Finally, a Haven

View outside of DeLuca


DeLuca's copacetic interior

Outside the vast double door of our apartment, strong silhouette of an uninterrupted line of barren trees adorns the narrowed streets. Besides the trees, the canal gleams and casts a serene countenance being under the spell of the radiant sun. Ducks squeal as if in rapture of the beautiful day lying ahead! That was precisely my sentiment when we woke up this morning with sunbeams peeking through the two skylights of our loft-like bedroom. A day such as this is unseasonably bright considering that bleak winter is just round the corner.

A clear day like this shouldn’t go to waste, my husband and I concurred. We resolved to venture outside of Delft into Den Haag. In fact, we had tentatively planned to do so after ‘successfully’ spending several hours there yesterday. (Successful in mom-speak means a cooperative tot) Out of a whim and boredom for the lack of fun English-medium TV programs, we scuttled off to American Book Centre’s branch in Den Haag in pursuit of a stimulation of the cerebral kind.

Guided with a dog-eared map, we finally located ABC in Lange Poten, which intersected with Spui, one of the tram stops along the Delft-bound route. Like its big-city counterparts – Amsterdam and Rotterdam, the stores in Den Haag open on Sundays, usually from noon until 5pm. After our book purchases, we found ourselves drawn to the festive atmosphere and growing crowd plainly visible across the other side of Spui. From our vantage point, Christmas lights were serially festooned on top of what seems like an endless shopping avenue. We were instantly hooked! (no pun intended)

Like a skilled animal armed with its killer instinct, we have found our watering hole. At last! A shopping arcade to feast our eyes on and tempt our wallets! Our pupils dilated at the sight of a bevy of noteworthy shops and like a fish out of water, I excitably called out familiar names – Zara! H&M (Hennes&Mauritz)! Hema! Levi’s!

Halfway along the arcade, we bumped into a group of mischievous-looking Zwarte Piets (dress-for-hire teenagers) giving out kruidnoten to passer-bys in front of the ‘entrance’ into the alfresco pedestrian mall simply called ‘The Passage’ with its own share of interesting stores like Benetton, Sisley, Selexyz – a Dutch-language bookstore not dissimilar to Barnes & Noble – and Apple Centre (just what hubby would like). One of the Piet practically ambushed my husband and impishly left some pieces of Kruidnoten inside the hood of his sweater. Now I know how Dhanu feels ;-)

We bought finally the long-postponed sweater for Sadia at H&M which was quite inexpensive, even when compared to Hema. Thereon, lured by the throng of eager shoppers and relatively fine weather, we ambled on and somehow ended up at the corner of Gravenstraat where the super-duper exclusive department store Maison De Bonnaterie proudly stood. Pressed for time, we didn’t trudge inside but advanced further down the lane. We then decided to call it a day after arriving in the middle of heavy pedestrian crossing of luxe department stores Peek & Cloppenburg, and De Bijenkorf. This was where we bumped into Surina, a good friend of my twin and her immediate family, who had settled in The Hague since last July. How nice to see a familiar face from Malaysia!

Today, as a treat for our second anniversary, we indulged in a mini-celebration by having lunch at La Place Mangerie in Vroom & Dreesman (V&D), another department store along the arcade. The open-air, kiosk-style concept is redolent of Café La Marche in The Curve at Mutiara Damansara. The cozy eatery also reminded me fondly of the gourmet food court I chanced upon at Water Tower Shopping Centre in Chicago during the heyday of collegiate life. However, the two entrees and two Frambozen (Raspberry) shakes were a tad bit expensive in comparison to the spread we relished at La Marche!

We then opted to exchange gifts with one another using a system whereby both of us must be in agreement to what one would chose for the other. Yet, in the end each of us wound up picking an item that we like ourselves and then asked the other for an opinion. That seems fairer, doesn’t it? ;-)

The anniversary celeb came to a full circle as we sat down for latte (what else!) at Deli DeLuca, a brasserie located at the corner lot of the Passage. The coffee was too pungent for my taste (caused me a mild headache) but the chocolate truffle tidbit managed to offset its headiness a little.

By the time we reached Delft proper, tiny droplets of rain tapped gently on our winter coats, thus slowly transplanting ourselves back into a Dutch wintry (albeit rainy) existence. Despite the cacophony of people rushing home, the air was surprisingly tranquil, echoing the wistful longing of the deceptively silent canals. Befitting the mood, we whisked Sadia away from the elements into the sanctuary of our home where duties resume and responsibilities await us. Nonetheless, the day’s proceedings buoyed our spirits up for we have, in no doubt, unearthed a shopping haven to call our own.

Soulmate Revisited

It’s our anniversary, as Phoebe Buffay (Hannigan) exclaimed on the final season of Friends when she's all decked out to go to the Knicks game.

Monday marks exactly two years of wedded bliss for me and my husband. In the rainy and chilly climate of Delft, not to mention a high cost of living in Europe, we can be expected to spend ours indoors in the warmth of our apartment and the equally congenial presence of Sadia.

In retrospect, I can hardly believe it has been ONLY two years. It feels, as if, we are already married for five or at most seven years! Okay maybe I am exaggerating on the seven years but I do feel old from the events of the past year.

I largely contribute this indistinct feeling of aging to the birth of my firstborn early this year, which has swiftly relegated me to motherhood and its accompanying obligations. I have to confess I did experience - after the euphoric high of childbirth - some sort of baby blues during the first few weeks following Sadia’s birth.

I was engulfed with the sudden solitary confinement of the physical and emotional kind owing to the presence of a new person in my life. In the back of my mind, I missed the carefree days of traipsing inside malls and lounging at cafes with my husband, never to worry about the welfare of a third person. But when I look at little clueless and forlorn Sadia, I snapped out of my reverie and realized how selfish, insensitive and most of all, immature I could be.

I hope having a baby will make you grow up, Mama said to me once or twice whenever I started yammering about inconsequential or trivial issues that bogged me down. How those words reverberated in my ears every now and then as I tend to Sadia and look at how she has grown over these nine lonngggg months. Of course, like a full-bred mother, she is right. I have taken some personal interests to the backseat, whilst others have to wait until she can walk and talk!

Perhaps I am inflexible (or uptight) when it comes to raising a baby – forgoing some activities (like the movies!) just so that Sadia is contented to have me (and us) at her side, most of the times. However, as a new mother, it is better to be safe than sorry. I still recall the time when I left her in the care of my mother and her maid so as to get a haircut with my twin sister. Disastrous consequences!

While I reflect on this epiphany, I must also acknowledge that my relationship with the hubby has transformed tremendously on several different levels. Some good, some bad. That is inevitable in any ‘dynamic’ and healthy relationships, I gather. We have mutually agreed the kinks that need to be ironed out and tinkered on ideas to ’enhance’ our coupledom.

Another reason which gives the impression that we seem married for longer than two years has to do with our even longer pseudo-friendship during which time we have practically known each other fancies and foibles. Then onwards, after declaring our love, the process of rehashing our attitudes continued, much advantageously if I’d say so myself. :-)

Since having a baby, one interesting aspect of our relationship that underwent change is the widening vocabulary for terms of endearment. Like other married Malay couples I have the privilege of observing, we at times unabashedly call one another Mama and Ayah, asides from the usual spouse-specific affectionate nouns.

My husband supported this practice by arguing that it is outright endearing and symbolizes the appreciation of the wife’s new role as a mother. I begged to differ, pointing out that calling the wife Mama/Mak/Ibu/Umi signifies the end of romantic intimacy and simultaneously pushing the mother role to the forefront, at the expense of the husband-and-wife bond. Perhaps I over-analyze this name usage. Perhaps it’s just for practicality sake. Oh well. Maybe a cigar is just a cigar.

The second anniversary will assuredly be etched into my memory as the year we are outside of Malaysia. The year we had a kid. The teething year, if you please. Like the actual process, you feel uneasy when the tooth begin cutting its way to the surface but you are comforted by the very fact that the means justify the ends (first real tooth). In our case, the obstacles validate and reinforce our unflinching commitment to this beautiful union. Happy Anniversary, YANG! (Hehe)

Of Hans Brinker, Toilet and Water Management

The previous YouTube video makes for a refreshing diversion from my usual text and photo uploads. I hope in the future I am able to upload Sadia’s latest adventures onto this site.

Where was I? Oh yes, Hans Brinker.

He is the Dutch boy who became famous all around the world for sticking his finger into a dyke overnight, in the freezing cold, so as to prevent it from breaking up and cause a major flood in the (flat)land.

But when you ask most locals about him, you will, more often than not, get a quizzical look as though you are talking rubbish or making things up. And if you didn’t know this yet - the Dutch are not prone to exaggeration nor are they forgetful, so you are left feeling perplexed and dissatisfied. Where did you go wrong?

The answer lies in the fact that little Hansje is NOT real. That is, he was a fictitious character created by an American author, with her own fanciful (and expansive, if I might add) impression of the Netherlands. His story as told in the book Hans Brinker (or The Silver Skates) became so believable that other people that migrated into the country (and familiar with the story) insisted that a statue (or two) be erected to commemorate his heroic deed. Talk about art imitating life!

This fact and countless others on the Netherlands’ culture, quirks and other oddities are described with much levity in “The Dutch, I presume?” , by Dutch’s own native, Martijn de Rooi .

My husband procured the book during the first session of his classes last September, possibly serves as a great starting point – an indispensable window - into the world of all things Dutch.

The book is quite resourceful for us since it gives us either a foresight or hindsight to those pop culture references, icons and idiosyncrasies we see and deal with everyday whilst dwelling in Delft.

One such ubiquitous characteristic that is exceptionally Dutch lies (pun intended) in its toilet. As de Rooi amusingly explained in his book “‘There’s no doubt about it, says an American. I’ve been living here long enough and I know the Dutch. If they can’t see land above water, they’re not happy’.”

Jokes aside, I first noticed this deep plateau of a Dutch toilet when we stayed overnight at the Vermeer’s Hotel. Unlike seated toilets in other countries which are filled with water, the typical Dutch toilet is separated into two ‘floors’ or gradations – the first stage hosts an ample space of flat terrain that drops, at right angle, into the second stage - a small, narrowed recess. Herein contains an even smaller amount of toilet water.

Theories from the non-Dutch abound as to the reasons behind the Dutch’s preference for the ‘shallow flusher’, as de Rooi put it. One theory revolves on the Dutch’s inborn propensity to manage their water resources (I can already imagine the advertising banner for this – Waste Not Your Waste! (hehe)) and another theorizes on the deep-rooted need to analyze and order everything. However, de Rooi debunked these myths and elucidated that the Dutch’s close inspection of their waste is matter-of-factly quite beneficial, particularly for children’s health and, that the ‘dry’ and shallow toilet speaks of practicality by way of NOT splashing back on one’s derriere.

To say the least, seeing (and smelling) one’s waste mounting up on the dry plateau is quite a disgusting and reek-full business. And to make matters worse, our only toilet in the apartment is built onto an enclosed area with no ventilation, thus enabling the smell to permeate the whole toilet unit!

The combination of a deep leveled space and an airless toilet leaves one with the following options: (a) a one-off, swift performance that flushes immediately and (b) a staccato-like act of passing motion that calls for multi-flushing in between takes. Undoubtedly, both alternatives deflect anyone from thoroughly enjoying any reading time in the loo.

We finally circumvented this slew of problems by buying a fragrant household spray which now finds its permanent place inside the toilet. I do think such sprays are imperative in the grocery list of an average Dutch consumer. That, or the aid of eucalyptus and other scented oils to mask the odour of human bio-waste(s).

Or, they should try (dis)solving it the Japanese way – a potent drop (or two) of some concoction the Japanese had invented – which finds its place on the shelves of Malaysian’s selected supermarkets and departmental stores. Originally produced for usage in malodorous public toilets such as the ones inexhaustibly available in Malaysia, this drop will definitely come handy in Dutch-orientated toilets. Like those velcroed-on-the-wall ‘spritz’ sprays and a gamut of household sprays, I predict this Japanese creation will be a hit once it arrives on Dutch shores, provided the price is right for these frugal lot!

Pre-menstrual Tension

A situation most hubbies - mine likewise - have to endure every month. Poor hubby though....ever since giving birth, my 'cycle' has been haywire. Thus, he wouldn't know when the 'monster' will pounce on him next! :-D

Quickie: The Jaunt to Madurodam

Last Friday, we brought Rizby on our virgin trip to Madurodam, the miniature city somewhere nestled inside Den Haag. It took about 45 minutes to reach Madurodam via two tram rides from Delft. At first, we took the tram until Den Haag Station Holland Spoor before changing to another tram that led us directly to Madurodam.

The entrance fee into the miniature park costs Euro12,50 each, which is a bit steep, considering some miniature 'projects' are currently under renovation. Do not let the sunny pics fool you into thinking it was a crisp, balmy day. Au contraire, it was chilly and blustery, which compounded by the fact it was located near the sea. Also, the slot during which we ventured out overlapped with Sadia's nap time so she whinged toward the second half of our tour of Madurodam. Sadia ended up sleeping in the baby carrier after we stepped out of Madurodam until we reached our apartment.

The place will look much nicer in Spring, I reckon, when the bloemen (flowers) are ablooming!

p.s. the third photo from the top is a scene from the town of Delft.

p.s.2 At the entrance into the Madurodam building, we were greeted by a human-size statue of the world-renowned 8-year-old Hans Brinker, which literally depicted him sticking his finger in a hole of a dyke (in this case, a massive iron wall), thus saving the Netherlands from a horrific flood - a story which I will explain further in my next blog

Freedom Defaced.....

My friend Rizby was browsing through the news over the Internet this morning and found a headline that caused me some alarm. It revolves on the Netherlands' ban of wearing burqas in public that was uninamously approved by the Dutch government yesterday (Friday).

I'm surprised that a country that is so open, tolerant and liberal like the Netherlands would impose such a ban on its multi-ethnic and multi-religious citizens. Cushioning the move under the pretext of security concerns does not make it more urgent, gratifying or even believeable.

The ban came at the heels of pressure from right-wing parties who demand a tighter monitoring of unfamiliar or foreign cultural elements that have, in recent years, infiltrated the Dutch society following the influx of Muslim immigrants into the country.

Basing their worry on terrorist-related activities that would possibly arise from burka-wearing - perhaps as a way to ‘conceal’ potential suicide bombers or radical Muslim sympathizers - the move for greater enforcement i.e., ban won the favor of Parliamentary representatives. Also, the assassination of the Dutch’s two illustrious citizens who incited Muslims’ anger might bear some weight in Friday’s decision.

I find it ironic that engaging in prevalent activities that can have dire consequences such as prostitution or debilitating physical effects like pot-addiction is not frowned upon or seriously minded in a liberal society. Conversely, burka-donning, which finds its roots in the interpretation of religious texts and is meant as a form of modesty for women (thus protecting the women from possibly falling prey to depraved men), is totally unacceptable and victimizes women’s freedom.

Granted, the differing interpretation of the Quranic verses within a country as well as socio-cultural background of certain communities also delineate the degree to which burka-wearing is considered the norm in Muslim societies.

I still remember when Malaysia started its fierce tourism campaign for Middle-Eastern demographics in the aftermath of 9/11. At first, watching chaperoned Arab women of different nationalities in their abaya and at times with a face-cover (burka-like) swarming the streets (and malls) of Kuala Lumpur astounded and overwhelmed me. As the years passed by however, I’d gotten the hang of seeing them in town, more so during the peak of their summer holiday. It’s like bumping into those orthodox Hasidic Jews, with their long curls dangling at each side of their sideburns, in the subway in New York. As a newbie in Big Apple, I was naturally shocked by their appearance but would I go so far as persecuting and discriminating them? In a Semitic-conscious world, I don’t even think that would be ON the table of agendas.

I believe it's only human to fear those elements and situations that we are not familiar with. And to quote Rodney King’s infamous words “People, I just want to say, you know, can we all get along”, that is exactly my sentiment when I read this newspiece. Yes, I wish the Netherlands which fervently practices freedom of religious expression, will reconsider and subsequently lift the ban. Sadly, in today’s world of complex ego-system (as opposed to eco-system) and legacy of racial hatred and religious prejudice, such child-like fancy is easier said than done.

Our Eccentric Uncle Rizby....

My dear friend Rizby came for a much-awaited sojourn starting on Monday 13th November. Since his arrival at Delft’s train station was ill-timed, we couldn’t meet up with him due to our compulsory attendance for a TB test at a local clinic. This appointment is part of foreign students’ application for a Residence Permit. As such, he had to wait for us for over an hour inside the station which is presently under renovation.

After filling up our tummies with appelino (another variant of the Dutch’s apple-rich pastries) and slaking our thirst with Nescafe 3-in-1, we brought Rizby to town for a show and tell of the old architecture, our favourite shopping avenues as well as the seemingly endless canals and its feathery inhabitants.

The jetlagged Rizby slept early on the first day, oblivious to the noise we’re making on the floor nearby as he slumbered contentedly on his makeshift bed – our sofa. However, we managed to rouse him into a wakeful state after Sadia, out of curiosity, kept clambering up to take a look at this ‘new’ person in her territory.

The next morning, we all hopped onto the train enroute to Amsterdam. The one-hour train was punctuated with Sadia’s usual antics and crankiness which turned out to be attributed to her ‘poop’ time. As soon as we arrived, we rushed to the station’s adjoining male and female toilet to clean her up. At Euro0,50 each per entrance, we were grateful for the spacious and sturdy diaper changing board and clean surfaces of the sink area.

Following that, we reset our bearing for the correct tram route which would lead us to Van Gogh Museum. Yep, that’d be our first tourist spot for Rizby who, like us, is also a great fan of art history. Before I go any further, I’d better qualify this fact lest my twin sister might quickly correct me again – I did visit VG Museum in 1997 with her and her boyfriend-turn-husband. Satisfied? ;-)

The price of admission for the Museum is quite steep coming at Euro10 but the indoor café is copacetic and relatively quiet. The café’s huge glass windows overlook a large avant-garde park outside which even in this cold weather offers a welcome respite from our fast-paced lives.

We were also famished from our crazy sprint to the Museum and with Sadia’s napping, the time was opportune to peacefully eat our lunch. Perhaps it was our long-drawn hunger but the homemade apple pie and vegetarian quiche were delicious to the last crumb.

We then made our rounds onto the well-maintained gallery. Watching Van Gogh’s oeuvre chronologically progressed from almost monochromes to vibrant colors put us in awe of his inherent, artistic gift. I find it uncanny that sometimes only in one’s death that one becomes famous and widely acknowledged.

After covering Van Gogh’s works and other famous artists’ paintings (Monet, Picasso, Seurat, Gauguin amongst others) on the three-storey building, we made our way to Damrak, Amsterdam’s dense tourist trap to take photos on the Square and to loll at the world passing by inside De Bijenkorf’s café. The gusty winds at Dam Square cut short our photo-taking session. By then, Sadia’s mood had gotten sour so we decided to wrap up our jaunt after hastily gulping our canned drinks (no time for coffee!) and finding Sadia’s ‘fast-food’ Olvarit (ala Gerber or Heinz) at Etos, a pharmacy store not unlike Watson in Malaysia.

The next day, Wednesday, Rizal went on his own to Amsterdam with the purpose of buying certain paraphernalia and souvenirs for people, among which wouldn’t be suitable for us to bring Sadia, if you get my drift. Today, we only stayed in Delft since we have an appointment with the City Hall (Gemeente) to process our RP application. We have plans to go to Maduradam, the famous ‘miniature’ town by the week’s end – one of the must-see places any living person has to visit whilst in the Netherlands.

Too bad the tulips are not blooming at this time of the year. Those were our thoughts as our train passed twice the vast parcels of autumn-hued polder (reclaimed land) which unconsciously convey an air of dreariness and desolation. How I look forward to Spring!

The Heavenly Appel-Flap

After about three weeks in Malaysia (well, make that 19 days), we've now acclimatized again to the Dutch climate, in every sense of the word. Weather, food, mode of transport (or lack thereof), places of interest.

Now that we are veering towards (or I might be wrong, we ARE in the midst) of winter, the current 10-hour of daylight must be put to good and efficient use, not to mention briskful. That is, fast-paced walking towards your 'confirmed' destination is paramount in ensuring a mammal-like body temperature and regular breathing. Okay I might be exaggerating on the breathing part. Hehe.

As indicated earlier, this 'short' entry will focus mainly on appel-flap. It's ubiquitious in the Dutch bakery scene, to be found in different bakery shops in Delft as well as in Hema! (This is from my own observation so I could be wrong) We first got the taste of this fluffy, delicious apple filling at the beginning of Ramadan. Wanting a dessert to subsitute for all the 'kueh' spread we are used to in Malaysia, we randomly chose the triangularly-shaped, sugar-encrusted pastry at BakkerJaap, a bakery across the canal in Koornmarkt.

After the first bite during Iftar, we couldn't get enough of it and more often than not, we would buy it for Iftar as our dessert menu, sometime ala mode with chocolate ice-cream or sorbet.

The apple filling, which is adequately sweet, includes cinnamon and a smattering of raisins but it's BakkerJaap's crumbly yet crunchy winning pastry that seals our approval and whets our appetite. After sampling different Appel-Flaps from two other bakeries, I'd say that the BakkerJaap's appel-flap is the best one we've eaten so far.

When we were in Malaysia recently, believe it or not, we were hankering for appel-flap and couldn't wait to go back and eat it! And true to our words, we bought them the first day we arrived home. At Euro1,35, it's quite big and can satisfy your craving for sweet. But of course, in the dead of winter, we tend to get hungry faster, so one piece may not be enough ;-)

p.s. the appel-flap photo was taken AFTER we have inadvertently taken one bite - we couldn't wait THAT long....sorry for the confusion :-)

The City Strikes Back!

We decided to postpone (again) our flight to Delft from the 5th to the 7th November due to Sadia’s worsening condition on Saturday night. The eleventh hour decision was consensual and hinged on the fact that by Tuesday, Sadia would finish her five-day antibiotic course. As predicted, Sadia got slightly better and we were elated that we made the flight change for a good cause. We even remarked that these extra two days was a nice breather from our prior hectic schedule.

Little that we knew of what was about to happen. How we would laugh now at that impetuous remark.

That Tuesday, after finishing with packing and house-cleaning, we finally got down to the car at our parking bay around 4:30 p.m. – about 15 minutes later than our ETD. We didn’t have much reason to worry since our flight had been fixed and confirmed for that night. As planned, we wanted to drop by my grandma’s place in Kampung Baru to say our goodbyes. While driving there, we remembered the one thing that we had put on hold to do – that is, to call MAS for seat reservation so as to enable us to book a bassinet for Sadia. However, when I spoke to the customer service rep, she said that our booking for the flight was CANCELLED!!! Oh gosh! What the heck? She then reiterated that the change that we made on Saturday night was reflected for the flight on 6th November. That could not be! I distinctively remembered the date when I asked for the change – it coincided with my friend, Ning’s birthday. I, for one, am a stickler for dates – ask anyone that knows me. The rep put me on hold while checking the availability of seats for the flight on 7th November. Luckily, there are still seats untaken for the MAS flight. Initially, she wanted to put us on the earlier 2310hours KLM flight (since MAS has co-sharing arrangement with KLM) but we insisted on the MAS flight since each seat comes with its own individual miniature interactive TV screen.

We were unnerved by the cancellation of our deferred flight and decided to forgo visiting my grandma since (a) we were stuck in a bad jam (surprise!) near Kampung Bare enroute to Chow Kit area and (b) we had to ensure the flight availability and seat arrangement as soon as possible in KL Sentral. The jam was so terrible that we only reached KL Sentral around 5:45 p.m. Fortunately, we were confirmed for the flight and checked in our baggage in KL Sentral save for a box that we needed to seal up properly in KLIA. However, since there was no more bassinet left for Sadia the person placed us on a four-seater so that we could occupy the whole row. She assured us that no one else would be put on our row owing to the fact it was not a full flight. By 6:20 p.m., we exited KL Sentral with the intention to go to my parents’ in Kota Damansara. Oh yeah, forgot one tiny detail. We had earlier booked a taxi to pick us up in KD to go to the airport around 7:30 p.m. after depositing our car in KD. However, it was raining cats and dogs the moment we went out of KL Sentral. If you are not familiar with Murphy’s Law, this is the right time to get acquainted with it – When you expect things to go wrong, it will!

If you are not yet familiar with KL, a typical pelting rain with low visibility PLUS after-work rush hour equals to MASSIVE, not-able-to-budge JAM! We then called up the taxi service to move the pick-up time to 8 p.m. By the time we reached Bangsar enroute to Seri Hartamas, it was almost 7 p.m. At that point, we had thought we could make it in time to KD. However, after we reached Bangsar’s steep decline going to Sprint highway the heavy rain made us confused the underpass turning to Seri Hartamas with the entrance into Kerinchi Link!!! Egad!

Once we entered Kerinchi Link, there was no turning back and the jam on the Link was even worse than the Chow Kit’s that we had to change the taxi pick-up again to 8:30 p.m. When we came down from the Link into Mid-valley area, the traffic came to a stand-still (again)! So we made a calculated move by entering Mid-valley, paid the ticket and went out the exit at the other side of Mid-valley ‘mountain’. Sadly, the jam didn’t let up there and we were worried that we might not be able to catch the taxi in time. We even contemplated driving straight to KLIA with the car. Our dad would then come and pick up the keys from us at the airport. To make matters worse, Sadia was having a bout of diarrhea due to the antibiotics, lack of appetite and teething. One of her ‘episodes’ occurred while we were stuck in traffic, thus making her more antsy and irritable. To say the least, we were stressed to the max!

It was as if this nightmarish jam marathon amid the torrential rain is KL’s parting gift for us. For scorning her, for ridiculing her, for leaving her!

As fate would have it, we managed to inch our way from the massive roadblock into the relatively empty lane that led us directly to the Federal Highway and back into Kerinchi Link again. From there, we drove to the Seri Hartamas area enroute to NKVE highway that would in turn bring us to the KD toll exit. We finally arrived around 8:35 p.m. Can you imagine being stuck for two hours on your a** in the confined space of a car! By then, our taxi also just appeared at the porch in KD’s house. It got lost for a while trying to locate the house in the pouring rain.

After short goodbyes with my parents, elder sister and her family and my younger sister’s daughter (my other siblings were not at disposed) as well as quickly cleaning Sadia’s mess, we boarded the taxi for KLIA. It was almost 8:50 p.m. In the mad rush, I left Sadia’s toiletry bag that contained, amongst others, her decongestant nasal spray. We almost reached the turning to the KD toll entrance when I realized this and wanted the taxi to go back but my husband said we were already late and could just buy new ones at KLIA. He also comforted me that we have another spray at home in Delft (which we later found out was nowhere to be seen!). At that point, I broke down in the taxi – it was an exhausting and nerve-racking day. Also, it was compounded by the fact that I didn’t get the chance to properly and leisurely say goodbye to my other family members whom I won’t see until September 2007, God willing.

After settling our box at the check-in counter and dressing Sadia up for the flight, we finally sat down for dinner at 10 p.m. in Sbarro’s at the international Satellite building. We wolfed down our dinner before making our last stop at Starbucks. The incomparable Caramel Macchiato and scrumptious banana chocolate muffin would be indelibly marked into my memory for many years to come.

Aufweidershen! Daag for now!

Time's up! We are going back this weekend. Whew! All the hectic and on-the-go activities will finally cease. The short trip has taken a toll on our health, that much I'm sure. We all came down with sore throat, cough and a slight fever. The situation doesn't bode well for Sadia who is currently enjoying a growth spurt. Wish us the best of luck tending to Sadia when we board that plane! The weather in the Netherlands appeared to go downsouth in the Celsius department, hovering between 0-5C! (I was told). This is on top of intermittent rain spells and hailstones!

But we thoroughly enjoyed the epicurean and culinary delights on offering whilst we were here. It is now time to say good bye to them....Goodbye Madam Kwan, Little Penang Kafe, Cozy Corner, Nando's, Dome, RotiBoy, Uncle Lim's, Kluang Station, Insaf Cafe (at Jalan TAR), Tarbush, Chilli's, Ampang Yong Tow Foo, Restoran Mahboob (Bangsar), Restoran Rashid (Ampang), Pizza Uno, Mak Bedah and our copacetic, favourite coffee hangouts Starbucks and San Francisco Cafe....Not to mention the many rumah terbuka (open houses) we visited during the Eid celebration....thanks all!

Welcome back yummy Apple Flap! (a yummy Dutch pastry that has become our 'dessert staple' for Iftar (Break of Fast) in Delft of which I will write on more later), Mockamore, oven-fresh tandoori chicken and many tonijn sandiwches!!!

Addendum to Ten Things I Miss.....

note: additions and corrections in Italics

I am back in Malaysia for a short visit with my family since 20th October. The main purpose was to settle a few loose ends with regards to my husband's academic 'situation' in The Netherlands which in turn affects our stay in Delft. Since it coincides with the Eid celebration (or as we say it in Malaysia - Hari Raya Aidilfitri), we took the golden opportunity to come back and celebrate the joyous occasion with our family!

When we landed in Malaysia, it felt as if we never left home. For one thing, it was hazy as the cab drove us to our parents'house. Despite the smog, it felt nice coming home. Warm fuzzies. A wondrous sense of belonging.

After securing our family car at my parents' place, we drove home to Ampang. When we came off the NKVE highway at Jalan Duta and took the lane enroute to Jalan Kuching, a car zoomed past ours from the left side and overtook us. How rude and dangerous! (Unlike our American and European counterparts, Malaysians drive on the right side of the road. As such, a driver can only overtake from the right) All of the sudden, the wonderful feeling of belonging was replaced with an annoying state of mind. The ugly side of KL living quickly seared into my consciousness. Welcome home, it mocked! This incident (and many more) leads me to append three OTHER things that I don't miss about Malaysia:

1) JAM, JAM, JAM! - The traffic congestion is so notorious that you might as well use the wasted time in the car doing something productive. Like some people whom I've seen reading the morning dailies while being stuck in bumper to bumper rush hour. It gets really bad when it pours heavily and night time falls. A very unfortunate combination.

2) Ruthless, callous drivers = Spewing swear words - I realise that coming back means having to face those speed demons on the roads who couldn't care less about other law abiding citizens. Their crazy stunts and maneuvers on highways and trunk roads ignited my anger and unabashedly compelled me to cuss (and curse) at them! This is in contrast to my laidback attitude, sans an automobile, in Delft devoid of any reason or avenue to swear at senseless, idiotic drivers.

3) The dilapidated condition of our apartment's lifts - The lack of trash chute from each condo unit has affected the hygiene and the odour of our two lifts. We were reminded of this when we took the lift up for the first time after arrival. And of course, some hooligans who think they are artistically-inclined took pleasure in vandalizing the lift's walls with graffiti using an assortment of markers, pens and knife-engraving. Two days ago, I finally saw the latest 'work of art' in one of the lifts - a male torso complete with genitals! Since it was engraved into the lift's door, the cleaners couldn't clean this mess up. And they have done a mighty great job at cleaning those nasty graffiti. This is a far cry from our 'manually-operated' yet PRISTINE elevator in Delft. I really don't mind the lack of proper lighting and the occasional mosquito bite in Delft's lift now! ;-)

Time to go home is almost on the horizon. Funny I use the word 'home' to describe our apartment in Day-lefth. I have mixed feelings about leaving Malaysia after weighing the pros and cons about the living condition here. Undoubtedly, any place that we choose to call home will have its share of upsides and downsides. As much as I want to conjure it, I can't have the best of both worlds. I just have to make the best of what I have and what I can offer. But given the choice, Malaysia wins hands down!

Selamat Hari Raya (or Eid Mubarak!) to fellow Muslim brethrens, friends and family!!! (albeit belatedly). Hope the Eid season will fill you with many memorable and happy moments. And to some friends, apologies in advance for not being able to meet up with you during the short stay. Minal Wal-Faizin!