I suffer from the guilt of privilege.

Let’s face it – I wine and dine (at times, high end), I shop (although not very often), I travel (and now add to the global carbon burden), I have access to modern technologies, I buy things that I don’t necessarily need. I work hard to get to where I am today and I won’t apologise for enjoying the perks, but there are times I feel a twinge of guilt from the excesses.

This evening is one of those. I am conflicted. I am being treated by Dave (thanks!) to an amazing dinner at an incredible location (look at the view!). At the same time, I am conscious that there are many around the world who are going hungry tonight. On one hand, it’s great that I get to live through such experience. On the other hand, I feel like the money we spent could have gone on to do something more meaningful.

I support a number of charities – it’s not much, but it’s a start – but truthfully, where do I draw the line to balance between giving and receiving?

A major difference that one notices between Europe and Asia is the limited number of museums that one can visit. For an island nation of Singapore, if I were asked what can a visitor does, I’m inclined to say “shopping at Orchard Road”, because it seems that’s what many people do. Of course, that’ll also be an unfair depiction, given there are other things that Singapore has to offer.

One of my favourite museums in Singapore is the Asian Civilisation Museum. I love all things cultural and this place has just the right collection to impress me. On top of it all, a number of terracota warriors from Xi’an is currently on exhibit here, and I’d rather not miss it. The travelling army may be small but no less impressive. Perhaps one day I will make it to the original site where the entire treasure trove was unearthed, but for now, this is sufficient :)

For the love of chocolate, this is what I think is the most interesting thing that I’ve photographed today – a chocolate lampshade. La classe! This should go onto my wishlist right away. Does anyone want to buy me one for Christmas? :p

My cousin and I popped in to the Ch•c•lat Research Facility earlier today, partly to admire the collection that they’ve got – they claim to have 100 different flavours (some traditional, some unconventional) – and partly to let me do some chocolate shopping. I picked a tablette of “bubur cha-cha” to test (with a plan to return if I like it) but sadly never took to it. It just tasted like a rather greasy/creamy bar of white chocolate to me. Bummer.

I’m torn. When it comes to food, say, eating out at a restaurant, I prefer one which has limited menu but serve great tasting dishes on offer. Do only a few things, keep it simple, but do it really well, and change according to season. A very sound principle in my opinion.

But when it comes to Malaysia and hawker dining, then I want lots and lots of options. Afterall, the stall owners should have satisfy the principle mentioned-above. Each stall serves a limited few items that are their specialties (at least that’s the concept). And now, I should be spoilt for choice of a wide variety of food without worrying if one single chef is being overextended in terms of his/her culinary repertoir. Win-win, right?

As a child, I was told, that whenever I burn some joss sticks, the smoke of the incense would carry my wishes to heaven. Invariably, the wishes run along the lines of good health for everyone in my family and success for many endeavours that we undertake. To pray specifically for wealth is not something I would include in my silent chant.

I guess that’s part of the difference between the practice of Buddhism in Sri Lanka and in Malaysia that I have observed. In Sri Lanka, the offerings are typically of flowers, food and oil, whereas in Malaysia, incense burning is a lot more prominent. Buddhism in Malaysia is also less pragmatic and perhaps more inclusive, shaped by a mélange of various fractions of Buddhism as well as Taoism and Confucianism, each not thought to be mutually exclusive. Fascinating things, culture and religion are. If only I have more free time, I wouldn’t mind getting to know more in details.

After over a week of holiday in Sri Lanka, I arrived in Malaysia this morning, having just missed the Malaysia Day which was celebrated yesterday. Officially, this year, it also incorporates the Independence Day celebration, which normally falls on 31 August but due to the dates that Eid-ul-Fitr fell this year, it got shifted by a couple of weeks.

All along the route that I’ve travelled thus far, national flags can be seen prominently displayed, be it outside commercial buildings or domestic residences. Some have kept it low-key with a single flag flying above a pole while some have decided to go the other way by showing off strung small flags running along the length and/or the periphery of the buildings, with/without one (or more) large flag.

Happy (belated) Malaysia Day!

If there’s one mode of public transport most seen around Sri Lanka, it is the tuk-tuk. Small, colourful (some with personalised decor, both interior and exterior) and nifty vehicle that zips through the city and the rural areas, there is no escaping them. I still marvelled at the fact that I saw them up on high hills after manouvering some tricky and windy stretches little roads.

For such a compact vehicle, I have seen it carried more things than a small car could. 6-7 adults squeezed in at the back? No problem. Buying a double bed mattress? Just haul it overhead. Have a bike to carry? Slot it through. Produce to be brought to the market? Pack as much as you can sell for the day (and then some). As for us, we ordered one to take us on a tour around Colombo, seated comfortably, just two persons peering out the “windows”. My last chance too, to see Colombo, before I fly out this evening.

Wedding ceremony in Sri Lanka is interesting and unlike many others that I have attended. Set by the seafront of Galle Face Hotel, my friends Eve and Pras got married at sunset, surrounded by family and friends, officiated by a priest, and entertained by singers, drummers and Kandyan dancers. It was just beautiful.

Claire and I have also actually seen Kandyan dancing while we were in Kandy. Next to the Temple of the Tooth is the largest dance association in Sri Lanka, for about an hour, the tourists are entertained by traditional cultural dances as well as fire-coal walking. We thoroughly enjoyed our experience that we were glad to get a second go at watching them at the wedding.

We continued our journey towards Colombo, the last leg of the tour from Galle to Colombo. En route, we passed by Peraliya Village where a tall, 54 feet Buddha statue has been erected in memory of the victims of the 2004 Indian Ocean Tsumani, with funding assistance from Honganji Temple of Japan. An estimated 2,000 or so villagers and train passengers of Samudra Devi, that happened to be halted neat the village as water surged, perished that day.

Tsunami Honganji Vihara is built based on the Bamiyan Buddha statues of Afghanistan, which were destroyed about a decade ago by the Talibans. Today, it stands facing the sea that is a mere couple of hundred meters away, on a platform guarded by lions on all corners, surrounded by a pond, and linked to the land by a small bridge. The breezy September wind sent the coconut leaves fluttering lightly against the blue sky, revealing little of the destruction of the past, until one casts his/her eyes to the surrounding and found crumbling huts and houses that have since laid uninhabited.

It’s no secret that I don’t swim (I am making some effort at learning though) and looking at the crashing waves along the southern coastline of Sri Lanka, I don’t think I’d dare to swim there even if I could! I never stepped into the waters but from where I stood, I’m sure the height of the waves could easily come up to my waist, if not higher.

There were never any breaks to the cycle of waves rolling in and out, and yet, somehow, it was mesmerising to look out from the window of the van, watching the sea riding its natural rhythm. During photographic breaks, it felt great just to stand there for a minute and let the wind weaved through my tresses (and perhaps rather unfortunately, also lifting my skirt at rather inopportune moments when I forgot to hold it down). It was also a kind of calm that I have not experienced in a very long time…