Charity Week for Horn of Africa: Somalia

It's been a long time since I posted. The past few weeks have been busy. What've I been upto? Fundraising! The Islamic Society of the University of Nottingham organised a two day charity event to raise funds for Somalia which has been hit by a double crisis- Conflict and Famine. The funds raised will be channelled through the Islamic Relief Malaysia ( IRM)

The preparations for this started last week, hours were spent brainstorming ideas to raise funds. We had almost-nightouts at the masjid making posters and collages (I can't stand markers or glue or cellophane tape now!) It's only after joining Isoc I realized how much work goes on behind the scenes. Now I truly appreciate  every event as I know how much the person behind it has work. And it's not just one person, of course, it's team work that counts. We have to work as a team to conduct something of this scope. In working as a team, it is inevitable that friction arises , however there is no option but to resolve your issues with others, if any, and to just learn to take the positive criticism and ignore the rest. Afterall, this work we are doing is not for each other, or for even ourselves, but for Allah (Yes, I am paraphrasing what one of the brothers said :D)

(After all the hard work, we had a pretty decent booth! )

Moving to the  event itself, it was on Monday and Tuesday. We had Domino's pizza and Big Apple donuts which were an instant hit with the students and were sold out by the end of the day. Then some of the sisters were kind enough to cook for the event, so we have toffee apple, rice pudding and jelly pudding. May Allah bless them for their efforts and forgive them their sins. On Monday we had a talk in the evening by ZairulShahfuddin , a man who has worked in the Humanitarian Aid field with the IRM for 17 years. He spoke about the current condition in Somalia. I felt ashamed that I didn't know that people were living in such drastic conditions. I knew that there was a famine in Somalia, but I never gave it a second thought. I was content drifting in my own bubble creating imaginary problems. I feel ashamed that I make a mountain out of a molehill, that I am not grateful for what Allah has bless me with.

 I regret each time I said that the cafeteria food is boring. 

My problems used to be- making a choice about what I should eat for each meal- 'should I eat grilled chicken or a sandwich?' What clothes should I wear to class- 'Should I wear my black dress? No I wore it 2 days back..I can't repeat clothes!' All this while in another part of the world people are dying of hunger. Mothers are leaving their children to die, people are swallowing pebbles to fill their stomachs and walking hundreds of miles in hope of finding something-anything- to eat. Every 6 minutes a person is dying there. That means by the time you finish reading this post a person would have died. 

It's sad, yet true. This is the worst drought that Somalia has faced in the last 60 years. Statistics show that 4 million people have been affected by this. That is almost 3 times the population of Kuala Lumpur. Unable to face this people have been fleeing to the neighbouring countries of Kenya and Ethiopia. Of course, that is no perfect solutions as they face trouble finding livelihood in the new country as well. 

What can we do to help them? First, make du'a that Allah helps them get through this disaster and keeps them strong at the face of it. Second- Donate! The amount does not matter, every rupee, every cent is capable of making a difference. As one of the brothers in ISoc said, just donating the money that we usually spend on a can of Coke can feed a family. You can donate through these sites as well- http://www.islamic-relief.org.uk/index.aspx

https://wfp.org/donate/hornofafrica?gclid=CLfju5zWg6wCFY1S4godOFLxIQ

 What about students? They can't always donate, you may say. Well we can volunteer. There are many organisations which need young, energetic volunteers to assist them. In Malaysia itself, Islamic Relief Malaysia  (http://irmblog.org ) is looking for volunteers.So you can do your bit by just giving a few of your weekends to this instead of movies or malls. 

At the end it all comes back to du'a. it is indeed the weapon of the believer. May Allah help those who are fighting for their lives everyday. May he quench their thirst when they are out in the desert with not a drop to drink. May Allah protect us all and save us from trials like these.

And We will surely test you with something of fear and hunger and a loss of wealth and lives and fruits, but give good tidings to the patient.

Who, when disaster strikes them, say, "Indeed we belong to Allah , and indeed to Him we will return."

Those are the ones upon whom are blessings from their Lord and mercy. And it is those who are the [rightly] guided.

(Qur'an. 2 :155-157)

A trip to Wayanad with a bunch of Crazy old Engineers.

After 8 months of slogging in Uni (no need to smirk!) A trip to Wayanad has left me rejuvenated. On a not-so-sunny Monday I boarded Chandappan Travel’s mini-van (Yes, Ninan Uncle, the name is Chandappan) to Wayanad. In the van with me were 5 hyper ex-collegemates, 2 lovely ladies (1 of whom is also among the alumni) and 4 not as hyper-as-their-dads teenagers. ( Umma stayed back as Velliamma wasn't feeling well.)The occasion? A mini reunion of ex-CETeans.

Starting Place: Pavangad, Calicut

Destination    : Wynd Valley Resort, Wayanad ( I don’t know why they spelt it that way)

So, we pushed off from Calicut around 12 pm ( After a 1 hr ‘breakfast and bathroom’ delay) with our driver Raghu ettan. Poor guy, had to put up with 13 noisy people for one whole day! The drive was the best and the worst part. With the lovely scenery- lush green fields, rain soaked leaves, the tiny yellow flowers playing hide and seek with the ferns- when one, enchanted by the scene, starts his reflection on nature and it’s beauty THUD the van hits a pothole and you are jolted out of your reverie. The people at the back took the worst hit I guess. However, the journey was fun and we had a good break for lunch at Upavan, a beautiful resort, situated on the way.  After meen curry -chor and porotta-chicken with full tummies we pushed off. In about an hour we pulled in to Wynd Valley resort. It is, as Shirley Aunty said, a mix of old and new. It is a uni-block with around 12 rooms with sloping roof and attached balconies with cane chairs, facing the ‘park’… the works!

After tea ( I think I can write a whole post about the Malayali fascination with tea), now joined by few more of my dad’s friends we pushed off to Ambalavayal to see Phantom Rock. Yes, you read it right it is PHANTOM rock. This is one huge skull-shaped rock (hence, the name Phantom) placed over another, naturally. (By Allah J ). On a similar note, the mountains in Wayanad really made me come back again and again to the verse in Qur’an-   Have We not made the earth as a bed, and the mountains as pegs?  (Quran, 78:6-7). ( Another really nice verse is- "And He has cast into the earth firmly set mountains, lest it shift with you, and [made] rivers and roads, that you may be guided" (16:15) )

On the way to this Phantom Rock the hyper excited ex-classmates were seized with a desire to eat pazham pori (batter dipped and fried bananas ). This craving is something that hasn’t left any of them since their college days and only gets intensified when there is another CETean in the vicinity.  So our harassed driver was told to stop at every thattu kada on the way till they could locate one where they could get some steaming pazham poris. All the while the men were remembering their dear friend Chands who couldn’t join them for this trip (Ninan Uncle, they really missed you and the name of the mini-van just heightened their nostalgia as they were going at their pazham poris.  :D )

We reached Phantom Rock and, surprisingly, the area was empty. This gave us freedom to move around and explore the place. The rock is quite something. If you are in Wayanad, this is something you should check out. Since, words can’t really do justice to it, here is a picture-  

From there we headed to Karapuzha dam. Here Shereef, Fenwick uncle and Santhosh Uncle decided to sprint towards the top on the slope (Separately). And since I was the photographer I didn’t bother chasing behind them (or should I have? :S) 

Walking amidst this greenery framed by majestic mountains, one can’t help but feel humbled by the beauty of god’s creations. Even after man’s technological prowess in the 21^st century, can he ever make something as simple and as beautiful as a dew drop on a leaf or something as majestic as a mountain? Another thing that fascinates me are the different shades of green that exist here- bottle green, parrot green, emerald green, lime green...and all of them so cooling for the eye!

After a long walk my dad, true to the food-lover’s blood running in his veins, herded us into a thattu kada and we relaxed over cups of steaming chaaya (With and without :D) . My Dad's beef-sensitive nose sniffed out beef fry and soon we were enjoying spicy beef fry with our tea. We even packed 6 plates of beef fry for dinner (Which, not surprisingly ceased to exist once it entered the 'boys' cottage)

Dinner was an elaborate affair with a spread of porotta, chicken Al-faam, puttu, appam, curry…even my brothers ( who have pits for stomachs) had to stop after a while. Even, I gave up my, ahem, diet at the sight of the amazingly barbecued chicken inviting me to dig into its juicy legs. Ok, that made me sound like a vampire, anyway it was amazing.

 Following the dinner was a surprise mini-party for a couple amongst us who were on their 25^th wedding anniversary. Santhosh Uncle and Jayashree Aunty had cakes, a speech and couple of songs waiting for them. 

After the cake cutting we retired into our rooms with tired shoulders and aching limbs for a good night’s sleep.

Next day morning we checked out of the resort after a complimentary breakfast (I am sure the resort management will cease to offer such breakfasts after the way we went at it  :D ). We were headed for the last stop in our trip- Banasura dam- the largest earth dam in Kerala. Again, words can’t describe the beauty of this place, neither can my amateur photographs capture it. However, here are a few shots which might come close to showing the place.

Here we youngsters  had an amazing speed-boating experience. Once on the boat decked in the jhatang orange life suits and halfway into the ride it started raining. And if you have never tried speed-boating when it’s raining, it’s something you should try. The wind and water whipping on your face- amazing! By the time our parents received us we were one drenched bunch with chattering teeth.

After that last activity we piled into the van and were on the road back to Calicut  (Now accompanied with uppilitta maanga and nellika- I can’t  find a good enough English equivalent to describe these tangy vinegar-preserved fruit slices). 

After one more stop at Kunnamangalam for lunch we were back in calicut in 3 hours. Tired but happy ( Most of us, atleast).

The ex-college mates slowly slipped back into adulthood and by the time everyone left my dad was back to being my dad :D

She

‘Sureshetta ,what time is it?’. Madhavan was anxious. ‘Why’, sniggered grumpy Sureshettan,’ you have an appointment with the minister after serving us tea?’. Madhavan sighed and wiped the tea stains off the table with the cloth that was perpetually on his shoulder. She still wasn’t here. It has been three days now. Usually around 10 in the morning She would come, all draped in that sari, pottu on her forehead and a smile on her face. ‘Oru Chaaya, chetta’. One cup of tea. And after wrapping the end of Her sari around the steaming cup, She would sit there lost in thought. Before leaving She would always pack one of his special plantain fries. And then She would leave, the polyester draped lady who was never without a smile. Now that he thought about it, there were days when She didn’t smile. Those were the bruised days. She would walk in with a swollen lip or a bluish patch on her forehead. On those days She would sit there holding the hot cup, swaying lightly. On those days She didn’t want his plantain fries.

 She had been there when his daughter, Meenakshi, burst into his shop with a copy of Malayala Manorama. ‘Accha, Look I made it into the top 100 in the Medical Entrance Ranklist!’. He had been so proud of his Meena that he had hugged her, something which had never done, and for the day every cup of tea was on him. When he refused to take money from Her for Her chaya, She had smiled and he had noticed a missing tooth.

Three days without her smile.


Where was She? 

*---*

Even though Mubarak was blind, he always knew when She passed him. It was just before the Ernakulam Express chugged into the station. He would hear the tinkling of anklets and then the sound of a coin dropping into his bowl. He would breathe in the scent of jasmines and then he would smile at his unseen benefactor not knowing if She ever smiled back. He liked to think She did. On some days the feet with the anklets seemed to be in a hurry. But there always came a coin with that sound.

But today he didn’t hear any tinkling of anklets, though there were quite a few coins dropped into his bowl. When he didn’t hear it for the first time, two days back, he was a bit disappointed. After 2 more days of no tinkling, he was worried.

He wondered what must have happened. Was She sick? Has She moved to some other place? ‘Or maybe, Mubarak’, he smiled to himself, 'She must have stopped wearing her anklets’.

He strained his ears to get at least a faint whisper of her anklets. But all he heard was the chugging trains, passengers haggling with coolies and the shouts of ‘ Chaaya, Pazham pori’. No anklets.

Where was She? 

*---*

Sudha looked at the empty seat across her. She sighed. Three days and no sign of her. Usually, by this time She was seated in front of her with her feet tucked under Her and Her purse clutched under right arm. As the train jerked forward they would start talking.About Husbands, children, magazines, movies… She smiled remembering the day when they had argued over whether Mammooty or Mohanlal was a better actor. They knew each other’s husband’s names, the kids- Sudha had a daughter- Lakshmi and She had two sons- Mohan and Vinay.  For  Vinay’s birthday Sudha had bought a Pencil Case and given it to Her. She had smiled gratefully. And when it was Laksmi’s birthday She had given Sudha a packet of Ladoos. Lakshmi’s favourite sweet. Yes, They knew each other very well by now, except the names. Somehow, that was never asked, maybe they were never meant to know it… their names were swept under the seats like some other things that were never discussed- bruises and a missing tooth...

Sudha looked wistfully at the empty seat where She should have been sitting. She longed to tell her confidante the latest news in her life- Sudha gently placed her arm over her stomach and smiled affectionately at it. Sudha had wanted to discuss names with Her. But now there was a void where She should have been…

Where was She? 

*---*

He was Her husband. Jaya, That’s what he used to call her when they were newly-weds. Things were good then. He had money and She gave him two sons. Then came the thunderclap burning away his shop, his dreams…his life.  And Her's.

She was supportive. She never complained. Ever. Even before dying, it was as if She knew what was in store for Her. He took another swig from his bottle. And moved towards the boys. 


*--*

My battles with food and flab

Before coming to Uni, I had one small expectation from it that I never dared to tell anyone. LOSE WEIGHT. I had heard stories of people losing weight drastically after being subjected to the notorious ‘hostel food’. Not that I was huge or anything, I just wanted to tone down. But apparently, there was another plan in store for me.

The first day, I find out that there is no ‘hostel food’ here. Ok, then what do I eat? Maybe I’ll have to cook myself. Then I’ll definitely lose weight! ‘Cause even I won’t eat the stuff I cook.

Unfortunately, there was another option, many options actually. I found out there is an international café in the Student Association (SA) building, Which is, ‘International’. There is an Arabic corner which serves Pakistani/Indian food (think naan, chicken handi, Butter chicken), there was an Indian store which served Sri Lankan food(think Kothu!) and later was bought by the Pakistanis of the Arabic corner and converted into an international stall which served Mexican and Italian food. These two stalls, accompanied by a beverage counter which was owned by a Sri Lankan (and now by the Pakistanis from the Arabic corner.) make up the backside of SA. Wait, that doesn’t sound right…

Inside the SA, we have Western-Oriental stall, a Japanese corner a Malay counter and a Thai counter.

So during my first few weeks here everything was hunky-dory…Morning I’d wake up thinking which new delicacy I’d try out. By noon I’d be hogging a ‘Garlic double cheese naan’ and dinner would be Pizza with friends. Little did I realize that in approximately a month all these ‘delicacies’ will take their revenge on me by bonding with my body. Oh but in some areas the size did decrease- Like my wallet size. Eating at the Arabic corner everyday proved to be too expensive. If I continued eating there I might have ended up washing dishes to pay for the food.

So I decided to switch the Sri Lankan counter. One dish that immediately scored with me was Chicken Kothu Roti. It is made of shredded paranthas and minced chicken with roasted onions and chillis…and is just amazing. One of my friends informed me that in Sri Lanka they like this dish so much that they even have a song dedicated to it!

Kothu is also popular in Tamil Nadu. It’s unfortunate that I didn’t come across it in India.

So for a few days it was kothu for me all day and all night long. After some time my friends started complaining that I smelt of Kothu. Actually no, they just couldn’t see me putting another spoonful of it in my mouth. And I admit, I got tired of it.

So it was time to switch again. This time I decided to try out the food stalls inside SA. So I started frequenting the Malay counter. The dish that caught my fancy? Mee Goreng. It’s fried noodles. It’s quite delicious and makes a good meal. But no one told me that if you eat it every day you are going to inflate.

So there I was with a few more pounds packed on me. I started following the usual route which people who have gained weight and are too lazy to do anything about it do- Wear LOOSE clothes. So even though I looked like I like wearing curtains and bed sheets, I no longer looked, ahem, plump.

(No.not in these kind of curtains.)

 This went on for a few weeks until my cheeks started getting…Plump. Now I had only two options left-

·         Wear a mask

·         Exercise

I did consider the first option for a long time, but something told me that taking that course of action will alarm the students and staff of the University of Nottingham.

So unwillingly I started going to the gym. Thankfully I had a bunch of loyal friends to join me while working out as they were also getting, ahem, plump. :D

The first day, I went all dressed in my handy LOOSE gym clothes. I stepped on the treadmill and pressed the level option. ‘Uphill’- no. ‘cardio’- no. ‘pikes peak’- what the hell is that?!. ‘Weight loss’- Aha! Come to mama! So, very optimistically, I started on it, smiling-totally determined, aiming to jog for 20 mins. After a few seconds the smile disappeared- Straight face. The straight face then morphed into a frown. And in 5 minutes you had a 5’7 plump sweaty girl who looked like she was, ermm… ‘not used to exertion.’

OK that was not good. I needed to try something easier but which will help me reduce weight instantly. I scanned the gym and my eyes stopped on the cycle. Now, I have always loved cycling. As a kid I used to spend hours cycling around our colony with my friends. I even chipped my tooth while I was trying to impress no one in particular while trying to cycle hands free. Wait, I wasn’t supposed to reveal that. Anyway, ‘cycling it is!’ I thought. So I started cycling and all was going pretty well when I see a girl, half my size, pedalling away to glory. Watching her made me tired.

I gave up.

But then, the next day, I thought why not try it again. So again I went to the gym. I braved the treadmill. I jogged, but this time I set some realistic goals. I worked out for about an hour. And, I FELT SO GOOD! There is something about exercising that releases some sort of positive energy in you. Since then my friends and I have become a common (and slightly unpleasant?) sight at the gym.

Will I lose weight? Only time and my ability to persist at it can tell.

What about you? Any weight loss techniques that worked for you? (If you are ‘plump’ that is :D) And yeah don’t tell me ‘Reduce food’. That’s one of my passions!

This post might seem completely random, but it’s something I have wanted to write about from a long time. But again, I thrive on randomness!

Trip to Kuantan

       Friday the 13^th, what does it make you feel? For a long time it signified nothing, I used to laugh at those who spoke about the bad luck that it brings. Not any more

       Don’t worry, nothing drastic. I messed up a French exam. All that gurgling and choking on my ‘Rs’ (Say ‘EKH’, ‘Ekh’. No listen to me, ‘EKH’, ‘Yuck’…so on and so forth till both the teacher and I collapse) was finally just for a horrible 2 hr showdown at the exam-room which had me wondering whether I could ever really even dream of mastering French. Fat chance.

        Even after messing up the exam, I wasn’t really totally heart-broken. I had something to cheer me up- A weekend trip to Kuantan!!  Kuantan is a coastal town about 3 hrs from KL (and 5 from the jungle I live in). My friends Mumtaz and Muaddibah had invited me and my classmates for their brother Muhammad’s wedding reception. So after the exam got over, instead of moping over my failed attempts at conjugating deceptive verbs, I dashed to my room which is at one corner of the fourth floor of a hall at the end of the campus. I had to pack and get back in time for the 12.15 bus to the railway station, and it was already 11.45. I stuffed my bag with whatever clothes I could get my hands on and ran back to the bus stop. After my marathon run I come back to find Mumtaz and Muaddibah (M’n’M) waiting for me, no sign of Chalani and Samantha( My other classmates accompanying me). The bus was already there, so Muaddibah gets into it.  Suddenly the bus starts and leaves with Muaddibah in it and with us standing outside with open mouths as it rolled away. Panic. By then Chalani comes and we decide to take a taxi to the station and meet Muaddibah there.

At the station we re-unite and it’s all happy again. We bear the 45 mins train journey and finally reach the bus station only to find out that we had missed out 2 o’ clock bus by 5 mins. Frustration. Sweat. And more frustration and sweat. It’s ok, we thought, we’ll get another bus in half an hour. Oh yes we did, only it was after 2.5 hrs. To kill time we decided to take the monorail and get down at the next stop and go to ‘The Mall’ (It’s a mall. Like, Duh.) After an hour of bingeing on chocolate pastries and chocolate cakes and more chocolate we made our way back. Monorail back to the station and then, Muaddibah’s ticket get’s stuck in the slot. We informed the security guard who went about retrieving the ticket, only at such slow pace that he would make even a snail look like Usain Bolt. While we are jumping like our pants were on fire, this guy laughed and joked with his colleagues and probably discussed about the weather and his neighbour’s wife’s brothers’ girlfriend’s uncle’s new cat. It was frustrating. We finally got the ticket out and ran to the station. We didn’t want to miss this bus also!

Finally we did make it 5 mins before time. It was the first time that getting into a bus made me glow with pride. The bus ride was beautiful, is something I would have liked to say, but I wouldn’t know as I slept like a log through the journey. (Oh, you don’t want to see me sleep, I exude such peace and grace that it will blind you)

So there we were at 8 pm, five exhausted  yet excited girls.  My friend’s brothers took us to our hotel room. It was a very average room but we were fine with it, but M n’ Ms mom had us move into another hotel the moment she came to know about it. So 2 hotels in 2 hrs. Not bad!

The place we checked is a homestay, Ah, it was luxury! We are eternally indebted to Aunty for making us move there. 

Dinner was at the wedding house.Three of us (Samantha, chalani and me) were greeted by aunts, uncles, cousins and friends of the family. A large group sat around the table laughing and talking, packing give-aways for the guests. It reminded me so much of weddings back home. The atmosphere was one of celebration and they were generous in letting us also celebrate with them. For dinner we had some traditional Malay snacks- Chicken satay and Ketupat. Satay is skewered chicken eaten with a sweet groundnut dip and ketupat is rice cakes cooked in small packets made of woven palm leaf. We jumped right into it.

Day 2, the day of the reception.  The reception was a really new experience to me. At the hall we were greeted with pretty young girls who gifted us Dodol ( A traditional sweet which tastes a lot like the kerala banana halwa), Bahulu (traditional malay cakes) and strawberry preserves. The décor inside was done by the family, and it was just wonderful. Elegant is the word of the day. The grooms family dressed in beige while the Bride’s family wore red. Men wore the traditional attire and women wore abhaya (full-length gown) or Baju-Kurung ( A patterned  long shirt worn over a skirt). When the newlyweds made their entry the generated quite a few ‘ooohs’ and ‘aahs’. The Bride looked lovely in her Pink dress and the groom dashing in his Baju Malayu. The maid of honour (Bride’s sister) and the Best Man ( Groom’s brother) accompanied them to the stage and stood their fanning them. 

 (At the reception organised by the Bride's family)

The hall had a small group playing some instruments which didn’t look anything like the instruments I had seen so far. It is called Gamelan, the music it produced was soothing.

The food was again traditional Malay fare. There was meat cooked in fruits, Opor (A special preparation of beef which is available only in Pekan region of Pahang), Ayam Masak ( Red chilly chicken) and of course Nasi Minyak and Nasi.(Rice). The dessert section had agar agar, a kind of jelly, fruits, cake.

After the reception they celebrated the 3^rd birthday of their youngest sibling- Aqil. Little Aqil was the man wearing an Indian/ Pakistani Kurta Pajama. He was excited seeing that they hadn’t forgotten about him in all this rush. And even more when he saw his play school friends there.

(Aquil and his friends after the surprise)

After the reception we dropped Samantha and Chalani at the bus stop. They had to return to Kl as they had work to finish (Nerds I say. Don’t kill me Chalani). Then it was back to room and then to La Plage! Oh yeah! The beach! Oh I just fell in love with it! It was directly out of a postcard. White sand, glittering blue water and swaying trees…..

As it was the weekend the place was packed but even then, the weather was lovely and after an hour walking around there I felt rejuvenated.  

The rest of the day was spent relaxing and eating. And eating.

Day 3

Morning breakfast at M n M’s house and then shopping! I needed inners for my hijab and they found me and ideal place where I could buy this wonderful invention of man. After Double Cheese Burst Pizza, that is. After melting under the sun we went to ‘Mustafa’s Place’ to have ‘Cendol’. Cendol is a refreshing drink/sweet consisting of cendol (coloured flour in the form of string like jelly) in coconut milk with shaved ice and brown sugar syrup. One bowl had me recharged and ready to party (Not literally, Mom).

We headed to an estuary in the evening with hopes of seeing the sunset. Clouds played spoilt sport. 

But I did get to see a mosque which I found very different from the ones back home. Sweet and simple. 

As it was Sunday, there was a weekend market on. They had set up tents and were selling clothes, shoes, gadgets, fish, vegetables anything you could think of! One section of the market was exclusively reserved for food. They had spring potatoes, Roti John (Chicken submarine), Nasi Lemak ( Rice cooked in coconut milk, eaten with chicken or fish curry), Mee Goreng (Fried noodles), Murtaba (a Malaysian version of pizza)…Ok I am going to stop there. Makes me want to back and binge.

Dinner was with their family at a Malay restaurant. We had tom yam, peppered beef and buttered chicken.

(Aunty serving Tom Yam for everyone)

(Aqil critically analysing the food...'hmm, there is a tad too much of vinegar')

Delish! It was nice having dinner with them, made me a bit home-sick though as I remembered outings back home. Just can’t wait for September to go back!

Next day we set off early morning back to KL. Mumtaz's dad drove us back to KL. Which was very sweet of him.

After three days of fun and food I find it difficult to get back to my studies, especially French. EKH!...But as they say, all good things must come to an end….

Till next time then! 

P.S- Muaddibah is standing with a knife at my throat right now , insisting that I include her role in this wonderful trip. She was our official chauffeur. She drove us around everywhere. But I think Mumtaz is a better driver (Ouch! That hurts! Fine! You are better)