The Tent

Soundflower & Audacity

2010-05-30T19:06:00.003+08:00

Recording from an audio stream in real time is sometimes necessary when files are not available for download. Worse still if there is no direct digital feed ripper for the stream.

With Windows, one only has to switch the recording input to 'Wave' to record whatever is played by the soundcard. With the Mac, it isn't as simple. For the Mac, internet audio goes directly from source to soundcard to output.

So, what I learnt is that you can use Soundflower to act as an output target, bypassing the soundcard, AND as an input source, hence allowing recording from it.

Having installed Soundflower, the Sound Preferences need to be set to use it as Output and Input:

And using a simple audio recorder like Audacity, the recording can then be exported as an mp3.

Growing Into Our True Freedom

2010-04-17T19:40:00.001+08:00

In today's Daily Meditation for April 17, 2010 written by Henri Nouwen, I am reminded that freedom does not come naturally even when oppression is absent. Rather it is an inner life which we must cultivate by internalising the realities of God's grace.

In Nouwen's own sagely words:
'True freedom is the freedom of the children of God. To reach that freedom requires a lifelong discipline since so much in our world militates against it. The political, economic, social, and even religious powers surrounding us all want to keep us in bondage so that we will obey their commands and be dependent on their rewards.

But the spiritual truth that leads to freedom is the truth that we belong not to the world but to God, whose beloved children we are. By living lives in which we keep returning to that truth in word and deed, we will gradually grow into our true freedom.'ow@yahoo.com,
by email_lists@henrinouwen.org

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Amateur graphic designer

2009-11-04T11:41:00.002+08:00

It's always fun to learn new skills. And especially when a Mac is there to serve you.

This is my experiment with designing a brochure for our annual society biggie. Not bad for a surgeon no?

I had to climb all the way up Mt Kinabalu for that sunrise shot (from our climb in 2006), for your information! I don't think any printing company would do that for you...

Bluetooth tethering so easy

2009-10-03T09:34:00.004+08:00

I've successfully bypassed the useless Sony Ericsson Mobile Networking Wizard and m-Router! It used to be that I had to depend on the extremely unreliable software suite provided by SE to tether my notebook to my Sony Ericsson P1i's 3G connection with Maxis. Phone'undetected' and connections 'refused' were common.

I really should've thought of this a long time ago, but hey, better late than never.

The process is easy and results are consistent. For the first time:
1- Create a bluetooth serial port connection with the phone modem
2- Connect the bluetooth serial port
3- Create a PPP dialup connection
4- Use username:maxis, password:wap, and dialup number *99***1#
5- Connect using that connection

After setting it up, step 5 is all that's needed to connect in seconds.

Revisiting Work Theology

2009-09-22T00:50:00.004+08:00

I spent a lot of time reading, thinking and even teaching the integration of faith and work during my varsity days. Having completed my Masters, armed with hard-earned knowledge and skills, I reentered the work force with a passion for great work.

Instead I descended into a major crisis in my early years as a specialist. I was busy, but the work I was doing was nowhere near the kind of challenge and excitement I had envisioned for years. That in its own way was depressing. I got through those early years of meaning-less-ness by seeking and creating opportunities for my own growth... which I succeeded in doing. But in turn I became a victim of my own success. I became chronically overworked. Five years down the line, having tasted both extremes of too-little and too-much,... I'm glad to revisit work theology with new eyes.

I've started reading Matthew Fox's 'The Reinvention of Work - A New Vision of Livelihood for Our Time', and I'm excited just by the introduction. If I could summarise his thesis/rationale for the book in my own words:

The institution of WORK can be defined as an individually unique expression of our inner beings, in co-creating with God, allowing us to connect with the world (environment and human) by virtue of serving it, hence making us conduits for blessing.

Even as Fox describes these themes, though he doesn't explicitly refer to it, I can see how he unpacks the creation narrative - man as steward-caretakes of creation, blessed to be fruitful, representative authorities of God to sustain the order and harmony of creation, and to fill it with the same functional beauty in which it was created.

Life and livelihood, work and jobs ought to be a functional unity. 'To live well is to work well', Fox quotes Hilden. And 'jobs are to work as leaves are to trees' - subordinate but contributory. Lose the theology of work and jobs lose their meaning.

He then looks at the major crises of modern man as really the result of that, the corruption of our view of work:
1. Disintegration of work-job unity -- leads to meaningless work
2. Reduced create-ivity in the AUTOMATION of the industrial and post-industrial age -- spawning psychological ill-health, entertainment industry, environmental degradation and even unemployment
3. End of co-creating, conduiting blessing, and connection by service with regnant CONSUMERISM -- dulls our sensitivities to moral, political and spiritual issues, enslaves us and substitutes true living

The major environmental crisis and occupation-related health impact should wake us up to redefine work. If we in our industries are killing the planet and ourselves in the process, there must be something very wrong with the way we work. The need of the moment is to recover the spiritual and rediscover values of justice, compassion and a sense of beauty in work. Fox calls us to be prophets, who 'by definition - interfere' to call society back in this critical moment in history. It is a time of 'metanoia'.

As I write this I get the sense that 'reevaluating' and 'redefining' work is not enough. I don't think I'm even ready for that if I am so submerged in the work-job dualism and consumerist culture of the day that it is impossible to pull myself out of it, by my own bootstraps as the saying goes. The biblical picture of work seems to be a fantastical far-away ideal that is nowhere near practicable nor do we see it often embodied in any person or work-body. If we/I have never seen it in real life (imagery) or tasted the experience of it,.. how can we work towards it?

Healthy pride

2009-08-02T12:43:00.006+08:00

It's good to have a little science to reinforce the point that healthy pride is important for self-esteem. Self-abasement masquerading as humility neither dignifies the 'image of God' in us nor helps us grow as persons. The author points out that a healthy self-esteem not only spurs you on but also encourages others to esteem you more correctly - 'pride, as long as it stems from a real success and doesn't slide into know-it-all obnoxiousness or narcissism, not only pushes us to keep trying hard but actually makes others like us more..'

In short, let's bin self-flagellating false modesty and be real so that others can also relate to the real you.

If you are in the habit of self-devaluation, it may be helpful to do a little reality check from time to time. Ask yourself:
1. Have I received any words of appreciation or approval recently?
2. Did I display some virtue recently?
3. Did I perform some job with particular competence?
4. Has someone commented about something attractive in me?
5. What do I know from religious scripture about God's love for me?

Feeling proud makes people more dominant and likable in social tasks

Think back to the last time that you beat a friend at a card game or outdid your previous record in a 5K race. Did you try to suppress your satisfaction so that others wouldn't think you were conceited? In fact, new research suggests that pride, as long as it stems from a real success and doesn't slide into know-it-all obnoxiousness or narcissism, not only pushes us to keep trying hard but actually makes others like us more.

"Contrary to the idea that pride is an emotion that we should tamp down, the experience of pride can be very socially adaptive," says Lisa Williams, a graduate student in psychology at Northeastern University and the new study's lead author. She and Northeastern psychologist David DeSteno found that people who were told they had excelled on a spatial rotation task subsequently took more control over a similar, team-based task, regardless of their mood or how competent they reported feeling. Both teammates and outside observers rated proud participants as more dominant and as more likable than participants who had not been tricked into feeling proud.

The study did not examine the signals proud people send that make others like them, but other research has shown that feeling pleased with yourself tends to change a person's subtle nonverbal behaviors — for example, triggering more smiling or a more confident posture.

Carpenter, Siri
Scientific American Mind; 2009, Vol. 20 Issue 4, p9

Scene from the underworld

2009-08-01T23:04:00.003+08:00

Malaysian: Oi Lu Si Hami Lang?
Singaporean: Sinkapoh lang lor...
Malaysian: Cho Ha Mi Lu Bo Ming Kia Chiak, Boh Cheng Kor?
Singaporean: Lu Em Chai Meh? Sin Ka Poh Beh Sai Burn Liao.
Malaysian: Ani Cham Eh? Wah U iPhone 3GS, Mercedes 10series, GPS, Bungalow, Chap eh maid...
Singaporean: Wah Hami Toh Boh... Jiak Sai Nia..

Gifts for the dead could be dying out in Singapore

Men are autocannibalistic but not women?

2009-08-01T22:58:00.002+08:00

This is the strangest thing I've read in scientific literature ever. Apparently men's neurons are programmed to self-destruct in starvation (eg. an ischemic stroke) while women's will burn surrounding fat. Now why would we be wired that way? A man would be better off dead than brain dead but it's ok for women to be brain-damaged because no one would tell the difference? (Let's see who will flame me for this... 1, 2, 3,...)

Starvation brings out sex differences in brain cells

Scientists have long known of dissimilarities in anatomy and activity between the brains of women and men — now a rodent study shows that even individual neurons behave differently depending on sex.

Robert Clark of the University of Pittsburgh School of Medicine and his colleagues found that cultured neurons from female rats and mice survived longer than did neurons from their male counterparts when facing starvation. Such sex differences had been evident for decades in other body tissues, but so far no one had looked at brain cells, Clark says. When he and his team deprived the cells of nutrients, female neurons consumed mainly fat resources to stay alive, whereas large amounts of male cells started to eat up their own protein-based building blocks — and subsequently died.

The findings suggest that tailoring nutrition to a patient's gender during critical care — for example, after illnesses that temporarily cut off the brain's nutrient supply, such as stroke — might help prevent brain cell death, Clark posits. Men's neurons might fare better on a high-protein diet, for instance, whereas high fat content would probably nourish women's brain cells best, he adds.

Self-cannibalism makes sense for body tissues other than the brain, but why male neurons engaged in it to such a large extent is a mystery, Clark says. "You can understand why during famine, you would want to break down muscle to preserve the rest of your body, but it's harder to understand why you would want to break down proteins within your brain."

Branan, Nicole
Scientific American Mind; 2009, Vol. 20 Issue 4, p9

Dont talk about it

2009-08-01T22:34:00.004+08:00

Now we know for sure sitting around and complaining never helped anyone. There's a difference between ventilating (to get it off your chest) and ruminating (going on and on to reinforce the excuse for inaction.) This is the very reason I avoid inter-collegiate bitch sessions or meet-the-VIP forums. Nothing positive ever comes out of these; if anything they concretize the negativity and lead to more depression as this little study featured in Sci Am Mind shows.

Too much chat about their problems may lead middle school-age girls into depression, according to a recent study at Stony Brook University. Past research indicates that girls are more likely than boys are to co-ruminate, repeatedly discussing difficulties with friends, speculating about causes and excessively dwelling on negative emotions. In the new study, psychologists confirmed that girls who co-ruminate more often than their peers have more depressive symptoms. They also found a new link with romantic experience: co-rumination was most likely to result in depressive symptoms among girls who were most active romantically.

Scientific American Mind; 2009, Vol. 20 Issue 4, p7

Close calls count

2009-08-01T22:21:00.007+08:00

If GAME OVER happens very close to my high score, I just have to play again. Doesn't matter if it takes me ages to reach that level and it's past midnight. Addiction? Maybe. Sci Am Mind features a study that shows we are wired that way; fascinatingly, to keep us breaking our own ceiilings. I realise I choose subjects, projects and sports that have high potential for discovery and pushing limits. Now I know why.

To our brain, a near miss is as good as a win

Close but no cigar, the saying goes. But new research shows that when it comes to gambling, the human brain seems to take a very different approach. In our head, near misses, such as a lottery ticket just one number away from the jackpot, are interpreted as wins.

Using functional MRI, Luke Clark of the University of Cambridge and his colleagues looked at the brains of 15 volunteers who were playing a computerized slot machine. Unsurprisingly, wins activated the players' reward system, whereas complete misses did not. When the wheel stopped just one position from the pay line, however, the reward system of volunteers' brains got excited the same way it did after a win — there was much activity in the striatum and the insula, areas involved in reinforcing behavior with positive feedback.

This type of reinforcement makes sense in behaviors that involve actual skill, such as target shooting, because a sense of reward provides encouragement to keep practicing, Clark says. "A near miss in a game of chance doesn't mean that you are getting better," he notes, yet it seems that the brain mistakenly activates the same type of reinforcement learning system in these situations.

The findings expose the underpinnings of gambling addiction, according to Clark. Even though all volunteers were nongamblers, those whose brain showed a greater response in the scanner also reported feeling more desire to continue trying after near misses. Excessive recruitment of these reward areas, therefore, may be a risk factor for compulsive gambling, Clark says.

Scientific American Mind; 2009, Vol. 20 Issue 4, p6.

Facing difficult circumstances

2009-05-03T15:11:00.002+08:00

With the recent and current increase in difficult circumstances (aka shit) I have been facing, I realise I must evolve in my problem management for long-term survival and to preserve my home and sanity.

When the same experience keeps recurring, it's a signal to take steps to move beyond it. I need to grow. And sometimes growing means getting new eyes to see rather than moving on to new vistas (ala Marcel Proust). When problems come in an onslaught, too many to handle, I either become paralysed or regress to primitive coping strategies (ala Jean Piaget and Aaron Beck) - ie. moralistic, absolutistic, irreversible, non-dimensional, generalising, character-judging, invariant, and personalising thought patterns.

The weak thought patterns are especially that:

I allow problems to accumulate without resolution

I overestimate the difficulty of individual problems

I take an all-or-nothing view of each problem

(The two anxiety-provoking and stress-inducing mechanisms are in predicted difficulty and impact/implications).

New strategies should include:

Solving the problem immediately where possible

Consciously estimate the difficulty on a scale of 1-10

Consciously estimate the implications on a scale of 1-10

Anticipated Impact = Probability X Perceived Impact (AI = Pr X PeI)

and

Anticipated Difficulty = Probability x Perceived Difficulty (AD = Pr x PeD)

The strategies above aims to:

Reduce the AD by adjusting the PeD

Reduce the AI by adjusting the PeI

Eliminate the AD and AI by approximating 0 in the Pr

Methods of reducing PeD and PeI is to tackle

Labeling (’ridiculous, unbelievable, disastrous’)

All-or-nothing thinking (’completely, impossible’)

Magnification

Ah Pak San 2

2009-04-19T12:54:00.018+08:00

Somewhere between the two entrances, Saga and Awana lies the peaks - Saga and Cuepacs

My second trip up Ah Pak San. This time I defied my old bones and made it all the way.

I got up at 7am in spite of a late night fiddling with the 1TB WD My Book. I think my body was psyched to do it all of yesterday so I was on biological alarm clock mode. Since I was up and wide-eyed, I decided, WTH, let's go torture myself.

I didn't have breakfast. I didn't have coffee. I decided to go with nothing on my back but a towel and my car keys.

Station 6 is the Cuepacs peak or Ah Pak San

It was painful. But good. I made it to Station 6 in 45mins, which I understand is actually the peak of Ah Pak San. After mucking around for a few ticks, I continued on to Saga Hill Top.
To my delight, the trail between the two peaks is really a plateau. I walked some 20 minutes to the Saga peak which is little more than a shack. A few hammocks and swings are there to welcome the weary climber. I decided to swing a little on the hammock - oh what I would've given for a cup of coffee and nasi lemak then.

Note to myself: pack nasi lemak and coffee next time.

I descended slowly, smelling the flowers and admiring the mosses and fire ants rather than rush through like a horror flick with pontianak on my heels. Actually my feet were killing me.

1 Terabyte of Time Travel

2009-04-19T12:35:00.006+08:00

I couldn't resist it when I saw it at Machines yesterday.

1 Terabyte of External Hard Disk space, with Firewire 800, 400, USB 2.0 and eSATA connectivity. Plus compatibility with Mac's Time Machine. I had to have it. Plus I was really running out of space on my internal 500GB HDD. Even Jack Sparrow needs extra booty chests and a larger hull, no?

The Western Digital My Book Studio Edition boasts a transfer rate of 800Mb/s with Firewire 800 (as compared to 480Mb/s on USB2.0) and comes with its own auto backup & restore software. I've tried both and the Mac's Time Machine is way cooler.

I've partitioned the aircraft carrier to two equal portions: one for backup and the other for storage (not very clever nomenclature, I'm sorry) of videos and music. I've rerouted Miro and iTunes to read from the external drive and it works like magic.

Time Machine took the entire night to collate my data, back up the entire system, and start the updating process for hourly (x1/7), weekly (x4/52) and 1 month's archiving.

Chris Botti: Italia

2009-04-18T14:00:00.006+08:00

Is it the Martin Committee Handcraft trumpet with a 3 silver plated mouthpiece from Bach? Or the Miles Davis inspiration? Or could it be the Larry McVey, David Baker and Bill Adam jazz school training? Whatever it is, they are all outbreathed through the lips of one Chris Botti to produce music like I've never heard before.

His notes are measured. His technique perfect. His style understated yet unmistakably one of a virtuoso. But most of all it's his soulful yet not morbid, true-to-genre yet original interpretation of a set of classics that make for a penetrating auditory experience in Italia.

This 2007 release rounds up some of the grandest music we know:
1. Deborah's Theme From "Once Upon A Time In America"
2. Italia
3. Venice
4. The Very Thought Of You
5. Gabriel's Oboe
6. I've Grown Accustomed To Her Face
7. Caruso
8. The Way You Look Tonight
9. It Never Entered My Mind
10. Ave Maria
11. Estate
12. Nessun Dorma

Most of it is orchestral and stately - Nessun Dorma, Deborah's theme, Ave Maria.
Venice, Caruso, The Way You Look Tonight balances the contemplative mix with some smooth chill.
The Very Thought of You made me ache inside, Italia (featuring Andrea Bocelli) made me grieve quietly, but the rendition of Gabriel's Oboe simply broke my dam and had me weeping uncontrollably 4 bars into the song. This has never happened to me before, I assure you.

One of the few productions I can call a musical experience and certainly something to put down everything to listen to. Over and over again.

New Music This Week

2009-04-05T14:56:00.002+08:00

Ever in search of the soundtrack of my life, I've turned into a music-download junkie. Thanks to the hyper-efficient cataloging of iTunes and my trusty Sony Ericsson Bluetooth Headset that can turn my day into an audio-enveloped cinematic experience. (I confess, I've sometimes piped music into my ears while doing surgery..)

I don't know why I got Celine Dion - for completion sake? Or just a tribute to the mother of divas?

David Cook comes highly recommended but haven't sampled it yet.

Everything Ingrid Michaelson and Jack Johnson is fantastic. Adequately deep and authentic. My kind of music.

Olivia Ong is Singaporean and saccharine sweet. I drink Diet Coke, so that's ok.

I hope Diana Krall won't be too commercialised to be of any value. The Top 100 Jazz looks promising too..

Soundtrack for my week to come is ready...

APS Maiden Voyage

2009-04-05T14:28:00.005+08:00

A week of stress and distress could end fatally with me slumped in my armchair, remote in hand, and 'heart-healthy' chips in my mouth. But every now and then you hit a low that's low enough to catapult you into something a bit more positive.

This week I decided to try out APS. It could well be translated Acute Pain Service for its therapeutic value, but it's actually Ah Pak San: a hill that straddles Hulu Langat and Cheras on the east of Klang Valley. It was good to get off my flubbering butt, drive to the foot of the hill and with nothing but a waist pouch hit the slopes with fury.

It was good.

The trail is steep for short stretches with plateaus for catching your breath. The foliage is thick enough to render the city a distant memory. Cicadas croak and crickets chirp to provide jungle soundtrack. And the occasional stream and waft of morning breeze makes it very refreshing. Trekkers are friendly and the trek is surprisingly rubbish-free. None of the mineral water bottle or plastic bags so typical of Malaysian parks and trails.

I only made it to Station 6 for lack of time. But it was a good 1hr sweat with a few challenging slopes and a nice vestibular-rehabilitating tumble and trot down. When you reach the end of trail, there is a roar of water (courtesy of Indah Water) that makes me feel like I'm in Lata Tembakah or some deep-forest waterfall destination.

Definitely a must-go-again, and to the peak next time!

The Descent Begins

2009-03-27T23:57:00.006+08:00

Age is catching up.
There's no doubting it.
I'm approaching, if not already on, the asymptote of my life and it's a rapid downhill hereon.

I'm listening.

I'm listening to the creak in my bones.
I hear questions from familiar faces in the crowd.
I hear my own history read out.
I hear the 'new' music that's now a golden oldie.

All I did was drive up to Ipoh to speak at a medical conference. I'm exhausted like I climbed Kinabalu. I pulled a muscle carrying Ethan up a flight of stairs and my gluteus still feels like it's been ripped apart.

When I was delivering my talk I saw familiar faces. No, not my colleagues or old friends from med school. They were medical students of mine who, obviously, have completed their housemanship and are now full-fledged MOs. They are attending my talk, not as teeny-bopper undergrads, but mature medical officers. And they are asking me questions about their patients.

I heard my own CV being read out. I did all that? I asked myself while fiddling with the mike trying to look modest. Worse still, it all seemed so long, long, ago in another galaxy far, far away.

iTunes is playing Eric Clapton's 'PILGRIM'. Drowning in a RIVER OF TEARS. It still sounds new. The CD looks like it was bought yesterday. The groove is still real and echoes resound from depths I cannot plumb as Clapton's guitar wails with sorrow that has no words. It was the soundtrack of my housemanship 12 years ago. It still is.

I started the '10 Things I Would Like To Do Before I Die' viral tag on Facebook. A tiny step towards charting the second half perhaps? A bid to redeem the past and create a future? A second chance at it before the curtain closes? Live, learn, love, leave a legacy, Stephen Covey would say.

Jung, Tolstoy, Shakespeare all had a renaissance of sorts at 37 and their best works produced thereafter. We begin to reclaim all that we sacrificed in the steep ascent of adulthood. We want to relive what we lost. I have come to the place I can not give a shit what others think, not care about pleasing any bosses, and earning a living isn't the all-consuming drive anymore.

I can live as I believe.
I can live on purpose.
I can start my descent..

New Music and iClip Lyrics

2009-03-08T00:22:00.004+08:00

Am chilling this weekend by sampling new music. The stuff I downloaded this week amounts to 248 songs and 16.3 hours of listening!

Found an app to automatically locate lyrics and add them into the ID3 Tag for me on the fly. No more messy googling on the web. iClip Lyrics seems to be free for use, too. Just wonderful!

Birth of the Macha Pan

2009-02-28T01:04:00.001+08:00

I love green tea products. Green tea ice-cream, green tea cake, green tea syrup with red beans. But I'm not crazy about green tea. Don't know why.

Anyway, I was thinking to myself this morning: why isn't there a green tea bread? I looked it up on allrecipes.com and there was none. So, to satisfy my desire to see GREEN TEA BREAD, I decided to create my own confection. (I looked it up again and found a green-tea with red-bean filling bun on MamaFami's Spice & Splendor which looks really nice as well.

Here's what I used:
400gms bread flour
280mls water
1 tsp salt
3 tbsp sugar
2 tbsp milk powder
2 tbsp olive oil
2 tsp vanilla essence
2 tsp green tea powder
1.5 tsp yeast
50gm pumpkin seeds (whole, not chopped)
1 tsp black sesame seeds

Putting it all in the breadmaker with a setting for a 1.5lb dark loaf, this is the result after 3h 45mins:
A very light and refreshing chewing experience. Despite the pervasive green-ness of the bread, the macha aroma is more of an uplifting aftertaste than an overpowering trip to Osaka.
The occasional surprise of a crunchy-nutty pumpkin seed, and the grittiness of sesame made the bites interesting. Overall a nice mix of flavors, I must say. I'm glad I didn't use butter. Olive oil gave the bread the twang I wanted and didn't drag it down with a bovine heaviness.

Ethan was the first to sample it and for the first time he said, 'NICE BREAD!' There is no greater gratification than to have your two-year old pronounce that on your experimental baking.

So there it is, Macha Pan, my very first confectionary creation!

Thinking Out Loud

2009-02-10T16:34:00.001+08:00

Serendipitous insights 'happen' upon us uninvitied, unsummoned. Mostly as I'm driving or watching Ethan scamper in the playground. Learning is a dance of reception and reflection.

I'd do well to savor these moments; heed them, learn from them. Grow with them. These insights may be new growths like seedlings piercing through the soil, differentiations - sprouting branches, leaves and buds, expansions - lengthening and enlarging, integrations - merging or intertwining, blossoming of flowers or final fruits.

I can't manage growth (or learning) but I can manage FOR growth and what I do with the new seeds - plant them or eat them? I need to resist the urge to put them to immediate use. Some seeds should be buried in soil to see light in another day.

An insight is most likely neither original or new; the collective conscious of millions of years of billions of sentient beings would've reflected further and deeper than one. But I am entrusted with mine. Knowledge can create pride or engender responsibility. Inflate the short-sighted egoist or humble the truth-seeker.

In thinking and in feeling, I want to be aware of the conscious and subconscious as the subconscious often precedes and exceeds the conscious. But intuitive knowing while being wonderfully metacognitive (ie. beyond the cerebral-rational) can also be irrational. How do we maneuvre such treacherous waters? How do I differentiate nonsense from wisdom? I guess this is where I have opportunity for play. For passion and adventure without limit.

An educational explosion

2009-02-10T01:56:00.006+08:00

I've been lamenting the deficiencies of my childhood education. Every time I sit down to play on my synthesiser, pick up a pen to write, or read about religion and philosophy, I become dismally aware of how ill-equipped to appreciate and expressing my passions in these areas.

So I literally gasped when I found these on iTunes! iTunes U has collated a mind-boggling archive of lectures and talks from top universities around the world, offering up their content for FREE. How amazing is that?

Just look at a few pickings I subscribed to today:

Imagine being able to get a university level education without having to quit my job and go back to university. This is what makes the Internet the greatest invention of the 20th century for me. It'll also be interesting to see how so much accessibility will transform the education experience.

If no one needs to GO to a university or PAY for an education anymore, what do you actually enrol in an institution for, apart from the scroll and hat at the end? Educationists are going to need to rethink and evolve what the education experience is when lectures have become a mere commodity on the internet.

For me - I'm going back to school! Hang on.. I think I never left school...

Explain Whales to Me!

2009-02-01T12:17:00.001+08:00

Got this in my email today (thanks, Eddy!) - and had a good laugh.
Especially the ace reply on 'Is swimming good for your figure?'

Q: I've heard that cardiovascular exercise can prolong life; is this
true?
A: Your heart is only good for so many beats, and that's it... don't
waste it on exercise. Everything wears out eventually. Speeding up
your heart will not make you live longer; that's like saying you can
extend the life of your car by driving it faster. Want to live longer?
Take a nap.

Q:Should I cut down on meat and eat more fruits and vegetables?
A:You must grasp logistical efficiencies. What does a cow eat? Hay and
corn. And what are these? Vegetables. So a steak is nothing more than
an efficient mechanism of delivering vegetables to your system. Need
grain? Eat chicken. Beef is also a good source of field grass (green
leafy vegetable). And a pork chop can give you 100% of your
recommended daily allowance of vegetable products.

Q:Should I reduce my alcohol intake?
A:No, not at all. Wine is made from fruit. Brandy is distilled wine,
that means they take the water out of the fruity bit so you get even
more of the goodness that way. Beer is also made out of grain. Bottoms
up!

Q:How can I calculate my body/fat ratio?
A:Well, if you have a body and you have fat, your ratio is one to one.
If you have two bodies, your ratio is two to one, etc.

Q:What are some of the advantages of participating in a regular
exercise program?
A:Can't think of a single one, sorry. My philosophy is: No Pain...Good!

Q:Aren't fried foods bad for you?
A:YOU'RE NOT LISTENING!!!..... Foods are fried these days in vegetable
oil. In fact, they're permeated in it. How could getting more
vegetables be bad for you?

Q:Will sit-ups help prevent me from getting a little soft around the
middle?
A:Definitely not! When you exercise a muscle, it gets bigger. You
should only be doing sit-ups if you want a bigger stomach.

Q:Is chocolate bad for me?
A:Are you crazy? HELLO Cocoa beans! Another vegetable!!! It's the best
feel-good food around!

Q:Is swimming good for your figure?
A:If swimming is good for your figure, explain whales to me.

Q:Is getting in-shape important for my lifestyle?
A:Hey! 'Round' is a shape!

Macadventures: I graduated BOOT CAMP!

2009-01-25T16:23:00.007+08:00

Windows starting up in Mac

The VM interface

Windows Explorer and Media Player as individual windows in Mac while in 'Unity' mode.

I did it! I graduated from BOOT CAMP.

Virutal Box didn't do it for me. Some old Windows Apps like TextAloud, MS Money, Band-in-a-Box and The IVP Essential Reference Collection are keeping me from a complete Windows-to-Mac migration so I needed some way of running Windows on my Mac. Virtual Box was the first thing I tried. It was magic enough in the beginning to see Windows as a 'window' running on the MacOS. But I soon discovered it was way too limited. It didn't access my soundcard, USB or Mac's HD so that I couldn't share files. Even the virtual networking method didn't work more than a couple of times.

That forced me to use Mac's BOOT CAMP. Boot Camp wowed me. It created a partition and and let me boot the machine from Windows or Mac independently with the stroke of a key (the Option key in this case). With MacDrive installed on the Windows system I could access the Mac HD from Windows, and the Windows HD appears in Mac OS so that cross-access is seamless. But the independent systems are what made it obtrusive. Having to shut down one and restart in another system just didn't cut it.

Enter... VMWare Fusion! Finally, something that does it all!
1. I can run Windows as one separate window in Mac
2. I can run multiple Windows' windows as many windows in Mac
3. I can access Mac's HD using Shared Folders
4. Soundcard, USB, Bluetooth, IR and iSight cam is seamlessly integrated

And.. best of all, VMWare happily 'took over' the Boot Camp Windows partition and made it its own. I didn't have to install Windows and all my apps all over again.

FINALLY. Boot Camp is history. Dual machine operability has arrived for me.

Sign of things to come

2009-01-19T23:24:00.007+08:00

It's an interesting start of year. No respite. Slam jam right onto the race track. 5,000rpms non-stop till the radiator boils over or engine gives up. The last one week was particularly adrenalinised.

12 days ago, mom and dad needed to rush to JB to see my sister so I sent them to the railway at a god-forsaken 630 in the morning. I was quite satisfied with myself to have had breakfast and bond with them. There's something about send-offs that make you dig deep and say things you normally don't say. Anyway, I left them at the station and heard the call to board when I turned the key in the ignition. I arrived at the hospital, hoping to have a breezy clinic, only to find out that a maxillectomy was suddenly on because another case was bumped off the list. Without adequate consent and without decisional review of new CT scan findings. The chaos of the morning was nerve-wracking: I had to tai-chi away my clinic, convince the patient I needed to take out his eye - don't worry sir, we do that all the time, you have another eye you hardly use right? - and revise the surgery to a bilateral neck.

That was followed by 10 hours of surgery. Strangely, holding a knife just makes the world seem right. Maybe it's the skill of working through human tissue to extricate filthy tumors and putting it all back together again. Or the sense of control in your hands - everything can be made better on the table, this table, my table. Mostly I think it's the butt-freezing air-cond, the cute scrub nurses who obey your every command, and because no one, I mean NO ONE, not even the Prime Minister can bug me here.

Cancer surgery is brave, bloody and butcheresque. Gladiator-like. That's how I like my surgeries. But it must start elegantly and end elegantly. From inked incisions to 3mm stitches. What happens in between would make an abbatoir look clean and sterile, but it's how you start and how you end that matters. I climbed Mt Kinabalu once. I remember three things - the charged ascent, full of hope and expecation; the agonising inches up the peak at 4 in the morning - who the f*** suggested I do this stupid thing - but the glory of the sun peeping through Donkey's ears and the world beneath your feet under a shroud of clouded mystery would make it worthwhile, and finally the numbed descent, limping into my bed with no sensation waist down. Long surgery is a lot like that. Raising flaps with a vengeance, get the plane, get the plane. Pausing to behold the life force in a pulsating naked carotid. And finally the zombied-brain-dead stitching that never seems to end.

The next day we were on a flight to Singapore. But not without first being denied boarding! This seems to happen to us a lot. The first time was when we were dating and I was sending her off to Kota Bharu. We were too busy saying goodbye and doing the things lovers do to notice that the gate had closed. She had to take the next flight. The second time was much later when she was pregnant with Ethan. Pregnant women were not allowed on board without a doctor's letter to say she's pregnant - I guess the giant bulge, puffy eyes and blown up ankles could've been just one bag of chips too many with salt-retention to boot - even if we were both doctors. This time: it was the expiry date on Joan's passport. It was too soon, apparently. Four months away was too close an expiry!

Yeah, like we were intending to stay in the sterilised pressure cooker for more than 3 days, I thought to myself. 'You really can't put us on board? We really didn't know about the 6-month rule.' No. You can't spit in Singapore. You can't chew gum in Singapore. You can't frigging cross a road without getting a knot in your pants wondering if you broke a law. We went to the zoo once. It's a beautiful zoo. And the animals were either small and cute or large and ferocious. And I'm not talking about furry ones that walk on fours - I'm talking about little tots in their prams and their attending mothers scribbling notes while giving their 4-yr olds their 'O' Levels mock exam: 'IS THIS ANIMAL A LAND ANIMAL OR SEA ANIMAL? I'M ASKING YOU ONE MORE TIME.. IS THIS A LAND ANIMAL OR SEA ANIMAL?' I'm not about to defect to Singapore, for goodness sakes, what's a 4-month expiry?

I was dumping clothes from one bag to another - Joan would stay, I would go on for my conference, eat alone, snore alone, wake up alone. I wasn't looking forward to the trip anymore. I had no one to blame, it was written in the passport, and that made me angrier. But before I could lock my suitcase, the ground staff appeared and announced we could fly togehter - apparently he had persuaded Singaporean customs to let this one through, dad didn't look too happy and could be a threat to lives on board, he must've thought, watching me rip apart my suitcase like King Kong.

Yesterday was Sunday. At last I got a day off. And I didn't know what to do with it. My heart was still racing. My mind reeling from a clinical trial meeting where I'm the PI - I don't know how the heck I got into this and feel like I'm totally in over my head. I was like a beat up car by the highway, bonnet open, steam all over the place - not going anywhere, just fumes, all fumes. It took a while before I could stop clicking senselessly on my Mac, burning CDs I'll never listen to, and clearing up my room just to mess it up again. When I finally fizzled out and realised I should be doing what I really WANT to do, not what I HAVE to do - more, better, faster - it was then that I picked up a book (Karen Armstrong's HISTORY OF GOD), lay down on an inflatable mattress. read a few pages, and fell asleep. I woke up once when my buttock hit the hard surface of the ground, and went back to sleep wondering if the mattress had ruptured a leak under my weight.. I should lose some, I remember telling myself before slipping into never never land.

Today I went to pick Ethan at 630pm. Dad and I ate at the table, as is customary, while mom would run around chasing Energiser bunny; playing hide-and-seek or watching Hokkien soaps, which was a favorite with Ethan. Dad and I had a longer father-son conversation, and a more philosophical one than the usual down-with-BN and curse-all-things UMNO rhetoric that goes between mouthfuls of mom's gastronomic delights. Mom has a strange ability to serve up the most delectable dishes quicker than any McDonald's with all the goodness of China. Mom's a gem. We talked about me switching over from EPF to the pension scheme - an unheard of move in 3rd generation Chinese I would think - and agreed on its insurance value, psychological worry-free benefit, recession-prrofness, and even a pretty good investment move (calculated ROI was about 47.5%! Ok 34.5% after minusing the government's 13% contribution to our EPF.) He seems to like it at my mom's a lot. When I finished chatting with dad, I found Ethan sprawled on a thin mattress, watching a cantonese soap. I tickled him and said: 'Boy, time to go home.' He grinned and said, 'Daddy bye bye.'

The last three weeks are a pretty good sign of things to come, of 2009 I'm thinking. The unending cycles of F1-style overdrive and weekend pit-stops, of adrenaline-overflow and adrenal burnout, of exhilarating achievements and brooding dark weekends. In between all that trying to learn what's important to me - the things that I enjoy, things that enrich, things that empower more self-determination, and things that enhance my skill and knowledge. And finally, growing. Growing old. Growing up with my son. Understanding his nature, seeing what his nature nurtures, nurturing what's in his nature, and simply having frolicking-about-the-park fun. Live, learn, love, leave some kind of legacy in my son, my patients, my students.

Macadventures: Going MIDI

2009-01-04T22:43:00.003+08:00

Again, in a few clicks I have got functionality I never could get on Windows.
Above you can see my Korg 01/W has been connected by MIDI to the Mac.

I can educate the Mac as to how the Korg is interfacing with the USB MIDI device (using Romio).

Finally, of course, I gotta try it on Garage Band. It's extremely easy to use and going to provide me hours of jamming.

Macadventures: Podcast Party

2009-01-03T14:59:00.003+08:00

I'm from the dark ages. Civilisation has just dawned on me.
I discovered podcasts, discovered that there are more podcasts out there than stray dogs in my neighbourhood, and that I never needed an iPod to use podcasts in the first place.
Yeah, laugh at me. Better late than never right? Not going to waste the rest of my AM (After Mac) years regretting what I lost in the BM (Before Mac).

My love affair with podcasts has gone for skylarking (mischievous spying from afar) to brazen orgy. Look at the mess of podcasts:

The Categories page doesn't help because they come with different tags (News, News/Political, Christian, Religious, etc.) and you can't edit them.

So what I'm doing is to use Smart Playlists to group them, live update them, and select for me the 25 latest in each category. Like so in Medical Science-

Macadventures: ArCHMock?

2009-01-02T20:59:00.003+08:00

Archmock is not the ultimate insult or the angel-boyfriend of Mindy. It's yet another Windows-to-Mac wannabe's reservation quasher.

I was recently endowed with a chunkload of Microsoft HTML Help books - the preferred format for many medical textbooks, also known as the CHM file, short for Compiled HTML . I'm not crazy about shutting down and restarting in Windows by Boot Camp or running it on Virtual Box if I can use it right here in Mac OS.

The answer to that? A free downloadble called ArCHMock which can be downloaded for a meager 310kb bandwidth usage.

A screenshot of the trusty OHCM on Archmock:

Macadventures: Simple but wonderful Address Book

2009-01-01T00:44:00.002+08:00

The first thing I needed to get working was iSync for my Sony Ericsson P1i. Now I love my PDA phone. It's the first gadget I've acquired in years which I could emphatically say enhances my life. I resisted the PDA-phone and QWERTY keyboard for ages. While I fossilised and the world moved on, my pockets bulged with machines and I was dropping them on the stairs shuffling from one to another (I didn't drop them on purpose you see..)

Finally, when my Tungsten T2 (my 4th PDA since 1997) went into irreversible brain death; I got an O2. It was year of misery, and most of that time spent resetting and waiting between apps. Finally I ditched it for the Sony. It was a big leap of faith, what with QWERTY keyboard with button-sharing alphabets (rock to left - Q, rock to right - W) and software-estranged Symbian OS! But it was wonderful leap, and I haven't looked back since. In fact, sprinting forward, I've gone 3G unlimited access, navigate with Google maps, facebook, do Excel sheets and listen to music with a Sony Bluetooth stereo headset that can control the phone. Not to mention I've hacked it and implanted the Sony's Walkman GUI into it! Well, you get the picture - if my Sony doesn't talk to my Mac.. I'm in trouble. It's like if my wife doesn't talk to my mother? Bad analogy.

Make things worse, the forums are filled with angry and frustrated SEP1i users. All cursing Sony or Mac or both for not looking into this compatibility issue. Well, to be fair,.. come on.. the world doesn't exactly revolve around us Sony-Mac users, ok? Give them a break.

Thankfully, my experience has been a good one. Did Mac follow up the issue or did Sony? I think both.

Firtsly, my Mac detected the P1i on bluetooth instantly and made it its preferred 3G modem in a few clicks.

Secondly, when I tried iSync, it recognised my phone but advised me on its incompatibility. No pretenses. No century-long sync attempts and system hangs.

Thirdly, it directed me to Sony! The Mac directed me to Sony's website, and straight to the page where the plug-in is situated. I downloaded that, ran the patch. And wah lahh.. iSync was syncing.

Now comes the best part. No, the best TWO parts.

1- The synchronising of 2500 contacts took less than 5 minutes. I kid you not.

2- Address Book on the Mac detected the duplicates accumulated over 10 years of mal-syncing between devices and fixed those! In a matter of seconds, my address book was cleaned up. Where the same person had several records - eg. one for email, one for mobile, etc. - these were merged!

What MS Outlook couldn't do (I understand that you have to BUY the patch to resolve duplicates) - the Mac did intuitively in seconds. No fuss.

My leap of faith from PC to Mac has proven to be the best computing decision I ever made. And I'm never looking back.

Macadventures: Using Boot Camp

2009-01-01T00:15:00.002+08:00

I've been a fool to use Virtual Box to run WinXp as a virtual machine on my Mac all this time (the whole of 2 weeks.) At first it was full of promise. A minimisable window running Windows, one of many tasks running without every slowing, hanging or going into a coma (like XP does). But I soon ran into problems - the shared folder started to hang and I realised that I can't get USB, soundcard or camera access. (Now why would you need that you ask? I'm a sucker for functionality I guess, either I have it all or not at all.)

Then I stumble on 'Boot Camp' on my Applications folder and remember somewhere in my ask-Google-for-an-answer forays that Boot Camp was one of the ways Windows could be run. And I had it on my Mac OS X all this time?? Darned. I should've read the manual. (And I know I will say that again a few hundred times before I actually open the manual. I love rainforests. Manuals should not have been printed in the first place.) It took me about 5 attempts to get it right, but right now I'm on seventh heaven. The first time I partitioned the Windows drive at 5GB. What was I thinking? Then I partitioned it right but realised that I had no access to CDROM, USB, soundcard until I put in the Mac OS Installation CD, which, courtesy of Apple has all the drivers Windows needs... (Now I wonder why they are being so helpful to us Windows die-hards.) But the next thing I find out is that my copy of Windows has an outdated Win Installer which can't handle the Mac CD's installation files!! I try upgrading to Service Pack 3 which invariably hangs.

Finally, it dawned on me that the partition for Windows can be accessed as a drive on Mac OS. Which means I can easily download Windows Installer 4.5 and slip it into the Desktop folder of WinXP and restart the system. Wa lah!! Problem solved. Installed installed. Mac drivers installed. Sound card functioning. Camera functioning. Video display perfected. All that's just fantastic.. but dig this... DRUM ROLLLLL... With Boot Camp, the mouse is left-click and right-click enabled!! How the heck is that possible with no left and right buttons? Why did they manufacture a mouse with left and right click abilities, hidden-albeit, when the Mac doesn't even use it?? This is plain sinister or am I dreaming? And the keyboard is rewired so that Ctrl is Ctrl and Alt is Alt and the Cmd Key is the good old Windows button! Talk about full Windows functionality.

I have got it made. My PC is going to the grave. The next thing to do will be to install MacDrive so that the Windows system can access all of the Mac's files and vice versa. That way I have two partitions that cross-communicate freely, obviating duplication of data (think 14,750 photos and 80GB of MP3s and you'll get the picture.)

Ahh.. the pleasures of Mac. And the journey's just begun!

Year End Escapades

2008-12-31T22:47:00.012+08:00

The end of the year is always a mixed bag and way too fast a way to close the year for me. But like all boring people who aren't out there screaming a countdown and drinking their livers to poop, I'm blogging. Ok, I've got a glass of wine in one hand... but that doesn't count.

The fest-acti-vities begin with Christmas. (Christmas Eve panic shopping to be exact.) A drive to the serene rubber-estate-cum-kampung for a mega Eve bash with the Kong family, their inlaws, outlaws, grandkids and other farm animals. Then comes Christmas day dinner with my family. A short respite in between and then it's wife's birthday (29th) and the curtain drops on the 31st.

I've learnt that panic shopping lands you up with crummy gifts. By crummy I mean you feel really crappy when you open up your presents and find expensive fragrances and such and you remember that you gave them a shower radio or picture frame. I tried to make up for the injustice by treating my family to Dim Sum on Boxing Day.

Christmas Eve

The festivities in the outback of Kuala Sawah on Eve never ceases to impress me. It's always phenomenal - the amount of food, the number of people and the family dynamics. In that order. This year there was so much food I was hoping all the poor and homeless of Seremban would show up; and even then there'd be food to spare. People did stream in till late night, some in their BMWs and Mercedes negotiating tight estate dirt-lanes. And the family, oh my - there's the multilingual pastor-uncle who leads a service, an octagenarian great-grandma who puts the fear of God in all things alive, the 50-something aunt who cycles up mountains for fun and bakes up cakes to live and die for, and the uncle who roasts turkeys... just to name a few stellar characters.

Christmas day

We slept in and crept into the Nepalese service instead of our regular English one. I'm glad we did. We didn't understand a word, but that was not the point. It was celebrating in a way that encapsulated the spirit of Christmas in the most poignant way. Here we were, three Chinamen in the back of a hall of strapping Nepalese men (with odors to match, I might add), feeling altogether foreign. And they were singing beautiful hymns and carols in a language I didn't understand about a God who did understand all human flesh and its faltering attempts to reach Him; about a baby born to live the life we couldn't live; and about the man who died that we would not. Jesus showed us true empathy - entering into another's experiential world fully and sensitively; living our lives, dying our deaths. And I got to taste a tiny bit of the spirit of that empathy for the briefest moment.

Boxing day?
The Yaps basically hunched and slouched around a feast of Dim Sum, gorging dumplings, slurping tea, reminiscing everything from Castlewolfenstein (a PC game which me and my brother spent disproportionate amounts of our childhood on) to I can't remember what.. I was drunk on tea.

Wife's birthday.
Now this is when the stress hormones work overtime. Getting this one day wrong is the beginning of a year of misery. Having a wife who works shifts and gets her weekly roster on Sunday (when her birthday is Monday) DOES NOT HELP. And when you've got a barely-2-yr-old whose meals and baths need to be planned down to the ounce - it's a disaster until proven otherwise. But GOD was smiling on me this time. From the moment I got confirmation of Monday & Tuesday off, I got to work, and things just miraculously fell into place. Online booking for hotel & spa package - click click click done. Call to mom for babysitting - dial, beg, done. Plan itinerary and cover story. Done.

Come the morning, we dropped off Ethan at mom's and he gleefully bade us go and have fun. Didn't she say she wanted to shop at Isetan? So to KLCC we went. Oh, you don't need me to hang around and rather I bugger off to look at gadgets? Meet you in an hour? Great!! In that one hour I sprinted off to Impiana, checked in, got a top-floor room to get a view of KLCC park, confirmed the spa booking, ran back to the KLCC, got flowers.. all in the knick of time. Ring ring.. where shall I meet you? How about Sundanese food darling? Sprint sprint.. hide flowers under the chair, stop panting. In walks the love of my life, I pull her a chair and spring the lilies on her. A symbol of your feminine sexuality, I proudly declare (I got that off Google while crossing the road!) OK.. let's go somewhere else now. As we pulled out of KLCC and onto Jln Pinang (which is where Impiana is), I exclaim, OH NO, I left something at KLCC!! I gotta turn back! And swerve into the hotel car park. It took her all of 20 seconds before she realised that's where we were going to stay.. Well, it was worth the short suspense. The room was cosy and sleek. The massage sensuously amazing (a Balinese massage better than what we got in Bali, to be honest.) And the horizon pool perched over the city with the towers in full view, breathtaking. She was thrilled to bits. 2009 is going to be glorious.

Well, today is New Year's Eve. For the first time in my life I can look back and say I achieved all my resolutions for 2008. And that's because this time last year I didn't make any save one: I resolved not to make any resolutions anymore. That's the secret formula to fulfilment by the way: F = A/E (where F= fulfilment, A= accomplishment, and E= expectation). When E --> 0, F --> infinity. INFINITE fulfilment! Genius no? Well, while the fireworks are banging off and beers are being consumed by the barrel, I'm thumping on my PC which will soon be decomissioned while my Mac is running BootCamp. I've got a Merlot smooth as silk in hand and my wife is cackling behind me reading Tony Parsons. It's a good life, she just planted me a kiss and we wished each other Happy New Year. It's been a mad year but I wouldn't trade it for anything else. Come 2009 - give me everything you've got!

Mac Day 2

2008-12-20T11:49:00.004+08:00

Sharp learning curve ahead.

First stop: how to network and share files between Mac and PC.

These links look promising:
Mac-Connect
My First Mac

Will report later on networking.

Next stop: All about Mac OS X

Looks like Wikipedia has got what I need.

Mac Day 1

2008-12-20T00:13:00.001+08:00

It arrived in a lowly brown box, dumped on the gravel street, pebbles still stuck to the tape. DHL had no idea what magic they were carrying in their hands. It didn't take me long to pull it out of the box and less to place it on the table, plug in the power cable, keyboard and mouse. I looked a few times in the box - no installation CDs, no motherboard software, no driver CDs, not even a warranty card... Strange. Only two manuals - 'Everything Mac' and 'Everything Else'.

The first delicious thing about setting it up is that it is only ONE piece. No desktop, monitor and one hundred dangling cables and figuring out which goes where. No wifi card, bluetooth dongle, nothing. ONE single masterpiece.

The second thing is ripping off the clear plastic that wraps everything and unveiling the black reflective apple logos embedded on the silky white.

By the time finger hits ON button, my heart is already racing.

Moment of truth. Push. And the universe leaps off the monitor. Ok I'm exaggerating. It's some kind of nebula or something captured by Hubble and stars are dancing all over the place flashing WELCOME in 10 languages or more, I can't remember. I hit BACK a few times just to watch the video and feel this tingling sensation sweep over me.. Magic washing over. Ok ok..

Now comes the wildly impossible experience(s).

MASTER - IS IT YOU?
I'm asked to key in my email and password - the one I used to buy this product online! This machine had traveled across the globe (from HK apparently) to one master and one master ONLY. It didn't have to spend a month configuring it till it becomes specially mine. It was MINE before it even met me. It was made for me. It's one mission is to serve me. My address and phone number appears instantly and I'm asked if anything should be changed and if there are any other users.

MASTER - LET ME SEE YOU
Then I'm told to sit in front of the Mac while it takes a picture of me (with the built-in cam) to get a profile pic without me having to hunt it down from some ancient snapshot on a faraway vacation. Nay.. 1 day old Mac wants to get a good look at his master. Pic taken, identity confirmed, it unfolds itself...

LET ME GET YOU CONNECTED
I'm trembling here. What comes next? Will the exciting welcome end here and the head-banging, hair-pulling, bug-fixing, system-crashing nightmare begin? I'm a wounded victim of years of Windows-abuse you see.. please be gentle on me. Before I hit a key, a screen pops up. GASP! It says, WiFi signal detected. Choose your router. Key in the WEP. You're connected!! What the... Was that all? No Wifi configuration, no PPP dialup codes, no nothing?? No way...

The bluetooth icon is hovering temptingly above. I click it. Detect devices. Sony Ericsson P1i detected. Paired. Ok.. not bad. Hang on, what's that? 3G Modem detected - use it to connect to Internet? Hell YES!! Maxis, WAP, Unet, etc........ CONNECTED. Oh my Gooooddd.... The Mac figured out how to get online through my 3G phone without me even asking it to! What took weeks of configuring and failed connections with the PC, ploughing through Mobile Networking Wizard and m-Router configurations took the Mac a total of 1 minute. WITHOUT any guidance from ME. This is like driving a car without every having to open the bonnet while using a PC is like keeping a trunk full of tools, spare radiator tubings, jumper cables and a few extra spark plugs just in case.

LET US GET YOUR LIFE ORGANISED SHALL WE?
OK. Look here, Mr Cocky Mac. If there's one thing that will make you my best friend forever, is that you can SYNC with my Sony Ericsson P1i. All the forums I've read out there say SEP1i and you just don't get along. Not that you're hostile but the SEP1i is just plain Mac-dumb. Now can you do it?? Start iSync (used the Help to find it). Device detected. Device not compatible. Ok... How about a little help here? Sony Ericsson's website seems to have a plugin available. Download. Installed automatically. iSync again (without rebooting 10 times). Sudden flurry of activity. Synchronising.. it says.. Can this be true? I've been fooled by this endless 'synchronising' spinaround that gets zilch result. The first few times I did it with the PC it took me 2 days, a few meals, a few walks in the park. Don't give me that rotating two-arrow sign. I will not be deceived... What's that? DONE? Whaddya mean done. All 2530 contacts and 190 calendar events downloaded?? NO WAY. NO %^*&#^($#^( WAY. This is when I shudder. This is when a get golfballs in my throat. This is when I want to break into tears... IT IS FINISHED?? In 2 minutes??

I shake my head in disbelief. My jaw drops like my masseters were mush. I stare at all 20inches of messianic magic. Words fail me. There aren't adequate analogies or symbols for this kind of an experience. How can I describe it? It's like being given the keys to a Cadillac after 20 years of riding a beatup Proton that needed to be brought into the workshop every week, whose air conditioning fails in the hot sun, and power windows jam sequentially. It's like being told you never have to look into the engine, you can take off your grease-covered rags and wash off that rust - it's time you drove a real car now. You deserve it.

And this is just DAY 1. I'm just scratching the surface. I'm just playing with the tip of the iceberg. I'm ready to be wowed. I'm looking forward to a life time of pleasurable machine usage and not heart-wrenching disillusionment. Mr Mac. Don't let me down.

Things I would like to do in the coming weeks/months:
1. Get PARALLEL and run Windows apps on the Mac (better than a PC does I hear!)
2. Catalog all my digital photos (6 years worth, some 100gb of it)
3. Get my KORG 01/W hooked up by MIDI and play some serious music along with GarageBand
4. Edit my home and medical videos with speed and style
5. Organise my MP3s on iTunes
6. Discover everything else I didn't even know I could do, and do all the things I never knew I should be doing!

Ahhh... the dawn of a new era for me.

The Little Drummer Boy

2008-12-19T12:31:00.002+08:00

Seeing that Ethan has got a real passion for rhythm, we couldn't resist getting him his first drum set.

Since then he's been experimenting various styles of banging, asks for his audience to sit and watch or sing along so he can beat.

Look at him go!

Now I wonder when I can get MY own drum set... What was that?? Sorry I'm a bit deaf.

Family Outing at MidValley

2008-12-19T12:29:00.002+08:00

It's great when the whole family can get together and chill.

Our recent outing-pigout at MidValley and landed up stuffing our faces at Paddingtons.

Bali Videos

2008-12-19T12:16:00.002+08:00

I've only recently had an uninterrupted connection to upload our holiday videos. Here they are:

Bumbling about in Bali

2008-09-30T10:25:00.005+08:00

Trip to Bali started on the wrong foot. We left all our packing to the last day and Ethan was snuffly all night making it very difficult. I went to bed at 2am and Joan probably at 4am, and we were on the road to LCCT at half-past six.

Day 1

From Bali

Flight was ok for Ethan, thanks to Actifed and Oxymetazoline. A one-hour delay getting our room was a slight dampener but the room itself wasn't bad though a little below our expectation after what we experienced in Chaweng Regent, Samui. We needed rest, so the entire afternoon we slept with Ethan. Going out to

From Bali

Kuta square was a jarring and disorientating culture shock for us - a mish-mash of branded stores, bars, boutiques and every kind of night-market hawking all crumpled into tight streets with motorbikes-a-zooming and touts-a-screaming. A compulsory horse-ride (ripoff 100,000rupiah) through Poppies Lane & Legian made it a little better and on spotting the legendary Made's Warung, we stopped for dinner. Large tuna in Balinese sauce, Gado-gado and Sate Babi redeemed the day for me though I had to fend off ferocious mosquitoes the whole time.

Day 2
We didn't sleep.. again. This time because of bed bugs!! Took three calls and half and hour at 2 o'clock in the morning for the hotel staff to change our sheets. Ethan was still snuffly and pukey, waking at least six times in the night. So day two was going to be NO TRAVEL. After mega breakfast (we eat for two meals) we headed off to Discovery Mall - no adventures for today, we thought. Intercepted by some tourism promo boys, we won a prize - t-shirts, free stay at Royal Bali and an island tour!! (I thought to myself - this is a conjob, Joan thought - this is a conjob, but what the heck... let's go see this hotel.) Man, were we conned... An hour of the most annoying and irrelevant sales talk which we had to practically shout to get out of at the end really botched the day. Only redeeming point was the free island tour we won

From Bali

After an afternoon nap, I said to myself, we're going to enjoy our dinner no matter what. So, off to the BEST Balinese haute cuisine in town - KETUPAT! It was well worth the price of some 300,000+ rupiah. Hidden behind an antique gallery on Legian, it was the most exotic looking place I've ever eaten in. Eating gazebos fashioned after ancient royal houses, poolside dining, and Balinese spa music made for perfect ambience for the night. And the food was.. oh my god... orgasmically good. Sate Lilit(check out the slideshow/photos)- pervasively spiced meat rolled around a serai stick, exuding the most heavenly aromas and flavors to titilate your palate - served on barely burning embers of coal. Time stopped as I bit into the succulent flesh made for gods...

From Bali

Ok back to earth.. That night we hung out at Starbucks, Discovery, had ourselves some frappucinos and caramel machiato while Ethan played himself silly over the couches after his meal. MISTAKE. All the excitement and aerophagy just made him pukey, and puke he did.. Trying to save the upholstery and carpets from permanent graffiti courtesy of Ethan, I took the entire load of vomit on myself (see photos). That totally made my day.. It was hilarious - father & son covered in vomit, people opened doors and stepped aside for us to get back to the hotel to be hosed down!

From Bali

Time to cash in our island tour prize. We headed off to Kintamani to see the live volcanic mountain of Batur. The usual stops on the way up - batik, silver, art, carvings, etc. Kintamani was crispy cool, the volcanic crater spouting off a little ash, and the large expanse of Danau Batur serene and sedate. On the way back, the driver suggested we try out the Elephant Safari at Bakas.. MISTAKE. The bloody entrance fee and elephant ride for 3 of us would've cost us 1.5million rupiah!! We said thank you very much, take us home.

Dinner was at Discovery Mall's food court where we had some Soto, Gado-gado and more sate. We decided we didn't need the grime and crowd of Kuta so we did all our shopping at TandaMata - the souvenir/craft shop in Discovery. I'm sure we were paying far too much for the stuff, but what the heck..

Day 4
This was going to be Joan's day at the Spa, and my day with the boy. All was going according to plan. We had breakfast, Ethan was happy watching Bob the Builder, mother bundled off, and I was feeding him on his pram before heading out to Kuta square. Then on his last spoon, he gave me that classic stare which says daddy I'm going to puke, like mega puke.. It was volcanic, like Batur in 1917. Puke splattered on the floor, the walls, and filled the pram. It took me a good hour to hose us both down, lay towels on the floor, and disrobe the pram for washing. Off to the laundry with another sack of clothes and pram covers, and finally back to Discovery for more gift hunting.

From Bali

With all that exhaustion, I decided we were not going to do Jimbaran. I didn't want to risk another eruption and didn't fancy the traveling anyway. So, instead, we had seafood at the hotel's beachside BBQ. That was the best decision I made. The food was good, the poolside ambience chilling, and the entertainment - a Tek Tekan dance by a reputed troupe was par excellence. And we got some good photographs with the cast too! So for a stress-free, minimal fuss, great food and dose of local culture - I'd give the evening an 8 out of 10.

Day 5

From Bali

A laidback breakfast, stroll-come-photoshoot around the gardens, and finally packup to go. All in all, a challenging but fun trip. Not the usual see-all, do-all adventure. More of a highly-selective sampling of food, culture, and sights of the island paradise; perhaps an introduction to Bali for future reference should we decide to go again..

Picked up our compulsory cigarettes, brandies, chocolates and fragrances at the airport duty-free; let Ethan do some last-minute flirting with the babes, and off we go on our airplane. Thankfully Ethan knocked out even before we boarded and slept the whole way except for the last half hour.

From Bali

Goodbye Bali. Hold your own.

Getting back on Sunday, we were actually quite happy - both from the trip and to be back home. When I had my shower, I realised we have a little resort of our own right here in our own home. It's great to be home and great to have a home I can call paradise.

Tourist in my own city

2008-08-07T00:02:00.002+08:00

We had a week's vacation recently but decided not to burden ourselves with the stress of travel and the budget-busting expenses of hotels. So we did the unthinkable, vacation in our own home - Kuala Lumpur. We've always wondered what tourists saw in KL and what the experience would be not getting stuck in 2hr jams getting to and back from work. Instead enjoying the malls and sites at a leisurely pace.

Here are some snapshots of our little tourney..

Rabbit Park

A frolic in the rabbit park, Bukit Tinggi.

Aquaria

A journey through the underwater word, Aquaria KLCC.

Eye on Malaysia

A vertiginous ride above the city.

Mines North Lake

And cruising on a the world's largest tin-mine-turned-tourist-attraction.

All in all, not bad. KL's still the place to be!

The Learning Attitude

2008-08-06T13:00:00.002+08:00

In all areas of my vocation (medical research, teaching and patient care) and ministry (theological learning, teaching from the Bible and shepherding) I try to factor in a source of learning to uphold the giving.

That ensures that I am not only keeping a good input-output balance, but that I'm constantly growing and developing. A leader has to lead himself well, and a teacher must first be a learner. Undergoing the riguers of learning myself makes me empathise with my students and puts me in a unique position to walk with them as equals.

I was thumbing this book: 'Critical Thinking and Clinical Judgement' by Rosalinda Alfaro-LeFevre and found a list of 'Intellectual Traits' according to Paul & Elder (2001). Among them, these three struck me as truly essential:

Intellectual Humility

Intellectual Courage

Intellectual Integrity

Paul & Elder defines intellectual humility as 'consciousness of limits of your knowledge; willingness to admit what you don't know.'. Intellectual courage is 'awareness of the need to face and fairly address ideas, beliefs, or viewpoints to which you haven't given serious hearing.' Intellectual integrity is 'being true to your own thinking; applying intellectual standards to thinking; holding yourself to the same standards you hold others; willingness to admit when your thinking may be flawed.'

Put simply, admit your ignorance, be open to contrarian views, and practice what you preach! How often have I tried to fudge an answer or asked a student to 'go home and do your homework' when I wasn't sure myself? How often do I fail to perform a complete examination when I tell my students they're not allowed to take shortcuts! How often do I teach from a text in the Bible and interpret it according to my pet theologies without looking deeper into authorial intent, historical context, canonical and christological significance? Intellectual humility, courage and integrity are not signs of weakness, they are signs of a person who seeks truth above all else and most of all of himself.

Weekend Kitchen Therapy

2008-08-03T14:19:00.001+08:00

It's Sunday. Not just any Sunday. A Sunday after a tremendously crazy and stressful week.

I'm a compulsive overeater, and I destress by eating or cooking. So today I opted for cooking instead of binging.. But wait a minute.. I have to eat what I cook don't I? Well.. It has to go somewhere!

English breakfast sausages with sunny side up.

Carbonara - the Italian coal miner's high-calorie energy meal. Crisp-fried bacon, eggy-cheesy-creamy sauce with onions & garlic. And a sprinkle of parsley.

Discovering the Word through Biblical Theology

2008-06-26T22:10:00.003+08:00

My reading/listening of Goldsworthy (According to Plan), Peterson's lectures on Biblical Theology (Oakhill Seminary) and articles from the IVP New Dictionary of Biblical Theology has been very gratifying and rewarding. The amazing thing for me is to see intellectually substantiated what I've always believed about the Bible - it's unity (in the diversity of many authors in different times and situations), it's one overarching message (built up from many narratives) and it's final convergence on Christ.

I'm learning that you not only can see themes run through this salvation history, but it is the framework of salvation history that must determine how these themes are understood. I drew a lot of diagrams to help me conceptualise how BT changes the way I read the Bible. Maybe I'll show post them up here one day.

One is a series of lenses that converges rays of light to a single focal point, the lenses being historical-literary context, canonical context, and Christological context. Put simply, a passage in the Bible is not being properly interpreted without seeing it through the whole Bible and Christ as it's framework or context. The historical-literary context asks: What is the author trying to say to the audience then and there; in their need and situation? The second then asks: Where/how does this fit in, and what does it contribute to the salvation-history story of the WHOLE Bible? The third then asks: How do I see Christ in this passage, and this passage in Christ?

Another is a set of concentric circles; the smallest being historical-literary, followed by canonical, then Christological, then God-church, then the world. Seeing it in enlarging circles helps me develop it's applicability. The smallest message unit is to the original audience, then, as part of the witness of the whole Bible, then as signboard pointing to Christ, then as God speaking to his church today, and finally, as the church being a witness to the world.

When I do my daily reading of the Bible now, I try to sit back at the end, close my eyes, and rethink the passage in these contexts... it's simply an amazing exercise for me to see the levels of significance just grow in depth and breadth to encompass all time and all of life.

Peterson in the first couple of lectures also taught me some remarkable things I never realised: that the apostle Peter was doing BT in his sermon in Acts ch 2, and he learnt it from Jesus in the post-resurrection period when Christ explained to them how the Law, Prophets and Psalms were fufilled in him! Also that the genealogy in Matthew is a sketch of salvation history milestones/landmarks - Adam, Abraham, David, and Christ - for epochal eras of salvation history!

Where have I been all these years?

Well, my excitement must give way to disciplined reading and reflection day by day. And seeing myself in the sweep of salvation history certainly adds a very important to perspective to how am I called to live. There is a sense of where we've come from and where we're headed, and the trajectory of life is being set right.

2008-06-22T13:55:00.000+08:00

Not every week I get a Sunday like this. Joan's at work - rescucitating the collapsed or straightening a fractured limb, whatever it is she has to do in the ER. My job's to keep baby clean and fed and give him his nap.

Ah but what joy it is when it isn't a task but a chance to reclaim some father and son time and create a few significant moments in our own history.

Fed him with Bob the Builder playing to keep him sufficiently cooperative. Showered him to a silky smooth radiance. Then at his yawning cue, put off the lights, draw the drapes and rock him to sleep.

Heck, I thought to myself. I may as well get some deep rest myself. So as he drifted into sleep I also proceeded to defragment my thoughts and feelings, breathe deeply, letting go the many tensions and suppressed inner conflicts. Soon he was flat out on the mattress and I was in the armchair, reclaiming my own center. It was my time to be. Be myself. And be with God. Letting me be me, God be God. In stillness know that nothing else matters, nothing was important. There really is nothing else apart from.. Here in this silent meeting was all things answered.

An hour passed. Ethan stirs. I sidle alongside him, cheek to the bed. He smiles and does the same, grinning contentedly.

'You're a good boy!' I offered.
He grins even wider, almost sheepishly.
'You love daddy?' I tease.
He nods affirmingly.
Then unexpextedly he lunges forward on all fours and pecks me on the cheek. Then shyly buries his face.
'Daddy loves you too!'
This goes on for a few minutes on the mattress. The beam of noon sun escaping between drapes shone brighter.

Then we had lunch. He sat on an adult chair next to mine, watched me eat, nibbled on some bits of sweet potato and grabbing my fork now and then to feed me!

Ah. The sweetness of wasting time together. Doing nothing 'important' yet having the most important thing there is. Ethan teaches me rest. Ethan teaches me how to be a father, and how to be a child.

What am I doing now? Thumbing this log, on the floor, my back against the washing machine. While Ethan rearranges everything in the kitchen cabinet.

Life. Just doesn't get better than this.

Starting with the single unit

2008-06-19T22:50:00.005+08:00

Continuing my search for a unified method for understanding self and managing life, I decided I must start with the most basic unit - the person. Over the years of scanty reading and brief exposures to various schools of thought, the one model I'm most convinced of is the 'physicalist non-reductionist' model of the person.

The idea in this model, to my simple mind, is that you can't reduce the person to his feelings, his thoughts, and his bodily processes as though they were separate entities (hence reductionist), nor can you separate mind and body - one cannot exist or function without the other (hence physicalist.) Put another way, while you can describe various aspects, functions or domains of a person - eg. body, soul & spirit; mind, emotions, volition, & intuition; affective & cognitive, etc. - there are no lines of demarcation where one ends and the other starts. And none exist without the other.

Of course, once you have a model, you will need to decide on its parts. While theologians are largely diveded into a bipartite (body & soul) or tripartite (body, soul & spirit), I'm not convinced it matters how or to how many parts we divide the person as long as we remember that we are each a UNITY. In fact, when we think of ourselves as image-bearers of a Triune God, it demands a unity in diversity, but not necessarily a tripartite man. Ok, I digress..

Using a model for healthcare (WHO definition of health), and the tripartite description in 1 Thes 5:23 of the Bible, I'm quite happy, for descriptive and life-management purposes (read: disclaimer, disclaimer! This is not a theological statement)to see man as biopsychosocial and and body, soul and spirit. I further sub-describe soul in terms of mind and heart - wherein the mind is rational/cognitive, and the heart is emotional/affective. Spiritually we relate to God, intuit the world, and our most primary motivations and subconscious driving force reside in our spirit. Socially we relate to others and in these relationships we often find our definition - in 'the other' so to speak.

Well, that is, in brief how I see the 'parts' or 'aspects' of a person that will need managing. As a concentric circle, I have the spirit in the centre, the soul (mind and heart) as the middle circle, and the body as the outer circle within a framework of the community (box).

To manage life, I will need to start there. In order of importance as well as direction of forces, I need to start from the centre - the spirit, from which everything flows: how I perceive the world, how I relate to self and others, what my motives and desires are, and so on. Following that, emotional, mental and physical health constitutes my core health. Without vibrant inner life, my outer life will surely collapse. From spirit to soul, soul to body, body to relationships with others: family, friends, colleagues, neighbours, etc. (I do consider relationship with self crucial - but that can come under emotional health.. more later.)

So to start the life-management process at this level.. I need to ask myself what is my desired outcome/goals:
1. Spiritually
2. Intellectually
3. Emotionally
4. Physically
5. Socially/relationally?
.. at the end of my life, at... well,.. as far you can project or to the end of this week!

Halfway there

2008-06-14T21:33:00.004+08:00

I turn 36 in a week. If 72 is the average lifespan of a man, I'm halfway there. I'm half done living, and I've got another half to go. No, I'm not making a big deal of it nor am I soliciting birthday gifts (or sympathy! LOL.) I just felt a 'lil, well, reflective, seeing that I'm growing old and all.

It's odd (but probably quite usual) that at thirty-six I'm learning some things for the first time in my life.. and going,.. 'You mean that's the way it's done? I'm 36 and I only just realised that? What have I been doing the last...'.

Well, one of those things is this: TIME SHOULD NOT BE MEASURED IN HOURS OR TASKS. This comes after years of attempting to manage time: new year's resolutions, yearly planning, quarterly goals, monthly reviews, weekly plans, daily execution schedules, domain/role mapping, and all that jazz (believe me I've tried it all, and invented a few of my own.) Well, after many years of frustration, and some of unprecedented success, I've realised it's not the way to go.

For one simple reason: life is not about how well I spend my hours (squeezing in as much productivity into the minute) nor of tasks accomplished. It's about meaningfully giving God glory, living out my calling, and blessing people in an impactful way.

If I've learnt anything being an educationist, it is that you should have clear objectives that match your desired outcome.

So if I live my life by hours and tasks, that is what I will achieve - hours spent, and tasks accomplished. Of course, if these hours were well spent and the tasks aligned to good goals - they would have had positive results. But that still does not ensure a satisfying experience executing them; nor real blessing to others in a spiritual/relational sense. More often than not I finish a week in blazing glory; every one of my projects well-executed, only to find myself NOT gratified and growing in joy. Instead I slump in the weekend, in a spent state wondering.. what's next.. And then I start again.

How SHOULD I measure/plan life then? I believe it's best to approach life with the same yardstick as we want to measure the outcome: SPIRITUAL AND RELATIONAL. Goals and tasks and time are servants of these realities. Even the holy grail of management - the vision and mission statement - are not penultimate. They are secondary to relationships (be it vertical - with God, horizontal - with others, or internal - with self) and the spirit of these relationships.

So, at thirty-six, I want to not to bother about the hours. Or the tasks completed (yes, we all love ticking off the boxes on our PDAs!) Don't get me wrong, I'm not going to stop planning my days or ticking off radio-boxes on my Task list. But I AM going to bring life-management to a more basic level. I don't know how I'm going to do it yet. I don't even have the vocabulary or appropriate categories. But I know I need to operate from a more basic, more primary cente.

...to be cont'd

Get fit reading, too!

2008-04-18T23:56:00.004+08:00

Who says you've gotta be all brawn and no brain? What makes you think it's one or the other, all or nothing. Be a well-educated fitness-freak. Be a healthy book worm.

Yan commented in the last post that she reads on her cross-trainer. See? What do you think makes a good journalist? Kit-Kats and ASTRO?

I've had to innovate a bit more this week because of the silly IELTS that I have to sit for to go overseas and study. It's ridiculous, of course. That I'm published in international peer-reviewed scientific journals but I have to sit for a silly English exam to prove that I can go read in the white man's university. My wife insists I should at least be familiar with the format of the test, so..

A sturdy document holder with clips for holding back the pages so you can read hands free is essential.

A good-sized book, with considerable thickness can fit in these (easily obtained from a PC store).

Makes me feel like I want to go back to school!

Number of obese growing bigger

2008-04-13T22:28:00.004+08:00

Malaysians had also grown accustomed to an affluent lifestyle, and were more comfortable sitting at home and watching television or being in front of the computer, instead of enjoying the outdoors.

..so says our YB The Health Minister who admits to being obese himself.

The point of my last post exactly! Now you can be in front of the computer as long as you like, and the longer the better. I've just done 15km on my bike just reading the Star and chatting with a couple of friends.

And, as promised, I found a pine-wood plank to put up on the handles, as pictured below. So now the mouse can go on and I have full PC control.

NEXT: The brackets and screw or maybe velcro to immobilise the tray.

The FIT Geek

2008-04-13T14:48:00.003+08:00

Ever felt you waste too much time on your PC? Knowing you could be doing something else more useful but can't think of what because you're too busy clicking and your mind is numbed by mindless surfing? Is your exercise bike gathering dust because you can't for the life of you spend 30 minutes pedalling nowhere?

Well.. here's a solution for you. Exercise AND surf the NET.

You'd be surprised how synergistic the two activities are. The mind-numbing effect of surfing the internet makes you FORGET you are exercising; so calories are being furnaced away while you're getting the latest lowdown on Malaysian politics, watching Marie Digby on YouTube or whatever it is you whittle your bandwidth on. No PAIN, ultimate GAIN.

How the heck do you do that, you ask? The question's been bothering me for a whole week. I've been going from twisting wires to drilling holes on my bike-shaft. I've surfed the net for adjustable-arm keyboard-tray to handheld remote-web-controllers. Then, I thought, why not ask my brother-in-law (Dr. Liew), the Mr.Fix-It-All of my family. In his typical mechatronic-genius, he knit his brows for a few seconds and dispensed his wisdom: Why can't you invert your bike handles?

And wa...laaa...

My wireless keyboard rests nicely on the tension-adjuster knob anteriorly and the edge of the handles posteriorly. The handles can be further rotated to get the correct angle to prevent RSI (though if you do, you should really just sit and work on the PC.) It's important to use a good browser like Opera where you can use a host of keyboard shortcuts to navigate - from switching tabs to going back and forward, zooming in and out, and activating voice and entering passwords automatically. And with this configuration you can still check your speed and distance every now and then.

Shown here is my workstation (under the cloth is my Korg 01/W - I haven't figured out how to play the keyboard while cycling yet.) To the right of the bike is my baby-monitor - young dads can only exercise when baby's asleep, you see... Now I REALLY have no excuse not to exercise.

In the last two days I've managed to get in 90 minutes of vigorous cycling, AND go through the whole of Malaysiakini, Malaysia Today, The Star and Reuters Health with time to spare. Talk about efficient! My next goal will be to write an entire paper or prepare a lecture while speeding through my 10k.

Who says geeks can't be fit?

NEXT PROJECT: Mount a board on those handles so I can put my wireless mouse on it too. Look out for the next edition of 'The FIT Geek!'

Is the grass really greener?

2008-03-30T10:03:00.006+08:00

You can be earning 5 times what you are now if you cross over to the private sector. How will you send your kids to medical school in UK with your current salary? This country is going nowhere, it's rotten to the core. At least in XXX-country discrimination isn't institutionalised, it's fairplay. So I've heard, ad nauseum. The grass is always greener on the other side.

Rookee has this interesting take on it.. Scientifically, it IS true that the grass is greener on the other side! He says:

..something about the direct angle at which we view a neighbor’s yard that makes the light reflect in such a way that more green is shown on a lawn farther away than the one at your own feet. In short, the grass you're standing on always has just a bit more brown than the grass that you're looking at, aspiring to, or dreaming about without any basis for your conclusions.

So, the grass is only greener when you're on the opposite side of the fence, looking from the outside! It's all a matter of perception, I guess. Personally, I think the grass is as green as we make it out to be.. and if it isn't, it's really up to me to grow my own grass. Otherwise, I'll just be hopping over fences the rest of my life, and never savor the gifts I have right under our feet; no matter how green the grass.

And if I should be considering a change of pastures... I have to ask myself, for what personal goals/reasons should I even contemplate it? And how does it bring any personal growth, enhance my giving to others, and give glory to God? It doesn't really matter where the grass is greener, it's which field I'm called to stand in and how I will nurture that field that counts!

To Ephesus I go

2008-03-28T22:28:00.003+08:00

Been some time since I studied for a theology/Bible-studies paper; even longer since I blogged! This semester with Moore College I've been 'accidentally' enrolled into doing Ephesians. I thought I'd take a break but I'm enrolled. Which,.. I reckon is a blessing in disguise. I do have some time and my interest is intact. And I'm thinking it's not a huge task - unlike the Pentateuch, Romans or the recent paper I sat on John's Gospel.

It will be very interesting to see what issues comes up in the in-depth study and how Paul the thinker wrestles with them, always bringing to bear vital Old Testament theology and yet managing to cut fresh ground with New Covenant realities.

Girls = Evil

2008-02-12T22:34:00.000+08:00

Gee.. I wished my maths teacher had taught me this.

The thrills of parenting

2007-11-19T21:56:00.000+08:00

There seems to be very few fathers who write about their children and parenting. Blogs abound of mothers discussing everything from stock-piling breast milk to the Mozart effect on children. Except for Marc Parent, I've read very few father accounts of raising kids. Why is that?

Is it that it's phenotypic of the male genetic code - to hunt, bring home bacon, and ward off attacking beasts (and so have little time to reflect and blog about baby's poo pattern) while the woman feeds, changes diapers and nurtures the child (and so meditate on every little burp and hiccup)? Or it just the stereotype of modern man? I don't know. But I sure got a story to tell.

The past few days I've had the chance to explore what it feels to be both. Joan had been on night shift for a stretch and then came down with a mega-flu that left her spluttering and coughing like a badly maintained wreck of a car. We decided it's best she slept in another room - a kind of reverse isolation as well as sound-proofing the ever-so-sensitive slumbering baby. I now know a little bit of what it's been like for her.

At about 8pm every night, Ethan is put to sleep. Much easier said than done, believe me. First there's the exhaust-himself phase of letting him crawl, scream, climb, and tear at every possible object in sight. When his eyes are red and he starts scratching his head, it's time to hold him and bounce around like a human spring. That will last anything from 10 minutes to half an hour.

We are not to be fooled by him shutting his eyes. To prematurely put him down will be a folly to regret - with another hour of wakefulness at least. The art is to cradle him another 10-15 minutes till he's 'deepened' (to borrow an anesthetist's term). When his limbs fall limp and his head flops around, you have licence to put him on the bed.

The next trick is to keep him asleep for the next 10 hours... Akin to 'topping up the relaxant' what you need to do is to prepare a night's supply of milk ready to be mixed and delivered. Set your very quiet alarm to go off at intervals just before extreme hunger. Half an hour too soon and you'll wake him unnecessarily. Too late and he'll wake you wailing, not to be easily placated. If your timing is just right, you can pick him up, slide the teat into amenable lips and have him gobble down enough milk to induce post-prandial hyperglycemia. Hence you have succesfully preempted the painful ritual of having to put him back to sleep at 2 o'clock in the morning.

Today, after giving Ethan his dinner, I decided to go for a walk to the neighbourhood mamak and get my own dinner. So, here we were, father and son, walking down the street. Hey, this is the 21st century, I thought to myself. What do you need to go get some food? It's not like we need to clobber hungry bears or ward off jackals. Fatherhood has come a long way since the Peking man. A pram and a brolly in one hand should suffice, so I thought. I was dead wrong.

We did the father-son walk in the evening thing.. Stop to meow at cats. Wave to toothless grandmothers. Watch for oncoming traffic. Until I saw him. His eyes bore holes into mine as we locked stares. The moment he knew I knew what he was thinking he leapt through the open gate, bounded across the street, fangs shining, claws in the air, barking with a baby-devouring vengeance. That's when my caveman instincts kicked in. Man against dog. Seriously I don't know where it came from. I spun Ethan's pram around to face away, blocked him off, and raised my (ahem) umbrella at the mangy mutt shouting some gibberish I can't remember. He stopped in his tracks and barked. Then I waved the tip of the umbrella at him menacingly as though to say 'one move and I'll smash your canine skull into so many pieces you'll regret the day you whimpered mama'. (Ok it was nothing as articulate as that)

Thankfully, I didn't have to do anything as embarassing as wrestle a dog or attempt to impale it with an umbrella. A girl ran up, yanked the dog's chain, and tried to reassure me 'he doesn't bite..'. Somehow the saliva dripping from his fangs and the psychopathic carniverous look in his eyes wasn't as reassuring. I mumbled something stupid, and quickly strode off. But not until checking on Ethan.. 'Are you ok? Were you frightened?' He looked up at me, puzzled, oblivious, and grinned.. as though to say, 'What was that all about?' Ok.. I was the one puking my heart out. It took me the rest of the walk to the store and back to calm my fibrillating heart.

The thrills and spills of parenting. Of being father and mother. I wouldn't exchange anything in the world for it. Though my wife doubts I'll feel that way tomorrow morning at 4, bobbing and swaying zombie-like. Me the human spring. Evolution. Look where it's got us.

Laudate Dominum

2007-11-03T00:12:00.001+08:00

Was putting Ethan to sleep with some Mozart and came to one of the most beautiful pieces of music ever written, Laudate Dominum (Latin for Praise the Lord). Was pleasantly surprised to find more than one version of it on YouTube and a perfect translation into English on another website. What a wonderful night of worship through music.

I'm putting up the video which features Rachel Harnisch backed by the Berlin Philharmonic, and conducted by von Karajan. Divine.

The translation can be found at Emmanuel Music and sheet music for it at Williams Students Online

Praise the Lord, all nations;
Praise Him, all people.
For His has bestowed
His mercy upon us,
And the truth of the Lord endures forever.
Glory to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit,
as it was in the beginning, is now, and forever,
and for generations of generations. Amen

Caffeine Contents

2007-10-30T18:54:00.001+08:00

I thought this might be interesting to the many 24hr-caffeinated people I have in my network of friends; many of whom you will find getting their fix in the local Starbucks or Coffee Bean. The Center for Science in the Public Interest has a nifty chart of the caffeine content in popular coffees, home brew, instant, soft drinks, desserts and illicit drugs.

I presume this is on the Center for Science in the Public Interest for 2 reasons: 1) it's in the caffeine-addicted public's best interest to know where to get their caffeine when in deprivation and 2) It's in the public's best interest not to deprive the caffeine-addicted of their caffeine. Overall, it makes the world a happier place for everyone; hence science in the public interest.

The other great website is Coffee Science which among other things, alerts us to the many health benefits we'd be missing out if we missed our morning cup of coffee. Apart from relieving headaches, and sparing your colleagues from the Mr. Hyde side of you, it also crushes gallstones and prevents cancer. Need I say more?

Ethan at play

2007-10-29T15:47:00.000+08:00

Our church creche has a lovely skylight to let in the morning sun and nice pillows and a red carpet to give it color. Couldn't resist taking a few shots of Ethan at play. There he is trying to put a shoe in his mouth.

Stedfastness displayed

2007-10-24T12:46:00.001+08:00

I am incredibly proud to say the least.

Saturday last, the little one started to purge and didn't stop. We counted at least 16 times in a day. Then his temperature soared to a blazing 39.6C. While we were frantically trying to put out his fire by sponging and suppositories, he started vomiting. With the volume he was putting out we were sure he had lost half his body weight.

He couldn't take anything orally. He was miserable. He wailed madly as we sponged him incessantly.

We prayed hard. We lost sleep. We were frayed and exhausted.

But to our amazement he turned the corner really fast. By Monday, as soon as the temperature started dropping, his mood started picking up and he was back to his usual self. Yesterday evening he decided to prove to his fretful guardians that he was OK and proceeded to stand on his own two feet, unsupported, for the very first time!

Ain't gonna let no AGE (acute gastroenteritis) keep me down. No No No. His indomitable spirit has us awe-struck.

He's got something to teach us about getting the tough going when the going gets tough.

Ethan, the stedfast one... because the One is Stedfast.

There Is No Fence!

2007-10-24T12:36:00.001+08:00

Sometimes I envy those who are pastors, counselors, writers and all other kinds of full-time Christian ministry. It's odd that I should feel this way because I often chide fellow Christians for asking that annoying question: 'I wonder if I should go into full-time ministry'.

Not that I have the slightest objection to Christian ministry and being paid by the church for it. It's just the dichotomy and exclusivity that kind of question comes from that I don't agree with. My stock answer is: We're all full time Christians, and everything we do under the sun is service and worship to God. The difference is technical - a matter of who issues your paycheck. After, all our salaries come from the one God who Provides, and every Christian has a mutually inclusive responsibility both to the world and to the church. The world is God's creation we are appointed caretakers of, and the church is the gathering of His redeemed. Full-time, part-time, or no-time our calling is the same.

So I'm annoyed at myself for looking over the fence jealously, coveting the greener pasture of undistracted gospel-teaching and spiritual-nurturing.

The problem, I guess, lies with the atmosphere that surrounds what we do: the work that isn't church-related is all about making money, tainted with all the unbridled ambition, self-realisation/self-assertion/self-exaltation in the world; and church-related work is all about self-sacrifice, humble service, and oh-so-holy. This is again a false dichotomy and I just have to dismantle this wrong perception and baggage that comes with role-stereotyping. When we cast our roles in almost dark vs light and good vs evil tones, we encourage endless hand-wringing and agonising over our every life choice.

My job at the hospital and university can and should be a sacrificial expression of servanthood and holy - set apart for God. Church-related work is not impervious to selfish motives. and ugly ambition. But both are important, and constitute one life under one God.

So,.. stop looking over the fence, I tell myself. THERE IS NO FENCE, for God's sakes (pun intended). It's all one pasture under God, and how green it looks depends on what I make of it and how I look at it.

STEMLIE??

2007-10-09T00:07:00.001+08:00

Medicine Malaysia alerted that a particular cord blood banking company in Malaysia is facing serious allegations of malpractice. I'm wondering if any serious investigation is being undertaken or if this is just an internet hoax or company war.

Ethan's cord blood is being stored at one of these companies (though not the one alleged). If one of these companies (supposedly the pioneer and most reputable one) is guilty of such horrific practices (read 10 Reasons Why You Shouldn't Use Co. X) one has to wonder if any of these companies are properly accredited.

Another reason to stand up against corruption wherever it is found. Bangladeshis are trapped by the thousands, flyover bridges collapse over your head, murders go on unsolved, and tainted cord blood is stored for future reinfection?! God have mercy on us all.

In the cool of the evening

2007-10-06T21:12:00.000+08:00

I quit my Saturday afternoon locum job. I decided that the extra cash wasn't worth it. I've been telling myself I wanted to stop for months, worn out every Saturday evening and having hardly anything for a weekend. TODAY, today, I celebrate my first Saturday OFF. And what a Saturday.

I came home and heroically took over the care of Ethan. To reward his amazingly sacrificial father, he decided to clam his mouth shut, tighter than prison cell bars whenever I tried to feed him. He wouldn't sleep, and he wouldn't be put down. It was an afternoon of all out war. By the time I was done with him, the dining floor was splattered with broth and milk all over. Tiring, but helluva fun.

After a good bath and diaper change, I took him out for a walk. The air was biting and cool, a slow breeze tossed the trees around, birds were
chirping, squirrels were scurrying to get out of the way. It was a perfect evening for a walk, father and son. Saturdays were made for this.

The time is now

2007-08-08T20:49:00.000+08:00

The time that's lapsed since the last post was the most recent lap of crazy, stress-filled days. What's happened? Let me try and recall... I went to Singapore twice. Once by bus and another time by train. I was sick for three weeks. I got admitted to hospital and discharged for what is until now still a mysterious 'viral illness.' I got better just in time to fly to to Australia and attend a conference. Oh, and lest I forget that 'fly to Australia' is easier said than done, there was the nightmare of cutting through a forest of government red tape to make it to the airport.

But, this time, I can truly, truly say it's OVER. I presented my last paper for the year there. I sat through three full days of heavy molecular talk of which I understood 1% (mostly in the CONCLUSION slides). I caught another flu and coughed my way home. But I'm glad to be home and I'm glad there are NO MORE CONFERENCES. This weekend I'm going to Tasik Chini for some mission work, which is the second trip in 2 months, but I think I'll enjoy this one since I'm not organising it.

The best rest I got the last two months, I have to admit was on the hospital bed. And a few days in Brisbane before the conference. Tonight is a quiet night. It's unbelievable, it's sacred. It's been months and months and months since. Tonight baby is soundly asleep. Joan is studying for a test. And I'm blogging... Who'd have imagined I'd get a chance to blog?!

But hang on a minute. Before I start blaming anyone or sounding like a victim. It's all my own doing. I forget that I'm in control and I decide how I want to live and how I want things to be.
If I want time to rest, I make time to rest. If I want time to read, I make time to read. Why should I have to degenerate into a soul-less surgery-performing, paper-churning, research-designing soul-less machine? For whom? And for what? I decide how.

Today I have a boy who is calling me 'eddieeee'. He's not even seven months, six if you adjust for his premature birth. And Ethan is calling me 'eddieeee.' I have no words for how amazing it is. And it comes at a right time. My boy is calling me into the moment and coming into the present. He's helping me take the leap. Into the moment. I don't want to be so wrapped up in problems and anxieties to lose the full import of this. I want to be able to enjoy and absorb the meaning of what's happening in real time. A child has called me daddy. He is my own and I am his. So pure, so trusting, so effacing in his emotions.

Sigh... Children have everything to teach us, everything that we have unlearnt and buried with layers of skepticisim, pessimism, and realism. Children have everything to teach us and we have everything to relearn.

Burning both ends

2007-06-24T20:37:00.001+08:00

Today is perhaps the first time in weeks I've had a real stop & rest. I can't remember the last time I was not under some major pressure or stressful situation.

Not that stress is necessarily bad, I've learnt. Stress makes you grow, learn new skills, recondition the meaning we attach to circumstances. In any case stress is lousy term to use for human beings. Stress is a concept transferred from material physics - a measure of how much pressure a rigid object can withstand before it breaks. We are not rigid objects. We're living beings, and like the tissue we're made of, stretch, grow, remodel, even redifferentiate sometimes to meet the challenge.

I could go back as far as Ethan's birth. The prolonged jaundice. The 3 sleepless months of infantile spasm/colic. (Believe me the distress of an inconsolable child is MAJOR - to child and parents!) Or when the land office and loans departments delayed my home purchase. Or to the time when we started meeting and haggling with contractors for renovations. More recently, wrangling with City Hall officials on what nobody could decide was permissible. But the really draining marathon has been the last 4 weeks.

This has been the season of conferences, trips and public presentations. 25 May - Free Paper at the MSOHNS AGM in Camerons. 30 May - 1 June, National Health Policy meeting. 8 June, another Free Paper at the College of Surgeons scientific meeting in Camerons. 11 June, lecture on NPC to postgrads in UKM. 16-17 June, mission trip to an OA settlement in Chini. And today, another address at the Singapore-Malaysia ENT meeting. In between all that are numreous surgeries and research meetings. But I breathe a long sigh of relief. This is the last of a series of public talks and I can put my powerpoints to rest at last.

I've been burning my candle from both ends, and this week I 'made ends meet'. Two days ago I woke up with vertigo and tinnitus. This was two days after an 8hr surgery (radical neck and pec major flap.) Today was the last burst of flames before I would turn into ashes. I gave it all I got, came home, and collapsed next to Ethan in bed.

Today, at long last,.. I can sit quietly and just do nothing. I haven't done nothing in a while. Have Ethan claw away and gnaw at my chest. Read animal books to him. Browse the Net randomly. Make pasta. Sip coffee. It's wonderful.

Ethan, Ethan, Ethan

2007-05-24T08:55:00.000+08:00

I'm sure you can imagine if I tell you our hands have been full.

Very, very, full indeed. And you will understand that our current obsession is nothing but Ethan, Ethan, Ethan.

And I gotta admit, after the first couple of colicky months and sleepless nights, having Ethan is a BLAST!!

Watching him bloom and thrive, observing his emerging traits, cheering him from milestone to milestone and seeing him respond to us is just undescribably amazing.

This is a short photo chronicle of his journey so far...

Ethan: Week 3 of Life

Ethan: One Month!

Ethan does the Bee Gees

Chinese New Year '07

Ethan: 1 mt old

Ethan: 10-12 weeks

Ethan goes to Singapore

Ethan: 3mts old

Ethan goes to Genting Highlands

Google Idioms Galore

2007-04-06T09:55:00.001+08:00

taken from 55 ways to have fun with Google, by Philipp Lensen

How many Googles must a man walk down?
Googlemorgen America
Thus quothe the raven, “Google more!”
Wherefore art thou, Google
Google and prejudice
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I Googled weak and weary
I am a Googlevangelist
Googles up, hang ten!
Google is the dictator that everyone loves
You can’t spell God without Google
Stairway to Google
Dude, where’s my Google?
Got Google?
We are all Googlers under Google
In the beginning, there was Google
I Google, therefore I am
It was the best of Googles, it was the worst of Googles
All my kingdom for a Googler
Peace, Love, and Google
All you need is Google
Google like it’s 1999
The Google at the end of the rainbow
We’ve found a witch! Can we Google her?
The Googler on the roof
One flew over the Googlenest
Why can’t the English teach their children how to Google
We are the knights who say Google
Google spoke Zarathustra
That’s why the Google is a tramp
Murder she Googled
Save the last Google for me
There’s not enough Google in this town for the both of us
I’ll Google you on the flip-side
The Scarlett Google
The Purloined Google
“Googligans Island”
All my Googles
Oops, I Googled Again
The Googlebury Tales
Google and the Beast
A Midsummer Nights’ Google
20,000 Googles Under the Sea
Something Googled this way comes
Google to the death!
You smell like a Google...and you look like one too
I dream of Google
Google it again Sam
Uncle Google wants you!
To Google Times
Out of the Google and into the fire!
Don’t throw the Google out with the bathwater
Bad Brian, you must say 20 hail Googles!
Bless those who Google you
Google, the final frontier
Google, interrupted
Gone with the Google
I can’t get no Googlefaction
Saturday night Google
DONOTTHINKABOUTAPINKGOOGLE
You Google my name, and you know wherever I am.
Jack, I’m Googling!
I’m Gooooogling in the rain
Google outside the box
Beyond Google and evil
Do you know where your Google is?
Dr. Strangelove, or how I learned to stop worrying and love the Google
Murder by Google
To Google or not to Google.
To sleep, perchance to Google!
My name is Google, you killed my father.
It’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s Google!
And they Googled happily ever after
Do you promise to love, honor, and Google, until death do you part?
The lone Googler
Big Google is watching you
Google the man!
The first rule of Google is not to talk about Google
Gone with the Google
Frankly my dear, I don’t give a Google!
Googleblanca
Love in the time of Google
War and Google
Googleonia
The west side Google
Larry, Moe, and Google
Give me Google or give me death!
Four Googles and 20 years ago
Googletrek, the next generation
Googlescene investigation
Red, white, and Google
Google Potter
How many Googles does it take to turn into a lightbulb?
55 Ways to Have Fun With Google
I was lost, but now am Googled
Not a creature was Googling, not even a mouse
Do the Googlewoogy
And I took the road less Googled, and that has made all the difference
The Googler’s Guide to the Galaxy
So long, and thanks for all the Google
Google No. 5
Return of the Google
Do the hokey pokey, and Google all around
Abandon all hope, all ye who Google here
A Google in the Dark
The Google that roared
Google on the Oriental Express
Googlecalifragilisticexpialidocious
You can’t have your Google and eat it to
If I was the last man on earth, would you Google me?
Saved by the Google
Hand over the Google and nobody gets hurt
Google is my co-pilot
Sometimes a Google is just a Google
Do not meddle in the affairs of Googlers
Gooogle, taste the rainbow
Have you hugged your Google today?
Wake up and smell the Google
Here’s a quarter; Google someone who cares
No shirt, no Google, no service
I know its only Google but I like it
If it feels good Google it
Advanced whitening Google
Keep your Googles to yourself
I think I Googled my pants
Put a Google on your face
The Googlepride Googleparade
USS Google, departing
Googlers of the world unite
Stop Googling your nose
Never underestimate the power of Google
Your Google is so soft!
Friends don’t let friends Google drunk
Do you have a designated Googler?
Is that a Google in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?
The restaurant order slips these are written on are Googlebilia
All roads lead to Google
One Google, two Geegles
The Googleogical Argument
Girls giggle and boys Google
Frankly my dear, I don’t give a Google.

Stedfast One

2007-01-22T23:02:00.000+08:00

I've been meaning to post something since Ethan was born on Jan 13. But you know how it is - between feeds, washing, getting food, and tidying up - there's hardly time to breathe. And for the first week, we were hospital-bound anyway. But today, I thought it timely to break blog-silence to announce the official NAMING of Ethan.

I trudged up to the National Registration Department office at Tmn Maluri today and penned it down - YAP ETHAN. It's final. He's going to have live with it all his life, answer to it, introduce himself by it. He is Ethan. Ethan is pronounced EE-than. It is of Hebrew origin, and its meaning is "firmness, steadfastness, constancy". From the Bible, Ethan is a wise man, an Ezrahite, in Solomons time, son of Zerah son of Judah; the father of Azariah,son of Zimmah, of Gershom of Levi; ancestor of Asaph; the father of Adaiah,son of Kishi (Merari Levi); a worship leader in David's time (1Ki 4:31 Psa 89:1 1Ch 2:6 1Ch 2:8 1Ch 6:42 1Ch 6:44 1Ch 15:17 1Ch 15:19). He's the guy who gave us 'I will sing of the mercies of the Lord, forever'. No, he was not named after Ethan Hunt in Mission Impossible or the actor Ethan Hawke!

The Chinese name was a bit tricky though. But we had very simple criteria: names that sound like Ethan, and has a meaning congruent to it.

With the inexhaustible and wondrous resources of the internet - we found it. All it takes is a good Chinese-English dictionary that can search for PinYin phonetics and display corresponding Chinese words and their meanings. We fell in love with two names - Yi(4) which means 'resolute and decisive', and Deng (4) which means 'path up a mountain'. I think the names say it all. Not that we expect a hard and laborious life for him. But it certainly speaks both of the struggle he has been through already, and the spiritual journey all of us must make.

And my dad, the self-taught Chinese linguistic expert was happy to clear it.

Naming a child certainly has all the import of aspiration and intuition we read of in the Bible. Something deep within tells us that the child has such intrinsic traits and in some way the name spells out his destiny. It also defines our aspirations, and the way we hope to bring him up - with a sense of grit and readiness to face life head on; knowing the God who calls him, and what he is called to.

Well, apart from all that destiny-conscious talk, we think he's just mighty adorable and helluva rascal. Guess you gotta have mischief and a sense of humor to make it through the terrain of life's steep ascent.

Pix of him, BTW - are uploaded to Picasaweb.

Ethan - Week 2 of Life

Reclaiming friendship

2007-01-08T15:50:00.000+08:00

We may consider many people friends - colleagues in the office, party acquaintances, old classmates, or church members whose hands we shake every week. But there are friends, and there are friends.

We sometimes say someone is a 'true friend' because he or she was there for us when we truly needed someone, when he or she helped us or showed love and understanding when nothing was to be gained.

Nouwen defines friendship thus:

Friendship is being with the other in joy and sorrow, even when we cannot increase the joy or decrease the sorrow. It is a unity of souls that gives nobility and sincerity to love. Friendship makes all of life shine brightly. Blessed are those who lay down their lives for their friends.

It makes me think - what kind of friend am I to others? Real friendship has a very covenantal flavour. When I call someone friend, or think of myself as a friend to anyone, I should in essence be binding myself to him or her. I am saying to another - I am here for you and I seek your highest good. Friendship goes deeper than offering help, occasional smiles or advice. It is a promise lived out in every day life. Redefining friendship in this way imbues it with real meaning and makes me more human.

Vulnerable living

2007-01-03T23:30:00.000+08:00

In today's online reading, Nouwen says:

Life is precious. Not because it is unchangeable, like a diamond, but because it is vulnerable, like a little bird. To love life means to love its vulnerability, asking for care, attention, guidance, and support. Life and death are connected by vulnerability. The newborn child and the dying elder both remind us of the preciousness of our lives. Let's not forget the preciousness and vulnerability of life during the times we are powerful, successful, and popular.

Well, this is timely. Times have been tough these last weeks, with Joan getting severe gastritis and her blood pressure climbing dangerously in the last trimester. Today she had to be observed in the ward for an extremely high pressure. Thankfully, her bloods and the scans show no danger signs.

Being medical professionals, we are well aware of the risks and many fatal implications of hypertension in pregnancy. So, for us, it's very humbling to submit to the help of other doctors, and the prayer support of many loving friends. And Nouwen helps me realise that we are celebrating life most when we are not trying to be self-sufficient and invulnerable but needing one another and being complete together.

Small steps forward

2006-12-14T22:44:00.000+08:00

This year has been marked by so many new experiences. New beginnings and the start of many great adventures. While they have each stressed us out in their own way, they have also been gifts - offering us insights into God's order and inviting us to grow; embracing reality.

The biggest of these, without a doubt is the arrival of Ethan. I say arrival because, though his grand expulsion is still 7 weeks away, he is too much of a lively kicker to be thought of as merely a fetus or an unborn child. I strongly disagree when someone exclaims 'O you're going to be a father!' Excuse me, I retort (silently), I AM a father. My son's just not seen the light of day yet. In every other way, he's my child, who as far as I can tell, is a mighty kicker, recognizes my voice, is soothed by Mozart. He loves the belly rub and sulks when ignored for too long. Ethan is my son, in whom I am well pleased.

The second of these is buying a house. Yes, we took the plunge and sank in our life savings and more into an old place in Taman Midah. I fell in love with the complexity of this many-staired split level unit while Joan hated it at first. But with some imagination, we can visualise our new home. Where Ethan will play, where we'll chill, what joyful moments and memories will be birthed there. From looking at ceramic bowls to timber pergolas, it is a powerful experience to ready a home and prepare a room for my child (and future children maybe?) who have not yet transitioned from womb to world.

The third is dealing with death. With the deaths of many dear ones this year, and my own studies on Eschatology in the PTC courses - I realise my worldview and tenets of living must change. I am learning the most about how to live from thinking about how I will die. And the greatest lession is realising we are not as a materialist-humanist might think, slowing down to extinction but really, gathering momentum to a great transformation. All of creation groans and moans along with mankind towards the coming of the New Heaven & Earth. The resurrected Jesus will on that Day raise us all in new flesh to a glorious new existence and all of creation with us who have loved and known Him. O, what could be more exciting than to view death as the portal to new life. Paul's metaphor of labor pains is pregnant (no pun intended) with meaning. New life is already here now contained within, hidden from view. But that day will come when that new life will be delivered - expulsed gloriously as it were into a new order of existence.

We are learning not to fear it - for ourselves, for others, or for those we leave behind. We learn to embrace our destiny with excitement. Being doctors, we are daily reminded of our mortality. Of how abruptly endings descend on our fragile earthly existence. Even the simple process of conception and childbirth is so wrought with dangers - fatal and maligning - that every step forward requires courage and faith. Yet it is this faith that is the goal of our journey; growing a deep-seated belief within amid so much despair and darkness. 'By faith and for faith', 'faith, from first to last' - Paul's battle cry in Romans - is our anchor in these storms we are coming up against.

We smile at the storm. Not unfazed or indifferent - just knowing we will weather it well, with Christ in the vessel. The months ahead are challenging at the least - delivery, house works, moving house, changing jobs for Joan, possibly an overseas stint for me. But we hold on to each other - the Father, the Son, the Spirit; enfolding mommy, daddy and Ethan. Come what may - by faith, for faith we journey on!

School of Hard Knocks

2006-12-01T12:29:00.001+08:00

I've made my fair share of mistakes as a doctor. Administrating medications by a wrong route. Missing a diagnosis. Choosing the wrong treatment. Complications from surgery. Some of them have been potentially fatal, and how many have contributed to expediting a patient's departure from this world - who knows? Medicine is not a perfect science.

I recall many such instances when my judgement was not always the best nor my observation the keenest. But a surgeon said to me once, 'Complications are taught to you because they happen. You learn them so you can avoid them best you can, but know how to deal with them when they do happen. A surgeon who says he has not had complications is either lying or hasn't done enough!' Well said. I wouldn't use that as a selling point to my patients, but nonetheless, a person who admits mistakes clears his path to progress.

The seniors I respect the most are the ones who will teach from their experiences. Especially those who will recall the disasters they encountered or caused and warn against repeating their mistakes. Seniors are seniors, in part at least, because they have made more mistakes. Mistakes qualify them to guide those following in their steps. Similarly when we make mistakes, we beat ourselves and take time putting humpty-dumpty back together again, but we are in the process of becoming experts ourselves.

Nobody should make mistakes intentionally or keep making the same mistake over and again. Yet, looking back, the things I have learnt best and remember the longest, were learnt through humiliating errors. All the more effective if a supervisor skinned and whipped me for it. Sound a little masochistic? Well, yeah. Nonetheless, it's true. So I also tell my students - be brave, speak up, and make your mistakes now. You will learn better for having been corrected than by saying the safe and right thing all the time.

We will follow

2006-11-22T11:29:00.000+08:00

Shocking news came a week ago, ripping through small church community in Cheras. A young and promising leader of their assembly died suddenly while on a business trip in the Philippines. He was 32, and he leaves behind his wife and 2 daughters. I didn't know him well, but having spent a few years with that church before, I know them to be very closely knit and unwavering in their partnership in the gospel. They have lost a dear brother and courageous comrade.

Though I have missed the privilege of knowing Raymond as intimately as others in the Petra & Jalan Imbi family, both Joan & I have a deep impression of Raymond's zeal as a Christian and stedfastness as a father. It is our loss not to have known him better. By all accounts, he proved himself to be an inspiring leader both in the marketplace and in the church. Unwaveringly dedicated to the highest good of everyone around him. But most remarkably (as we discovered at the service), he lived ready, organising and orientating his life around an anticipated early return to God.

If his "theme song" (which was used in the service) says anything at all about how he chose to live, we heard it in these words:

"You lived to die
Rejected and alone
Like the rose
Trampled on the ground
You took the fall
And thought of me."

Raymond showed us how to live and how to die. He chose the way of Jesus; living and dying for others and for the gospel. And we are all encouraged to live as worthily! The seed that has fallen to the ground is already bursting forth with new life in all our hearts. This is not a death-in-vain, by far! It is his greatest gift to us all. I am thankful to the wife and his dearest friends for sharing his life and departure with us.

May the "God of all comfort" be ever present to Anne and her beautiful daughters, and all Raymond's family.

Finding a Nest

2006-11-15T23:24:00.000+08:00

These past months have been harrowing, and more so this last one week. We're in that stage for life - house hunting. I entered into this clueless and have had to learn many things the hard way. Freehold, leasehold, built-up space, renovated, property loans, mortgages, booking fee, land office consent - all Greek to me.

With baby Ethan on the way (oh yes, we've learnt that it's a boy!), the impetus to find a nest for mother bird to incubate has intensified. We've already gone through several months of legal wrangling, over the sale of a Bumiputera-owned lot the Land Office will not consent to. The seller was more hurt than we were, but our hopes for the place went through some roller-coaster turns before we finally gave up.

Barely recovered from that we were again given the slip. Another seller pulls out of a purchase when the ink on my cheque was still wet! We were furious. After seeing the house, falling in love with it, and paid the booking! Sigh,.. we are learning from these hard knocks. Meanwhile our agent, perhaps a bit guilty at having let a deal fall through, has been working over time to find us another nest. We've seen so many places we're starting to confuse them.

I'm feeling a lot like a bird surveying for a place to build a nest, and bringing mama bird to inspect the newfound spot, anxiously awaiting her approval.

What HAS been interesting is learning what is important in finding that right property. A stable township, easy access to major routes, nearby park facilities, structural sound-ness, and most of all, picturing ourselves living there. A place we can call home. In the meantime, we continue hunting, Google-Earthing, sifting sales-pitch from genuine value, playing the game of holding out or acting fast, anticipating renovation costs, etc. etc. ad nauseum.

With God as my help, I'll find a place and build a nest yet!

A Whole New World

2006-11-01T15:46:00.001+08:00

The best kind of discovery is the kind that opens up a whole new world to you. A bit like Christopher Columbus arriving on the shores of America, I feel like I've just set foot on totally new terrain. Not that they are uncharted territories, unknown to man but only that they are completely new to me.

I'm the kind of guy who loves stumbling on a new road or a new township. I'd sneak some detour drive to secretly explore roads when no one's around, just to know how things connect. I spend disproportionate amounts of time studying maps and staring at Google Earth images. I have an irrepressible need to know where the road leads and what's around the corner. My approach to life seems to be one big exploration.

Hence the thrill at discovering Biblical Theology and Salvation History (or Heilsgeschichte). Biblical Theology seeks to address the theology/thinking of individual authors, books, and periods of the Bible within the context of their time in history; and build a theology of what the WHOLE Bible says by piecing together the individual perspectives. Salvation History on the other hand describes a cohesive story line of the whole Bible, discerns its direction and breaks them down into its natural stages or periods. In that way these stages can be compared and used to elaborate the story line in its own framework.

Both give me new paradigms to approach the Bible. Rather than a mere collection of 66 books, lumped together according to genre and period, I begin to see that they form a progressive story line with a definite beginning and end. There is a cohesive direction to the whole volume (of volumes). There is an introductory crisis, an anticipated resolution, and countless cycles of tension and relief, approaching or retreating from the problem that demands an answer from the very beginning. And all throughout, the solution unfolds itself, anticipating, hinting, clarifying, setting the stage, to a real climactic end.

Both give me frameworks to think about any given topic. Instead of lifting statements from all over the place to construct an argument based on proof-texts, I have a means of delineating how an element unfolds throughout the Bible. With BT I can discern what various authors thought in various periods/situations in history and correlate them to build a whole. With SH I can trace the evolution of an idea progressively unpacking through the story line and its major stops along the path.

My initial foray into BT and SH have resulted in two pieces - one on Guidance, and another on Worship.

BT and SH promises to revolutionise the way I think about the Bible, myself, and the world. You could say my worldview is being redefined. And the best part of all is that I've only just set foot on the new world. I am on a threshold of many years of discovery. And nothing is more thrilling than the combination of having a road to travel on but not knowing what lies ahead. Ahhh.. the joy of discovery and the discovery that leads to endless discoveries!

The Disk Arrived

2006-10-09T18:06:00.000+08:00

Today I am the happiest man.

I have waited 3 weeks, and it has arrived. I palpitated thinking of it. I moaned waiting for it. I lost sleep wondering what it would be like to hold it in my hands. And today I have it. The best 400 bucks I've spent in a long time for the wealthiest resource I could own in one disk.

The IVP Essential Reference Collection.

I need no longer scrounge around others' libraries and look longingly at their volumes. I don't have to wait for that once a week visit to a pastor's office to thumb his New Dictionary of Biblical Theology or hang around SU bookstore to get free reads. Now I have it under my fingertips (not at), under, in my laptop.

My favorite of the 25 titles here must be the Biblical Theology dictionary and possibly the background commentaries for New and Old Testament. I'm awed by these works and can imagine how much more enriched will be my studies and meditations on Christian Scripture and the history of Christian Thought.

I am a happy man indeed! Back to the books I go.

Out of the woods

2006-10-09T17:08:00.000+08:00

Frankly, I've just come out severe blues. Running a clinic was taking every bit of strength I had and dashing to the office to hide and croak after it. After a week of agonizing under its weight, I thought I was turning the corner until a viral flu hit. The second round I was almost suicidal! The world never seemed so dark, and the slightest effort felt like lifting a truck. Thank God for a weekend in Kuching - a wedding, lotsa friends and their kids, and not to mention, good food! (Teh-C-Special and chopped freshly-roasted lamb are must haves!)

That finally did the trick. No amount of navel-gazing and quiet coffee-binging at Starbucks in KL could do it. Getting away helped me detach and look at life from the outside for a sec. With the escape, I guess I was 'freed' to come to the point of 'enough is enough, I'm not going to let this ruin my life. People in my life are too important to waste life crabbing around.' You could say I emerged from the shroud(the Kalimantan haze, that is), slightly more adjusted in my valuation of what's important.

(Insight more restored, I can see in retrospect that I was headed that way from a long marathon burnout stretch of 6 weeks back-to-back high-stakes, towering-expectations activity - on call, exams, speaking, mercy trip to jungle, on call, speaking, major surgeries, operating back-to-back in 3 different OTs, research. The crazy thing about activity is that it snowballs into more till you're overrun with it out of control. So I've vowed to myself from now till 2007, NO MORE speaking engagements. Perhaps ONE fun trip to the outback to visit my favorite OA families. And then it's Christmas with friends and family. Sanity must be preserved.)

Yesterday was a happy evening, one first after a long time. You kinda appreciate little things like that when the mood-o-meter's been below zero for a long tiem. Friends had come over for a group discussion on Vocation and Life issues around the book 'Courage and Calling.' We shared our stories, prayed for one another, and had a scrumptious meal at a nearby Cafe. Nothing fancy. But just sitting together, sharing a meal, and exchanging light-hearted moments meant a great deal to me. I felt so much more human.

Today, I took my parents out for lunch and a skosh of shopping. It's nice to sit around, have coffee with them, and chat idly about going-ons and other nothing-too-significant things. Just being in the parent-child companionship without any agenda. I want to make the most of the day while it's still bright and before anu dark clouds start rolling in again!

We will walk together

2006-08-26T11:45:00.000+08:00

A student of mine recently lost her father to liver cancer. He died almost as suddenly as the pathology was discovered, leaving the family shell-shocked. There was hardly any time for coming to grips with the disease, much more with his sudden departure. From what little I hear, he was the most loving and responsible of fathers. I can see the grief and loss is immense, but there must be also a storehouse of rich memories for them to plumb in the coming days.

While I grieve with her, I contemplate afresh what death means to me.

Nouwen says:

Death is a passage to new life. That sounds very beautiful, but few of us desire to make this passage. It might be helpful to realise that our final passage is preceded by many earlier passages. When we are born we make a passage from life in the womb to life in the family. When we go to school we make a passage from life in the family to life in the larger community. When we get married we make a passage from a life with many options to a life committed to one person...

Each of these passages is a death leading to new life. When we live these passages well, we are becoming more prepared for our final passage.

Seen that way, death is a final passage that I can embrace, not deny or fight against. I will not live recklessly as though I will never die. And I refuse to die regretfully, as though I had never lived. Knowing where I am going and that I must go compels me to live meaningfully not despairingly.

The prospect of losing our most loved ones also numbs us. Sometimes it even drives us into a kind of self-protective isolation, pushing away people and walling up our vulnerable hearts. But again, Nouwen warns us:

Every time we make the decision to love someone, we open ourselves to great suffering, because those we most love cause us not only great joy but also great pain. The greatest pain comes from leaving. When the child leaves home, when the husband or wife leaves for a long period of time or for good, when the beloved friend departs to another country or dies ... the pain of the leaving can tear us apart.

Still, if we want to avoid the suffering of leaving, we will never experience the joy of loving. And love is stronger than fear, life stronger than death, hope stronger than despair. We have to trust that the risk of loving is always worth taking.

When I embrace my own mortality, I must also affirm the inevitable departure of those I love. Knowing that those I love will not always be with me helps me also love them more meaningfully - aspiring for their greatest good, yet setting them free, not clinging and entrapping others.

As we prayed around the father, and as her friends and family rallied with the bereaved - there was an undeniable sense of solidarity. I was moved by the calm and loving sendoff. But I was also deeply moved by the way her student comrades had come alongside her for strength. Together, we were in essence saying to one other: We will walk this journey together. For a time, until one of us must go. But others will come along. And we will continue to journey. Till one by one with the Father we are gathered. We will walk this journey together.

May the love of God and the fellowship of friends enfold us all as we journey together.

The Great Little Adventure

2006-07-20T21:25:00.000+08:00

For those of you who think that this event was an accident, let me say we didn't strive to prevent it! You can't say we've been trying very hard but neither did we 'obstruct' its occurence in any way. (In fact our attempts have been so infrequent this could qualify as miraculous conception!) A friend pointed out doctors have a high rate of 'accidental' pregnancies - evidence either of our daftness at handling rubber or the unstoppability of the Genesis mandate embedded in man's tiniest of cells.

According to JUSTTHEFACTS, this is what baby should look like right now. This morning's ultrasound shows baby to be a whopping 1 inch tall.

We've always prayed that the good Lord's timing be at work in this. At least that's what I would say to my parents when they start asking things like when, and shouldn't you be seeing a fertility expert? 'God will give when the time is right,' is my standard interrogation-stopper.

Since the euphoria of that last post, which lasted a good 48 hrs, we sank into sullen denial punctuated with "Oh no... what have we got ourselves into?" and "This can't be undone, CAN it? There is no turning back IS there?" Suddenly our child-free happy holidays vanished as quickly as those double-bands appeared. That lasted about almost a week, until we learnt to take it one day at a time. We can't handle the overwhelming prospect of the BIG PICTURE of raising a kid. Being doctors, we are also constantly reminded of the innumerable risks pre- and peri- and post-natally. This is certainly ONE BIG ADVENTURE that requires every bit of courage and faith we can find.

The turning point from shell-shock to quiet and joyful acceptance was watching the baby's heart beat on the ultrasound screen. Baby was barely 6 weeks old then but seeing the heart flutter sent waves of emotion I cannot describe. A mixture of blessedness, gravity, vulnerability, awe, and helplesness. But waves of thrill isn't all the baby is sending. Waves of NAUSEA and FOOD-AVERSIONS are also flooding mother, and sometimes pours over to father!

This kid is one health freak - Joan can't touch anything with animal fat in it. Nothing fried. And nothing after 8pm. Guess who does the eating every time she discovers a new food taboo? I'm expecting to gain more weight than the gravid mother. Some experts theorise that morning sickness is Mother Nature's protective mechanism to keep the mother from ingesting foods with highest toxic potentials. I suspect as much too.

Nature has inbuilt mechanisms to protect the baby,show the mother who is boss and kill off the father early so he gets to enjoy his inheritance in college. Fine by me! As long as I don't have to be around to bail him out when he squanders it all!

The Double Band

2006-07-01T15:59:00.000+08:00

'Oh no..' came the groan from the bahtroom.

'What is it, are you positive?' I asked.

The door opened and she showed me the double-bands.

'Is this positive? Where's the box? Is 2 bands positive, or should there be a third band??'

She was shocked. I was stunned.

We held each other and contemplated the wonder - a new life within. But we are also reeling and numbed - by the implications this brings. Our life changes forever. We will go from honeymooners to haggard parents. There are numerous challenges ahead, every step one of courage and faith. Just the thought of the things that can go wrong from beginning to end - humbles us utterly. This is a journey of faith, no doubt.

According to JUST THE FACTS this is what baby should look like right now.

We celebrated at our usual Pizza Uno - myself with Bolognese, she the Tomato Soup and Caesar Salad with bacon bits. When the dishes arrived, she couldn't even take one bite of the bacon. Animal fat repulses her now - and the whole pile landed on my plate.

The bacon test was far more convincing than any urine test! God.. I am afraid, I don't know if I can do this, be a father. I'm afraid of all the things that can go wrong. This challenges my essential worldview - am I one cursed or am I one blessed?

Studying again!

2006-06-13T00:17:00.000+08:00

I've been doing a correspondence course with Moore's Theological College, working towards a Certificate in Theology. Yes, I'm crazy, if that's what you're thinking! But it's something I've always wanted to do - study the foundations of my faith in a serious and systematic way. In med school I totally envied people who had time to do that, even more those enrolled in seminaries. It's been a long time coming, but finally, after completing my Masters' and settling in KL, I can do so..

In spite of everyone telling me Moore's is as conservative as it gets, I enrolled. For two main reasons: 1) I grew up in a Brethren church - nothing can be more conservative than that!, I thought.. 2) I go to a church whose pastor was a Moore's product, and conducts a small group study for this course. Interaction and having a guru's brains to pick on are crucial, I felt, for a really gratifying study.

I believe we are in the most volatile of times in history, and religion has never been so brazenly brutalised and so violently defended at the same time. It's at such a crossroad of my own life and history that I find myself wanting to know what it is that I believe. What is it that is worth living and dying for..

Two weeks ago I sat for the exam on the book of Romans. It was an exhaustive 10 weeks preparation, and the final 5 days was mind-numbing as I swept through the themes of the letter, front-to-back and back-to-front. But it was worth it. Not only have I learnt things I have never realised was there, and had many of my presuppositions challenged and corrected,.. Not only do I know now how all the parts of the letter fit together and which parts can be used to address what issues.. More than that, I feel I have gained a whole new level of confidence and conviction about what I believe and whom I have believed. And that is priceless.

Though I feel like I've only scratched the surface, getting through the term has given me confidence in the Christian message. The sort of confidence that spurs one on to action. (Although the greatest action prescribed seems to be one of in-action, FAITH.) It has also given me a far greater love for the written Word like nothing else could have. Wrestling with the Word and its implications makes me love it more, and thirst even more.But I am warned that the written Word is not an end in itself - it points to and I must find it's journey's end in God Himself.

Da Vinci Yawn

2006-05-22T14:47:00.000+08:00

There are those who will decry the film as an affront to Christian belief, a tissue of lies and fabrications and a lurid exercise in cynical exploitation.
The more they fulminate, though, the more they play into Sony's hands, unwittingly promoting the very movie they would have banished from our screens.
Far better, perhaps, to use the film as a springboard for constructive debate on the nature of religion and the way the Christ story still resonates after two millennia.
It is, after all, just a movie that - like Life of Brian, The Last Temptation of Christ and Gibson's Passion before it - is only as significant as we choose to make it.

Well said! Neil Smith from the BBC

I'm not boycotting the movie. I just think my 10 bucks is better spent, Dan Brown doesn't deserve that much credit, and there's been so much coverage about it it's nauseating. People will believe what they want to believe. Beyond being faithful to history, having a healthy knowledge in it and a willingness to discuss it openly - there's really little point in getting up-in-arms. 'The more they fulminate,... the more they play into Sony's hands.' And Dan Brown's bank account, let's not forget.

The week that was

2006-05-22T13:50:00.000+08:00

I am still reeling from last week's whirlwind of activities. Thankful I made it, but off balance all the same. I am glad this week's calendar doesn't look too bad, but I must resist filling it up.

I am glad most of all for surviving a preaching engagement at Ampang Gospel yesterday, thanks to the prayerful encouragement from many dear friends. I felt I didn't connect much with the listeners and was uninspired - drained from the week's work - but accepted that as a good way to desensationalise the speaker, and let truth speak for itself.

Monday was a day of recuperating from the week-long trip to Sabah. Photos of Kinabalu mountain remind me of how beautiful Sabah is compared to dreary old KL - smog-choked and traffic-logged. The peaks, mosses, ferns, and orchids all make a playground of heavenly experiences. I can actually enjoy the summit a bit better now in the comfort of home, rather than dying from bitter-cold, hunger and exhaustion at the end of the climb. I've also reviewed some food spots from Sabah - the hedonist in me couldn't resist.

Most of last week was spent marking a dissertation I could barely understand, the technical difficulty was way above my ability! And completing my notes on the Book of Romans for an upcoming exam also took up a lot of time. Which left me only nights to work on the sermon.

I've decided to backtrack my Bible reading program to keep in date with the McCheyne calendar in real time. Hope I can keep it up because honestly it's the only thing keeping me going from day to day right now.

Down from the Rock

2006-05-19T17:36:00.000+08:00

I knew I would never have the time to sit and muse about our trip up Old Kinabalu, mountain of the dead (which is what Aki Nabalu means in Kadazan, I am made to understand.) So, I'm glad I had some feelings scribbled down on my Palm - this I did when we were recuperating in the hotel room, crippled, unable to move an inch without excruciating pain.

06-5-11 Mt Kinabalu
The moment is etched upon the fabric of my being. Putting one foot ahead of the other in ever increasing agony. Every step, searing pain. But I was not alone, not without encouragement. Sweeping across the sky and scape, I could not take it all in. The magnificence and magnitude. The unencompassable vastness. And I the lone, empty-handed soul, in trepidation enter the throne room.

A million stars watch down on me, blinking in question, Why are you here? What do you seek? A few bright ones whisper, Many have come this way but few have found it.

Towering pinnacles silhoutted against pale moonlight, stand guard all around, fixing their cold, intent gaze on the weary wanderer. What brings you into the Presence? You are on holy ground. The ground I tread upon is a royal granite carved over 35000 years of slow glacier motion, the art of etchings and precise bands tell of history undecipherable even by the wisest of men. The ancient past of this kingdom is encoded on these stones.

A banner of blurry white stretches from east to west. It has been called The Milky Way by mortals past. A banner lifted high for us to gaze into the vastness of the kingdom. Why have I come? I do not know. What was I seeking? I did not prepare my heart.

I came a-wandering, carelessly tripping into the throne room of the highest. Mindlessly pressing towards a precipice they call the Low's peak. Foolishly following other climbers making their way to the point of nothing. The highest point of Southeast Asia! We cry. The sun rises from the east, black turns to gold! We gasp. Bypassing the Time and the Place.

In that very instant I lost it. I had the chance. Though by sheer accident and no purpose on my part I stumbled upon the Holy Place, I paid no heed to the Call. Obsessed with the walking and the reaching I was too blind to see and hear when the very Universe opened a portal. That all may go in and find.

I shall return. Mine eyes have been opened. A fool I will be no more. I shall return a more worthy pilgrim. I will silently revere till that day, and every day shall be that day. I will listen for the distant cry - from the farthest reaches of the sky and depths of the ground I stand. I will be holy as you are holy.

The LCC-T

2006-05-02T13:53:00.000+08:00

Air Asia is always a wonder to watch. A company that started modest with a few leased aircrafts, it is near billion-dollar industry a year with a fleet sprawled all over Asia to match. Even when the flailing giants boot them into the wilderness, they sprout up again and come up with the... LCCT!

I took the Skybus there on Friday, and arrived at a slightly ware-house looking place, reminiscent of Carrefour and TESCO outlets.

Brightly lit, bustling with activity and a couple of food outlets to keep you occupied.

Surprisingly crowded check-in counters, but mostly the Indonesia bound flights.

And a nice walk on the tarmac, like the good old Subang days.

Overall a nice experience for the budget traveler.

Works of art - our rivers

2006-05-02T13:28:00.000+08:00

Who says our rivers aren't beautiful?

Klang river running under the Titiwangsa LRT station

Take a look at the Klang River today. Running right through the city, what a beautiful sight it is to behold! A swirling mix of ochre and vile black, intertwining and interfacing on a canvas of water. You have to admire the artistic talent of refuse dumpers and reckless effluent dischargers.

While it was heartening to hear of tough action planned for miscreants, this sort of coloring of our waters go on every day, right under our noses in the heart of the city.

The thing to do is to get in touch with the Department of Environment or post a pix to your local paper. We are a long way from crystal clear, blue waters but if we don't something about it now, they are soon going to be pitch black.

The Da Vinci Craze

2006-04-27T19:34:00.000+08:00

I read it for no other reason except that it is going to explode on the silver screen this May. I didn't want to be ignorant. The fact that the Da Vinci Code has generated so much of interest on both sides of Mary Madgalene alone repels me. How can one silly myth cause so much glib fanaticism on one hand and reactive defensiveness on the other? (To be fair, I have read the 'Holy Blood, Holy Grail', which in part is the basis for the newer Da Vinci Code.)

When I did pick up the book, I found myself instantly collar-grabbed into a pretty well-woven story of religious mysticism, conspiracy, historical intrigue and anagrams, all tied to a cord of murder and the struggle to vindicate a lost cause and a dead man. It was an un-put-downable. And the more I read, the more I wondered, what the heck is all the fuss about? This is just fiction. Irreverent, but fiction all the same. Until I came to (not unexpectedly) the great revelation by Leigh Teabing of the great conspiracy of the Church - a conspiracy as it were to slay the sacred feminine and glorify the masculine, deify a mere man countless millions now worship, doctor documents and secure its political campaign with blood baths and witch hunts.

It wouldn't have been more than a wince in the side were it not for the author's claims that documents and archeological evidences cited in the book were accurate. And I've seen him come on TV to say he started out trying to disprove it all and ended up the believer. The sales gimmick is as laughable as some self-contradicting inventions of the author paraded as history. But not everything in the book could be waved away with simple logic. It was indeed disconcerting to have it suggested, with claims of historical fact I could not disprove, that my faith was baseless, or worse - built on mere spinmeistering.

But what I found TRULY disturbing and reason to get very upset indeed was not that it exposed any conspiracy of the early Church. It was not the Church that was on the stand, or the Council of Nicene that was being indicted. No! The joke is on us! The great gag is on every believing Christian who can't see through the web of deceit for sheer lack of knowledge. Myself included. ON THE COUNTS OF BLATANT IGNORANCE AND UTTER DISREGARD FOR THE HISTORICAL ROOTS OF YOUR FAITH, DAN BROWN AND THE PEOPLE FIND YOU GUILTY AS CHARGED. we are in the docks, and our brazen neglect of self-education on matters as crucial as the tenets of our own professed faith should draw tears.

Every morning on my walk to the train station, I see little children in songkoks and green sampings hop onto their kereta sapu to the nearest religious school. Some of these Islamic kindergartens are not cheap and parents pay for the best religious education money can buy. Outside of regular school time. It speaks volumes of the value Muslims place on knowing the truths that undergird ther lives.

I know my wake up call has come. Whatever his intention, Dan Brown's own 'disclaimer statement' rings true: '“My hope for The Da Vinci Code was, in addition to entertaining people, that it might serve as an open door for readers to begin their own explorations and rekindle their interest in topics of faith.” That, I hope it has done and makes for a great opportunity for Christians to explore the roots and facts of their own faith.

A Malaysian forum on the topic is coming up this Thursday in PJ.

Resources abound on the Internet to start off your research:
Bible.org
Da Vinci Quest
Challenging Da Vinci

Go Public!

2006-03-18T23:53:00.000+08:00

I am all for the switch from petrol-guzzling automobile travel to public transport. My wife and I
promised ourselves we would leave our car at home and become train-riders if the fuel price were to go up again. It has, and we have ditched our car. Though there are a 100 reasons discouraging the use of public transport in Kuala Lumpur, I can still think of a few good reasons to give it a try and make it work.

1- Save money. At nearly 25 cents per kilometre of car travel (working at 8km/L fuel consumption) the savings are considerable if you are a heavy commuter. With LRT season passes that cover both Putra & Star lines, and RM2/day City Shuttle buses, I'm saving at least RM50 a month. And I'm not even counting savings from parking
at malls.
2- Save time. It took a bullock cart 1 hour to get from Kg Baru to Masjid Jamek in the old days. 100 years of progress later, it takes the same time. Go figure. Traffic jams are a complete waste of time. There is a profound pleasure in gloating over cars stuck in jams as you whiz by in your high speed train.
3- Get more sleep. If you can get onto a train or bus early enough, you can actually catch a few extra winks. If you are desperate for a sit-down and shut-eye, take the train to the terminal where the carriage empties, and come back again in your seat of choice.
4- Get fit. With our badly connected public transport system, much of the commuting is by foot between stations and stops. Walk fast enough and you can get a pretty good workout. A 70kg adult can burn 116 calories by walking 30 minutes at a speed of 3mph. Keeping a high heart rate during the walk will also improve your cardiovascular fitness.

5- Finish a book. Trains are an ideal place to read. It's quiet, well air-conditioned, and even standing with a hand on the rail, you can finish a book with
one hand!
6- De-stress. The biggest frustration of driving in KL is not so much the petrol cost, but the traffic jams. To sit in a gridlock, seeing red (bumper lights) for
hours on end does nothing for my blood pressure. I can imagine years of my lifespan shaved off for every hour I spend in jams.
7- Save the environment. Why burn good cash on polluting the environment? Our carrying capacity for pollutant is already maxed out. The slightest puff of
smoke from a forest fire will tip us into a blinding haze. Imagine the amount of emissions reduced by leaving your car at home to be used only for long distance trips or short family outings.
8- See the city. A season pass pays for unlimited travel. Why use it only for getting to work? See the city! Go on a walkabout of Dataran Merdeka or Petaling
Street on weekends, or hit the malls. Watch your spending though - otherwise whatever you save on petrol might just be burnt on shopping.

Inspired... by food

2006-03-12T14:15:00.000+08:00

I haven't done this in some time, posting the latest salivary gland pumping concoction in the culinary world of our homeland. So today, I decide to pull out some choice pix of the latest appetite stimulant, or diet-program killer whichever way you like to look at it.

Though not really Malaysian cuisine, but for sheer joy-to-taste we are proud to have them in our land.

Petaling street offers some great photo ops, so a vertiginous shot of chestnuts went into my still-in-infancy TTL gallery.

Well, that's my weekend blogging quota fulfilled. In the process I realised I write in record time when I'm intensely inspired.. And nothing quite inspires like good food. So, the next time you need creative, and other juices to flow, go get a bite!

When will I stop?

2006-03-10T18:28:00.001+08:00

It's funny, how when I'm busiest and accomplishing the most that I feel that I've been ineffective and need to do more. Is this some kind of death wish? Why does my mind conspire against me to burn a few more holes in my stomach and drive me to my grave prematurely?

I've read about it - it's called adrenaline addiction. The more thrills you get out of work, the more you crave it. And the more burnt out you are, the more you look for it to prevent the impending blues. Withdrawal from work is actually difficult because it requires I say NO to the seductive attraction of work and insist that I get the detoxifying rest I need.

This week has seen two busy and overbooked clinics, two lengthy student encounters over lectures and bedside teaching. Two powerful meetings with senior professors, both giving me great encouragement and insights into the world of research. I've been reading at least 4 books concurrently. One massive literature review on cancer markers left me completely spent but deeply satisfied.

Amidst all that I also met my real estate agent and placed a booking fee for a home we've been eyeing, drafted the newsletter for the Malaysian Society of Otorhinolaryngologists, AND writeup an interview for Kairos Research Centre.

Yes, I'm reeling. And it's not even over. I meet the printers this evening, and tomorrow GCF is having a dialog on "Dealing With Difficult People At Work." Hah.

I'm glad therefore for short moments and places that I can use to stop and get reoriented. Like the little corner Starbucks in KL Sentral, tucked away, with trains whizzing by. (Yes, you can see I was poring over my clinical photographs at the time...)

Or in the privacy of my own office, open the Bible and catch up on some reading.

This weekend, I must stop. Really stop, declare a moratorium on all forms of work. And 'Be still once more my soul, for the Lord your God has been good.' (Psalm 116:7).

Learning Chinese the Geek Way

2006-03-09T18:44:00.000+08:00

Did you hate your POL classes in school? Did you get sent to a Chinese temple for language tuition as a kid? Well I did, and have deep emotional scars to show for it. But, I still can't speak my own mother tongue if my life depended on it.

But all that is going to change! Well, at least it potentially and theoretically CAN change... And here's how (I propose, in theory) it can be done: THE GEEK WAY.

1) Pick a Chinese website you would like to read: like a newspaper, an interlinear Bible or the Dao De Ching for high show-off factor.

2) Get it translated using Babelfish or a Chinese-English Dictionary

3) And get it read ALOUD using YELLOWBRIDGE TALKER

Let me give you an example.

This is a screenshot of Nanyang Siang Pau in Chinese:

This is Nanyang translated into English:

After you've had a ROTFLOL session reading the direct translation, try the Yellow Bridge dictionary.

This is the headline translated en bloc, word by word, into English on Yellow Bridge's Chinese-English dictionary.

And if you've got Yellow-Bridge Talker installed, you can have the text read aloud to you simply by right-clicking your selection and selecting "Pronounce Text" or clicking the yellow speech baloon on the Dictionary page!

Is there anything you've been dying to say in Chinese - like, say, cheaper please I have no money, or please cook my chow mein really really spicy? Well, key it into the YB Dictionary, and have it read OUT LOUD back to you. My Chinese-proficient dad vouches for its accuracy and high standard of Chinese.

Also available on Yellow-Bridge is the cool Flashcards method of learning a word a day, and a Decomposition Explorer interwoven into the dictionary. No, the Decomposition Explorer is not some kind of post-mortem surgical technique. It is in fact a breakdown of each component in a chinese character complete with its individual meaning.

For instance, did you know that the word WORRY in Chinese, consists of two parts - which could mean to have strings attached to your mind, or to conspire against the soul? Now, which Chinese dictionary or teacher, for that matter, will give you that?! And it certainly makes learning impossible Chinese squiggles a lot more fun, meaningful and easy to remember.

Hah.. talk about easy and high geek appeal!! No more embarassing dictation sessions, no fierce, hefty POL teacher with the swishing cane, and no more messy brush and ink in Chinese temple classes!!

The Radiant Newly Weds

2006-03-05T14:59:00.000+08:00

"It gives me great pleasure to present to you,.. Dr. and Dr. (Mrs.) Jeffry Paul Wong!!" Quite a mouthful? What is it with these labels anyway? I felt sorry for the officiant-pastor. But with the billowing sea breeze, grass beneath your feet, garden ambience of E&O Penang,.. nothing could've spoilt the moment.

Not bad, Jeff & Doris. Still able to manage some genuine smiles and laughs after a whole day of plastic grins posing for an unending stream of pictures. Bet you never, ever, want to do this again! Talk about deterrents to polygamy.

We do wish you a life time of joy and laughter.

Awwww... pucker up... Enjoy the moment. EOD calls ahead is no way to spend your post-nuptial week. Unfortunately, that's life for us civil servants. Onward ho!

More photos of the wedding here!

The Weekend That Was

2006-03-05T14:45:00.000+08:00

Attended good friends' - Jeff & Doris' - wedding in Penang. One of those dreamy, by-the-sea garden weddings that make every girl burst in romanticistic elation. Doris was our maid-of-honor in our own walk down the aisle two and half years ago. Notice the woman in red by the bride? No prizes for guessing who.

Old friends, Angie - now in Likas, Helin - Bruneian in Belukas spending her evenings angling by the river, Tammy - houseman working her butt off, Sudoku winner, and USM medic gold-medalist,... and my wife (you didn't know?!).

An entire convoy of big bikes appeared out of nowhere and accompanied us for a good half hour. It was interesting to watch their routine, the head biker, the tail man keeping watch for stragglers, the hand signals, and the accompanying support car all making a monster team.

Joan couldn't resist trailing this biker. What do you call a bike with tall handles like that anyway?

Another team goes!

2006-02-04T21:33:00.000+08:00

Another team has gone.

This time, with some dear friends of ours in that team.

We had seen them from the signing up, briefings, talked them through their fears and doubts and prayed with them. Today, seeing them raring to go at the airport was wonderful.

And heartbreaking.

Partly because we are not going. Partly because we're going to miss them. It was hard to do the necessary distancing and allow the new team to catch their own wind.

Back home, we think of the adventure they will have, the children they will bless - and we're happy. Our prayers go with them.

Critical conditions in Pakistan

2006-01-03T11:03:00.000+08:00

The situation has turned critical for quake-hit victims in Pakistan in the last week.

United Nations Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs
reports that thick snow is falling, roads are cut off, children are dying,
and tents are no longer adequate. It seems like a panic effort to
bring in tin sheets are now futile.

Please keep praying for the people and aid workers, and if you or
anyone you know might be able to volunteer for a short trip please
contact CREST or myself. There are several tonnes of winter clothing
and insulation material here in KL waiting to be dispatched, and CREST
badly needs a medic to go with them to access the villages.

People I Never Want To Forget

2006-01-02T15:38:00.000+08:00

There are people we've met in Pakistan we will never want to forget.

Dr. Reginald

Medical director and builder of the new Pennel Memorial Christian Hospital, is a man of finest character. He is a super-surgeon (does a vaginal hysterectomy and open cholecystectomy in 1/2 hr each) and perfect gentleman. An all-rounder consultant (who single-handedly manages all the patients in his wards and OPD) and a man of discipline. A man of faith and prayer. Having left a lucrative private practive in Hyderabad to restart the defunct 100yr-old mission hospital in Bannu, he exemplifies how healthcare is mission at its best. He shows what healing is in the holistic sense - body, soul and spirit.

Just when we thought the Albert Schweitzers and Mother Teresas have left us forever, we meet in person, hidden in the Afghan frontiers, this living legend carrying on the legacy left behind by Theodore Pennell a 100 years ago. We've been immensely inspired and touched by this man.

The People of Bannu, Battal and Battgram

We have never experienced being denied education or health care for lack of money. Much less food or shelter. Having never tasted real want, I am unable to respond when I see such hardcore poverty. Perhaps I fear because I am myself poor. Without our things and achievements, we are in essence bereft. If I can learn to embrace the 'poverty' within, I may be able to embrace the poverty of others more readily. And then maybe I can learn the joy and simplicity of the have-nots; for whom all of life is a gift to be received and to be given.

Holding a light

2006-01-01T09:12:00.000+08:00

My wife and I were at the vigil on 30th night. It’s a simple and quiet affair – no chanting, shouting, picket boards, etc. Police watching from a distance did not question or harass us.

The late Moorthy incident was simply something I couldn’t brush aside with a ‘not my problem’ attitude. Though a quiet gathering like this may not seem to be achieving much, it certainly makes a statement that as Malaysians we will not let this matter slide like we have many other issues in the past. Honestly, we have ourselves (partly) to blame that our country is where it is and where it is going.

The vigil was off yesterday night to preempt any violence with the onloooking Dataran Merdeka revelers, but they start again tonight at 8pm. It goes on only for half an hour.

Personally, being there, flickering light in hand and standing opposite the ‘Muzium Sejarah Negara’ with Hindhus and Buddhists made me feel like a little part of history. While I mourn deeply the loss and injustice suffered by Kaliammal (the wife) and family, I am thankful for this wake up call for everyone on both sides of the equation.

Let’s continue to pray for the family, for our brave representatives (kudos Rev. Wong KK), and for the government to have the guts to make the necessary changes. If you feel strongly about this issue, and sitting at home makes you feel like just one of the indifferent masses, take a train to Masjid Jamek and make your way to the High Court. You will be given a candle and it will be a half hour of silence and prayer you will enjoy – I assure you your candle won’t be the only thing burning at the end of the night.

My Grown Up Christmas Wish

2005-12-24T01:56:00.000+08:00

It's impossible to sing, 'Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow..' this season. Not after what we've seen in the mountains. Not when sheets of ice threaten to engulf helpless children in the mountains of Kashmir. It's hard to celebrate. 'Tis the season to be jolly has the emptiest ring about it. And there is no way I'm going to be decking the halls with boughs of holly.

Yet I know that the men, women and children I've seen and touched are the very reason for Christmas. And in a mysterious way I've had a glimpse of what the real spirit of Christmas should mean - of Jesus leaving His glory to walk among the broken, the poor, the downtrodden, and the sick.

Christmas will never be the same for me again.

And so when I hear a beautiful song like this (recently repopularised by Michael Buble and Kelly Clarkson):

So here's my lifelong wish
My grown up Christmas List
Not for myself
But for a world in need
No more lives torn apart
That wars will never start
And time will heal our hearts
Every man will have a friend
That right will always win
And love will never end
This is my grown up Christmas List

I say a quiet Amen, come Lord Jesus. Come again and be born in our lives, our world. A world that knows you not. Come, Lord Jesus.

The Call of the Day

2005-12-17T15:59:00.000+08:00

Jean Vanier writes: 'men and women of today,.. turn away from materialistic egotism, ..burn with new hearts and new spirits - hearts of flesh and spirits of fire. There must be a more authentic receptivity, radical poverty, greater hope and audacity, a keener thirst for truth and justice.

I need to hear words like these every day. I need to find people of like mind. Lest I die a slow spiritual death, choked by materialism, greed, and ambition. I must learn to embrace weakness and poverty - in myself and in others.

The 'mythos' of my middle-age must be Christ the Suffering Servant. To be set free through a life of sacrifice and servanthood.

Hit the ground running

2005-12-14T22:40:00.000+08:00

I've hit the ground running. A backlog of patients in the clinic, cases in OR, and an overflowing mailbox greets me. There is no time to process and to respond to the experiences. Only mustering enough energy to survive this week.

Still there is this all-consuming fear: Will I lose the passion and purpose I felt in Pakistan? Will my heart grow cold? Will I slip back into a self-serving, indifferent life?

This I do. I pray. I pray for a sense of mission and purpose in every day of my work. In every patient I see. That I go with a full sense of His Presence.

And the most amazing thing happened today - I received a research grant from MAKNA for 30K. Not exactly the multi-million dollar priority grants, but enough for me to do my next cancer project. Talk about an immediate answer to my question, 'What next, God?'

Where do I go from here?

2005-12-11T21:26:00.000+08:00

Having returned from the wildest 2-week adventure of my life. Having seen and done things I would never have dreamt of (and it does seem like all a dream.) I will never look at the world and life the same again. The changes are irreversible. And nothing can take that away from me.

My big question in the post-mission period is: Where do I go from here? There is no turning back is there?

I know this is the adrenaline speaking, shouting, WHAT'S NEXT?! I know I've not even begun to unwind and process the experiences.

But I also know I'll be lying awake at night wondering about the children in the mountains and the workers in Bannu. And I know I never want to be a prisoner of capitalist consumerism and the trap of materialism again. The greatest evil of modern life is that self-serving, indulgent, blind pursuit of wealth that numbs the heart and deadens the soul.

Where do I go from here?

Pakistan Mission Log Index

2005-12-10T23:39:00.000+08:00

The Pakistan Mission Log

Day 1 - Islamabad
Day 2 - Bannu
Day 3 - Bannu
Day 4 - Bannu
Day 5 - Bannu
Day 6 - Bannu
Day 7 - Balakot
Day 9 - Amlok Bande
Day 10 - Harori Bala
Day 11 - Nogram
Day 12 - Sharka Bala
Closure

Pakistan last days

2005-12-10T19:57:00.000+08:00

Salam. Kya Hal He?

I am writing from the comfort of home. There wasn’t any time at all in the last 2 days to sit and write.

We did our last village trip on Thursday, going to Battal town itself. The destruction there was massive. I think I mentioned before that we saw innumerable houses on all the slopes and up to as far as the eye can see up the peaks. And many of them are either flattened are half rubble. The place we setup clinic was one such home whose wall had fallen off. I ran my ‘open concept clinic’ with a chilly draft blowing in! Imagine the countless homeless, already living in sub-zero temperatures now. Many have tents but not all have insulation sheets (the blue sheets you see on some of the tents).

I mustered the courage to pray for a few patients on that last day, and am I glad I did. The people are entirely open to prayer and will say ‘Amin’ with us at the end. And I’ve not felt God's presence in praying for a sick person so strongly like I did up there.

We were all euphoric at the end of that day, and drove back with an overflowing sense of joy and relief, mixed with some sadness for leaving the people behind us. But we remember that the little we’ve done, though it feels like salt in the sea, were our 2 loaves and fishes for God to use. I spent the entire night going through all our medications, classifiying them, boxing them up for the next team to use.

Friday morning we slept in late. We could breathe again and not worry about getting enough sleep, buying drugs, and getting out in time to make it to the mountains and back by nightfall. It was a much needed time for us all to relax and share our stories. Bonds that have formed between team members, Malaysian, Pakistani, British and African are deep and forever. Joan and I both reflected on how we’ve left halve our hearts in Pakistan, and we’ll never be the same again after what we’ve seen and done. We got to see a bit of Abbottabad town and did some shopping. I got a whole bag of every variety of tea from Afghanistan to Kashmir, so anyone who comes visit us can have a cup or even a bag of tea while stocks last.

We reached the airport on time and found the bag we had lost on the first day at Karachi. This time, we got hell in the airports (Islamabad and Karachi.) Two of our team members’ confirmation had mysteriously ‘disappeared’ and they had to be put on standby! We were given the runaround all over the airport for a mistake of their ticketing office’s. Then again and again we were harassed by airport officials and security, wanting to go through our things, body search us, detain us at security posts, etc. It was highly frustrating and disappointing. Even when we produced embassy letters and credentials, they continued to harass us – where are your names on the letter?, where is your official tag? It was a sad day for Pakistan. Then our flight was delayed another two hours. We took off at about 130am (430am Malaysian.)

Thank God though the 4-seater middle aisle seats were mostly empty and we each grabbed a row each to sleep. I took some time to finish my reports and reflections from Islamabad to Karachi, and slept all the way back from Karachi to KL. All my suppressed anxiety about getting home surfaced in nightmares! In one – I dreamt we landed in a dark, musty place, and when I left the airport, there was a solitary neon sign that read – ‘Abbotabad’. I woke up in cold sweat. The second – again, we arrived in strange airport, though in day time, with brick and clay shops. And then a bearded man and scarved woman approaches me and asks ‘Do you want chay (tea)?’. I almost died.

What a relief it was for us to reach KLIA. I could’ve kissed the ground we were walking on. Joan meeting us at the airport was a sight for sore eyes. And she brought me coffee! I am home.

Our hearts and minds have been stretched beyond our wildest imagination. We have been inspired, moved and humbled by the love, hospitality and passion of people we have met there. We have learnt and been blessed far more than we have ever given. We will never see life the same way again. We pray this small step we’ve made is a first in a new direction that God wants to take us on our spiritual journey, and there is no looking back.

To anyone reading this and wondering, ‘I wish I could do something like that’, I have to say – you can, and you should. There is no regretting it. But when the time comes when you just ‘have to do it’, you will know. And if you wonder if you have what it takes, I must absolutely say, no, none of us do, and yes, what you are is what God will use. It is our inadequacy that makes us instruments for God’s grace and power to shine through.

Thank you all for following us on this journey. For praying for us so faithfully. We would never have survived the many dangers, trials and challenges without you.

Please keep praying for the peoples and volunteers in Pakistan. They are still homeless and cold. The race against time is getting closer and workers are still breaking their backs out there on the treacherous slopes. Every little bit we can do will count. I will update you in time on how you can help.

Kuthan Apko Berkat De (God Bless You).

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Pakistan Day 12

2005-12-07T19:32:00.000+08:00

Today was the 2nd last village trip and day 12 of my trip to Pakistan.
To be honest, I'm quite homesick and missing Char Kuay Teow, Bak Kut Teh and Hokkien Mee. Even a bowl of maggi mee would be fantastic right now. One more Naan and I'm going to crack up. Ok.. just some griping.

We were at Sharka Bala village today, again nearby Battal. I saw another 70+ patients and did quite a bit of deworming.

I've been reflecting on lessons learnt on this trip.

One thing that's helped much was learning the language. We got ourselves 'The Rough Guide to Hindi and Urdu' and learnt some key phrases on the flight here. Even with translators, when we ask the questions ourselves, it brings you a lot closer to the people.

I've learnt to say:

'Salam' - Hello
'Kya Hal He' - How do you do?
'Kya Taklife?' - What is your problem?
'Umer?' - Age?
'Dard?' (pointing to part of body) - Pain?
'Pani?' (pointing) - Discharge?
'Shukriya' - Thank you
'Kudhan apko berkat de' - God bless you

The most hilarious thing happened on our 2nd trip out. I started asking the patient questions in Urdu, and my translator, by reflex, translated into English for me! I asked, 'Umer?' and he asked the patient, 'How old are you?' I burst out laughing and almost fell off my chair. Today, I could almost go on seeing patients without my translator. Funniest thing was I started writing my notes in Urdu! I wrote for one patient - c/o - cough, nazlak, bukhare...... oops

Our 8-seater vehicle has been dubbed 'Chariot of God'. If you've seen the terrain here you'll understand. Our van has to climb slopes and terraces you would never have believed could be negotiated by any 4 wheeled vehicle. Two men will run out ahead of the vehicle, throwing off rocks and signaling to the driver to avoid holes, while two others hang on to the back of the vehicle to balance the weight and lay rocks behind the wheel whenever it gets stuck. This is a mountain cross-country in extremis.

We've met many lovely and friendly people here. People on the street will stare at us suspiciously until we smile or say 'Salam' to them. Invariably smiles break out and people will shake our hands and hug us in receptivity. They are thrilled that we have come from Malaysia. I have received many gifts from sundry store keepers - matches, razor blades - refusing to be paid. Chay (milk-tea) is standard hospitality and is hard to refuse. The people feel very rejected when you say no, I've eaten.

Children here are absolutely adorable, green-eyed, red-cheeks, and bubbling with excitement. The third village we visited had been entered before by another medical team. Which was followed by tent distribution work, and subsequently children's ministry. So when we were there, we were pleasantly surprised when the kids ran out with our van and started singing Sunday School songs... something about "Jonah, Jonah, in the belly of the fish..."

God has been absoulutely faithful in opening the way for us to enter villages, taking care of our travels and vehicle, and our health and well-being throughout. Thank you again for your prayers and I look forward to come home and talking to you with the photos on my cam.

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Pakistan Day 11

2005-12-06T19:27:00.000+08:00

Today's village trip was extremely challenging. A small place near Battal, (Nogram) sited on a high terrace, the trail into the village was menacing and impossible to drive through but somehow, with some amazing skill on the driver's part, guidance from our guys, and a lot of pushing and laying of rocks in the right places we managed to get in.

We worked in very cramped quarters, again the women's team in a tent, and myself on a chair & table next to some donkeys! Saw 70 patients quickly and then made a hike up the mountain to see a debilitated patient trapped at the peak. This was the most challenging house-call I've ever made! Me and my translator (boh of us rather hefty, and wheezing up) trekked some 20 minutes up steep slopes until the clinic-tent was a blue spot in the landscape. The ruins that greeted us there was also humbling.

We've become quite efficient at what we do and managed to clear the village sick in three hours, making it back to Abottabad early this time. Thank God.

Hope to rest well tonight.

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Pakistan Day 10

2005-12-05T19:19:00.000+08:00

We travelled some 3 hours to a village called Harori Bala by the Battal river. The terrain was challenging but cleverly maneuvred by our driver Sober.

The drive is always punctuated by torn houses and rubble that indicate what were once homes. I learnt that 50% of the homes have been destroyed completely - mostly mud huts - and the ones we see are the stone/brick ones that have survived. Only tents remain as protection against the winter. Temperatures are sub-zero here at night.

With a little more experience, we were faster in setting up. Quickly we set apart one tent for the women - seen by Ruth (a midwife from UK) and Faith (from Nigeria). I on the other hand saw all the men and some children at my 'clinic' - one table in the open air. Warmed by the noonday sun, the icy cold winds weren't that bad. As we worked, Wolf choppers would fly by ever so often, as eagles also circled above.

I saw some 66 patients while the other team saw 30+. OPD and Sarawak longhouse experience is proving useful here! This village seemed to have a little better standards of hygiene and sanitation. But as you can see from some of the photos - skin infections are bad. One infant I saw was bloated with worms, bleeding per rectally and eating soil.

After the long day's work, we were treated to some late lunch in a home that had a fireplace. We made good friends, gave thanks for our food and ate. Subsequently the men performed their Asar prayers just next to us.

Returning to Abottabad at about 8pm, we hastily headed for the local pharmacies to stock up for the next few days. I almost froze in the night chill.

To be honest, the first village trip was hard for me as I was very tired and nauseous from the journey. The second day was better since I ate less in the morning, slept on the way up, and spent much time meditating on the Scripture: 'Even though the mountains be removed and the hills be shaken, my covenant peace will no be removed and my unfailing love will not be shaken'. It was a promise both for the people who have literally seen mountains shake and hills stripped, as well as source of strength for me. Without the Lord's love, we have no love to give.

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