A Laksa Sojourn in Guiyang

Today I was asked to fly straight to Guiyang, without much notice to attend an adhoc meeting on Wednesday. This is not my first trip to Guiyang, in fact, a second trip to this ‘not-so-look-forward’ city. The only difference is I got to stay at Sheraton (and I have accumulated another few hundred points on the Starwood Preference Guests gimmick) and fly first class too. Now, in China, flying first class isn’t really first class. It is just a compartment with lesser people, so to speak.

And, the usual travelers’ woes in China prevailed! No matter what you say or hope, DELAYS are unavoidable. The plane was stuck at the apron, stewardess duly notifying all first class passengers of the ‘busy’ sky over Shenzhen. A fellow first class passenger, perhaps some rich Chinese rag-to-riches entrepreneur, unleashed his Vertu cell phone and made a call. In a matter of 15 mins, the plane (probably the only one) was allowed to pull back and ready to fly. As the plane pulls back, he got another call and duly thanked the other party for lending a hand. This is China and it is probably the only country that something of this nature can happen.

Anyway, it was a short 1hr 45 mins flight and I hardly finished the movie when the plane touched down at Guiyang and we were immediately ushered out via the VIP channel. Just like that……..and you are out of the airport, picked up by a fleet of limos. How is that, eh? That, incidentally, meant you are left with an empty stomach, devoid of a cigarette lighter (that’s China!) and got yourself into the room feeling hungrier than before you left. I had wanted to cut down my weight because of an impending surgery next month but the roar of the acids in my stomach is just too much to bear. Flipping through the room service, something caught my eyes. Yes, it was Malay Curry Laksa 180g ( I don't think we weigh our laksa back home, do we?).

Being away from home, I couldn't succumb to the temptation and hastily dial for room service. I asked the lady why is it listed as Curry Laksa? I hate to admit this but my mandarin is just not good enough in China, nor is my English. The lady made a quick decision and wisely revert the call to the chef.

I may be hungry but I can detect that accent even when my ears are stuffed full of wax! “Allo, eh can help you odour?” No, you can’t help me with my odour, I have my deodorant, but you can explain to me when is a laksa curry and vice versa. “Har”, he echoed faintly over the phone, “no, tis iis laksa lah, Ma-Lai-Si-Ya one”. “Yu wan or not, we can make hot hot one for you”. At this point, perhaps it was the hunger, or perhaps I was exhausted and I whispered YES.

The Malay Curry Laksa came and I eat it hungrily. Only to discover this may be the hottest laksa I have had the pleasure to savour. I am a laksa connoisseur, and tonight I cannot tell whether it is a delicacy of taste or a delicacy of passion. Apart from the ‘pedas-ness’, I can’t remember anything about it. The sweat beads instantly accumulated over my forehead and I had to wipe the sweats while they came out like Niagara Falls. Yes, even with a temperature of 14C in Guiyang, the sweat came on and on. Now I know what is Malay Curry Laksa 180g! 180g means the weight of your sweat!

This may be the most gratifying moment for me, to taste the Malay Curry Laksa 180g at an unearthly hour. More ironic is the fact that I had a sojourn with Malay Curry Laksa in Guiyang and to endure the excruciating experience of perspiring profusely while I ate on a breezy yet cool evening. Laksa, as they say, is best eaten at home……..not in a foreign land. Selamat malam orang kampung!

Attitude or Personality

I have this amazing experience over the week-end; it did not happen once, that much I can assure you. The truth is it happened a good few times before I was asked by my buddy to write a blog on this odd-ball. He has made a special request that this blog should be satirical enough to stir some laughters, only for the smart witted readers, but not serious enough to hurt the person, yes perhaps the one and only of his kind left in this world. I am torn between words of truth and being satire. No, that’s an understatement for I actually struggled to sound nice when it irks.

This particularly bloke is actually a rather nice man when he is sober but intoxicated after about two bottles of beer, he turns to Mr. Hyde. You have people who seem nice and normal, and then in a matter of minutes turned into a clone of our infamous Perkasa Ali chap. Alas, unless you are really in a good mood, having to last his demonic sermon over the entire evening is somewhat an arduous task, even the 20 years old Chivas will not save you the wrath. If I may, I like to offer a theory to sum up this behavior. It is what I called “The Unbearable Beings of a Socially Suppressed Soul” and “The Insurmountable Needs to Hallucinate”. I think you get my point, either way it will drive a soul from mentally sound man into delusion.

The deluded bloke has this belief that he is born with three ominous signs, good grief he did not say three wise men went in search of him! A. he has brought along the gifted sword; B. the command flag and last, C. the imperial seal. I am usually an open-minded person, and I tend to accept myths and beliefs but towards him I tend to be remained cynical. Not sure if anyone would agree, despite the fact that I may slur in my speech (after heavy intoxication), I am skeptical to whatever he has to say. Mind you, he never changed his story and that was what is so amazing about him. They say if you keep telling the same lie for 100 times, or even 1000 times in his case, you will eventually believe it is true. I consulted a psychiatrist friend of mine, and he acknowledged this fact. Subconsciously the mind will turn blur pieces into crystal clear logically tied frames.

I am a moralistic type of person. And I loathe the way he boasts about his future billions and belittling you in the process. The reality is, at 50, he is still as broke as me. I may not be a fortune teller but I am certainly unconvinced that time is on his side to realize his 30 billion ringgit in liquid assets. Yes, that’s how much he is bragging of his future 30B. As if making a mockery of my humble pocket is his favorite past-time, his infamous moronic gesture would be, “Would putting 10M into your business venture good enough for you?” It hurts if one’s pride is persistently bombarded in that manner, that I am speaking from myself. I am not a beggar, I don't have a business but an ordinary average Joe who is an employee of a firm and last but not least, 10M is nothing (I may not have it) in today’s financial world. In one instance, it did occur to me what the outcomes were if I smashed the empty beer bottle over his head. I calculated my chances on where the blood would spurt; making sure my newly bought shirt is not stained from the oozing fountain of blood. Do I hack him once, or twice, or endless rounds of poundings? Nah, I have regained my composure for just as short as a time I spent on ways of smashing his head.

I think the whole thing about his ‘future’ asset is a bit of the old adage about money calls for money. In some way, I do sympathise him. Even if he were to make it, it is still like a hamster in a wheel, forever running for more. I rather am the humble average Joe than the hamster with 30B, would you?

And I have to agree with what Melody said all along, “I don’t have an attitude problem, I just have a personality you can’t handle”. I concede it's probably me that can't handle his personality rather than his attitude. Am I being too nice to him, bro?