hello hellooo, this is kafka. quaintly is away saving the world so i get to sit in this chair and tell my stories :) i spent last christmas break exactly the way i wanted – lounging in the pleasantly warm winter of my surrogate hood in the upper west side with her. we went to the movies, shopped for presents and caught up with old friends. we even got a small, spriggy christmas tree, a charlie brown kind which i dubbed ‘the little tree that could’. o tannenbaum, did we put the nicest ornaments on you: toy soldiers, shining star and all! but the cold did get to us eventually and so a few weeks ago, we decided to exchange a temperamental heater for a short trip down south to sunny New Orleans. quaintly likes to call it N’awlins, twanging the Cajun accent considerably better than i can whenever we talk to the locals. and they were some of the nicest, friendliest people we’ve met, serving us sweet moonshine whiskey and sharing their favourite food haunts so generously. which is how we found ourselves ooh-ing and aah-ing to the best soul-soothing gumbo, shrimp and grits, and batter fried alligator the city had to offer. quaintly will probably beat me with a stick for doing so little justice to the gorgeous food we had, so i’ll leave it to her to say more next time (plus, she has all our pictures!). but in between shopping for antiques and stumbling into labyrinthine cemeteries, it was a much deserved holiday with my number one travel person.

like almost everyone, i like to travel. i know it’s probably an accessible truism in this modern age of budget airlines and online travel forums, but it’s always a pleasure to chuck my stuff into a bag and just pour out into the world. some of my fonder memories have been in places like the sleepy seaside town of Montauk and the mountaintop Incan ruins of Machu Picchu. i have a soft spot for sunrises (as i do for lazy picnics and urban parks), and watching the sun rise over the great Atlantic or the lost city of the Incas, i’m reminded of what i cherish most about my travels: having the luxury of time to muse. there’s just something about being transplanted to a new place amongst new people. without much coaxing, my mind turns to conjuring up all manner of speculations from the banal to the fantastic. why does a city allow garbage to pile up in the piazzas? why does fish cost so much when we’re surrounded by the Mediterranean? and mainly for quaintly’s benefit, i sometimes frame my musings in catchy jingle and rhyme. while she never fails to give me her sweetest layan face, her probing questions such as the one on the existential lament of my turnip song tell me that she secretly enjoys it. and i secretly quite enjoy her ripostes to my endless hypotheticals too. ultimately, it doesn’t matter what we do or where we go; boarding a plane with quaintly is a special kind of adventure that i hold close to my heart for the discoveries, inane jokes and moments that sneak up from behind me and change my life. when she gets back from saving the world, i’ll have to remember to tell her how easy she’s made all this for me. and then maybe we’ll go looking for more gumbo.

when i was in standard one, my grandmother showed up outside my classroom at school, a little nervous and jittery, and asked to speak to me. it was a strange obtrusion, but i was quite pleased to see her nevertheless, so i hopped out of my seat very quickly and scurried to the door in excitement. she told me to bring out my schoolbag, and when i did she quickly opened it, revealing thick stacks of foreign currency in the front compartment of my bag. i had no idea that there was any money in my bag, or why she put it there that morning when she was packing my peanut butter sandwich lunch for me, but she seemed relieved that there was even any money there at all.

when i went home after school, i found out that the money belonged to my dad, and the news around the house was that i had stolen the money. no one ever yelled at me (i think they thought i saw some money and just grabbed it without much thought) so i wasn’t too perturbed. i knew it was my grandmother who had put the money in my backpack, because she does things like that sometimes, putting things where they don’t belong or forgetting what she had just said a few minutes ago. i wondered for a brief moment if she had defended me or if she had allowed everyone to believe i had taken the money… but then i realized i didn’t care either way. there are these people that we love, and sometimes they do very strange things, but you love them anyway because you know they are good people.

a year later i got in trouble with my dad over some chinese traditions (he is quite superstitious) and he had started to cane me. my brothers are the type who run helter skelter around the house when caned, but for some reason i never knew i was allowed to do that, and so i’d sit and grab at my legs, howling like a dog while being caned. at some point, as she always does, my grandmother tried to stop him, but she moved a little too slowly and got slashed by the rattan cane on her arm. she has this condition where she has very thin blood viscosity, and bruises and bleeds easily, this occasion being no different — and the night was punctuated with a long bloody gash on her right arm. later that night (after she made us some hot milo) we sat in bed putting talcum powder on each other’s wounds and talking until we fell asleep.

i’m missing my grandmother a lot tonight. it’s about 5pm in KL now so she’ll be just about getting ready to have dinner – this disgusting porridge blended with carrots that smells absolutely foul but is supposed to be good for her. i haven’t had a real conversation with her since i was 13 and even those were disconnected smatterings of sounds and words. in this world very few people can be that proverbial friend who sits with us on a swing, saying nothing, and leave us feeling like it was the best conversation we’ve ever had. my grandmother is one of those people for me. whenever i have the opportunity to go home for breaks over the school year, i like to lie in bed with her and just sleep. she pulls my hair sometimes to wake me up but those are still the deepest sleeps that i will get to have for a long time.

some pictures of old people, taken while i was working in hong kong this summer:

i was feeling a little nostalgic today, so i started rummaging through some of my photos from travels past. then i realized that i’d actually marked some photos to blog about, but had eventually just forgotten about them altogether. so here are the last of some istanbul pictures. at some point, if my memory still serves me, hopefully i’ll get around to putting up photos from paris a year ago, and barcelona from two years back, along with some small stories found in those beautiful cities.

it’s funny but i haven’t been as shutter-happy as i once was, which explains the dearth of photos in this space over the past year or so. i’m not sure why that is. these days i’m content just drinking things in with the eyes, and don’t feel that same need to tell or show anyone what i saw. actually, these days i’m content not talking to anyone at all. which was why it was nice to sit down and stare into space with J the other day, as the chatter of uproarious brickfields moved thickly around us like curls of incense smoke. these are the best relationships — the ones with obligations that don’t feel like obligations, where so much is instinctively understood that not much needs to be said. at some point we asked each other if it was okay to just be quiet and be far away into our own thoughts. yeah it’s okay. the next time i toss a coin into a fountain, or make a wish on birthday candles, i will wish that everyone on earth gets to keep one such friendship with them, on them, always.

photos from istanbul:

(i wrote the above about two weeks ago, but got interrupted while i was resizing photos. in the time between then and now, timtam, who was with me in istanbul, uploaded his own photos to facebook. with his marvelous camera and exquisite eye for a good picture, i really no longer have to share mine, because his photos just outshine any and all that i have. so i’m going to put his up instead :) with his permission of course.

…. BUT!!! not without claiming some credit for most of the shots, cos timtam IS SUCH A PHOTO MOMENT STEALER >:( basically i’ll stop to take a photo of something or someone, and timtam will come up behind me to do the same… except he emerges with the distinctly better photo. life is unfair. everyone, buy an analog camera.)

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#8 – my favourite shot

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#11 – my second favourite shot

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timtam, i support any endeavour of yours to start your own online photo gallery. can’t wait for island creamery bonding time in a week!

don’t you think, life has a funny way of assaulting you over and over again with a recurrent theme, or pattern, or any thing – as if afraid you’re just not getting it? i’m getting it, okay, i really am. these things all hover over me like some dark shroud, how could i not? they manifest themselves in books, photos, behind posters, and even in back-up vocals when i’m not really listening to the song. but i’ve been having these out-of-body experiences lately. it’s like a bad dream where i keep watching myself intrude this holy space and dirty it with my feet, and i can’t say anything or stop myself, because it’s too late. i’m a frequent hearer of the overbearing phrase, there’s nothing you can do about it, but i always disbelieve it, because i i think it is always possible to do something about anything. if you look hard enough, there will most definitely be a sliver of a space for you to edge your fingers through, or breathe into. creativity and relentless amounts of determination is the answer. but because i’m so lazy i often think it’s not worth the work. if it’s meant to be, it will be easy. but then, i’m a frequent hearer of the overbearing phrase, there’s nothing you can do about it, and i always disbelieve it…

anyway i just realized i’m turning 22 this year. how very old! i’m inclined to believe that my life before i turned 19 was an illusion, and that the beautiful world i lived in with all those kind and loving people so long ago is merely some fluttering veil cut out from the fabric of my imagination. because lately it seems that everyone is breaking away from the system that i (once) understood. so either the world is going renegade, or i misunderstood everything for 19 years. either way, i’m horribly left behind, and i must catch up. so i’ll take the red pill for now.

more photos from Istanbul follow!:

#1 tourists at the Topkapi Palace

#2 haha i love this photo! timtam looks like he belongs in a cologne ad

#3 that must be one emotional audio guide

#4 adorable, camera-friendly children!

#5 awww they all loved timtam!

#6 obligatory tunnel shot

#7 obligatory tunnel shot II

#8 conned a group of ladies into taking a picture with me! i was, by the way, dressed so uncharacteristically ‘decent’ because timtam (practically) forced me to, for fear that we wouldn’t be allowed into the palace grounds -_- (like i couldn’t enter the sistine chapel in Rome because i was wearing a short summer dress……………. )

#9 <3

#10 americano

#11 cemetery in sultanahmet, that housed a little tea garden in its shadows!

#12 one of many fresh orange juice vendors on the streets of istanbul. they don’t make a lot of money at all

#13 after getting his permission to take a photo, i waited so long for the flag to unfurl so that i could get my shot. but it never did :( hence this is the photo that never was.

#14 lamp shop! where we did The Forbidden according to SATC2 – followed the salesman into a hidden room in the back, where he showed us… more lamps. but he was the ONLY vendor in all of istanbul to correctly guess that we were Malaysian on first attempt! we were getting so annoyed at being called singaporean -_-

#15 on the periphery of the Grand Bazaar

#16 genie lamps at the Grand Bazaar

#17 istanbul is littered with wash basins like this one. at first i thought it was for pre-prayer ritual (actually, it just may be), but i think turks just really like their washing. they’re so clean with everything!

#18 tamtimtamtimtimtam

#19 a funny sight- watermelon vendor that plopped his stand right in the middle of a street that cars frequently went through. so each time a car came by, he’d have to pick up his stand, move aside, and then return to his spot after the car had driven by. ???? but that watermelon looks so good…

#20 a little dustbin vendor

#21 HAHAHA this is the most poser photo ever!!!!!! hat + tshirt combo, check. posing for photo while exhaling smoke, check. reading book on existentialism, check check check! but i still <3 u timtam!

#22 blue mosque at sunset

#23 overfriendly ice cream vendor!

#24 fat cat

finally!- an afternoon caught by its coattails. am currently at my regular starbucks outlet on campus, where many a study evening has been whiled away not-studying. it feels a little strange to be in new york while it’s all hot and the streets are paved with girls in long legs holding together short summer dresses. sherbert carts have sprung up like daisies overnight, and suddenly, out of nowhere, on the corner of 110th and Broadway, there’s a frail old man playing buttery tunes on a saxophone. it’s my first summer here, and it feels much like a different life.

sophomore year has come and gone, taking with it half of my college career. this year has been very long, and in some segments has been as annoying as a bad itch crawling in a corner of your skin that you can’t seem to locate. i’ve engaged so much in this span of time, and have also been moved around unwittingly (like an indignant chess piece) – but one thing remains a constant: that i am still falling into blessings. sometimes when it becomes overwhelming, i try to guess when it is that my luck will run out, but i find that for the most part i am holding my breath for nothing. surely someone as indolent and unintelligent as i am doesn’t deserve all of this? yet at the same time i’m glad that the school year is leaving. i’m a bit of a packrat, but even i can’t bear the taint from what seemed like a dirty kitchen sink that would never wash itself or go away.

summer classes have been quite fun so far, albeit tedious and entailing very many 8am alarm rings. actually, waking up at 8am is easy peas compared to the string of all-nighters that are/were native to regular school semesters– but there’s just something very inhumane and nature-inconsistent about waking up this early in the summer, this time for nautical skirts and frolicking with books in parks! and so it’s always that much harder to get up. though i swear on my Hedonist Association membership that much debauchery has been going downnnn to make up for my ante meridiem discipline. what debauchery? tales soon!

i was in Istanbul last week for a five-day flee before summer classes started. oh Istanbul: an ethereal city with higgledy-piggledy homes, destroyed so often throughout history but rebuilt and restored with such love, where people are shy and generous with their smiles, where coffee is thick and musky, and the sounds of solat punctuate the skies five times a day just like at home. i was reunited once again with my favourite judgmental friend, Timtam – but we timed our visit to coincide with Mesut’s return to Istanbul. Mesut is my other favourite judgmental friend, a fellow sophomore here at Columbia. we were doing so many of the same things and taking so many of the same classes in freshman year that we felt perhaps we should try to be friends. here, i was going to insert a funny joke about him, but i couldnt bring myself to, because he’s left me to study abroad in Paris for a year, and i miss him muchly already :( so i’ll just put up some pictures from Istanbul:

#1 tourist Timtam striking a pose for an audience of Istanbul cotton candy clouds

#2 conned a group of very excitable kids on a daytrip into taking a picture with me. with the Asian Emblem no less :D

#3 gorgeous view of the Marmara sea from a terrace at the Topkapi Palace, framed by an earnest tourist

#4 whaddup

#5 yummy turkish coffee- folds soooo nicely on the tongue. and effectively rousing, too

#6 a shelf of curios at the Grand Bazaar

#7 copper coffee serving pots

#8 this vendor said he’d give me a free shisha pipe if i went out for a drink with him, haha. i politely declined (upon timtam’s angry furtive glares), and then he offered a discount if i were to take a photo with him. why not! (sorry timtam)

#9 but i ended up not buying a pipe from him :P bought it from another store instead, for the irresistible price of $25! the unfortunate twist is that we smoked so much shisha during our 5 days in Istanbul that i now have a very strong aversion to it…

#10 windy day out in town. this is one of the many streetside ice cream vendors, and me, trying to keep my sticky ice cream upright in the wind

#11 fanning stairs of apartments near Ankara Road, against dusty white air!

#12 a comedian of a sweets vendor at the Spice Market! quite the camwhore too- we took many funny photos with him

#13 steps of a building that looked like a mosque, but surely it was a marketplace in masquerade because there was a man selling alcohol on its foyer…

#14 cerulean eyes of the man running some famous sweet shop timtam ducked into for a box of turkish delight

#15 at the Eminonu ferry docks, where we boarded a ferry that chugged us along the Bosphorus!

#16 onboard the ferry, sipping tea and feeling excited. portrait artfully composed by Timtam

#17 timtam and mesut

#18 us three. gorgeous day out for us and seagulls! portrait artfully composed by me

#19 mesoot gool, kaninabeh?

#20 whispering couple on the ferry! and our empty glasses of turkish apple tea, which is delicious – like apple juice with a round, thick, heavy finish

#21 flags on women on Istiklal Street. not sure who the dude is. Ataturk maybe? it was a public holiday that day, which explained all the flags around the city, much to Mesut’s displeasure

#22 birdhouse