:: Sdara Newsletter Nov 2007 ::

Kembara Sdara (part 4)

Nandang, Sle, Tok We & Yahya Pakih trip to Manila, 2 - 5 Feb 2007

Day03 - Part 03: Shopping at Ilalim ng Tulay & Globo de Oro Mosque.

Dateline : 3rd Feb 2007.

After recovering from my surreal experience at Rizal Avenue and finishing our drinks, we walked on beyond the Carriedo LRT station before turning right at the end of the avenue. Walking down the road a bit we passed some markets selling daily sundries and fresh produce. I wanted to take a look through the market a bit but the others of the group was less enthusiastic than I was on the prospect of walking through a smelly wet market in the middle of a hot afternoon. Taking the cue from them, I continued on past multitude of vendors selling fresh local mangoes that seems to be everywhere. It was not far from the market that we finally found Ilalim ng Tulay Market.

Ilalim ng Tulay Market was a collection of shops selling locally made handicraft, trinkets and garments set underneath a busy dual carriage overhead pass. My guidebook highlighted this place as the location to go to for cheap souvenirs or pasalubong as they are known in the Philippines to bring back home. We were all on the hunt for these trinkets and especially for me, I was looking to find affordable barong Tagalog and handheld fans to bring back as mementos of my trip here. The variety of items for sale here was mind-boggling as well as the range of quality these items came in. Buyers would definitely have to pay a little bit more for the higher quality versions of the items on sale but even that was still quite reasonable on the wallet.

We spent quite some time browsing through the shops looking for the items that we wanted to buy. It was not surprising that the whole place reminded me of the Filipino market in Kota Kinabalu since they have almost the same items on sale but at a substantially cheaper price. Staying true to my standard operating procedure on shopping, I did not buy anything at that point. I was mostly going around comparing the prices and quality of the items that I was interested in from one shop to the other. We ended up in a shop near the end of the row which had the barong tagalog, fans and tablecloth sets that we were all looking for.

Unlike the rest of the group, I had still not decided at the time if I wanted to buy my souvenirs there. Once the other guys completed their purchases, we decide to walk up to the other side of the market where I saw the Balikbayan Handicraft shop nearby. Like Tesoro's that we went to the night before, Balikbayan specializes in handicraft products from the various provinces in the Philippines. The prices of the items at Balikbayan was about half of those found at Tesoro's which made it a acceptable median if one was looking for something of higher quality than what was sold at Ilalim ng Tulay Market but couldn't afford Tesoro's prices. The only negative that I say about the place is that the service staff there was slightly less helpful that those at Tesoro's. I guess that they got tired of having people come into their shop and not buy anything after comparing the prices of the items here relative to the cheaper versions just outside their doorstep.

After browsing at the Balikbayan shop, we decide to find someplace to have lunch at. From the map, we knew that the Globo de Oro Mosque should be somewhere nearby but we could not see any sign of a mosque dome from where we were standing. Once we walked up the road a bit towards the Pasig river, we finally found the dome that we were
looking for and proceeded to walk in the general direction of the dome. As we came nearer, it was apparent to me that this was definitely where the less moneyed people lived. Most of the buildings here were dilapidated and there was mounds of rubbish all around the area. Unlike the clean neighborhood that I walk through earlier that morning, the area around Globo de Oro Mosque looked more like a dump then the surrounding area of a place for worship. It was sad to think that the people living in that area continue to dump their refuse just steps outside the mosque entrance that they themselves used as a place of worship.

Zuhur prayers had already ended when we reach the mosque. Like most of old Manila, the mosque could definitely have used a through cleaning and a fresh coat of paint. It was built in the same style of mosques found in Malaysia with the addition of some simple local decorations what reminded me of stained glass windows. It was quite an eye-opening experience seeing that mosque's conditions and comparing it to the much well cared examples in Malaysia. I don't know why but I felt a wave of apathy from the surrounding area and the people there as if they have resigned themselves to the conditions that they were living in. I was trying my hardest to keep an open mind and positive outlook but it was hard considering that how poorly maintained the mosque and the surrounding areas was. It's not the surrounding decay that got to me while I was there but the apathy of people who were living in the area for not taking care of the mosque better. I know that I have no right to assume that they didn't care around the surrounding area since I don't live the life they lived but it was frustrating to see it as it was that day.

Still trying to reconcile what I was feeling, we decided to get something to eat at the shops at the back of the mosque. These shops sold mostly food on the ground floor and had living quarters for the family at the second floor. Looking from the outside, one could be forgiven if one thought that it was a squatter's shack which was honestly what it was. For lunch that afternoon, we had plain white rice with stir-fry vegetables, fried chicken and a fish dish very much similar to the "singgang" dish found in Kelantan. I'm horribly bad at trying to recognize cooked fish so I can't tell what type of fish was used but it had a slightly rubbery texture that reminded me of stingray flesh which I'm certain that it wasn't. Like the other meals that we had thus far in Manila, the food was a bit on the bland side relative to the spicy fare that we had grown accustomed to in Malaysia. I then knew what people meant when they warned me to bring my own chilies when eating Philippine halal food before coming here. I guess that our Malaysian tongues have been too scorched by spices to really appreciated any taste subtleties in the local style of cooking.

After lunch and combined Zuhur/Asar prayers, we sat for awhile in the mosque to rest before continuing on our journey. I took the time there to update my own travel journal notebook as well as doing rough calculations of how much I have to spend on my pasalubong purchases that I still yet to do. Once I was fairly sure that I have my shopping list completed, we walked back to the Ilalim ng Tulay Market to go to the shop that we went earlier. Along the way, we stopped at another shop to buy some locally crafted key chains and knick knacks. I usually buy key chains on all my trips to give to the people at my office so a stop at a shop like this was a must. I must have spent about 500 pesos on those key chains since I had a large group to buy for from my office. Once that was completed, we proceeded to the final stop of our shopping trip at the shop we stopped by before where I shopped for all the barong tagalog and fans that I needed in my list. The asking price from the barongs there was about 900 pesos per piece but I managed to haggle them down to 700 pesos since I was buying them in bulk. I guess that I could have gone lower but I was never good at bargaining especially when I think that these people may not be making that much in terms of profit margins to begin with.

Considering the prices that I would have to pay to buy them from either Tesoro's or the nearby Balikbayan, the barongs here was quite a steal even though the quality may not be as good as what was available in those two places. In the end, I bought 10 banana fiber barong tagalog for the guys on my shopping list and embroidered banana fiber hand fans for the ladies. I must have looked at all possible colors for the barong that they had in the shop before selecting my choices just because some people on my shopping list simply have strange color favorites when it comes to clothes. I did want to buy something more substantial for the ladies on my shopping list but I knew next to nothing about buying garments from women and definitely did not want to offend anyone on my list for buying the wrong size clothes for them. Especially when most on my shopping list were members of my family which meant that I would not hear the end of it if I came back with the wrong size clothes for them. In hindsight I could have gotten them the tablecloth sets or even the woven handbags they sold at that shop to add to the fans that I bought them but we were not the type of family that care much about having tablecloths on the dinning table and the handbags were too bulky for me to pack in the small bag that I brought with me on the trip. Looking back I wished that I had bought a few slightly better quality items from Tesoro's when I was there especially for my mum and sisters.

Once we were all shopped out, we decided to get back to the hotel to rest before going out again later that night. From Ilalim ng Tulay Market, we only had a walk for a few minutes before reaching the area around the Quiapo Church. There were a lot of people there both just hanging out or selling trinkets from cartons placed on the ground in front of them. Feeling quite tired after the long day, we decide against walking around the area to see what was available but instead to take a jeepney from this area back to Mabini St. I guess that this was some sort of a major jeepney stopping point as there were jeepneys bound for a multitude of destinations there. Wise now to the ways of the jeepney, we quickly spotted one heading to Mabini St. and jump in with the locals. Since there were quite a few of the jeepneys heading to the same direction, we had our pick of which jeepney to get on so it was not very crowded. Learning our lesson from our earlier jeepney adventure, we specifically asked the driver to tell us when we reach Mabini St so we can get off at the correct place.

After reaching our hotel at about 3:30pm, we all went back to our respective rooms to rest before going out again that night. I promptly crashed out on the bed till sometime around 7pm when I woke up to get some dinner which was just the items that I brought with me from home. Next was to get ready for the group's plan for the night which was to finally sample the nightlife that this part of Manila had to offer. I have to be honest that the night outing was not exactly as exciting as I had expected it. To be blunt, I was actually quite bored most of the time but better be bored in a group then be bored along in the hotel room. Other than the less than inspiring night activity, it was in all quite a nice day out and about in Manila.

(to be continued - Day03 belum habis tulis lagi)

Cheers,

nan

Nandang Abdul Rahman
nandang@tm.net.my

p.s: More photos at http://travel.webshots.com/album/557535621swXlaM and

http://travel.webshots.com/album/557571588fTvUpZ

THE FLIGHT MISSED US!

(KEMBARA SDARA)

If there’s anything in life that you would wish to remember for a long time, other than the sacrosanct “tok kadi’s handshake” it has to be - missing the flight. First, we don’t fly by that massive bird every other day. Second, we had it all set up a month before and hardly slept the night before departure. Next, you are on a mini holiday with a meticulously designed program to spice up the trip. Last, and the best of all - you are traveling with your buddies of 35 years who once shared not only the “nasi kawah” but sometimes towels, toothpaste, shirts, shoes, beds, you name it !!! - All under the mighty name of SDAR, and yet you can afford to miss it.

Syed Zaki, a Sdara 7176 from Kuantan spent the night at my house so as not to complicate our journey to the airport. Payau (Wan Razi) Sdara 8285 would be going on his own as planned despite living in Seremban, about 15 minutes away from my house. Sle (Ruslan Rahman) Sdara 7176 was from KL and would have to start his, obviously from there.

The departure time to Jakarta was 0700 hrs. Air Asia it was. I called Payau as early as hitting the Senawang tollhouse with my wife next to me so that she would drive the car home after sending me. What a wonderful wife she is! (She even took the day off). Syed Zaki was beginning to doze off again after less than 10 minutes reclining his head at the back seat. I was not surprised, as our night session was busy with admiring and comparing the looks of tennis stars in US Open live coverage of women’s single quarterfinals – instead of their games! – man will always be man. Upon reaching Nilai toll house I dialed Sle and the usual response of “on the way” settled my nerves.

We were busy adjusting the two bulky golf bags on the relatively tiny trolley when Payau appeared grinning as always, and instead of taking another, he piled up his on ours. Syed began with “kalu kak Sdar ni, mu keno sekeh doh”. But Payau gave in saying “Tak po ah..biar aku tolok ah, mugo aku ni junior mu owk?. That’s cool! Probably, Payau was still running around bare all when the three of us stepped into the compound of Sdar Tg Malim.

The LCCT’s Mc Donald looked more like a wet market than a fast-food joint with the crowd pushing and shoving each other for tables. We managed to get ours though, and the authority of seniors was well observed when Payau volunteered to take the orders.

The breakfast was done when I checked the time at my cell phone and it was 0620 hrs. My heartbeat was already making faster intervals when there was no sign of Sle, while Payau was busy dialing him. I didn’t want to check in without him even though the risk of missing the plane was hovering well on mind. Come what may - it’s the four of us!

Finally, Sle called Payau saying he had just arrived and was waiting at the check-in counter. Hastily, we shoved our way with our weird-sized luggage through the mingling crowd with Payau weaving among the lines of people showing his skill - Mat Rempit way.

Great news!!! The counter was closed and the call for boarding was already announced. For a moment, everybody was rooted to the shiny tiles. I begged the officer, giving all sort of excuses for being late and of course plus my 10 cents face, with him only shaking his head and waving his index finger. I didn’t know if he’d listened at all to my “fabricated sob stories” coz the only words I heard out of him was “no, no. no,” but he showed some courtesy and proposed to us to see his senior at the far end counter.

The four of us rushed to the intended man, carrying loads of hopes to be admitted into the plane but I knew well out of years serving at the airport there was not even half a chance for us to make it to the plane’s door.

I didn’t know about the others but my minds were already weighing possible options or plan A, B, or even to Z to make this journey a reality. We got the very same answer from this new guy amidst Sle giving him the rationale that the flight was called but the plane itself had not taken off. It just doesn’t work that way guys!

We failed the begging and pleading test there. But growing up as Sdarians taught us not to panic and always think of some ways to get out of trouble. Like when you were caught hiding a pack of Benson between the folds in the locker during weekly inspection, you must come up with ideas to escape. Or, you were sound asleep during prep hours and Mr. Segaran (my time) woke you up with his torch on your face. By whatever explanation, the Benson would land you in trouble anyway, but Mr. Segaran would bid you to continue your sleep if you directed his torch to the bottles of fever liquids, cough syrup and some tablets neatly arranged on a stool beside your bed. He wouldn’t check the details. For all you know, those things could’ve been from last month’s stock or the name scribbled on the hospital slip belonged to someone else.

We huddled together like a team of rugby players before kickoff discussing the next course of action now that we’d missed the flight. Syed was spotting a wry face and unwilling smile as if he was summoned by a senior for the weekend’s clothes washing. He didn’t talk much and responded “aku ikuk mu la Mando”. I smelled the words, well blended with dejection.

The refined decision was that we’d look for whatever available flights to Jakarta for the day and if the search went futile, we’d tee off at Nilai Springs golf club and spend the night in Nilai before flying off the next day. We had to make this journey by whatever means coz the “orang kampong semua dah tau” kind of thing, and to carry those golf bags home was not to be our choice. The only good news for us that miserable morning was the ticket coming back would still be valid. The biggest task was trying for seats with any carriers – a one- way ticket, be it KLM, MAS, Garuda, Lion Air etc.

Being an IT man, Sle had with him a laptop and began dancing his fingers by the time we settled at the main terminal, to ease up our airline hunting operation. The taxi ride from LCCT to the main terminal cost us dearly.

We split up duties with Sle and Payau on the net and Syed and me browsing the airline offices at the terminal. It wasn’t even 8 yet and all the offices were closed. Up, down, escalators, elevators and all, Payau called when I was having some refreshing puffs just outside the building. His voice was full of excitement at the other end relating what they had both accomplished. At last, we had to move back to the LCCT as they’d managed to secure 4 seats with Air Asia to Bandung at 1050 hrs, by virtue of the 3^rd retimed departure of that particular flight. And the taxi ride back to the LCCT this time around, cost us even dearer.

Perseverance pays - in both ways I would say. First, it paid when we secured the seats and second, we paid dearly for our uncanny mistake. Why not? The one-way ticket cost us even more than the round trip we had, originally, but a simple mathematics comparatively to MAS pacified us a bit. Moreover, I hate the impression that I had planned a trip that was doomed from the start.

As we had the trip planned out, we had to notify the other side of our newest change of program. Out of Mazri’s (Demang), Sdara 8285 benevolence, we were provided with a driver and a Toyota Fortuner for the whole adventure. Demang is an expatriate with a multi-national company stationed in Jakarta.

The driver was already on his way to Jakarta airport and had to divert his journey to Bandung when Demang alerted him. The golf booking in Bogor Raya had to be cancelled and a new course in Bandung awaited us. All was done, when Demang called back in less than half an hour. What a great friend Demang is. That’s part of the wonderful nexus in Sdara.

Surely, the driver could not make it in time to receive us, and I advised him to head straight to the Mountain View Golf Course in Bandung and we took two cabs to cater for the four crazy Sdara golfers from Bandung’s Hussein Sastranegara airport.

It was awesome! Perching on the highest point of Bandung’s naturally mountainous landscape, it scared the hell out of novice golfers. The vistas from up above the city with cool winds in your hair were just the beginning of things. Nevertheless, these four seasoned Sdara golfers were all set to battle the challenges offered, especially after the hard-earned trip.

The wind was hurtling sharp on our faces on the first tee box, the chill was fairly- pleasant, and one that reminded me of Kalamazoo in early autumn. Way down was the fairway, narrow but graciously inviting. Nevertheless, the tall cliff on the right and a gawking ravine on the left rattled your focus. It felt like teeing off from a five-storey building.

Mine was the best of all tee-shots with the others finding the ravine fearing the cliff to the right. Sle’s and Payau’s were playable anyway. I had played Bandung’s courses before but this one was truly amazing. My checking with the caddies revealed that it was opened about 8 months ago. Even the clubhouse was still at a fledgling state.

Holes after holes, pars, bogeys and birdies, our game was filled with intense camaraderie alternated with loads of banter the way we all grew up together many-many years ago. We teased each other even by the slightest of mistakes or by a single slip-off the tongue word. When you’re around Sdaras, you never grow up! That’s what we are. By the time we reached the last, it was almost dark and we feasted our eyes with faint-looking lights beginning to decorate Bandung city beneath us. It was beautiful! Little wonder why the Dutch had chosen Bandung to be their administrative center during the colonial days.

Didi, our “supir” waved his ever friendly hands and with accustomed respect, shook every one’s. This was my third time with Didi, he had no problem recognizing me. In Jakarta, we’d look different no matter how hard we try to assimilate into them. Just like here, we could separate them ‘tween us with a snap of the finger. We stopped for dinner at Bandung’s famous Sunda eatery. Gurami goreng was a compulsory dish, cha kangkong, hot and spicy cumi, and the “lalapan” or ulam was as fresh as newly plucked, plus the deliciously barbequed chicken with the steam caressing your nose.

The journey to Jakarta involved no serious “macet” (jam) as it was Thursday and with the newly completed Bandung-Jakarta highway, we didn’t have to pass Puncak, Cikampek, Krawang and lots of others. One of our seniors had a 12-hour journey down to Jakarta from Bandung – all because of a massive “macet”. Down here, they called it “macet total”.

We safely checked-in into Hotel Maharani in Jakarta Selatan out of Demang’s booking and refreshed for the next. The next is for you to find out!

---end of day one---

Payau woke me up after he’d done with his shower as we’d promised Didi to be at the lobby by 8 am. I guessed we had all slept like a log the night before owing to the hectic day, we had, but everybody was punctually at the breakfast table by the time we had agreed. The coffee house had nothing-extra ordinary to sample. I had a bowl of “lontong” and added some bread with an omelet to go with.

As the tee off time booked at Rainbow Hills Golf Club was 12 noon, we had plenty of time to spare even if we had some “macet” to deal with. The price tag of revenge this time around would be tripled, as proposed by Sle. In golf, the ethic is, the loser calls the next wages. We were all prepared.

Since the traffic was light, we had a brief stop at Jakarta-Bogor R & R. There was a Factory Outlet store selling jeans, shirts, handbags and scores of others, with branded names. You can have Versace, Prada, Gucci, Guess or what not at incredibly low price sold under broad daylight. Original or otherwise, no one’s gonna pull your collar or force you to strip off your jeans to check.

After some coffee and snacks we headed to Bukit Pelangi (Rainbow Hills), exiting Sentul tollhouse. There is “Sentul” after all, in Jakarta. We passed by vast areas of tapioca plantation but from the looks, the trees were smaller and more bushy than that of ours. I was made to understand years ago, those were to produce “ajinomoto”. It answered my mulling over some Indons I knew that they sprinkled a couple of tablespoon of that MSG into their cooking – they had plenty of that back home!

There’s a Petronas in Sentul before we began ascending the route to the course. Opposite the station, there’s a row of shophouses quite identical with the ones back home. Demang told me before, the area was developed by a Malaysian company.

The road meandered a lot, passing by Sunda villages and lifted us higher to the pleasant early morning breeze. It was a high-country, something like our Bukit Tinggi or now Berjaya Hills, the neighbor of Selesa Hill Homes.

The course itself was adjoining Gunung Guelis, where you could distantly see each other while you’re at either. I played Gunung Guelis with Demang and Payau on my last trip. In Sunda language “guelis” means “beautiful”, and the “gunung” is indeed beautiful!

Rainbow Hills is another “must-try” course. We had originally planned to play Bogor Raya, but as the sudden change of schedule screwed us up, I convinced Syed, we would one day - all the more reason for him to cross the straits one more time. Ask any golfers frequenting Jakarta; Bogor Raya is a “compulsory” course for more than just many reasons.

I was expecting Syed would triple up the wages instead of the ordinary double up. I was the loser as well for the first day. That announced who the crocodiles were. Instead, he suggested in a demure tone to maintain the previous day configuration.

Off, we battled again. It was only at the 3^rd hole that Sle broke the news for Syed’s unwillingness to alleviate the bets. They shared the room, and before hitting the sack, Syed was contemplating to look for a moneychanger the next day. Apparently, he was reduced to only a half millionaire from the multi-millionaire status when he stepped down the plane in Bandung, albeit in Rupiah.

He gave it all and showed his prowess right from the very 1^st hole. When we settled down for refreshment for the post-game review, he had recovered almost all of what he had lost the previous day. The generous “donor” for the two days’ game was none other than the writer.

We had “nasi padang” for dinner, where the waiters lined up some fifteen dishes on the table. As if to proudly display their rich variety of dishes, there were some, piled up as the table ran out of space. That’s “padang” style. Don’t worry about the bills or “bon” as they called it, you would only be charged for the ones that you “touched”. Indeed, as I learned from “Travel & Living” channel, Indonesia is the 3^rd after French and Chinese for the varieties of culinary in the world. I tend to agree, partly anyway! You wouldn’t believe your eyes when the “kasir” (cashier) handed over the bills. We had only spent a little more than 200 K rupiah for the five of us. With the rate at 3.78, you do the mathematics!

It was raining sheet on the way back to Jakarta. The journey was smooth until halfway where the traffic seemed to grow in numbers by the distance we covered. Having Didi was a great relief. He’s the kind of driver I would not hire. As I was at the front seat, I could feel my pressing the brakes was even more frequent than his was. In that situation, he was our savior – time wise.

He knew his way very well. We were at the hotel’s lobby nicely on time for some pre-arranged meet-ups. Exhausted, we dumped the bags and settled into a session we liked most. As Hasnan put it, “sessi test suara”. When all was done, the fluffy beds awaited and nobody remembered the previous day, the next day.

We checked out about 11 albeit the flight being at 2025 hours. We had planned to fill up the time with some shopping spree in Tanah Abang, famed with brand names items. The eight-storey complex was packed with shoppers that you would have to unwittingly graze somebody’s bums and boobs while inching your way through.

Syed and I got what we were looking for and Sle enjoyed tailing us around. Didi was waiting punctually at the ground level for his last service to us – to the airport. It was by then, 4 pm and we safely reached Soekarno-Hatta airport by six.

The flight was right on schedule and we landed in KLIA just before midnight, and guess what? We had Sdara annual golf to play the next day. We had two practice rounds in Jakarta and Bandung which were worthy of all efforts.

Fun, is too small a word to describe what we had endured the past few days. To recap, time spent with fellow Sdaras is immensely priceless. That’s why we are proud to belong…and don’t go changing, to try to please…we love each other just the way we are…

With fond memories embedded in our minds, the hardship we faced, the crackle of blissful laughs and the pleasure of being together, we didn’t miss the flight after all. The flight did!

Komando

Sdara 7176