a little too far off.

Eventually they did just that.

It is not down in any map; true places never are. - Hermen Melville

I have a fetish for things that are usually ignored.

Of Punjab, Patriotism and Popcorn

noreply@blogger.com (Usha) — Thu, 23 Jun 2011 05:37:00 +0000

From Ahmedabad to Amritsar was the plan. And so the plan went ahead without any glitches. Everyone at some point would think Indian trains would delay and guess what, they didn't. Ok..maybe once. But in a span of 15 days with only one mistake? We can afford that, can't we.

I loved Punjab! I found it colorful. There was so much happening. And every other dude wore a turban. hehe.

After having been picked up by this driver to the hotel, which for some reason had a miserable water heater. 24 hours hot water supply we were told, but turned out to be something else altogether. After a quick shower, it was a ride to Wagah Border.

Talk about Indian Patriotism...

I witnessed it first hand at the at the India-Pakistan Border otherwise known as Wagah Border. One side was cheering for India screaming "Hindustan Zinadabad" and on the opposite side of the gate there were the Pakistani females screaming "Pakistan Zindabad".

Pakistani Crowds

It was interesting to notice that the Pakistani female exuded way more enthusiasm then their male counterparts did. Whereas, where we were on the Indian side, the entire crowd never stopped to take a breather between their "Vande Maataram" and "Jai Ho".

Initially what I assumed to be National songs but were actually just songs related to Patriotism kept playing on and on. Some of the Indian women sitting at the stands were invited to dance in the middle. Women of all ages went forward to showcase their rhythms.

The dancers

Some women even volunteered to carry the tricolor and ran with it to and fro from the border gate. 60 year olds in their saris, mothers with their kids all running with the tri color - Truly Impressivo!

Once the flag is ended over to them, the women can hardly stop smiling. even this particular elderly woman who jog-walked her way with the flag without expressing an form of weary. She was fairly old.

I am not very patriotic when it comes to my own country. I never felt the need to feel connected to where I was born and bred. Hence it was truly a different experience to see the Indians and their love for their nation.

I did consider volunteering to run with the flag and later decided against it, for I assumed only Indian nationals were allowed. Which I realized was not the case when I saw a white lady partake in the celebrations whilst I could have done it too.

I can pass for an Indian. Most certainly can.

And thats how they make popcorns in India

Whats Amritsar or even Punjab if one hasn't witnessed the famous Golden Temple?

That will be in the next post.

Adios!

Foiled Doesn't Mean The End...

noreply@blogger.com (Usha) — Fri, 17 Jun 2011 02:15:00 +0000

I DO NOT Plan!

Let's get that straight. However, I do have a few hopeful wishes that I would like to accomplish. They do not have a start or end date.

Just a "To Do List" that goes beyond the regular tasks of laundry, washing the dishes, keeping my desk neat, etc.

However, this summer I had one that went along the lines of "Lets go save some people!"

I was enthusiastic about it for not only was it medically related, I get to go to Kenya baby!

Mt. Kilimanjaro was a deciding factor too.

As it happens with pretty much 99% of our lives, somethings encounter unforeseen circumstances and we just gotta work around it.

I have worked overlooking these circumstances many a time, but this time I had reasons that wouldn't allow me to go ahead and stomp over the situation to get my ass on a flight to Kenya.

As it is, working around it has worked fairly well too.

I still get to use a bit of my medical knowledge and lots of PR skills I have to learn in aiding my Dad with his new venture.

The project is half way into its completion. Once it is time to reveal I'd reveal.

As of now, lets keep it under covers. For when the project first started, it appeared easy. Did I just use the word "easy"? Well at least from my point of view, thousands of miles away from home it did indeed appeared like a fairly simple thing to finish.

I should known that "nothing comes easy". And so the same task is now Herculean.

To summarize, Dad needs a little help and I'm heading back home to 'sunny' island Singapore.

But, I manage to talk mom into taking a short trip to Malaysia.

And of course I'm gonna hang around Hangzhou for

To visit any one Chinese city during my holidays is also on the To-Do list!

An Inconvenient Truth

noreply@blogger.com (Usha) — Mon, 13 Jun 2011 10:17:00 +0000

While walking the Streets of New Delhi, in search of this particular cafe which owns itself to this qoute:

"Alot can happen over coffee".

As much as we remembered the slogan, the name of the coffee house was not so much embedded in our memory. Least not mine.

The thing about walking on the streets of India, if you are not brown, you invite alot of attention. Some are curious and just eager to be your friends. Others are just trying their best to appear cool.

I was not walking alone but with two other friends who were Australian females and one of them was actually 6ft!

As this guy in shades and bright orange shirt passed between me and the tall girl, he really had to say

"What's up Babe!".

Now all there was to break that otherwise purely casual remark was the heavy Indian accent that came with it. He could have gone with a regular hi, but the whole swagger was just...You do the math.

When we finally managed to get into a rickshaw

And Just when you think, guess that was all the attention there was, comes another curly haired dude enquring if the tall girl was German cos she was just so tall.

"Vhere are you from? German?".

And since we kinda lost and need directions, and this guy was already making conversations, the supposed "German" decided to seek his help.

Was that a bad move? Not exactly. But he never stopped talking and never left us till the very end!

"Oh Oh! You can't go there today, it is closed for protests march. There is a tourist help point ahead, you can seek them for a map. Do you like our country? I vill help you then vill you only know that aver country and its people are nice. Vill you then go back and say nice things about India."

And she was nodding head and walking really quickly I was finding it hard to keep up. The more she tried to veer away from him and his conversation he would start repeating,

"Hello! I am not expecting anything. I just want to help so you get good feeling about India".

He honestly was trying to help. Just a little too enthusiastic.

Some political protests and vehicles were blocked.

The conversation, to me, as a spectator was entertaining and amusing. For the many times I visited India, I never realized how foreigners were being approached. I look Indian so hardly anyone ever walked up to me and started making random conversations.

The fact that I appeared Indian was further reiterated, albeit in a not so flattering manner, when the guy finally decided to leave before turning to say to me

"You're Indian na? Vhy I am saying this is, you look like me."

Date with Gulangyu continues...

noreply@blogger.com (Usha) — Sun, 12 Jun 2011 16:19:00 +0000

Cafes, Cafes and more Cafes.

And yes of course if you're into seafood (that which I ain't), there's a whole rand of sea creatures from massive lobsters to pearl giving clams.

The pearls were replaced with something say..more edible?

They were on the grill so yeah, no one picked them up to hear for waves

Onto what we really accomplished today. Well...

We traversed some steep slopes, me in my flip flops and on lotsa Chinese women in their platforms and on rarer occasions, stilettos!

We went all the way up just to climb down again for no apparent reason. The number of times I actually lost myself in this tiny island is beyond me.

On the way down, we visited 'ZhengCheng Gong', some awesome (according to Jan) official's memorial who played a significant role in China-Taiwan politics.

Zhieng xiansheng himself!

His memorial involved intricately designed murals, that I can only describe to the best of my ability for even a quick, discreet shot was conspicuous to the guards eyes. We were told off not once but twice "NO PHOTOS PLEASE".

Sigh!

We exited or you could say we sensed his potential move to chase us out.

While soaking in the sights and learning about new stuff is great and exciting, the stomach should never be neglected. Hunger should be taken care off immediately. Especially for a vegetarian.

For the most part we tend to skip meals or eat random junk food to satiate our hunger since meat-less dishes can no where be found. And explaining to someone that sea creatures were once alive and so I don't eat them; can be a tedious task, I'd rather chew on my apple.

Fried Tofu with Chilli powder and pepper

Nevertheless there were a few dishes in Gulangyu that were vegan friendly. Breakfast thankfully have always been vegan friendly. Despite the overwhelming availability of seafood, they have yet to be accustomed with tuna ~~bread~~ pao or any other fish for that matter as breakfast. Which of course, worked well for me.

Dough/Bao fusion with mushrooms and soy meat

I have been filling my tummy with lotsa noodles, bubble tea, vegan snacks and Mochi. Talking about mochi, there was this particular stall run by an old couple and man they make amazing mochi. It WAS THE BEST I have come across. I actually went "hmmm.." which made quite a few uneasy but that's not the point. It was so good I went back to get more. The sugar and the peanut butter combination was done perfectly to complement each other with having to taste uber sweet.

It has been in existence since 1987, as the small cut outs, and news paper articles on the mini mobile stall testified.

We boarded a what-should-have-been a short cable car ride but was instead very long, for it was moving slower than my granny's jog. And when the number of cars increased on a single cable, and the ones before us were yet to reach the end, our car stops mid air.

Yes, for about 10 seconds, we were suspended in mid air.

Jan who is afraid of heights started singing Church songs.

Having been suspended in air, made her feel closer to God I think.

Hallelujiah!

Gulangyu: Its smaller than Singapore. Ha!

noreply@blogger.com (Usha) — Fri, 03 Jun 2011 03:16:00 +0000

Fly China Fly!

Gulangyu, the island that houses about 200, 000 or less people and perhaps lots more seafood. The island is situated a short distance away from Xiamen mainland. This same distance can be covered with the aide of a 5 minute ferry ride from Xiamen. Interesting thing is, to head over to Gulangyu, the ferry carries no charge. However, on your return journey there is a charge of 8yuan.

Xiamen Island from Gulangyu

Well...They expect you to return from the tiny island at some point. However, its free of charge, if you take the ferry ride between 10pm till 12mn.

And thats probably because, they are not responsible for your safety in the dark.

It was abandoned and I almost entered for a "Haunted Adventure" :D

The place reminded me so much of my previous trip to Yangshuo, Guilin. All for the following reasons of course;

Tourists (mostly locals from other regions and Chinese from South East Asian Nations
Narrow streets cluttered with cute little shops and cafes with stuff carrying exorbitant price tags
Shops open late and close late: Supper is a huge deal!!

Quaint alleyway leading to a vintage stall

Shops lit up the street after 6pm, and street food stalls ranging from mini tables arranged onto the already narrow streets to middle age men or women pushing a mobile stall filled with desserts, fruit juices, fried tofu, ah yes and the famous dead creatures of the sea.

Loads of vintage shops and an odd looking Indian dress stall. Even the name of the stall was written in Chinese with Hindi fonts. How they managed that, I never found out. Unlike famous Bollywood stars covering the walls of the shops, it had a massive poster of a young Chinese lady dressed in anything and everything that screamed Indian giving a simple yet stern smile. She looked good actually.

The stall sold a range of summer dresses and skirts with symbolic patterns of elephants, mangoes all in the colors of orange, yellow, red, etc. Stereotypical or what?!

Lotsa newly weds were on the island having their pictures taken for the backdrop in this place was definitely very different from the rest of China. Most of the buildings here were once owned by the British during their rule on this island. The architecture still remains for it just moderately revamped into cafes, inns and hotels for tourism. Otherwise, many of these buildings, including a massive Trinity Church built by a Phillipino have traits of European architecture in them.

I call this 'Gulangyu Square'. Don't ask for the original name.

Jan and myself checked into a budget stay hotel which was kinda off the main street, away from the sea-views but closer and perhaps amongst the daily lifestyle of the Gulangyu commoner. Yes, our hotel was situated near the wet markets, the mahjong get together venue for over 60 year old men, shops with old style television mend by old couples selling basic necessities, you name it we were right beside it. There weren't exactly touristy spots but neither were entirely uninteresting.

It provided us a glimpse of the way of life on this side of town, which albeit the language (they speak Hokkien, a Chinese dialect) were very similar to the average Chinese lifestyle.

From walking and more walking, what did I discover? No cars or bicycles are allowed on this island. Yes, they believe in being highly eco-friendly. Even the postcards were made of recycled material.

Their roads have a interesting feel to them.

However, they have recently introduced the tourist buggies which is kinda useful for tourists who have difficulty walking long hours. Otherwise, the cheap, best and possibly the only option to navigate your way around this 2km square island is by Number 11 aka as feet.

Every corner, every little cafe, has a thread with polaroids.

Advantages include loads of good photography moments, on the lookout for unique gifts as souvenirs, or even long summer dresses. Its like a trend here. Every single girl has a long colorful dress and a over the top sometimes simple summer hat even. After a while, one girl turns out to look like the other. After all these things are mass produced and this is a tiny island.

Massive Octopus at the entrance of "Underwater World"

When they run outta seafood for tourists to devour, and a storm is brewing around the island....

I think the "Underwater World" is a perfect back-up plan. :)

Jami Masjid, Ahmedabad

noreply@blogger.com (Usha) — Sun, 08 May 2011 05:56:00 +0000

From Dwarka, the next stop was Ahmedabad still within the larger state of Gujarat.

Now this time the journey was both tiring and perhaps a mild stench was emanating for some of us haven't had a chance to shower in two days. Well, if we all smell the same way who cares right?

I can explain where the people have disappeared. It was early morning.

From the train walked to the first class waiting area, dumped our bags headed to explore the city with that couple of hours we had. First stop, Jami Masjid in the heart of a bustling city.

From afar, it appeared as if the Hindu Sadus were at the mosque clad in orange.

Carvings on the wall

It ends at some point.

Entrance

Take a good look at the following shot. What do you see?

Arabic Calligraphy

Before someone tells me that the Arabic calligraphy ought to be rotated and is displayed inaccurately, allow me to clarify. You are right. I deliberately shot it that way. For to view the original writing you have to tilt your head to your left. However, in the position it is now displayed it resembles a picture.

Does it not look like a person, preferably a waiter carrying a tray and floating towards your left?

Casper Style.

Krishna's Dwarka

noreply@blogger.com (Usha) — Sat, 16 Apr 2011 12:07:00 +0000

As we boarded the first train, that would officially kick-start the Great Circular Indian Railway Challenge 2011, we were all set to leave Mumbai towards Dwarka; amongst the dry lands of Gujarat.

Largely undeveloped, this part of India depicted a stark contrast to the technology improvements that cities such as Bangalore or Hyderabad have embraced. Small streets narrow streets, houses amongst empty lands, and foreigners were looked upon as aliens, In a good way.

Hardly anyone visits this part of India and it was visible from the handful of motels and lack of any elaborate restaurants except small shops and streets. There was this one street which just uber crowded from the desolete surrounding areas. This area sold a whole range of things and there was a particular crowd that were dancing to music and carrying baskets of flowers.

Holy Bollywood Grooves

It was a procession heading towards this immaculate and beautiful Krishna Mandir. Having caught amongst the parade, one of us (Emily) had the chance to carry the flower basket on her head and groove to the tunes that came out of sound systems that could very well go with the term ancient. These baskets filled with a type of yellow flowers were considered sacred and held the flag to the Krishna Temple. Having the opportunity to carry it for a distance is considered lucky among the devotees.

The procession

Every two hours, the basket changes hands for another would be endowed with the same chance to carry the basket.

A brief history about the temple that the devotees of Dwarka were so attached to:

Krishna Mandir

The temple was constructed on the idea that after Krishna killed his maternal Uncle (for a particular reason that the driver who was with us had difficulty comprehending) he settled in Dwarka. I'm assuming the temple was built as his homeage to this place. A sign to signify Krishna's permanent migration to Dwarka.

Upon entering the Mandir, I realised how different the idols were compared to the depiction of the same Lord Krishna down in South India. I would have never been able to guess this was a temple for Krishna if I was not informed.

Pretty miserable Indian roots I carry with me.

Off Wheels

noreply@blogger.com (Usha) — Sat, 09 Apr 2011 11:36:00 +0000

An Indian Wedding

It started off with my participation in an Indian wedding. It was my cousin’s. What was supposed to be my watch- and- be -impressed with Indian weddings, ended up being on-stage with my cousin. Not quite what I had in mind.

One would think, least I did, that wearing jewelry would invite looks. Man, I invited quite a few stares for not wearing any. Indian aunts and grannies offered to part with their chains so that “my neck wouldn’t appear bare”.I’m sorry what?

Did I mention Indian weddings can actually last a week?

I was told that my cousin’s three day affair was actually short. Good Lord!

Then again, I am glad it was a huge event else I will never have been able to witness an Indian wedding first hand. By the way, not all Indian weddings take place the same way. Well obviously given the number of states and the diversity of India.

The one I attended followed the Telugu customs. Specifically the Naidus. During the climax of the wedding, the part where the groom ties the sacred thread; was performed with a cloth between the groom and bride. Interesting aye. I was told about its significance, but as time went the information dissipated from my memory. Oops!

Did you know there were pre and post wedding events?

I didn’t. I hardly ever attend weddings. And the ones I have attended, ended within three hours or less. Not this one. One of the post wedding events was a visit to a remote temple in the heart of a South Indian village.

Both the names of the temple and the village were quite a mouthful. But that’s not the point. The temple was built for a deity or otherwise known as a guardian-deity. Can you actually say that? I just coined the term, I’m not sure if it exists. Anyways, the fact that the deity’s responsibilities is the well being of the people, the temple lies in the out skirts of a village. Makes sense innit.

The groom’s family are closely affiliated with the temple hence they tend to visit the temple, after every successful occasion, as a way of saying thank you to the deity.

Besides weddings, Indians celebrate everything. I’m not kidding. There was an ear piercing ceremony for a young kid and they even shaved his head.

The parents didn’t cut his hair since birth; all for this day: To shave his head bald and get his ears pierced. And between all of these, stuff a banana in his mouth hoping that would distract him. Ok…

The lady on the left was the official “ear-piercer”.

She was not using the pierce gun but a freaking needle! One that she would heat before piercing (read: hurting) the 3 year old’s ears. I swear she was aggressive but many would disagree with me. Sighs!

More Temples

What’s a trip to India if you haven’t seen enough temples right?

At every step of the way, at every corner street stood a temple. Be it one with its towering height, and intricate designs or a simple hut with a deity sitting inside. The numbers were baffling. The bigger, grander temples were the most intriguing. With its cool interior despite the sweltering heat outside, and the history behind its architecture was just pure amazement.

Govindaa! Go-vin-daa!

Venky requires a post of his own, but remember how I didn’t wanna bore you guys to death with my long winded-ness? Hey, I hear you say, as if this post was any shorter but seriously I have summarized it to the best of my ability. Sobs.

Venky is a rich God. People donate their wealth to this deity. I was glad the money was put to good use, for the accommodation provided and the surrounding areas and areas within the temple were kept relatively clean. Infrastructures to aid devotees were well constructed too.

That was when I noticed these see through walls within the temple: the men behind the walls were counting cash! Loads of them! It was pouring cash in this part of India. Will someone please enlighten the poor souls begging on the streets about this place please!

It was literally raining money and… hair, due to devotees shaving their heads for one or another religious reason related to Venky. Meeting Venky was a tedious task. I had to shove and push people. Shout Govinda and later push through the crowds before me. It appeared as if people were shouting “Govinda” to get the adrenaline running before they exert their strength on the dude infront. Wonder how Venky feels about this? Sorry Govinda.

What I also realized, after I mastered the art of being Indian was that I hardly made eye contact with Venky. The entire union with throngs of other Indians between me and Venky, around me and Venky, lasted less than 2 minutes.

After the main viewing, which was twice, thanks to a certain privilege endowed by cousin’s father-in-law, we proceeded for a particular Unjal Utsav. What happens here is that Venky is brought in a chariot, and later transferred to a swing in a room filled with mirrors. The priest slowly pushes the swing creating a momentum for it. The scene is, devotees get to see Venky while he is relaxing with his two spouses on the swing. The comedian in this scene was this other priest at the entrance of the room going “Govinda Cepu! Govinda Cepu” at all who entered.

I mean why? Dude! Venky is resting. I don’t wanna go all Govinda on him now.

Oh well…

Post was first published as !ncredibly India - Off Wheels on GingerChai.com.

Mumbai Meri Jaan

noreply@blogger.com (Usha) — Wed, 06 Apr 2011 13:29:00 +0000

Introduction

16 others I have never met before. All with the same purpose: Great Circular Indian Railway Challenge 2011. Witnessing events, people and passing through 180 cities. Literally crashing into millions of Indians, of varying shades of brown (not racist being here, I blend in pretty well actually), language and traditions. No doubt diversity equates to India.

The Indian Chauffeur

Mumbai Taxiwallah: Mr. Sushant Singh

Could it be a marketing gimmick?

Mr. Singh actually said, my stuttering, grammatically incorrect hindi, randomly strung words from Bollywood hindi was impressive.

Unless, like I said my understanding of the language was so poor the comment he gave with a smile sounded along the lines of 'impressive'.

2 days later I learn, I was ripped off. I paid 450 rupees for a 200++ trip from Santa Cruz to Churchgate. There I was all excited to explore one of the most densely populated cities of the Indian subcontinent only to be cheated on my arrival itself.

On a positive note, he never failed to point out sights that I might have otherwise missed. Yeah, yeah I hear you go an extra 200 bucks for pointing out sights is largely over rated. Lets just say, I would like to think I was not cheated and that probably Sushant is an otherwise honest man.

I forgive that dude.

Reached Chateau Windsor, where it was fully booked and I ended up hanging at the roof top terrace with my newly made friends and travel companions for the next 17 days.

All 17 squeezed into a single cabin (Image by Troy Floyd)

Pre-trip pose with half the gang (Image by Troy Floyd - the dude in the front)

Drama Begins

We were greeted to a band organizer by our own Ryan, a Mumbai native, and an unofficial guide for us. The band started playing Indian film songs that (I think) was pictured with trains in the background. 2 songs and the trip's organiser, Mark, started showing his Bollywood moves. What next? A crowd had formed around him and the band.

Mark with the band

Soon, a man wearing khaki uniform joined the crowd. Not to dance, but to stop it.

"Not allowed to play music!"

He was the Railway Inspector, and apparently dancing at the entrance of the railway station is not allowed. While he was making his point across, some of us had started taking videos and photos of the drama which prompted him to wave his arms at us to stop recording the scene.

Funny how location matters for dance and music, considering this was India. Interesting.

Reluctantly, the crowd and us together with the band were beginning to disperse when Rachael showed up. She was the reporter from Times of India covering the trip. There she was with her professional photographer.

Now, how do we get the Inspector to believe that this girl was actually writing for Times of India? She was English.

Either way, we managed to get a photo shot for the paper (which never appeared for some reason), together with the crowd, and the now silent Band.

Pretty eventful.

Now the 150 rupees shouldn't go to waste right, the band was herded towards the exterior of the station, far from where the uniformed men were. Settled somewhere along the roads, right infront of a parked bus, the band started playing. Stares we invited many. Crowds we invited many.

Mark was urging us to join in and dance as he was already grooving to the trumpets and drums, while the remaining dudes and dudettes were busy with their cameras.

Don't you love their uniforms?

The Kashmiri

noreply@blogger.com (Usha) — Sun, 13 Mar 2011 10:59:00 +0000

Face of Kashmir, India

As I took her photograph, not once did she flinch or blink. She stared right into the camera. One of my favorite shots of the many I took during my stint in India last month.

Nothing Interesting

noreply@blogger.com (Usha) — Tue, 01 Feb 2011 05:36:00 +0000

Finally was able to change the template. Not because, technology was on the opposite side but more towards the fact, I LOVED my previous template. Well 2011 should come with changes, shouldn't it?

Hence the final outlook which is kept minimal. :-)

It can't get any better!

noreply@blogger.com (Usha) — Tue, 18 Jan 2011 12:28:00 +0000

16 Jan, 7:15am

I reached the Bus station that should take me to Hangzhou City, Xiao Shan Airport from Shanghai. Turns out, they had no services in the morning or in the early afternoon.

Weird! How can I be holding onto a flight ticket that is to depart in the afternoon and no possible services to transport me from my current location to the airport.

After what was an eternity of discussion with the receptionist in her "amazing" English and my equally "amazing" Chinese, she gave me an alternative solution. Which was not direct, and she had no idea if the other location even had services that would get me to my destination. Either way, I had very little time and decided to take the shot.

"You take Bus 144 to Shanghai Nan Huozhe Zhan. But not Huozhe Zhan, You take Bus to Hangzhou City. But, that bus will not go to Airport. You take taxi to Airport."

"Okay. So how do I know which is my stop or where the bus station is? How long does this local bus take to get to Shanghai Railway Station? And how long is the duration from Shangahi to Hangzhou?"

"Errr. You alight 40 mins later. Its the last station. And from there you take the 3 hour bus ride to Hangzhou city".

I thanked her and saw the bus 144 just as I left my current location. Boarded 144, had a free 40 minute ride, for I forgot to pay and no one realized.

Possibly the only good thing that happened that day.

As I reached my destination and alighted, I literally took a 360 degrees turn to take in my location. No point, I had no idea where I was. She told me not to take the train ride to Hangzhou and I couldn't find the city-city bus station anywhere.

Heck her!

I gave up and walked towards the Railway station and located the counter that sold tickets for that day. And bought myself a last min "no seater" or better known as a "standing class" for a two hour ride to Hangzhou.

The ticket was only 29RNB and that is way cheap than I assumed or my initial city bus ride which is 100RNB.

I stood the full 2 hours crammed between Chinese men, women, children, elderly you name it and they were there. Chinese and their big ass baggages. Chinese and their love for instant noodles. Chinese and their amazing way of being able to hold over a hundred people in a cabin that could only hold say 60?

I have to admit, although a little uncomfortable for later I couldn't feel my legs, I finally got my taste of the real China.

Did I mention I felt famous? Yes, I was the only foreigner if not brown skin passenger so I got free stares for the entire 2 hours. Cameras were the only things missing.

When I finally got away from the clutches of China's population, I had to battle with the remaining Chinese men who were at the exit of Hangzhou train station, waiting to grab you and show you around Hangzhou. They were not as persuasive as the ones in Shanghai. That was a relief.

I finally got into a taxi that resembled the legal ones in Shanghai. However, I wasn't too sure when I finally settled into. Actually I am still not sure if the cab ride was legal or I was cheated.

As I chucked my bag in the back seat, and popped in beside the driver, he started off saying, "A flat rate of 120RNB for a ride to the airport".

I pointed at the meter, which had a receipt dangling from it.

"What's wrong with the meter?"

And he started explaining how they don't use the meter, cos people wait hours for cabs and they aren't many cabs.

I have no idea how the two things are related.

Along the journey, he stopped when this lady was flagging down the cab and asked where she was headed. And I remembered as I was waiting in line for a cab, two ladies who didn't know each other were sent to take the same cab as their destination was the same.

So basically, the meter is redundant. Or I just had a ride in an illegal cab.

Either way, the driver was a friendly guy who spoke bits of English and told me to improve my Mandarin. He even gave me career advice on how I should switch from Western Medicine to Chinese Medicine as it brings in more cash in China.

Finally the Airport came into sight, I stashed the cash into his hands, grabbed my backpack dashed out.

Only to realize my flight was not on the departure screen.

I approached the information counter to enquire of my missing flight. She punched in a few digits on her telephone and returned to me with this:

"There is only flight for this airline and it flies off at 1135pm".

"That is not possible. I have a flight for 210pm. Are you telling me the flight has been postponed to 1135pm".

"I do not think so. You need to check with your agent with the mix up".

"There is no agent. I booked my flight online".

I showed her mu itinerary with full confidence that the airlines made a mistake.

She dialed the same numbers again. She told them of my booking number and they exchanged a few words in Chinese and she later looked at me with a smile.

Aha. The hope that reiterated my confidence.

"Ma'am, you booked your flights for February 16th".

"huh".

I grabbed the sheet of paper from her hands (I later apologized) and just stared at it for a good 10 seconds before my palm reached for my forehead.

Feb 16, 0210pm.WTF.

16 Jan, 1250pm

I was tired from not sleeping the previous night or the night before. I was tired from standing against the wall with my 13kg backpack at my feet and my other leg jammed behind a door to maintain my balance from falling on any Chinese or having any one falling on me.

I dumped my bags onto the baggage trolley thingys and started walking around the world-newest-and probably-boringest-airport aimlessly. I wanted to still use the ticket but the lady at the counter had no idea however she did say "probably can't".

Thing with Chinese, they never say "I do not know" they just give tell you it cannot be done. More often than not, there is an alternative.

But instead, I took her word for it and started considering other routes. A flight to Hong Kong was leaving in 30 minutes, but I was short of 900 bucks. Credit card got declined so lets just leave it at that.

Back to Square one.

The airline I bought the ticket before will only open their counters two hours before departure. I was left with no choice but to camp at the airport for over 10 hours.

There I sat, staring at my ticket, hoping something would take shape and tell me "You can leave now and won't have to stare into space for the next half of the day".

I tend to forget my room mate's advice to only print the itinerary and not the whole thing, cos that would mean the 4 sheets of rules get printed as well and people don't actually read these things. Least, I never did. Till that day.

"Changes to this booking can be made up to 48 hours before departure".

The mantra finally worked.

I was way too tired to get all cranky and worked up, I only had two words running through my mind: Think Usha. Think..

There was no wireless facility at the international departures. And I hadn't brought my laptop with me to actually use the facility at the Domestic departures either.

No point there.

My local pre paid card ran outta cash and I had start roaming with my Singapore number.

Blackberry saves the day.

Started using GPRS (which will eventually cost me much), to long onto the website. Sadly, I couldn't make changes from the mobile site and the main site wouldn't load. I called a few numbers directly.

China: "No English Please. I do not understand English. Only Chinese or Cantonese". I hung up.

The lady said that in English. My Chinese will only worsen the existing situation and the last thing I wanna do is make flight changes in Chinese.

The next hotline was for Hong Kong. Same thing. Followed by Singapore. Slightly different but same dead end nonetheless.

"Our operators are currently busy. Please try again later". Hung up again.

Finally I called the home nation of the airlines and simply stalked them till someone took my call. My temptation to cut to the chase while she was saying stuff I was barely paying attention to was overwhelming. Eventually, I figured it was not that I was not paying attention but the female on the other line had a problem enunciating her words. I just didn't understand her.

"Sorry but I don't quite get you". I repeated this a million times throughout the conversation before I stopped. I sensed the onset of annoyance in her voice. Even her "thank you for waiting ma'am" sounded sinister.

Or maybe it was just me.

Either it didn't jeopardise the situation. She changed my flight for 16 January and told me to pay a couple hundred bucks extra for the changes made.

Phew!

The rest of the day I spent my time reading Shantaram and observing people entering and leavin the airport.

(Story doesn't quite end there actually)

16 Jan, 9:35pm

The ticketing counters finally opened and I paid my cash and saw my new itinerary.

Oh wow!

I had an hour 15 mins to check out from the first flight, grab my baggage and check into my connecting flight to Singapore. My baggage will not be directly transferred whereas the lady over the phone said, it would.

I told you I barely understood her.

Least the friendly dude at the counter, checked my backpack into premium so that it will be the first few to appear on the baggage carousel.

17 Jan, 4:25am

My flight should have landed at Kuala Lumpur International Airport but instead has been delayed.

Am I the only one who thinks this is a problem. Everyone else is just sleeping.

My hand reached for my hair when realization hit.

My glasses were missing.

In the dark, I was searching but to no avail. I am almost blind without my glasses during the day. And in the dark, you can might as well assume I am blind.

I turned to the Indonesian girl and said who by the way is uber nice. "I dropped my glasses.".

Why I said that I have no idea. She got the hint and that is what that matters.

"Lets search together she said. She used the light from her mobile and voila she found my glasses under my seat". :-)

My saviour. I would have swore I saw her cape flying behind her as she swore into the night skies.

And we started talking and she was also a student in Shanghai. I was telling her about my connecting flight and that I probably would have to move fast so please give me way. She laughed.

17 Jan, 5am

Flight landed 35 minutes later. Plane came to a stop and people started standing and removing their bags from the overhead compartments. I took mine, bade farewell to the Indonesian and started using the words "Please" "Thank You" "I'm late" "Please make way, I'm sorry" as I bypassed everyone to the exit and from there on just ran.

I ran to the arrival counter, took a couple of the arrival cards for foreigners and started scribbling while standing in queue.

Will never condemn a doctor's handwriting ever again.

Again another dash, this time I had a crowd to handle before I saw the florescent orange backpack cover of mine. Grab and run was my motive right now. Grabbed and ran from the arrivals to the departures.

Grateful for the small airport. If this were Changi, I would have collapsed.

Checked my baggage in again, and went to the waiting area where I was told to head of to Gate 55 or at least that was what I heard. It was a long run on the runway. No I was not running right next to the jets.

Although the thought appears pretty. :-)

I was running beside the loading unloading of baggages along the runway. Till I realized I might be going the wrong way. There was 20 mins before my plane took and this time time I was stressed. Till I saw a dude at the loading dock who I was begging to not show me but bring me to gate 55. Till he asked for my flight number and told me its Gate 85 not 55!

Seriously this can't get any better. Optimism. One reason I am still living.

Another long run to gate 85 and this time I showed the stewardess at the entrance my boarding pass and even asked her if this was the flight to Singapore. Man, she messed with my head.

"Is this the flight to Singapore?"

"No. Bangkok."

"What? Do you know where the flight to Singapore is?"

"I don't know."

"Nice. Thanks". And I almost walked away when she pulled me by the arm and said "Just kidding. This is the flight to Singapore".

If only she knew how amazing my day had been...

2010 Favorites

noreply@blogger.com (Usha) — Wed, 29 Dec 2010 04:30:00 +0000

Eats

Yoghurt at Dapuqiao, Shanghai
Bejing Palace Cheese
Okinawa Brown Sugar Milk Tea

Movies

Inception
Shutter Island
Alice In Wonderland
Toy Story 3
Ghost Writer
Social Network
Buried
Harry Potter And the Deathly Hallows
Tangled
Eat, Pray, Love

Music

Need You Now - Lady Antebellum
If I Die Young - The Band Perry
Hidden Away - Josh Groban
Waka Waka - Shakira (World Cup 2010)
In My Veins - Andrew Belle
Just A Dream - Sam Tsui
Empire State of Mind - Glee Cast

Sites

Matador Network

The Road Forks

Ridiculously Extraordinary

Emm Media

Vegan Backpacker

Shutter Sisters

A Cartoon Guide To Becoming A Doctor

Little Purple Cow iPhoneography

Travel With A Mate

We Heart It

Memories

Experiencing First Ever Snow Fall
Hiking Great Wall of China
Dancing at a School Event for a Chinese Song
Having a CT scan
World Cups & Exams Simultaneously
Friend's Visit to Shanghai
Visits back home (A Couple at that!)
Battle with The Witch
6 hour stint at Karaoke!
Owning Bette and Maria.

Have a Great 2011!

Note: Images on this post do not belong to this site.

Cairo Time was the Best Time Ever

noreply@blogger.com (Usha) — Sat, 25 Dec 2010 17:34:00 +0000

I haven't watched a romantic film in a long while.

And Cairo Time is has become my favorite. Of course there is Casablanca and Once. I'm a sucker for love stories that has bitter-sweet endings.

"What are you thinking about?"
"I was thinking what I'd do on my first day living in Cairo."
"And?"
"I'd open a coffee shop for women only."
"That's brilliant."

As I was browsing the dvd collections, I saw Cairo Time sitting there perfectly tucked away and unlike the multiple copies of popular movies, there was only one for this movie. The synopsis didn't say much except for an American lady played by Patricia Clarkson, visiting her husband in Cairo and the friendship she builds with this Egyptian played by Alexander Siddig. He is ohh soo good looking.

"Why are they looking at me?"
"This place is for men only."
"Why don't they say anything?"
"That would be rude."

It was a decent love story with amazing landscapes of Cairo. One of the few make-you-wanna-go-aww kinda love story. I loved it. It was my kinda or at least my idea of a romance flick. Simple. No over the top outpouring of emotions. Exotic yet real locations. Short dialogues. Just simple.

Have I mentioned I am in love with Cairo? And perhaps the Siddig dude too?

After the CT scan...

noreply@blogger.com (Usha) — Sun, 19 Dec 2010 15:57:00 +0000

I am Anemic and I self-diagnosed myself.

OK, maybe that was not the right thing to do. But I am a Doctor-To-Be. And it seemed like the best option to analyse myself. If I can't diagnose myself, I probably can't diagnose anyone else.

A summary of how I came about to diagnosing myself was like this:

My CT scan is clear: Which eliminates any hemorrhage and what not
But my dizziness still persist!
I get cold feet and hands when temperature drops

Which can only be explained by the fact that I am either pernicious or Iron deficient. But most likely Iron deficient.

Ever since I moved to the dorm I became lazier and stopped cooking entirely. I eat at the canteen sometimes but mostly live on bread and random junk food. Being a vegetarian, most of the food I find I can't consume. So, with my sabbatical from cooking, brought in a significant distance between me and vegetables cooked without meat.

They add meat in vegetables too at times. Annoying!

And because I have been experiencing excessive amounts of hair fall, increased heart rate after climbing 6 floors and loss of appetite. I can only say, I am anemic.

Its a mild case, which is why I can still walk and type this post. Otherwise, I'd be face down on my keyboard before this post ends.

However, now that my condition is somewhat deduced. I have to eat more stuff that is rich in Iron and Vitamin B12 to get back onto the fat, noisy Usha that I am. :)

Can't run for a while, for it takes a while for the body to be accustomed to strenuous exercises and especially ones that require massive amounts of Oxygen. The last thing I need now is to faint on the streets of Shanghai.

My diet has been changed to include more citrus foods and a big fat reminder: DO NOT SKIP MEALS!

I used to skip meals so very frequently, it became a habit. A bad one as I have now learned. :s

Note: By the way, do not try skipping meals at home. Self diagnosis is also not recommended.

First CT Scan

noreply@blogger.com (Usha) — Sat, 18 Dec 2010 11:13:00 +0000

CT scan in general is not that terrifying. Why am I saying this?

Cos I just had one. A Summary of why I ended up taking a CT scan was cos, I abruptly fainted and hurt my head real bad. Which by the way has left me with a battle 'bump' on my head.

Initially, I self diagnosed myself to be safe and without any possible blot clots in my brain. Although the bump hasn't quite disappeared yet.

After the fainting incident I had blurred visions, I wasn't walking straight no more. And I couldn't be on my feet for more than a minute. You would see me looking for something to hold onto to regain my balance.

Now that lead to me going to the hospital to have a consult. The doctor sent me for a CT scan just to make sure I haven't had any hemorrhage.

And..That's how it all began.

The results were in under an hour and me and my brain are both perfect and fine.

Gonna hang the scan on my wall. :)