Another Goodbye

"Kita jumpa lagi, ya," he said. "Yes", I said, sadly.

It seemed like a repeated scenario, only the main players are different.

Every time I see Encik Usop, he was handing out an envelope. There's our small community of friends, Niman and husband Zainal, officers from the High Commission, Malaysian Students Department, and a sprinkling of others; familiar faces. Alas these days we meet on more sombre occasions, but all giving support and sympathy in anyway we can.

Yesterday, braving the heavy rain, we arrived at No 4 Pinchin Street in east London, and I joined Ustazah, Niman, Zailah and the mother of arwah in the small room where they were giving arwah her last bath and preparing her body before she was laid to rest in the coffin.

It was my first time. But moments and experience like this are humbling moments that make you think that whoever you are, wherever you are, and whatever you do in this life, you still return to The Creator when your time is up. It is a reminder.

The sisters from Hj Taslim Funeral Services who helped with the bath expertly did their job, treating arwah with respect and utmost dignity. There were many other rooms, with similar tasks being performed, but most didn't have the support that young arwah had. I had mistakenly gone into one room where there was only a lone worker giving someone the final bath.

It is moments like this that reminds me of the closeknit community that we have here in London. It takes an sms, a phone call about a sickness or death, and everyone will make sure they are there to give support.

I heard about arwah's sudden illness three weeks ago. By then she was already in a coma; induced coma. She was here with her parents on holiday and they were about to go home when she was taken ill. She was rushed to the hospital and stayed there in ICU till the end. She was only 12.

It was Zainal, our bilal and his wife Niman, who told me about them. They kindly took charge, looking after the family, bringing food, lending a shoulder to cry on. When the word spread, many friends visited and gave support. We held tahlils and doa selamat sessions for her recovery but she lost the fight on 6th July at about 5 o'clock.

When news spread, we were there again on 7th floor of St Mary's hospital. Only three weeks ago, I believe, we were there when news arrived that Ustaz's mother in law had passed away suddenly, after a sightseeing tour in London. I remember on the train journey to White Chapel mosque, my husband reminding me again of the doas for solat jenazah. This time, as we made the journey to East London, I needed no reminder. In the small room next to where we had given arwah her bath, we did prayers for her.

It was just last April, the same familiar faces were at another hospital, another mortuary, another cemetery, burying a friend. Al Fatehah to all.

As the jenazah was driven away to the airport for the flight back to Malaysia, I reflected on what had happened in the past few months.

Over the past few months I have learnt quite a few things. Living abroad, especially, you need the support of people around you. It helps to be a member of the Kesatuan Khairat, with people like Encik Usop, ever ready to hand out a contribution in times when you most need help. You need people who knows the ropes, who to contact, what to do. Haji Taslim of East London Mosque Funeral Service is the most important contact point. After the necessary is carried out at the hospital, doctor's certificate, coroner's report, Haji Taslim takes over preparing the jenazah. The High Commission and the Students Department are here to offer help too, especially when it involves Malaysians who are here for a visit. Ustaz Erfino and his wife, who had recently suffered a personal loss, are always around to offer their help and services.

Over the years too, I have realised this help and cooperation is extended not only to members of the community. People who were at first strangers became firm friends as we share grief and sympathy.

As I write this, the jenazah is being flown back for the burial. To the family, please accept our deepest condolence and sympathy. Semoga Allah mencucuri rahmat ke atas arwahnya dan ditempatkan bersama mereka yang beriman. Al Fatehah.

This is a blog entry by Ustaz Erfino: Al Fatihah to Adik Hanis Suraya

Note to self ....Not yet!

The surrounding, the ambience at the Radisson Hotel where the award ceremony was held was a far cry from the sea front where sea gulls squawked as they circled gracefully over the famed white cliffs of Dover. Just over twenty hours before, we were running along boats berthing at the Dover Marina. The air had turned chilly and I only had a thin cotton blouse that I had won on both days there. I was cold and looked quite a sight. But for the gala dinner at Radisson Hotel, I had to make an effort. Even then, it was an effort keeping awake and trying not to fall flat on to the plate of grilled cutlets before me.

Had I fallen flat on to the plate, I would have been news. But I didn’t. But I was so tired that I didn’t mind resting my head on the table, surrounded by bankers and financiers talking about sukuk and shariat compliant thingies. My head was still full of seagulls, sea breeze, waves lapping the sea front, and most vivid of all, the sorry sight of Zahra, my namesake, limping out of her boat after a futile, albeit brave effort to swim the Channel.

She had braved twelve hours in the cold waters, fighting the currents; she had crossed the French territory but not before strong waves forced her towards Holland; a long way away from her destination.

I was in the kitchen of the caravan in Varne Ridge, preparing fried noodles, when Lis got the sms from the pilot boat that Zahra had been persuaded to give up. I wasn’t totally surprised that she had to be persuaded because Zahra is one plucky lass. She wanted to do the whole length, she wanted to feel the sandy beach of Calais on her feet and reach the destination reached by so many before her. But she didn’t and she couldn’t…not yet.

The caravan site at Varne Ridge

The noodles I prepared were for the group that accompanied her on the pilot boat. They must be famished after more than twelve hours on the boat. Then they were also her siblings and many more who had come to give support. I felt, I needed to do so – after all the caravan with the small kitchen had been ours for the day. We nipped into Asda to get the necessary things. Before that we had a tough time searching for internet cafes to send our stories. We found one in Folkstone but then again my ftp was interrupted a few times and I almost gave up.

Doa selamat for Zahra

The night before, we arrived Dover at almost midnight. Encik Arof, Zahra’s coach fetched us and took us to our caravan. Zahra had gone to sleep in her caravan. She needed the strength and the energy to see her through. I couldn’t sleep and had to catch up with some other work. At about 3am, there was a knock on my door – a party from London had arrived. The guests were from the Malaysian High Commission and the Malaysian Students Department. I played host and made them tea, while we waited for Zahra and her family to get ready. After subuh, we gathered outside the caravan and after a brief doa selamat, we left for Dover Marina.

Zahra was initially and understandably nervous. When we reached the Marina, her mother took her aside and mother and daughter had a few quiet moment together. That seemed to work and we saw a more confident and cheerful Zahra.

I hugged her a few times before she boarded the small boat. With her was her father, her coach, the pilot and observer from The Channel Swimmers and Piloting Federation, a cameraman and Qabbin from Kelab Ekspedisi Ekstrim 7 Benua. We gave her a quiet send off. It was too early in the morning to be shouting Malaysia Boleh.

The view at Samphire Hoe

We then rushed to Samphire Hoe “one of the few places that you can truly appreciate the drama of the White Cliffs”. That is also the place where we hoped to catch a glimpse of the boat and Zahra making her swim. Well, just about.

After more than half an hour, I realised I was looking at the wrong boat!

Zahra, we were told started the swim at 0607 on 1st July 2009 from Shakespeare Beach.

Our work had just begun. And without any sleep and without internet connection, it proved to be a long day.

A drive to Folkstone and I found myself at Starbuck café and after three top ups, managed to send my stories. By then I was beginning to feel that I am much too old to be doing this. I felt really exhausted and tired. I have done my time, I've had my fair share of innings. But for now, I know I had just enough energy to cook. I wanted to cook for Zahra for when she returned. Then perhaps I will hang up my laptop and let it go to sleep.

We were told that she stopped the swim at 6.20 in the evening. When I saw the boat turning to berth, I caught sight of Zahra underneath piles of blankets. She looked sunburnt and tired. My heart went out to her.

Zahra on arrival

She had to be helped out of the boat and arms linked, I walked her back to the car.

She repeated many times that she could have made it. Tears ran down her cheeks, and mine. More tears ran down my cheeks when I saw the video recordings of Taib Suhut, who captured the moment she was persuaded to give up. As Paul the pilot cajoled her, Zahra waved frantically, signalling that she wanted to go on.



Paul said, “ You have done very well. The channel will always be here for you.”

Zahra tried to climb up. Then her legs gave in and she fell back into the water. The waves were quite high. Once on board, she was inconsolable. She felt she had let her supporters and sponsors down.

Zahra had done 12 hours in the water; with strong currents and high waves. The day before, three swimmers had given up in lesser time. I know I will see Zahra again. I will wait for her return to conquer the Channel, Insyaallah.

I spoke to her the next morning. She was chirpy and back to her old self. She had also eaten the mee goreng, before going back to have a swim at the harbour. Zahra is not about to give up.

Posing while waiting...

Maybe this Zaharah too shouldnt give up... not yet.

All the best Zahra and Godspeed!

She stood on top of the famous white cliff of Dover, her eyes looking across the vast volume of water, trying to make out her destination. The lighthouse of Calais was not visible due to the haze at that time of the evening, but she knew that when it appears in the horizon as she makes the solo marathon swim tomorrow, it will be a welcome sight. And when her feet touches the sand, she will know that she has made it.

Zahra Masoumah is a young lass, barely eighteen but her determination to conquer the Channel following the strides of Malik and Lennard Lee, is almost single minded, almost unshakeable.

The water, she admits, is cold and there were nights when she stayed up worrying whether she could make it. The distance she can handle. From Shakespeare Beach, where Malik and Lennard began their swim, to Calais is roughly about 35 km. She had done 45 kilometers before, but in warmer waters, and in more familiar surroundings. But the currents can be cruel. I had personally seen Malik struggling, with success, against strong currents, when he was swimming in Lake Zurich. I was accompanying him in a boat (not a swimmer myself) and for almost three hours, I swear, he was in the same spot. The currents kept pushing him back to the same place.

My visit to see the family in Dover last week was almost a deja vous. I remember the trips in 2003, everytime it was announced that Malik was going to make the swim. And then, several times the swim was aborted due to bad weather.

We received news yesterday that Zahra is to swim at 5am on 1 July. And Insyaallah, she will make it.

Home for Zahra and her family for the past one month is a three bedroom caravan at a beautiful caravan site, Varne Ridge, overlooking the Channel. It had also been home to hundreds of cross channel swimmers from all over the world, among them, Lennard.

When I arrived, Zahra and her sister, also Zahra, were helping their mother make jemput-jemput for afternoon tea. The boys, being boys, were running up and down, enjoying the unusual sunshine. The smell of jemput-jemput in the frying pan, the squeels of laughter from the boys and the heat – its almost like Malaysia. But it is not. Just several meters away, is the vast volume of water where Zahra will spend a good part of the day tomorrow, swimming with all her might.

Unlike Malik, her swim will start at 5 am. If we can make it to Shakespeare Beach, we can witness the start as she jumps off the boat, swim to the 400 meters away from the shore and start her feat when she hears or sees the signal.

I was at Shakespeare Beach in 2003, at one am to be exact. The area leading down to the beach is private property but somehow, we got permission and thus made our way down to the beach, in pitch darkness. The white cliff of Dover stood hovering menacingly. The doves and seagulls were nowhere to be seen. It was eerily quiet, except of course, when the early morning was broken by shouts of Malaysia Boleh by the Malik’s handful supporters.

But what I remember too well is also the sandflies. As soon as my cameraman switched on the lights and the camera, they came in thousands, if not millions.

But another sight that remained with me until now is the appearance of three small boats in the dark. Then Malik jumped. Three hoots and away he went; soon he was just a dot bobbing up and down in the waters.

Insyaallah, I will wait at Dover Harbour for news of her success, and I will wait there too for her return. For now, let us wish Zahra all the best in her endeavour. May Allah keep her safe all the way and back.

Remembering Pak

The aroma of the curve cut tobacco, war time stories, tokohoon plasters and fighting over newspapers to do crossword puzzles always remind me of Pak. A kind, generous man until he died. Today I remember Pak and I remember the song Sri Mersing that he wanted us to buy from the record shop down the road, but we never did.
Here, Kak Teh remembers Pak.

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A wife’s gotta do what a wife’s gotta do

It has been a long time since I wrote anything GUiT. But the time has come for me to do my wifely duties and write things GUiT again.

I vividly remember the day we received the news that GUiT was finally going to be published. To say that I was more overjoyed and over the moon compared to the writer is not far from the truth. I was ecstatic. Deliriously so. He, being the man he is, was more composed, allowing only a smile and later broke into a brief jig around the room with the children. But that is him.

The day the books arrived, hot from the printers in Singapore, we were again overjoyed; my smile never left my face and for months it ached because I was/is that proud of my Awang Goneng.

We had the books delivered for the soft launch at the Royal Asiatic Society in London and I took to bringing five to ten books with me in my huge bag, the writer himself not suspecting anything. People I met at functions, press conferences and even from across the road, were targeted as possible buyers and readers of GUiT.

Take this for example: an interview with the then Foreign Minister. When I finished the interview, I boldly said: Can I interest you in a book written by my husband?

Of course he was interested, for he himself writes books and later congratulated AG personally.

Then there was the time we went to the bank and I saw a familiar face at the till. He was from the former cabinet, in charge of Finance. Once it was confirmed it was him, I said my salam and had small chats. AG began retreating in the background suspecting that any minute then, Iwas going to whip out GUiT to the unsuspecting former minister. And of course I did.

By then I was resigned to the fact that my husband only wanted to write the book and keep them all locked up in his cupboard. He'd shy away from any GUiT talk so much so I had to be the spokesperson, the salesperson and the pr all in one.

He worries that people might not find it interesting; a book he wrote only for his children, about his growing up years in a small town in Trengganu. About the Trengganu still alive in his memories. But I knew better.

I was on assignment in Paris two years ago. And then I decided to return the generosity of our Culture Minster who had kindly given me his book. So, I signed a book on AG's behalf and sent it through his officer. Within a week, I received orders for 500 books, and much later 500 more.

And there were many more. I took some books to a seminar in Liverpool and I believe I sold more books than the book stall outside the conference room.

So, imagine my shock when I read that in Malaysia the books were not selling and people couldn't find it anywhere. So, I went back, initially to attend the launch of the book alone in Singapore as the writer himself felt that he couldn't/wouldn't make the journey. (But later, I somehow twisted anything twistable, and he relented and came along).

My first few days in KL, I went around the bookshops and I couldn't find GUiT anywhere - not in MPH, Kino or anywhere. I was devastated. Those I found were sandwiched between Dina Zaman's I am Muslim and Lydia Teh's Life's Like That. Or hidden behind mountains of Samy Velloos!

So, it was then that I decided that I had to do something. There's no limit to a wifely duty. I approached a manager at a bookshop, explained my predicament, my frustrations. My husband, had he been there would have fainted with embarrassment. But, the manager, bless him, saw the book, believed in its potential and made just one phonecall that within one week saw GUiT in the best sellers list.

It was less hard work after that, though I still carry a copy or two in my bag these days.

The reason I am doing this promotion again is simple; GUiT has been shortlisted for the Popular-Star Readers Choice Awards 2009 for non fiction. Here's the list:

Yvonne Lee - Vanity Drive: The Vagaries of Women's Vanity
Sheik Mustapha Shukor Al-Masrie - Reach for the Stars
Adeline Loh - Peeing in the Bush
Adibah Amin - Glimpses : Cameos of Malaysian Lives
Paddy Bowie - Datuk Teh Hong Pow : Banking Thoroughbred
Kee Thuan Chye : March 8: The Day Malaysia Woke Up
Tun Mahathir & Tan Sri Abdullah Ahmad - Dr. Mahathir's Letters to World Leaders
Rustam A. Sani - Failed Nation? Concerns of a Malaysian Nationalist
Amir Muhammad - New Malaysian Essays 1
Awang Goneng - Growing Up in Terengganu

According to Sharon Bakar: Voting will be once again via the Star's Reads Monthly Supplement. The bookstore is organising promotions of the books and from June onwards, customers that visit POPULAR outlets will get 20% discount when they buy any of the nominated books. The winner will be announced at Bookfest @ Malaysia 2009.

So, if you've not read GuiT, give t a try. Below are just some of you who helped make GUiT a success!! Thank you!!!

.


And AG, Happy Father's Day!!!

Horrible Week

Let me complete the trilogy; Lousy Week by Puteri Kamaliah, Crazy Week by Kay_Leeda and now Horrible Week by Kak Teh.

It has indeed been a horrible week for me; one that saw me almost holed up in my room, most of the time cutting myself off from the outside world. Summer has come back with a vengeance to London and perhaps to the whole of UK. And with summer comes the dreaded pollen. While people are out there enjoying the sunshine, I try to keep away in the shade and as far as possible from flowers and plants.


Even when I go out, these sweet smelling flowers peer out of hedges and bushes to sneer at me; they taunt me and tease me until I sneeze my lungs out. I try to avoid them, but at every turn, at every corner, they are there waiting to ambush my nostrils with thousands if not trillions of these invisible enemies of mine.

I have been such a wretched soul; going around bleary eyed and nose as red as Rudolf’s. I try to stifle a sneeze especially in crowded tubes and lifts in case I cause a panic rush, considering that swine flu is making the headlines these days. I am considering wearing a mask, with “hayfever not swine flu” written across it. My cheap fake sunglasses from the marketplace in Seamreap has been most useful.


A few days ago, just when I thought the air was clear, I made my way to the Royal Albert Hall to see Kakak and adik – talented and beautiful children of blogger Atok and his wife, Hezel, who are in the musical The King and I at The Royal Albert Hall. Throughout the show, I prayed hard not to sneeze right onto the head of the person sitting right in front of me. There were some very tense moments when all was quiet and my throat started tickling so badly and the more I tried not to cough, the worse t became till tears started rolling down my cheeks. It was that bad!

It was such a wonderful musical, especially as it was adik’s debut. Adik or Sofea had always been in the sideline waiting for kakak’s auditions and rehearsals. But her patience paid off when she too was offered a part to be one of the King’s youngest daughters. And she is such a natural!

Sarah and Sofea with Lost actor Daniel Dae Kim who plays the King of Siam at RAH

My hayfever became so bad that evening, so much so I had to give away my invite to the reception at the end of the show that evening. Thus I missed my chance to meet up with Lost actor Daniel Dae Kim, but kakak and adik took pictures with him.

Kakak and adik and another talented Malaysian actor Samantha Tan are following the footsteps of other Malaysian actors such as Sean Ghazi and Ungku Jalil who took part in The King and I when it was playing in the West End some years ago.



I did an interview with kakak, her mum and also Samantha for the community radio, nusoundradio. Click below if you want to listen to my oh so nasal voice.


The next day, we were invited to a friend’s house and while everyone was enjoying her beautiful garden, I kept myself indoors. Feeling self pity setting in, I stuffed my face with lots and lots of strawberries and double cream. So, while the sun is out, I will try to stay in. Yes, it has been such a horrible week, apart from that wonderful evening at the Royal Albert Hall and the strawberries at Annabel’s.

Of meetings with Pak Zawi, Tunku Halim and Anak Si Hamid

The longer I procrastinate the harder it becomes to start writing again. I have not been far away from the blog world; I’d look in and read some of my favourite blogs and see what they are up to and then retreat to a safe distance where I can concentrate on some other work. Since the trip to Europe, I haven’t been too well either. It is summer and summer’s never kind to me.

Anyway, suffice to say, I am quite busy this time of the year and I am trying my level best to finish off some work so that I can then find a ticket to go home. I need to go home.

Wokay, let me sum up what I’ve been up to recently. I’ve been meeting a lot of blogger friends, actually. London is full of Malaysians; coachloads and coachloads of Malaysians in and around London, helping to prop up the British economy! And I am not complaining as the sterling is getting stronger.

With Pak Zawi and Wife
Last week, we had the pleasant company of Pak Zawi and his wife. They were among the coachloads of Malaysians who were touring Europe. We met up at Malaysia Hall and Pak Zawi is kind enough to give me some pictures that we took together. My camera and my phone gave up on me and I had to rely on Pak Zawi’s camera.
Read about his tour here.

Just before Pak Zawi and co, we met up with Tunku Halim who came all the way from Tasmania with his family. He brought with him his new book: History of Malaysia, A Children’s Encyclopedia. This is one book I had been looking for to give my children. It is beautifully done too and with this encyclopedia, Tunku is now a publisher! He very kindly paid for our dinner and after that I took the opportunity to interview him. And this is the result of the interview. I have been experimenting with podcasting and I had always wanted to bring a new dimension to this blog. This is Kak Teh in conversation with Tunku Halim – do excuse the very nasal sound – I am still all bunged up with hayfever.
I've got my podbean blog here: Kak Teh's Talk Show
or click here: Kak Teh in Conversation with Tunku Halim

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(L)Kak Teh in Conversation with Tunku Halim and (R)History of Malaysia,: A Children's Encyclopedia

By the way, Tunku Halim is on the way back to Malaysia this very minute and he will be talking about his new book and about self publishing on 14th June – 2-3 pm at MPH Midvalley and 4-5 pm at The Curve. Catch up with him there!

And oh, oh, oh, guess who else I met last week? I was so excited when I received an email from a blogger that she and her husband were coming to London. We agreed to meet up as we needed to exchange a few things. They turned up early and we were fashionably late!

But all was well in the end and when we fell into each other’s arms, it was as if we had known each other for a long time. Yes, Anak SiOthman finally met up with Anak SiHamid! And Awang Goneng got on famously with Iain Buchanan who wrote and beautifully illustrated Fatimah’s Kampung. My next radio programme will certainly be Kak Teh in Conversation with Iain Buchanan! I just love Iain's drawings, but more about that later!

(L)Anak SiHamid and Anak SiOthman and (R)When Awang Meets Iain Buchanan

It was just a short meeting but we managed rice with asam pedas and masak lemak ayam and teh tarik and cucur badak and Early Grey tea in two sittings, before they went off to catch the coach back to Leicester. We promise that the next meeting would be in Leceister and thanks Rocky Bru for bringing us together.

So, that’s it – and I hope it wont be too long before I write again. As I am writing this, my other half is making treks to meet up with blogger Mat Salo, who is also in town. This is the second day of the tube strike and I decided to stay at home and wait for my sayang mama to come back and tell me about his History paper.

So, there and phew!

ps. a few months earlier, met up with blogger Dr Bubbles and Kenny Mah and Sharon Bakar, and next month, there are more bloggers heading this way!

A Walkabout in Paris

Paris is not a place to walk around in a pair of tattered old shoes with no brandname. But around Paris I did, acutely aware that the heels which started giving problems in Amsterdam were going to make a hasty departure in Paris. But the heels clung on to dear life throughout my trip. In fact, it survived the vineyards of Bouzy and made it with aplomb at poco-poco in Paris.

Inching along Champs-Élysées, a five minute walk from our cosy little hotel, in search of a decent bite, brandnames upon brandnames jumped up at me. It is not a place to be if you can’t pronounce, never mind afford the LVs, the Chanels or Christian Dior , Christian Lacroix, Yves Saint Laurent, and Van Cleef & Arpels, to name but a few.

It was an unusually warm afternoon in Paris and in fact the whole of Europe was bathed in sunshine, so out came my sunglasses; a five-dollar fake something from a marketplace in Siem Reap. Through the tinted glasses, I could see that almost everyone was carrying an LV, the way people carry the Primark carrier bags here. I was again acutely aware of the bag with no name, clinging faithfully on my shoulder.

The Parisians, I must say, have style. They are chic from top to bottom.

We made our way to Notre Dame near the Latin Quarter and the famous Shakespeare’s Bookshop. It has always been my favourite eating place but we dilly-dallied, taking in the promise of sales from the shop windows, mentally working out Euros in pound sterling until the sun disappeared from the horizon and rendered the Arc de Triomphe even more majestic at night.

Notre Dame is magically transformed at dusk; the lighting does wonders to the Parisian sky, reflected in the Seine as cruise boats ply the tourists to take in the sights of the French capital. Lovers at street corners, on benches and along the bridge swayed and cuddled to the beat of African drums from the sidewalk.

From the 388 eateries offering kebabs to sushis and seafood galore, we found a halal Moroccan with couscous and chicken tagine. The place was indeed a tourist attraction, and if there was anything to learn about tourist attractions, this is the place to see and learn. There is no use opening up big restaurants where there’s no character and no soul.

That night, almost midnight, we decided to walk back until our legs could no longer carry us. But before we gave in to hailing a taxi, we took in Paris by night, stopping to admire the bridges and the Baroque architecture. Cutting across the park, with its numerous statues, we were mesmerised by Eiffel Tower in the distance, which started shimmering against the summer sky. It was quite a sight that halted the treks of most walkers; whipping out their cameras to capture the moment. Alas, for amateur photographer like me, Eiffel Tower emerged a big white blob. Apparently the Eiffel Tower light show lasts for ten minutes every hour and we caught it just before midnight.

Here's one I got online:

The Eiffel Tower Light Show

Suffice to say, this trip took me to several places I had never been before such as the magnificient Chateau de Versailles or The Palace of Versailles to see its beautiful gardens. There were miles and miles of queues from every direction. And then there was Jardin du Luxembourg, a garden populated with statues and a large lake for sailing model boats. Apparently these model boats are not remotely controlled and are modelled on the original boats that sailed with the power of the wind.

Crouching Tiger Actress + Famous Shoe Designer = Malaysis's Got Talents

As if to put a perfect end to a very interesting trip, the bonus on the last day was a meeting with Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon actress, Michelle Yeoh. The jet setting actress had just returned from the Cannes Festival, before setting off again to Hong Kong, or was it China and then back to Malaysia for a documentary. And not a bag under those famous eyes.


A Charlie's Angels Remake? In front of Versaille
Note to self: Time I get meself a new pair of shoes and perhaps a more effective eye gel.






Kak Teh's other adventures in Paris:
To Paris with a Mission