Malaysian memoirs

6) Meeting Peyshan at Kuala Lumpur Airport (4th January). Ant and I landed at the airport late in the evening. Something had put us into a bit of a strange mood, possibly a combination of sleep deprivation (we stayed up late the night before playing guitar hero), food deprevation (it had been at least 6 hours since we'd eaten), and excitement at seeing Peyshan. As we sped back to her parents house in search of food she must have been wondering what she'd let herself in for. The six days in Malaysia were probably the most fun-packed and energetic of my entire trip...


7) Seeing a proper beach in Penang. Reading my Asia travel guides had left me with images of beautiful tropical beaches, with perfect white sand and lined with palm trees. Unfortunately my visits to the sea in Korea and Taiwan failed to provide such an environment -- through a combination of bad weather and poor beaches -- so it was a real relief to walk down to the seafront once we reached our apartment in Penang, and to swim in the warm sea (in spite of the jellyfish).


8) The first time Peyshan let me drive her car. Our trip to Malaysia involved a lot of travelling by car, so Peyshan had asked Ant to share some of the driving. However, for some inexplicable reason she was reluctant to let me drive her precious car -- even though I have a proper international driving licence, which Ant does not! After a lot of persuasion and sulking though she eventually agreed to let me have a go. I remember how tense she was as I got into the drivers seat, and seeing her arm trembling (especially after I tried to drive away with the handbrake on...). The first few minutes were a bit shady as I tried to remember what all the levers do and which side of the road to drive on, but I was soon in total control (really!). Peyshan was very good after that and allowed me to do a couple of hours drive on the way back to Kuala Lumpur as well (but thankfully not into the city).


9) Discovering the wonder of Chinese Tea houses in Penang (and then again in Kuala Lumpur and Krabi). Everyone knows what a great thing a cup of tea is, but the Chinese take it to a whole new level by shaping a whole environment and ceremony around the cup of tea. The process of making a good cup of chinese tea is multilayered and requires timing, patience and concentration. First water is heated to just below boiling (it's bad for it to actually reach boiling for some reason, so standard electric kettles are out), and then it is poured into a small clay pot containing the tea leaves. The first brew is only left for a few seconds (to 'wake up the leaves'), and is then used to warm up the drinking cups (which are small enough to only hold a mouthful of tea each). Subsequent brews are left for longer and are first poured into a second (usually open topped) receptical, which allows the tea to cool slightly before it is tasted. As each cup only holds a mouthful of tea, one can get through about a dozen brews in a single sitting, and the flavour and aroma of the tea change subtly with each brewing. The whole experience is very relaxing and rejouvenating. Now back in Korea I intend to buy myself a proper set as soon as possible.


10) Seeing the Twin Towers light up at night in Kuala Lumpur. This is best explained by a photo. The towers may not be as high as the Taipei 101, but they have done a really good job with the lighting!

Back to Korea

On Wednesday I bid farewell to Bangkok and catch the plane bound for Seoul. This morning I went to the Korean embassy to collect my passport complete with the new visa which allows me to work in the country for a year, so now I am all set. I am not sure how much I will enjoy the icy Korean winter after the intense heat of Thailand (there's a 40 degree difference!), but I am looking forward to going back -- to seeing Jin again, and strangely, to starting work. The last 41 days of plane flights, sightseeing, reunions, weddings, ceremonies and food, food and more food have been an incredible experience and given me many unique memories (which are still jostling around in my brain trying to get themselves into some sort of causal structure). However, during all the excitment of the last few weeks I feel as though I have been living on a limited reserve of time (I have certainly been living on a limited reserve of money...) -- to do this travelling certain aspects of my life have been put on hold, and now it is time to return my attention to them. Fortunately my sub-conscious seems to have taken up the challenge, and I am filled with motivation for creating a more settled period of life with Jin in Korea. Perhaps in a strange way my time having fun in Thailand has been a good preparation.



How best to document the experience of my travels on this blog...? I have decided a two-pronged strategy. First, I will upload a pictorial diary of my stay onto the Picasa album -- given that I have taken more than 500 photos that should provide a fairly comprehensive guide. Secondly, I will write here some descriptions of the experiences which have proved most memorable for me during my time in Taiwan, Thailand and Malaysia. For anyone thirsty for more there is Ant's blow-by-blow account of our travels on 'The ice-skating Gecko' (linked in the previous post). Since he arrived on the 2nd I spent almost every waking hour (and most sleeping hours) in his company -- those of you who know Ant will be impressed I am still of sound mind. In any case I doubt I can improve upon his excellent essays, especially after yesterday when I managed to loose the notebook in which I'd kept a record of what we did each day (as well as everyone's phone number in Thailand, the address of the Korean embassy... :P). Anyway...


1) Twilight at the Chih-Shan garden of the National Palace Museum, Taipei. Jin and I decided to visit the garden after seeing the museum earlier in the day. The sun had just set and it felt to me just like an early Autumn evening in England, which brought back fond memories. After spending two visually-simulating hours touring the busy galleries of the museum, the quiet beauty and half-light of the garden hit me like a sledgehammer of tranquility. Jin and I spent a pleasent time sitting at an open-air gallery overlooking the garden's silent pools, before heading back to our hotel.

2) Travelling through dense fog along narrow mountain roads on the way back from Sitou National Park, Taiwan. After Jin had gone back to Korea, I went with Big Sis and her family to Sitou, a National Park set deep in the mountains of Taiwan. The next day, on the way back a thick fog decended over the mountains. Travelling in a minibus around the sharp contours of the road as it wound its way through the mountains with typically only a few metres visibility was a nerve-racking experience, but also strangely captivating. Sometimes we would be travelling through thick fog and suddenly turning a corner the fog would lift, giving a brief stunning view of the distant valleys far below, before in the space of a few metres we would hit another wall of fog and be plunged back into a white, shapeless isolation. It was quite unlike anything I have seen before.

3) Taking a ferry ride along Chao Phraya river in Bangkok. On the day I visited the Grand Palace, I decided to travel by boat -- both my guest-house and my destination were close to the river, and given the famous traffic and noise of Bangkok's roads it seemed like a good option. I imagined myself drifting gently downstream on a quiet wooden barge, the wind blowing cooly on my face. The reality was rather in conflict with my imagination -- upon boarding the barge we were pushed down onto the hot and heavily crowded deck, if there was any wind it was dissipated amongst the sweaty bodies before it reached me, the noise from the boat's diesel engine drowned out all other sound, and the motor caused the whole boat to vibrate violently. Still, a good experience :).

4) Watching the sun set over Wat Arun, Bangkok. I enjoy evenings in Thailand -- probably because of the comfortable warmth in contrast to the stifling heat of the day. The sillouette of Wat Arun against the red evening sky was very beautiful -- there's a picture of it on the web album (after I took this picture a Thai lady on the jetty I was standing came up to me and demanded I pay her 20 baht per photo; I don't even think it was her jetty...).

5) Walking across the Bridge over the river Kwai. On new year's day I was in Kanchanaburi with Pie and his family. On the way back they made a brief stop so that I could go and see the famous bridge. Being New Year's day it was quite busy, and many people were walking across the bridge. The bridge was designed to carry trains, and was obviously built with the minimum necessary material, so that you walk along tracks just two feet wide, with six-inch planks on either side serving as walkways, and nothing else between you and the water below (except for a few well placed gurders for you to hit on the way down). With so many people crossing the bridge at the same time (in both directions), you frequently had to stand right on the edge of the platform to allow people to cross -- sometimes there would be some pushing and shoving for good measure. I'm pretty sure that if it was in England they would have added some pretty heafty railings alongside the track for safety (if you were allowed on the bridge at all), but then that would rather detract from the atmosphere.

More to follow...

Thailand Part I

The last post leaves me at the airport in Taipei on 28th December. The more sharp-witted reader will have realised this was two weeks ago... so let me try to relate all the things I have done since then (and we'll see how far I get...).

I landed safely in Thailand at midday on 28th December. Given my lack of knowledge about public transport in Bangkok, I decided to play safe and take the official airport taxi to my guest-house, which turned out to be a rather expensive mistake -- I was treated like a VIP but assumed to have the money to boot. Anyway, once I had settled into my accommodation and had a cold shower I set out to explore some of my surroundings. Bangkok has a rather different feel from Taipei or Seoul... for a start, there are many more western tourists. However, despite the abundance of westerners, Bangkok has retained a more individual character than the other two capitals (which seem to belong to a universal 'big city' mould - lots of high concrete buildings, men in suits, and people rushing everywhere trying to pretend the rest of the crowd doesn't exist). Tourists tend to be confined to certain areas of the city -- mostly around the old city where the Grand Palace and most of the historic sites are found. In particular, there is one street -- Khaosan road -- where western backpackers must outnumber Thais 3 to 1, and which is crowded with guest-houses, bars and fast-food restaurants (and lots of shady looking characters looking for naive tourists to scam). I was fortunate enough to choose a guest-house a couple of kilometers upstream of the main tourist centre, and in a much quieter neighbourhood. Whilst there were quite a few hostels on the street where I stayed, just a short walk and a ferry journey across the river away I was such a novelty to the residents that several stopped to stare at me or engaged me in broken English -- perhaps worried that I had got lost.

On the evening of 29th I met up with Noon -- one of Ant's friends from Warwick whom I mostly remembered for falling asleep during the 'Sponsored Meditation on Snowdon' which we had taken part in last summer. She took me to a very nice restaurant with one of her friends (a restaurant critic -- handy!). I was ready to gouge myself but unfortunately my vulnerable stomach had other ideas (it took me a while to get used to the new food in Thailand, but now I seem more or less alright -- and my belly is getting bigger... :P). On 30th I did the typical tourist thing -- no, not binge drinking and going to go-go bars... the other typical tourist thing -- taking my camera around the Grand Palace and the Temple of the Emerald Buddha -- which were duly impressive, if a little too gold for my taste. The adjacent Wat Pho was my favourite, with a rather more subtle beauty, and more peaceful. I took loads of photos so I'll add some more description when I get round to uploading them.

On 31st December I left my lodgings and met up with P'Pie and his family at the airport. They looked after me for my next few days in Thailand, and they were really great at it -- even though they have a wedding to organise! We started the new year at Kanchanaburi (home of the infamous Bridge over the river Kwai), and in the morning went to a local temple where Pie's family often go for a merit making ceremony. The temple is well known in Thailand for it's community of tigers (and wild boar, deers, a leopard...) so I got to see them too, if only from a distance. On the 2nd of January we met up with Paradise -- who was as stylish as ever -- and then went to the airport together to meet Ant. After that things got rather more hectic for all concerned... Fortunately though, Ant is a much more conscientious blogger than me, and so you can read some beautiful and informative prose about our next 48 hours in Thailand, and our time in Malaysia with Peyshan here.

Taiwan Web Album

I've created a web album of the first leg of my round-a-small-part-of the world tour -- featuring Jin, Steve and Rowena in Taiwan. You can find it here:

http://picasaweb.google.com/Mark.Ancliff/Taiwan

Stay tuned for some first impressions of the land of smiles...

The long and the short of it

I was shocked to notice it's been nearly a month since I've written anything here. Trying to remember what I've been doing for three weeks... I can remember being busy but am sure I will now struggle to describe what it is I've been busy doing. I will have a go anyway.

Were I still in Korea on 27th of December I would officially become an illegal immigrant, my three month visa-free tourist status having come to an end. This fact lies behind two of my busynesses – coming up with a travel plan so that my exit from Korea is more of a holiday than an eviction, and finding the offer of a full-time job so that I may return triumphant after my travels equipped with an employment visa. Fortunately these two goals are now nearly achieved.

I won't say too much about my travel plans now – the story should unfold on this blog during the travel itself (including pictures!). Jin and I are leaving for Taiwan on Wednesday where we will spend six days together. We are both feeling a bit exhausted and are greatly looking forward to some relaxed time together. After Taiwan, Jin will return to Korea for the important business of money-making, and I will continue on to Thailand and Malaysia. I will meet up with Ant for most of the rest of the tour, and along the way hope to see Steve, Rowena, Paradise, P'Pie, P'Nun (and their marriage!), Peyshan, Peng, Luangpor and Tahn Manapo. It should be a good trip :).

Meanwhile, I have accepted an offer of postdoctoral research at The Catholic University of Korea (which thankfully appreciates religious freedom enough to admit non-Catholics). The choice was made rather easier by the impending visa deadline and by the fact that it was the only definite offer I have thus far received. The work will be on analytical study of models of biological evolution. Like most analytical (non-computer based) studies in physics, the models are greatly simplified to make the analysis possible – the hope being that even though the model is far from realistic it has enough in common with reality to share some important features (the notion of 'universality' is often cited in this regard). I am just starting to read around the subject, but so far it seems like something I will be able to make a useful contribution to. My work at Catholic University will also include giving a couple of lecture courses which should be fun, if a little daunting (for both inexperienced lecturer and non-native-English-speaker students). Unfortunately the pay is not very good, but it is enough to get by, and the University offers cheap accommodation which should mean Jin and I will finally be able to move out of her parents house.

I have found looking for a job very draining, not demanding huge amounts of time but a constant investment of energy – as opposed to working in a job, which demands large amounts of time (especially in Korea!) but is made easier by the daily routine and familiarity with the tasks involved. It is surprising how difficult the lack of daily routine was, some days I was full of energy with nothing much to do, waiting for responses of prospective employers before planning my next move; other days there was a lot to do but I felt like staying in bed (such as the NIMS presentation, two posts ago). I guess such an experience may be common to anyone seeking a job but it is the first time I have tried it, having stayed a student for as long as possible. I'm not sure how much more difficult being in a foreign country made things, although it certainly reduced my options and opportunities, which were much less widespread than I had hoped. Indeed, before coming to Korea I received much positive reassurance from Jin's friends that there was much investment in scientific research in Korea, and that universities were keen to recruit foreign staff who could teach in English. Unfortunately these aspirations have not turned into foreigner-friendly recruitment policies on the ground – positions are usually filled through personal networks and so there are few advertised positions, and information is often available only in Korean. Also the financial investment seems very heavily focussed on research leading directly to new technology (to which my specialisation does not lead itself). Having dreams of walking into a job upon my arrival certainly made the real process more painful.

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Three days after my last post was Jin's mother's birthday, and it turned out to be quite a fun occasion. On the evening before we had a small party at our house with Jin's two sisters, her older sister's husband, her uncle and her aunt (who's birthday was just a week before). Jin and her younger sister did most of the cooking (so that their mum didn't have to) – the sexual segregation of labour in Korean society being again underlined when they failed to receive much in the way of thanks, whereas I was praised to the heavens for spending a few minutes washing up afterwards. It was the first time for Jin's younger sister to have a meal with her parents after acrimoniously moving out at the end of October, and it served well as a reunion between them. I presented Jin's mum with the wrist warmers I'd made and she received them with (possibly genuine) delight, insisting on wearing them for the remainder of the night. Jin found herself politically isolated (again) within her family over the upcoming presidential elections (her younger sister would have had sympathy but was with me doing the washing up at the time) but there was no blood shed. In the course of proceedings Jin's mother, father and aunt drank rather a lot of soju, and with their usual social filters dissolved in the ethanol we set off to a karaoke club together.

I had had my first experience of the Korean noraebang (lit. song room) in Gwangju during my and Jin's tour of the country, and I had liked it. With Jin's family though it took on a whole new dimension – Jin's younger sister sang some hip new tunes, Jin's aunt is keen to learn English and so enlisted my help in producing some new covers of Beatles classics, I did my best to sing some Korean love songs, and though Jin's mother and father hit about five right notes between them that didn't stop them belting out the songs as though performing the national anthem at an international sporting event. Compared my perception of Jin's parents before that night it was a complete and shocking (but amusing) metamorphosis. The next morning though they were both totally poker-faced and giving nothing away. Jin's aunt is now desperate to go to the noraebang with us again.

You must never do a tango with an Inuit

In England I remember Christmas time usually starts around the beginning of November, with glittery accessories and monstrous 'Santa Claus and his happy raindeer' tableaux appearing in shopping centres, shortly followed by a media outcry about how commercial Christmas is these days (no doubt accompanied by a free CD of the latest mass-produced noise pollution certain to be Christmas number one this year).

Unfortunately Christmas fever seems to exist in Seoul too. I am currently in a comfortable modern cafe near Jin's parent's house, where it has become my habit to visit when in need of internet access. The food is good, the seats are comfortable, and the place bubbles with the soothing sounds of quiet conversation. So why -- oh god, why -- did they decide this week to start playing a single CD of "cheery festive songs" on a 50 minute loop in the background??? I used to quite like "I wish it could be Christmas everyday", but after you've heard it for the fifth time in a single day you start to realise why that wish isn't such a good idea. And if you don't know the song referred to in the title I suggest you find it and try to listen to it -- more ear- and mind- wretching than Britney Spears in her pre-crazy days. Just thank god He only had one son...

Tomorrow...

Do you ever feel like you're a piece of a jigsaw which doesn't really fit anywhere? Further, do you ever suspect that the cosmic jigsaw player isn't too bright, and his/her reaction to a badly fitting piece is to bash it angrily with his/her fist?

I did on Monday night. On Tuesday I was meant to be giving a presentation at the Korean National Institute for the Mathematical Sciences. Not my first contact with the Korean Scientific network by any means, but my first real chance to show off what I can do. However, I rather foolishly underestimated the amount of time it would take to make a new presentation -- reasoning that since most of the material would just come from my thesis it wouldn't be a huge challenge. It was clear by Monday morning that I still had much work to do. Still, I thought, a good focussed slog that day would crack it no problem. Something went wrong...

A couple of months ago I had an interesting discussion (with Michael) about the comparison between conceptual time (how much time seems to have passed) and time as measured by a clock or other external device. The jist (I hope) was that the label of regularity we apply to time as measured by external instruments is justified *only* by comparison to our conceptual time. Thus it is false to say that our intuative measurement of time is only as good as its agreement with external instruments, rather it is the other way round. From this point of view the clocks in Korea (and the Earth's rotation, and all the other supposedly `regular' phenomena I encountered that day) were way out. The period from when I started work at 10am and finished at 10pm can't have been more than a couple of hours. I got nothing done. To add insult to injury I started to get a headache in the afternoon (probably a combination of stress and having been hunched unmoving over my laptop) and by the late evening it had transformed into a body wetching, mind bending symphony of... not pain really, there was some pain, sure, my head ached and my stomach grumbled, but much worse was the disorientation. When I looked away from the computer screen I could barely tell whether my eyes were focussed or not, and trying to take a break felt like trying to let go of a rope holding me suspended over an abyss. The whole world was melting. It's scary what the mind can do to itself if overstressed. It was this (rather than lack of presentation) which eventually forced me to cancel the presentation (and Jin's and my outing to Daejeon).

Fortunately my contact at NIMS was very understanding and has rescheduled the presentation for Monday. This time I will finish the presentation in a relaxed manner, with regular breaks for mind-earthing activities and regular exercise -- so far so good. The cosmic jigsaw player's attention seems to have been drawn elsewhere for the time being.

Saturday is Jin's mother's birthday. I am going to knit her a pair of wrist warmers, since she has been struggling with painful and stiff hands brought on by the cold, and because it is more feasible than the alternative present of lots of money. I have noticed that when she goes shopping she has a wonderful way of looking at things presented to her by shop assistants -- suggesting the thought `am I really going to demean myself by purchacing this inferior garment?', even if she really wants it and it's a good deal. I'm sure it maximises her discount but I hope she doesn't use it on Saturday :P.