LA 2 LV

I introduced to M & J the awesome films of Star Wars. Well, the first trilogy (episodes IV, V and VI) were better than the recent trilogy (esp viz a viz II) and I showed them the back end of III (the turning of Anakin to the dark side) then IV and of course VI when the Jedi returns. I am not exactly sure what VII is about, since it's entitled The Force Awakens but surely having returned wouldn't Luke the Jedi have gone on to restore the force? Hmmm.

Anyways, here I am standing in line at Cinemark in Tanforan Malls in San Francisco. An hour ahead of time because it's free seating and I wanted us all to have the better seats in the house. When I arrived though, there were already 30 people in the queue. Good seats ensure the maximum experience, surely nothing less to feel the force esp awakened one! 

We were truly immersed in an other-worldly experience last night. I managed to procure (albeit rather expensively) stall seats where trapeze artists were ha binging just overhead and in the aisles. We were all in Las Vegas at the Mandalay Bay One, and watched Michael Jackson "awakened" with the help of Cirque de Soleil. It was a true multimedia show and a special "appearance" of the King of Pop in life-like hologram. Science fiction stuff. So, it stands to reason that we follow that up with Star Wars. 

We are actually at the tail end of our 16-day trip across the West Coast of the US of A. Those following this blog would have read about our drive to San Francisco to Los Angeles. The last week has been about heading east, to the bright lights of Las Vegas and more importantly, beyond to Arizona the aptly named Grand Canyon state. 

In a way, this trip mimics (in many aspects) to the golden triangle I did two dozen years ago. As a newly minted airline executive I flew for the first time (on vacation) in business class to Tokyo, then on to Los Angeles with the obligatory side trip to Las Vegas/Grand Canyon and then on to San Francisco. Then, I was travelling alone (backpacking on a shoestring, I might add) and managed to also pack in a visit to Disneyland, Six Flags and Yosemite National Park. 

This time, Yosemite didn't make the itinerary on account of weather and we are all too old for Disneyland, and no longer need thrills from the roller coasters at Six Flags. Instead, we went to Mojave National preserve and its monuments, the Joshua Trees and the wide open natural space was thrilling enough. The sights that I did want to repeat and meaningfully with my family are two sights that awed me the last time: Hoover Dam and the Grand Canyon. 

Hoover Dam stood out as a true engineering feat, of man's attempt to master nature, in this case damming the mighty Colorado River. Another couple of hours drive away, nature 'fights' back, or rather simply re-asserted itself and reminded us what it could conjure up through the simple fact of erosion over the years in the Grand Canyon. The canyon is truly the first place that was the first time that truly took my breath away, and the family found it equally breathtaking!

Vegas was different to everything else we saw before. Everything, from the buildings to the lights to the people (including the tourists there) are just over the top. The buildings replicate Rome, Paris, Luxor and of course New York. The buskers and street performers entertain but without real magic (that used to be there in Las Ramblas). The people are superbly rich in obscene stretch limos and painfully poor begging for change on walkways. 

In a way, this is the USA we know. A land of opportunity but with a dark side to it. So it's all quite fitting that I conclude this blog just as the movie that really portrays the human condition so well: the force and the dark side. The drive to excel in the former, the passion of the former, the humanity of the former... All can lead to the other side when taken to an extreme. "Learn from this, you shall" as Yoda would have said.

Pacific Coast Highway (aka California Highway 1)

I left my heart in San Francisco, not.... for now I have seen other equally, if not more, charming cities, towns and villages in Palo Alto, Monterey, Carmel by the Sea, Cambria, San Luis Obispo and Santa Barbara. 

But first San Francisco remains a beautiful and I am reminded a hilly city! It does wonders to one's calorie burn, not to mention negating the need for warm winter wear. 

Speaking of winter, the weather here is unpredictable. Almost a microclimate with microseasons within a day! We were lucky sunny days followed rainy cloudy ones, enabling us to "literally" peel away the fog to reveal the sights underneath.

And in the rain, in Muir Woods, D slipped and landed on her derrière.... And her ego was bruised way more than her butt and as luck would have it, it happened seconds after I asked if she was fine. Talk about jinxing it!

The mother has been central in this trip, including playing a starring role (not!) in knocking over a spider web as J was about to attempt his umpteenth (unsuccessful) snapshot of the glistening arachnid creation.

The glitter (and I mean, money literally) of San Francisco I felt had moved south, to Palo Alto and Silicon Valley: home to HP, Apple and Google. And of course Stanford University. We drove out in the rain but it stopped just as we arrived and serendipitously just in time for the next guided tour. Unpredictable as the weather is, it's been kind to us. The locals are well accustomed to this weather changes, like Nathan the student guide at Stanford University who could wear a thin cotton tee in 10'c

What also really struck me is the ferocity of the restless sea, juxtaposed against the famous mild temperate climes of the California

The winds cause the seas to roar, but what courage the trees show against them, especially the lone Cypress Tree along the scenic 17 mile drive in Pebble Beach

Ah yes, the famous Pebble Beach golf club: a truly beautiful enclave for the Rich and famous. I never thought about it but totally got it when I saw what they had on the beach: yes, you guessed it - pebbles!!!

The Pacific Coast Highway is indeed one of the best driving roads in the world. Every turn set us upon breathtaking vistas of ocean on one side and mountainous cliff on the other. M commented that's it's like being on Top Gear

It helped that they were cool cars along the way. Like the time I tailed a Mercedes SLS "gull wing" and almost could imagine being in one :-)

We got to traverse concrete freeways and windy roads, passing big towns and small villages, through mountains and plains, and even vineyards. And some rather iconic places.

For one, Bixby Bridge which according to M is the Golden Gate's little brother. So true! It's less well known but just as breathtaking. Almost unimaginable, right?

Or stopping by a quaint little town called Carmel by the Sea, where we had lunch at a great restaurant with a window by the table. This and other meals (notably Toma in Santa Barbara and Bouche in San Francisco) are together moments to be remembered.

Indeed, this has been our first family trip together to USA. And we are so fortunate it's not just America we saw but Americana! The quiet charm in small towns as well as the loud garish ambitious ones. 

Cambria, for instance, is an old and gentle place where the pace is slow, and the people all friendly (taking the time to treat tourists like their own friends), the food is homemade but everything is vintage because the locals buy each other's used things in antique malls with quaint names like "Love Me 2 Times". The lack of youngsters - esp. teenagers - are sadly felt though in the church, where we had the good fortune to attend a catholic Sunday morning mass. There were no altar servers in this small community. While this town is still pretty and obviously had been successful once, now all I can think of is succession, or the lack thereof. Quite a few shops have signs that say they want to sell-out, not for lack of business but after 29 years, they want to pass it on to someone else.

Even more dramatically, nearby Harmony with its population of 18 and a few shops and houses sited on a large diary acreage surely point to a possible future.

Other towns, especially those with a younger population pyramid, like San Luis Obispo (where California State Poly is sited on) seem more vibrant and nothing says that more than Alex and Phyllis Madonna and their outlandish pink fairy tale castle of an inn. Everything here is over the top, from the colors to the architecture to the food.

Then there are college towns. I had mentioned SLO but nothing is quite built around the college community like Claremont, which is home to 5,500 (mostly undergrad) students and a thousand faculty and their families. So, the population here are either teenagers or seniors :-)

Whether young or old, they all do take care of themselves and the number of joggers I have encountered in my two sunrise runs (in Monterey Bay towards Lovers Point and Santa Barbara Beach towards Stearns Wharf) really attest to this fact!

Having started with a song, it would be remiss of me not to note that songs aren't written about places for nothing. San Francisco is indeed a charming place and so is Ventura Highway which America (who else?!) wrote and sang about. It's not easy to top the experiences of the Pacific Coast Highway but The Ventura Highway with its multiple lanes, high speed and mountain backdrop shining golden in the setting sun is indeed a drive worth making.

Not all who wander are lost

Common 'war cry' amongst those who has been bitten by the travel bug. It's something I caught 30 years ago. I took my first back-packing trip as a 19 year old, travelling over land, sea and air up the west coast of peninsular Malaysia, then up through Hatyai, Phuket, Bangkok and then Chiangmai. One month. One backpack. One thousand ringgit. And a well-thumbed dog-eared copy of Tony Wheeler's SEA on a shoestring.

Right now, a thousand RMs can't hardly buy a family lunch, especially where we are going. 

J is now 18 and had already made a trip on his own, with his classmates to Krabi to celebrate the completion of As. His Thailand trip involves comfortable flights and villas, courtesy of LCCs and AirBnB. His specialty is less about doing it on a shoestring budget, though I'm sure he can but rather he's a careful and well prepared traveller, like the scout he is.his bag contains a wet bag, a whistle and he's probably the only one in the cabin who paid attention to the safety video :-). 

He's about to set off to National Service and then University and family holidays together will become more difficult to arrange. So, we wanted a special one this time, to a place we've never been to altogether as a family: the US of A. The west coast to be precise, which is also where I first set foot in this country 25 years ago. We are going to do the golden triangle of San Francisco, Los Angeles and Las Vegas, with the Pacific Coast Highway and Grand Canyon thrown in! Not to mention a few campus tours for J to check out potential places he'd like to spend time in.

But first we had to fly for 18 hours to get there. So, all these special forces emboldened me to make a grand gesture and have us travel in style. A real step up from my backpacking trip all those years back and also to commemorate that my first time in business class was when I was to Tokyo (on my way to L.A.) courtesy of an overbooking-inspired upgrade. 

M is the vacation queen of the family and already has plans to document the trip on video and on her travelogue. She did an excellent one for us during our trip this time last year to Southern Africa, bringing all four parents along on safari. All eight of us enjoyed that trip tremendously, and made all the sweeter with witty words and pretty pictures. She is picking up after her old dad who used to keep a travelogue too. (Which reminds me, I need to find them: these journals are somewhere collecting dust in one of our various storage spaces). In fact, I titled this blog so because she reminded me of this phrase.

But right now, she's just enjoying the ample space she has. Already adjusting her body to US west coast time. Woe to the rest of us, especially me who cope really poorly with jet lag.

 

Schooldays

As we progress into the final month of 2015, a new milestone is reached. No, not that I have matured past my fourth zodiac cycle. Rather, both J and M reached new heights in their school life. 

He just concluded his final A-level papers, which officially marked the conclusion of his compulsory public schooling. From now on, every academic endeavor would be a specific choice he makes. Indeed, from hereon, every move he makes (save for serving his nation though military service) will be due to his singular efforts and choice (guided of course by the Holy Spirit).

Speaking of the Holy Spirit, M will get confirmed next Sunday. Now that's a real milestone. Spiritually, she will become an adult. It's only fitting that she's entering this new state of grace with a winning attitude, specifically a gold medal from a softball tournament that took place over the Thanksgiving holidays organized by the Singapore American School. When I congratulated her, like the adult she is becoming, she replied, "it's the team". Yes, she did hit a home run (and earned the team two runs, significant as they won by a point!); so this response from her was all the more gracious. Readers of this blog will recall an old post I wrote about her learning all about winning and more importantly, losing, together with her team. She has learned and grown so much. And that's the real victory. In life.

They are the products one one wonderful upbringing: specially brought to bear by their mum.

So, as I enter my 7-squared year, despite an uneven unexpected year of growth (in the business), I feel fine. At the core of it, I think it's because everything is well at home. Taken care of. So, I have stability deep down inside. It's really true what they say about "behind every great man ...". In fact, this year, I learned quite a bit about work. It's amazing what a simple reverse can do to accelerate learning, especially when one is standing on a solid foundation.

Which brings me back to the title of this blog: schooldays. Just last month, my primary/secondary schoolmates found me in a WhatsApp group chat. And yes, boys will be boys. Everyone is just as we were, plus 30, 40 years. I am sure many years from now, J and M will also get reconnected (joyfully, I might add) with their friends with whom they have shared and are continuing to share so many wonderful memories together. As Dr Seuss once said, "sometimes you never know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory".

As for D, she knows:

"me" time

It's 8:38am. I am here in the Sala Miro, the lounge in Barcelona airport. By the time the flight leaves (if it's on time), I would have spent exactly 36 hours in one of these favorite cities of mine, all by myself.

Hence the title to this blog. For most of the last 20 years, whenever I had a moment, it was typically spend at work, or with the family, and friends and of course the church. There is hardly an extended number of hours (save for sleeping) that I am spending mainly just doing what I like to be doing.

Yesterday I did just that. After a typically Western breakfast with scrambled eggs and bacon, washed down with yogurt, I ambled along the Avinguda Diagonal into a flea market and then made my way to The Watch Gallery to pick up some purchases I have ordered before hand. One is a serious buy. The other two more whimsical but nonetheless are odes to my sense of design, like this Seven Friday (designed in Switzerland but with Japanese movement). And to complete the global supply chain, it's retailed in Barcelona by an half Englishwoman to a Malaysian on his way to Singapore. 

This global ecosystem was much in evidence as I concluded the day as well, watching the El Classico, the match between Barcelona and Real Madrid football clubs. The game was played in the Bernabeau, Real Madrid's home, so I didn't watch it in situ but rather in an Irish Pub next to Placa Reail, with some Arab-looking Israelis and lots of English and Australians, of course. 

Good that Barcelona won, 4-0 at that, and the mood was a jolly one. This match is made all the more memorable since I visited the Nou Camp just the hours before. Appropriately, though I should add, that is found the Manchester United tour 6 years ago more meaningful. It's not just because of Munich crash adding poignancy, or the Busby babes showing resilience; it's because that was a guided tour (not just an audio guide) and we got to enter the inner sanctum (whereas we were disallowed into the FCB one on the rationale that it is the players' private place). I didn't mind because deep down the ManU fan in me did want Old Trafford to stand out and remain special.

Of course I found time to eat a good lunch, at a restaurant at the base of Mt Tibidabo and then dinner at Gothic quarters near La Ramblas. Speaking of this famous street, it's lost some of it's appeal. The stalls that used to line the street and peddle unique wares are now surely replaced by homogenous stores manned by Indians selling China-made souvenirs of the city. Gone too are the buskers and performers. 

But apart from La Ramblas, the charm of this beautiful city remains. Nice walks (I must have walked nearly 10km yesterday, some of it in the many parks that dot the city) facilitated by Google Maps and great food (recommended by foodie friends) are the highlights the past 36 hours.

I must admit though that with Google Maps, I didn't once get lost but walking has lost some of it's charms. When I used to travel alone all those years ago, my wanderings would take me into forests and small pathways but I never quite felt lost. I was too engrossed with all the new things I am sensing.  Yes, I did stop and take a few photos of whatever caught my eye (a little David-sequence statue with grapes instead of a slingshot for instance), but for the most part walking was about navigating from Pt A to Pt B, and all other points got lost :-(

While the joys of walking have been diminished, the joys of eating and drinking have been significantly increased. From tapas to smoked ham to the softest pork I have tasted in a while, cuisine esp here in old Europe remains one of the best in the world. 

I had inadvertently even recorded it for posterity when my conversation with the waiter at La Venta was accidentally recorded and dispatched to my High School mates with whom I had recently reconnected with via WhatsApp. Boys really don't change at all. We are all just older and larger versions of whomever we were 40 years ago. 

So, I wasn't quite alone being always in the company of various sorts of people, even virtually. 

Still, at each turn, at every fine morsel of food I chew, at every sight that caught my eye, I find myself wishing you all were here. So much for "me" time then. 

All history is geography

Some TED talks inform, others intrigue. Few inspire. I saw one the other day. The speaker asks a fundamental question: don't ask me where I am from, ask me where I am local.

Simple profound insight. Countries are man made. Humans, if you believe, are children of God. And if you are not, we are still defined less by our nationality, even where we are born (both my kids were  born in one country but grew up in another and will likely pursue further studies in a third, let alone where they would eventually settle down to work). We are defined less by borders of a nation than by the work ethics of our culture, the values of our parents, the influences of our friends, the teachings of our educators and of course the spirit of our God. 

Who we are are the combined result of many things, of which the nation has only some (limited) bearing. The thing that matters is that the country is the geographies which shape the peoples living on it. The harsher the environment, the tougher the people become in order to survive. The more adventurous amongst these tough people tend to migrate seeking more clement lands. They are then subject to discrimination by the natives. Driven by hunger, and a better life, they are prepared to endure hardship. Those who survive therefore also acquire mental resilience as well.

The Jews are oft-mentioned as being special, not because they were called God's special children but because they have shown themselves capable to overcoming the harshness of their lives and it's this constant learning that made them capable of achieving special things. Amongst all Jews, there is a group called the Ashkenazi Jews who, beyond the centuries of character forming desert wanderings and slaveries, migrated to lands new in Europe and faced yet more persecution. This is the group that produced the likes of Einstein, Rothschild and Golda Meier. The Chinese are similarly mentioned in the same breath, especially the Hakkas. Literally, they are called Guest people, because like the Ashkenazis they migrated from the inclement northern territories to the south and faced all the usual mistreatment of their hosts. ZhuGeLiang, Sun Yat Sen, Deng XiaoPing and Lee Kuan Yew are all Hakkas. It's almost bred into them to face the harshest challenges, take on the slimmest odds and win. Leadership at a grand scale.

Today, I am in London. Still one of the major capitals of the world and a melting pot filled with migrants from all over the world. Just a century ago it was undoubtedly the centre of the empire, which was then one of the most powerful in the world. I walked past Westminster Abbey to the Parliament and across the Westminster bridge. Constructions aimed at impressing the crowds, to exert ultimate power, of the church and of the government. There is a small square next to the Abbey called Parliament Square. Statues of great men, national leaders like Churchill, Mandela and now Gandhi, stand on its edges. 

It got me thinking. Apart from Mandela and Gandhi, most national leaders from Churchill and Meier to Deng to Lee, they had to make some really tough trade-offs for the greater good of the nation. Imagine Churchill having to order young men and women to certain deaths so the nation could survive. How does one do it?

Do they have a different sort of moral compass? And in the wake of terrorist attacks (most recently the random killings across Paris), one can indeed imagine that there are grounds for taking out the perpetrators. But if you step back, can this really be justified? Can violence on any scale, on any grounds, upon any intent, ever be condoned. For wouldn't it, with man remaining true to it's basal human nature, only cause revenge and perpetuate this cycle; with a new generation of terrorists to wreck more havoc in the world. 

In the final analysis, the answer has been provided to us. Goodwill to all and Peace on earth. How we use our world-hewn talents to enact this is up to us.

Hooligans' Game ...

... played by gentlemen. I know for those who do not understand the game, this oft-used phrase to describe rugby, is somewhat perplexing. After all, it's a game that features team-mates grabbing each other by the crotch and head butting the opponents in a scrum. It's a game that permits bringing down another player who is in full flight by shackling his legs. Players emerge from a game with nicks, scratches, tears and even fractures, often bloodied. And to add to the machismo, in some cases, the play continues even when some player is down and out and receiving treatment on the pitch.

All I can say to these not unfounded notions of the game is to watch one, especially a world class one. Watch the hooker who is right in the middle of the scrum. Watch the scrum half direct the play. Watch the wingers sprint to touch... And most of all watch the fly half who kicks the ball impossibly accurately into goal.

So what is gentlemanly about rugby? Consider these:

- there is no room for feigning, no fake falling in the penalty box for instance, and certainly not for interrupting a move because play can continue 

- to move forward you have to throw the ball backwards (what a deferential thought in sports!), so to advance you need the whole team to move together

- you can't move onto the opponents' side to grab the ball off them, so all 'battles' have to be settled face to face

- some moves are rewarded more than others, therefore ensuring just pay-offs for great effort

- and punishments are real where players are sent off the game either temporarily or permanently

Appeals to the civilized, don't you think? That this game was created in a posh English public (read private) school during a game of football explains a lot already.

Even more poignantly, it's a game that been the great leveler. The winning NZ World Cup team this year had more than the fair share of indigenous Maoris who were born to play this game given their stocky build, and indeed begin every match with a war cry, the Haka. More dramatically, Nelson Mandela used the 1995 WRC finals (hosted in South Africa) shortly after his release and election as President to unite a divided country post decades of cruel apartheid practices.

Though I played the game competitively (as a hooker) in university, I didn't really follow it. I have only watched two matches (on TV) end to end. Both are Rugby World Cup matches. Both featured Australia in the finals, once as host of the 2003 RWC finals and recently in 2015. Both times the Wallabies lost. And both times to a match winning performance produced by the opposing fly half. 

In 2003, Jonny Wilkinson showed the world what fly halfs can do the win the game with their kicking. Appropriately enough, it was his drop goal in injury time that won it for England in 2003.

Dan Carter also won it for the All-Blacks in 2015. He alone scored 19 points, two points more than that scored by the Aussies. The score line may have suggested a one-sided match but it was far from it. Yes, NZ did lead 21-3 right after half time but the Australians fought back (esp when they had a headcount advantage as a player got sin-binned) to 21-17. And then Carter restored the faith. His drop goal pulled NZ ahead by a clear 7 points and in a game as close and as passionate as this, this margin of a try+conversion meant almost victory.

Victory they got. Both match winners were also man-of-the-match. Their names forever remembered in the history of the game. A game that is truly played by real men!