The Lives of the Others - The Brown Bears of Katmai National Park

I was very fortunate to have discovered a live web cam link by chance that allowed me to look at, as well as monitoring the lives of brown bears in Alaska's Katmai National Park.

The web cam, on Explore.org, is available 24x7, there are also several cameras to choose from, to let one catch a glimpse of the brown bears, as well as other animals such as Osprey, Puffins, Pandas, Puppies, etc, from the comfort of your computer.

Brooks Falls, Katmai National Park, Alaska

It is especially exciting now during the month of July and the first two weeks of August because it is also when salmons swim upriver to breed, commonly known as salmon jump, that is when hundreds of bears gather along the Brooks River to feast on the largest Sockeye Salmon run of the world.

Over a period of just three days I have learned to identify a few key characters that frequent Brooks Falls. There is 480 Otis, an older male, who reputably has the best fishing technique, he likes sitting in the river, you will find him at This usual position which is closest to the camera where the white water is, known to the viewers as the jacuzzi.

There is 814 Lurch, a dominant male who has a bit of a temper, who also has a big bottom and likes to fish on top of the fall. There is 469 Patches, who has a distinctive diamond shaped patch on his left shoulder and left leg that was badly injured just a month ago, whose method of fishing is to dip his right paw into the water. The left leg is looking much better now and looks like Patches will make it.

Bear 402 and her spring cubs

And then there is 634 Popeye who has a big hump, 747 the giant male, 409 Beadnose with her three yearlings, as well as 402, an excellent fisher, with her spring cubs, Snorkels the sub-adult who is always nervous yet playful, whose fishing skill needs to be brushed up in preparation for the harsh Alaskan Winter, and countless others.

All these bears just made me fell in love, every time I click on the link I wonder what they are up to, and catching up with their stories from the community forum.

I hope you will enjoy this week's highlight as much as I did! If you are screaming for more, click on this link for the live web cam overlooking Brooks Falls.

C is for Chile: Part 7 - Region II

Sand, rocks and volcanic complex, Atacama region

Previous: Part 6 - Region XV & Region I

After enjoying the seaside and salty air, I went inland to a town called San Pedro de Atacama, located near the border of Bolivia and Argentina and a 7 hours bus ride from the coast. I have a fascination with dry and arid places, I couldn't get enough of deserts after visiting Sossusvlei in 2000, the Atacama desert is therefore a must on my list.

Salar de Atacama

Surrounded by the sand, rocks and volcanic complex, San Pedro is a small oasis that sits on the northern edge of the Salar de Atacama (Atacama salt lake). With less than 5,000 inhabitant, its main source of income is tourism as San Pedro is the most accessible town to visit the Atacama desert - the world's driest with an average rainfall of 0.004 inches per year, where some weather stations in the region has never registered rainfall!

Laguna de Chaxa, Los Flamencos National Reserve

Just north of the town, at the Los Flamencos National Reserve, 3 species of flamingos: pale pink (James's Flamingo), pink (Chilean Flamingo), and brilliantly pink (Andean Flamingo), can be spotted, their presence brought beauty and life to the otherwise seemingly inhospitable surroundings. The flamingos were the only wildlife I saw in this barren region.

Valle de la Luna

An hour outside San Pedro lies the Valle de la Luna (Moon Valley), it has an impressive range of colours and salt crystal rock formations, in fact the scenery was so out of the world that, my guide claimed, Stanley Kubrick filmed part of his 2001: Space Odyssey here.

Salt crystal rock, Valle de la Luna

The same tour also visited the Laguna Miscanti, a saline lake surrounded by red-ish, yellow and brown looking volcanic complex. The colour combinations became more vivid when ray of sunshine sneaking through the fast moving clouds, it was so beautiful that I could hardly believe I was seeing it.

Colourful Laguna Miscanti

While at San Pedro, I went horse-riding, again! If I can name an economical activity in Chile it has to be the horses! I paid 6,000 Peso (about USD12) for a 2 hours ride, so cheap that it was a steal! There were just 4 of us - the guide, who don't speak a word of English, a couple of Colombian tourists, and me, poquito castellano (a little Spanish).

I realised I was the only novice rider of the group halfway through the journey when the horses started trotting following the lead horse, it scared me a little as I had no idea how to handle a horse when it does more than just walking, thankfully I didn't fall off and crack my head open on one of those nasty looking volcanic rocks.

Gabriella and her rider

It was the same on the return journey, my horse Gabriella, followed the lead horse and started cantering, while I managed to hold Gabriella still the other three disappeared from my sight, I was left all alone in the desert! Luckily Gabriella knew the way to the stable and slowly walked home with her rider intact.

Path to Gabriella's home

The way the horses hurried home reminded me of my parents' dog when she was taken out for a walk, always upped the pace on homeward bound as if some invisible force is pulling her towards it, I suspect it is part of animals' homing instincts?

On my last night the gas heater in my room decided not to co-operate. The adobe style inn owner who helped me turn it on for the past couple of nights has gone to Antofagasta for business, his wife was no help as she has no idea how to work the heater. There wasn't a spare heater I could use and no other accommodation nearby, in the end I managed to get through the icy cold desert night by piling 5 blankets on top of me.

Adobe church, Socaire, Atacama region

My next destination was the northern port city of Antofagasta, 5 hours bus ride from San Pedro with a transit at Calama. For the first couple of hours within arrival, I walked around the centre area with a 15kg backpack on my back searching for accommodation, nothing was available! I've even checked the 5 stars Hotel Antofagasta out of desperation, to my dismay, it was fully booked too.

Antofagasta

After seeing posters and announcements at the hotel's lobby, I found out that Antofagasta was hosting a copper mining conference, which explains why all accommodation were booked out. It was something I should had researched after my Córdoba experience, I obviously didn't learn from my past blunder.

I was tired, frustrated, and panicky.

Where should I go? Can I lounge about at the hotel's lobby? Do I walk back to the bus terminal and jump on a random bus to take me out of town? If so, which town? Or should I just go straight to my next destination, Santiago, a 19 hours bus ride away? Am I prepared for another long bus ride on the same day? Is it safe to spend the night at the bus terminal? So many confusing thoughts running through my head.

Vacancy at Antofagasta

Fortunately for me, the hotel concierge, a kind looking older gentleman, seemed to understand my predicament and ordered the hotel receptionist to call around for accommodation on my behalf. In the end they found the no frill Hotel Brasil, located at the scruffy part of town offering simple rooms with shared facilities, it was not ideal but at least I didn't have to sleep at the bus terminal. I am thankful to have met some good people along the way.

Just a Bunch of Texans Opening a Can of Surströmming (Fermented Herring)

Surströmming is a fermented herring and is also a Swedish delicacy, in another word, rotten fish. I use the word delicacy carefully because not every Swede has tried it and not everyone has tried it like it.

It is common practise to open a can of surströmming outdoor, preferably in a bucket of water. The pungent smell of the can, once opened, can be overwhelming and the water in the bucket help dilute the brine that will spill out of the can. The water will has to be tipped directly to an outdoor drain or risk the whole building stinking of rotten fish.

An opened can of surströmming

Surströmming is best consume with pita or thin bread, diced red onions, lots of sour cream, boiled potatoes, and wash down with lots of strong alcohol like Akvavit.

These men have my upmost respect from the way they opened the can and tried the fish, it made me cringe be but kudos to them for willing to try this infamous delicacy. They might consider throwing away the can opener :)

Thanks guys for the laugh!

Hachikō the Loyal Akita Dog

Hachi

I met an American Akita dog named Honey last Summer outside a cafe, I was instantly mesmerised, Honey is probably the most gorgeous dog I have ever seen. While searching for more information on Akita dogs, I stumbled upon this incredibly touching story about an Akita dog in Japan who died almost 80 years ago, the dog was Hachiō.

There weren't much details on the dog in the English language websites, I had to rely on Google Translate to piece together Hachikō's story:

At Shibuya Station

Hachikō was a Japanese Akita dog born in November 1923 in the Akita Prefecture in northern Honshu, the main island of Japan. The puppy was named Hachi, Japanese for number eight, the 8th puppy of the liter.

Two months after his birth, Hachi was sold for JPY30 and placed inside a rice sack on a 20 hours train ride to Tokyo, where his new owner, Professor Hidesaburō Ueno, worked as a lecturer at the Imperial University (now University of Tokyo).

Professor Ueno was a dog lover who had a special interest in Akita dogs. Beside the new puppy, he also had a 7 year-old dog called S and a 8 year-old Pointer called John. Together, the three dogs would sent the Professor off to work in the morning and greeted him at Shibuya station or at the University gate in the evening, that was their routine everyday.

Waiting for Professor Ueno

On 21 May 1925, only Hachi accompanied the Professor to the University and returned alone to wait for him in the evening, the dog waited till dark but the Professor never show up. Unbeknown to Hachi, Professor Ueno died of a stroke earlier that day while giving a presentation.

For the following three days, Hachi hid in a room where Professor Ueno's things were kept and refused to eat anything. After the Professor's funeral on the 25th, the three dogs continued to wait for their master at the station.

Receiving treats

Unable to care for Hachi, Professor Ueno's widow first placed the dog in the care of her relatives in Nihonbashi, following by in the home of friends in Asakusa, both are districts of Tokyo. During these two years, Hachi was unable to settle into his new environment and was once again re-homed, this time to Professor Ueno's old gardener who lived near the Ueno's residence.

As a sign of dedication to his old master, Hachi showed up at Shibuya station everyday to wait for the Professor, and he did that for the next 8 years.

With member of the public

During the day in which the dog waited at the station, Hachi was treated as a stray, he was harassed by hostile passerby and scolded by station staff for entering the station yard. This continued until one day in 1932, a member of the Nihonken Hozon Kai (Preservation Society of Great Japanese Dogs) took an interest in him and published Hachi's story on the newspaper.

The article praised Hachi's loyalty, a prized virtue in the Japanese society, and nicknamed him Chuken Hachikō - Faithful Dog, Duke Hachi - it also changed people's attitude towards him. Members of the public would flock to Shibuya station to catch a glimpse of the remarkable dog, bringing treats and food.

With station staff

On the morning of 8 March 1935, Hachi's lifeless body was found in an alley not far from Shibuya station. He was brought into the station's luggage room, one of his favourite places, where Professor Ueno's widow and station staff were photographed praying for his soul. Hachi was 11 years old.

Praying over Hachi's body

It was widely believed that Hachi has died of stomach rapture from a yakitori skewer, it took scientist 75 years after Hachi's death in 2010 to confirmed it was cancer that killed the dog.

Hachi's stuffed body is now on display at the National Museum of Natural and Science in Tokyo, with his flesh and bones buried beside Professor Ueno in Aoyama Cemetary. A bronze statue of the dog was erected outside Shibuya station honouring his loyalty and is now the symbol of Shibuya, it is also a popular meeting spot.

The story of Hachikō touched me deeply and seeing the last photo made me sob uncontrollably, I am very happy to have found this story and I want to tell it as Hachi was truly a remarkable dog.

Source: The Asahi Shimbun, Shibuya Net, Tresure Box, Wikipedia.
Images: I do not own the copyrights and I will remove them upon request.

Beautiful Strangers - Part III: Mohammad of Damascus

Previous: Beautiful Strangers - Part II

Mohammad, July 2010

I met Mohammad outside the Nahr Eshe regional bus terminal on one crisp and clear July morning. Actually, I am not sure if Nahr Eshe is the right place, I only remember the bus terminal being close to a major highway with lots of wide intersections and is located in the south of Damascus.

I was there to buy a bus ticket to Homs, from there I've hoped to catch a mini bus or taxi to the nearby village of Tartus, where the ruins known as the Crac des Chevaliers or in Arabic, Qala'at Al-Hosn (the Qala'at), lies. The Qala'at is a Crusader castle built more than 3,000 years ago in the 11th Century, it is said to be the best preserved Crusader castle in the world, for a history buff like me, I cannot miss this for the world.

Qala'at Al-Hosn - Limestone Wall

I couldn't get a ticket because the Syrian Police demanded to see my passport, without it they won't authorise the bus operators to sell me ticket, even though Homs is less than 2 hours' drive from Damascus. For such was the reality in Syria, foreigners are expected to present their passports on demand and the police were the tsar.

One bus operator was sympathetic, he tried to sneak my travel companion and me on a bus but was spotted by the transport police, in the end he shook his head and threw his hands in the air apologetically, we walked out the bus terminal feeling rather dejected.

Al Baraka Bank, Damascus, July 2010

As we were contemplation on our next move, a chubby young man with an neat attire standing behind the bonnet of a yellow Damascus taxi caught my eyes, he was checking the engine of his taxi and gave us a casual glance as we walked pass. The young man has kind eyes and possessed a quiet mannerism, he projected an air of tranquilness contrasting to the chaos we had just experienced.

Something told me this man will help us so I asked my travel companion to approach him; we could use a taxi to to get us out of there, perhaps to retrieve our passports from our accommodation and try again.

For a taxi driver, the young man commanded reasonably good English and after a short fare negotiation, he agreed to take us all the way to Tartus. But first, he must change car at his cousin's, which is nearby, because his taxi was not in a good condition for a long drive. He introduced himself as Mohammad.

The Neighbourhood, July 2010

The neighbourhood where Mohammad's cousin live was full of shadow, dusty, discarded shopping bags and plastic bottle all over the ground, there was not a spot of greenery in sight yet the place gave me a feeling that people care about where they live, it had a cozy feel to it.

Mohammad instructed us to wait inside the taxi while he checks with his cousin about the car.

I got out of the taxi to look for a pharmacy, hoping to buy some band-aid for my blisters. Perhaps it was still early, not many shops were opened, near where we waited was a butcher where fresh meat hanging off a hook, there were flies everywhere, as well as a tiny kitten under the butcher's table scavenging whatever that fell on the ground.

Salhiyeh, Damascus, July 2010

Across the road was a shop I don't really know what it was selling, I approached an old man inside the shop pointing to my blisters, he pointed me to a store a couple of doors down and shouted something in Arabic to the people inside, most likely telling them what I needed as one of them came out of the store to greet me with a pack of band-aid.

A few minutes later Mohammad returned cheerily to inform us that his cousin has agreed to lent him his car, however, the younger brother of the cousin must accompany us. I've got a feeling the cousin didn't trust Mohammad to drive his newish late model red sport car all the way so he sent his little brother, Ahmad, along, the cousin also wanted a take in the fare which we agreed to pay an extra SYR1000 for the arrangement.

Defence Walls

The idea of an escort did not seem to bother Mohammad a bit, his eyes lit up like an excited child as he climbed into the driver's seat of his cousin's car, exploring all the gadgets and compartments with a child-like innocence. I think that was partly the reason why his cousins insisted on the escort, perhaps they were afraid that we would take advantage of Mohammad's naiveness.

The initial plan was for Mohammad to drive us back to our accommodation, which is about 40 minutes from Damascus to pick up our passports and then onto Tartus, but Mohammad had to run an errand on behalf of his cousin to bring his aunts their passports so they can travel to the neighbouring Lebanon for business. The passports were to be dropped off at the Syrian Expo Center near Damascus Airport, which is located at the other side of the city. With much time passed, we all agreed not bother with the passports, let's step head straight to the Qala'at, hurray!

Secret Passage

Thanks to the restoration effort by the French, the Qala'at was every bit the fantasy Crusader castle I have imagined - deep watery moat, thick defence wall, vaulted corridors, stone steps descend into dark underground chambers or cisterns, mysterious escape tunnel - awesome cannot even described my feeling. The best thing was that one could explore the Qala'at without restrictions, unlike historic ruins in Europe, it was enter at my own risk should I wish to check out where the dark underground steps lead to.

Courtyard

Before entering the Qala'at, an earnest looking Mohammad came up to us to say we must have his mobile phone number in case we couldn't find him later, it was very thoughtful of him and it was something either me or my travel companion have thought about. I couldn't explain it but I felt Mohammad's intentions were good and pure, his gesture made me realised that he regarded us as his guests and he took care of us as if we were his responsibility. I didn't doubt for a second that was what Mohammad is, a sweet and gentle human being with not a single wicked bone in his body.

Even till now I don't believe I have met anyone that is as genuine, sincere and most kind like Mohammad.

Outer Yard

The Syrian civil war broke out less than a year after I departed, each time I hear about the awful civilian casualty on the news, I thought about Mohammad and the people I met in Syria. I wanted to contact Mohammad but am afraid that it would do him more harm than good, as I suspect all communications would be monitored by the secret police, the only thing I could do is to pray for his safety, as well as the safety of his loved ones, and not let the carnage take away this man's goodness. I hope my prayers are heard.

Beautiful Strangers - Part II: Street Dogs from my Travel

Previous: Beautiful Strangers - Part I

Outside the Blue Mosque, Istanbul, Turkey, July 2010

This beautiful puppy, possibly a German Shepherd, was sleeping on the road near the Blue Mosque in Istanbul, not exactly the safest place to snooze yet there it was, sleeping so peacefully. Why is a dog this beautiful and young out on the street? If I live in Istanbul I would have taken this little puppy home already.

Banteay Srei, Cambodia, September 2010

This lone dog was seen hanging around the Bantaey Srei temple, part of Cambodia's Angkor complex, it is strange to only see a stray as usually outside these temples there would be more. It has interesting marking on its eye and I like the faint dots all over its body. The dog didn't give me a friendly feel so I kept a respectful distance.

Fisherman Village, Koh Samui, Thailand, October 2012

Like Batty, Dog lives in the hotel next door to mine on Fisherman's Village at Bophut Beach on Koh Samui, I don't think he belonged to the hotel officially but the hotel staff let him sleep there and feed him.

I met Dog when I took a dip in the small hotel pool, he stuck his head out from the bush that separate the two hotels and let out a bark at me. Perhaps the sound of my splashing woke him from his slumber? I called him and he came, that was when the nickname Dog got stuck. Dog was cautious at first but was happy for me to pat him and play, he particularly love chasing after baby coconuts.

Dog usually play on the beach with his buddies in the afternoon - a skinny yellow girl and a black Dachshund mix puppy, from nearby streets or hotels - it was a real joy to watch happy dogs running free. They'd play the game of tag with one another along the beach, digging for crabs or just madly digging, and sometimes can be seen climbing onto the deck chairs to snooze. Yellow Girl was happy for me to pat her but Puppy wasn't so sure, always running away when I approach.

I took this photo on my final day on the island, Dog was eating the breakfast dog biscuits which I bought from the nearby 7-Eleven, as a farewell gift I suppose. I also noticed he sustained an injury to his eye, which wasn't there before, poor baby, it looked painful... I think Dog will be ok, thank you, Dog, for being my friend.

Next: Beautiful Strangers - Part III

Beautiful Strangers - Part I: Street Dogs from my Travel

Street dogs roused my curiosity with their quest for survival in harsh urban environments - why are they there, how do they live, where did they come from and where will they go, who is looking out for them, when is their time up...

While I can't answer these questions, I try to befriend street dogs when possible and forge a friendship in the short amount of time that we share. I want my new friends to know there is someone in the world that love them and will be thinking about them, that they are not alone.

Here are their stories:

Viña del Mar, Chile, June 2007

I saw this beautiful stray on the pavement while walking along the waterfront in Viña, it was Winter and I was uncomfortable walking around with the wind constantly roaring in my ears. I just want to huddle up indoors but there it was, a dog sleeping soundly, outside. I had to fight an overwhelming urge to touch the dog, instead, I took a photo.

From the way the dog slept, I think it was trying to warm itself with its hind leg tucking under its body, I haven't seen this sleeping position before yet he dog was sleeping so peacefully I figured it must feel relatively safe and the unusual position must have been comfortable.

Viña del Mar, Chile, June 2007

Another beautiful stray in Viña. In fact, almost all the strays I saw in the area are so good looking I wonder if they were all former pets which left to roam the streets and fend for themselves when their owners no longer want them.

Kata Beach, Phuket, Thailand, September 2008

This collie looking stray was hanging around the small shopping strip at Kata Beach while I was holidaying in Phuket, it was friendly and looks like the locals are caring for the dog. Again, I wouldn't be surprised if this dog was a former pet as it is too pretty to be from the street. Thailand is the best country to be a stray dog, from my observations, the Thais are the kindest to strays comparing to other Asian countries.

Batty, Bora Bora, French Polynesia, February 2010

I nicknamed this friendly boy Batty because his mask-like marking on his head. Batty lives at the neighbouring hotel to where I stayed, the Novotel Bora Bora Beach Resort, he seem to have an access all area pass as he often sun himself on a deck chair by the pool, hanging around the resort's beachfront playing with hotel guests, lazing on the steps leading to the resort's restaurant in the evening and barking at other strays outside the main entrance of the resort.

Batty unofficially belonged to Novotel and I think the staff kept an eye out for the sweet natured stray, it was not the case when Batty venture across the territory to my hotel where the staff would shoo him away.

For the 2 days I befriended Batty he escorted me to the restaurant across the road from Novotel, patiently waiting while I dine, never once look at me with his sad doggy eyes like most dogs at dinner table. When encountered other strays, Batty let out warning bark as if to say stay away from my humans, I felt Batty was becoming fond of me and was protecting me.

Batty has some what look like battle scars all over his body, they are not pretty which make me wonder how he really lives, if someone or some dogs picking on him, it made me sad I can't protect him from harm. It also sadden me to know that for a dog that was born and live by the beach, Batty has a fear of the sea - he is happy to chase baby coconuts I throw along the beach but he will not go near the water.

At the end of my holidays, I shred silent tears as French Polynesia slowly disappeared from my air cabin window. I wish so much I could give Batty the love he craves and even better, a home, yet I can only give him my time and a piece of my heart.

I love you Batty and I will never forget you...

Next: Beautiful Strangers - Part II

Puppy Rescue in California by Hope For Paws

A heart warming story of the rescue of 3 three-months old puppies from their Californian roadside home by Mr Eldad Hagar of Hope For Paws, a Los Angeles based animal rescue ogranisation.

The puppies - Sydney, Mathilda and Gabriella - whose mother Gaia, gave birth after being abandoned on the highway, managed to raise the puppies in a roadside pipe with the help of 2 ladies. Unfortunately there was no happy ending for the mother as on the day of the rescue, Mr Hagar found her lying lifeless by an intersection after a hit and run accident.

The puppies were naturally scared due to the lack of contact with humans and took Mr Hagar more than 6 hours to coax and pull them out of their hiding place, however love is a wonderful thing, in the second video all three were happily and affectionately playing with their human minders. They are now waiting for a home at Bill Foundation.

Thank you for sharing Hope For Paws and Bill Foundation! Always remember - save a life, give a rescued dog a home!

Minazo and His Bucket

Minazo the seal and his famous blue bucket

I admit I was slightly obsessed after coming across E.T the talented Walrus in my previous post, I also found the above photo, featuring Minazo the Southern Elephant Seal and his famous blue bucket.

At first I couldn't believe what I saw and thought this must be the result of Photoshopping but I managed to find more information - Minazo lived and performed for a decade in an aquarium near Tokyo but sadly passed away in 2005.

The below is some sort of obituary published by Japan Times on 7 October 2005.

YOKOHAMA (Kyodo) Minazo, Japan's largest seal, died this week having charmed visitors for 10 1/2 years at Enoshima Aquarium in Fujisawa, Kanagawa Prefecture, aquarium officials said.

The 11-year-old male, 4.5-meters long and weighing about 2 tons, was the largest seal ever raised by a Japanese aquarium. The animal died Tuesday after its appetite began to rapidly weaken the day before, officials said. The cause of death was not immediately known.

Minazo was brought to Japan from Uruguay in 1995. The seal soon mastered a variety of comical feats, including a popular stunt in which he held a bucket with one flipper while sticking out his tongue.

Minazo quickly rose to stardom at the aquarium, where his three shows a day proved a hit with visitors.

The aquarium has set up a space in front of Minazo's water tank to allow visitors to leave flowers in Minazo's memory, the officials said.

I felt a mild sense of loss to have missed meeting this amazing creature by 8 years, on the other hand, I am aware that it was for human's entertainment that ultimately drove Minazo to his grave by wearing him down with frequent and demanding performances. The typical life-span of an Elephant Seal is 22 years.

RIP Minazo the bucket seal, thanks for leaving us with your wonderful images showcasing your quirky ways.

E.T the Talented Walrus

I have never seen one before but always was curious, now Walrus made it to my Top Ten loveable animal list, click PLAY and you will see why! Simply adorable and the facial expression priceless!

Thanks to Point Defiance Zoo & Aquarium in Tacoma, Washington, for sharing this clip!

It's Time To Go... (Evicted!)

The saying Home is where the heart is rings true when I received my second ever eviction notice in my life. It was met with disbelief at first and when reality sunk in, my first thought was OMG I am going be homeless, following by what's going to happen to me, where am I going to live, what is going to happen to my things...

ARGH, the joy of eviction!

Living in a country where the law is pro-landlord, I assume I am not alone being caught in this unfortunate situation. No matter how long the lease is signed, the landlords of Australia have the right to kick you out at any time with any excuses that suit them, they will serve you the correct eviction notice of course but that doesn't make things any better for the tenants.

It is not like I have not been the ideal tenant - rents are paid on time, property kept clean and treating it as if my own, fixing faults on walls and cupboards out of my expanses, taking great care not to ruin the floorboard and not bothering the real estate agent unless it is absolutely necessary. Eviction is what I've got!

For someone who has never been evicted will never know what it feels to not have a place where you can call home, a home for me is a place of where you can park all your anxiety, troubles, dangerous elements of the outside world at the door and be embraced by the feeling of warmth, comfort and security once through the door.

Living in a rented property is like borrowing time and the eviction notice is like terrorist attack for you'll never know when notices like these come. Yes I have liken landlords to terrorists, in this sense, the notice shook me to the core and left me shattered, the wound is easier to disguise but the effect is almost the same.

To rub salt to the wound, Winter is when the rental listing is the lowest, thus, the worst time for flat hunting, there's not much I can do but to start packing. I hate my landlord.

La propriété, c'est le vol!

When Friendship Break Up

After reading an article online about How it Feels to be Dumped by a Friend, I couldn't help but think of all the close friendships I have had over the years and wonder why I don't hear from these friends anymore, what went wrong with our friendships and why did it end the way it did?

While there have been many open discussions when romantic relationship ends, being dumped by friends are not often openly talked about, with friends. It is almost a social taboo even though the pain one feels when a friendship ends can be the same as being dumped by a lover.

I remember my first ever experience of being dumped, a primary school friend whose name and face I can no longer recall came up to me and declared she doesn't want to be my friend anymore. I remember thinking along the line of do you really had to tell me that?, I was more puzzled than hurt and was too young to dwell on it, but the memory stayed.

The first time I was truly hurt by being dumped came in my first year of high school, my best friend and I fought over a pen we found in an empty classroom, I can't remember who kept the prized find but my friend ignored me when we saw each other in class the next day and at the end of that day, she quietly told me that she vowed to never to speak to me again.

After that experience I didn't keep a best friend throughout my high school years.

One would think these experiences leave you when you grew out of your teenage years but no, I've been dumped during uni by friends who preferred their new boyfriends to me. Nothing was said, they simply just disappeared from my life and social circle, curling up in the blissful matrimony of a new relationship. Curiously, these fade-away friendship did not affect me as much as when someone declaring their contempt to my face.

I've also been dumped for giving good intended advice on a friend's relationship, as I simply cannot standby and watch my friend wasting her time and life away with someone she does not, and will not, love. In the end, she shut me out. As foreseen, the relationship did not last; I wonder if my lack of restrain was to blame, or my friend simply did not want to hear the truth. Whatever it was, I have lost a wonderful friendship.

More recently I have been dumped for, what I understood to be, suggesting a new date for a lunch appointment because I was busy on the requested date (removed as a Friend on Facebook), changing a lunch appointment (not picking up my calls or replying to my emails) and talking too much about offering to train a misbehaving pet (cold shoulder treatment the last time we met and never heard from again).

These behaviour came across as petty as well as immature, it doesn't cease to amaze me how fully grown adults can behave like school kids.

When friendship ends, I resent the fact that I couldn't talk about these hurt with mutual friends, these attempts were often met with awkward silence and blank stare. I get the fact that people tend to shy away from conflicts, yet it is seen as socially acceptable talk about a trashy ex lover rather than an ex friend.

At the end of the day I just have to accept life is a journey of delicate balance, especially dealing with my fellow human beings, a little bit of everything is good, too much of a good thing is bad when it is gone.

Free Julian Assange

Rapist or Crusader of the Truth? You decide.

The question for me is why are the prosecutors in Sweden pursuing Julian Assange relentlessly for such a insignificant crime? I used the word insignificant because the two women in questions - Anna Ardin and Sofia Wilén - are no longer interested in pursuing this case further.

I should also note that there is no charges are being laid, Sweden simply wanted Mr Assange for questioning.

Sweden has spent much time and resources, dating from October 2010, to have Mr Assange extradited to Sweden, I don't see why Sweden, in this day and age of the internet and video-teleconferencing, send its prosecutors to the UK to question Mr Assange? Wouldn't that be more efficient?

From this point of view, I think Sweden is not being honest about its agenda for Mr Assange.

The Cat Who Loves a Good Vacuum!

This got to be the most hilarious video I have ever seen, not only the cat is very overweight, it is not afraid of the loud vacuum cleaner noise but actually likes being vacuum on! Definitely one of the better way to clean a cat. Notice the expression of the cat and the wagging of its tail, it just loved it!

On a different note, I have the exact same vacuum cleaner, nice and light but the handle is fragile, the plastic broke after one year of usage - hurray for the two years warranty.

Thanks for sharing!

Dishonour Killings: Tribute to the Fallen Daughters

I watched a film last night called När Mörkret Faller, English title - When Darkness Falls, a Swedish film made in 2006, it got me thinking...

Especially moving was the story of Layla and Nina, teenage sisters belonging to a Middle Eastern ethnic group living in Sweden. Nina was later murdered by her male relatives because her father discovered a message left on her mobile phone was by a male friend, which he saw as an act of dishonouring the family by associating with boys before marriage.

Not only the image of Nina's violent death lingers in my mind but also the struggle of Layla, the younger sister who witnessed Nina's death, weighing her conscience against what is right and of her loyalty to her family. In the end, Layla put her life in danger by reporting the case to the police.

To make things worse, the girls' mother, whom they both adored and trusted, was in on the game when she lured Layla out of the safety of the police station to accept a cup of hot chocolate, spiked with drowsy substance, in order to get her out of the country, perhaps a fate similar to Nina's. It was also the mother who convinced Nina an arranged marriage in Germany would save the family's honour, tricking Nina into returning to the family from the safety of her refuge, sealing her fate.

The story is not just about murder but also of the betrayal of trust, by the female adults in the family, who failed to protect those in their care. Fortunately, it ended well for Layla, she is cut off from her family but gained a life and freedom of movement.

The film has a profound affect on me as I would never have imagined such violence and primitive practice can be carried out on loved ones - a daughter, sister, granddaughter, cousin or niece - let alone another human being, as these stories don't appear very often on the news media in my part of the world.

It got me thinking about honour killings and immigrant families again, I am proud to say that Australia has done well in integrating ethnic groups to the mainstream community, perhaps that is why the statistic for honour killings are significantly lower than countries with a large Middle Eastern and South Asian communities.

Take Sweden for example, ethnic groups and immigrants often live in a concentrated area, or ghetto if you like. In these area, many older immigrants lack Swedish language skill and understanding of Swedish way of life, creating prejudice in the mainstream society and further isolating them. I also think poor language skill and adequate resettlement education contribute to their failure to understand and accept the culture of the country they are in, in turns, rejecting the Westernised outlooks of the younger generations.

The most famous case being the murder of Kurdish woman Fadime Şahindal in 2002, who was shot dead by her father in front of her mother and sisters for defying his wishes to an arranged marriage in Turkey.

Stepping into these places is like stepping out of Sweden, it is no wonder some still have the mentality of the old country.

There are similar communities in Australia too, where pockets of migrant communities can be found throughout the suburbs of Sydney or Melbourne but comparing to Europe, the community is still more integrated and cannot be called a ghetto. Although crimes and violence are still present, but rarely crimes of honour killings, where the motivation behind it is purely selfish and served to save face, mostly to the male members of the family.

It is very unfortunate to be born a daughter into these families.

I also detest to the term Honour Killings, there is no honour to these killings, they are called MURDER.

Easter Egg

Classic, paper-made and beautifully illustrated, that's my Easter Egg.

Nothing beats a Northern European style Easter Egg where one can put different kinds of goodies in the hollow centre, a great way to give an environmental- or diet-friendly gift to family and friends during Easter.

Is Social Media Making Humans Behaving like Idiots?

I always complain that people who drive erratically in order to gain one or two minutes of their life only to waste it on using Facebook.

It may not the whole truth but it is most possible.

Anyone with a Facebook account can attest to this - one can spend hours just browsing through out-of-focus snaps (in another words, photos that should never have been published) or wonder why your friend never responded to your comments on their status updates. All done while facing a devise, instead of another human being.

Yet they called this a social network, most of the time I don't see anything social about it; in fact, it should be renamed as anti-social network.

I dare say most people have no clue, even to the point of almost naive, with online security when they sign up for social networks like Facebook, assuming the names in their Friend List are really friends but in reality just a sugar-coated label. Armed with this false sense of security, many let their guards down and often revealed too much information, forgetting sometimes these information can pass onto the wrong hands, like bullies, opportunist thieves, sex predators and anyone with unkind intentions.

Facebook has been mentioned in some of the teenage bully cases here in Australia, how the victims having not only to endure taunting at school, but to have this anti-social behaviour follow them to the safety of their own homes, when they logon to Facebook. The ones I have heard about resulted in the teens taking their own lives, makes me wonder how many out there are suffering in silence?

If social media is used as a platform for idiotic anti-social group behaviour, what is so social about this networking?

When told, many adults would wave their hands in the air saying the kids are just having fun, it is normal or kids are just being kids, does it imply that ridiculing someone without face-to-face contact is more acceptable?

I think not.

Social media is also the perfect platform for narcissists, everyone has at least one on their Facebook Friend List - the person who couldn't stop broadcasting information about themselves, usually by means of posting photos and status updates. I agree these people already exist in our society but social media magnifies this display like a loud speaker, I worry that people who read and see these display on social media and think it is as a perfectly acceptable normal everyday behaviour.

Narcissism is not quite an idiotic anti-social behaviour but it can be when everybody develop this me first and me want everything outlook, the sense of community and working together as one will be lost.

I accept that social media is not going to go away any time soon but I do hope that creators of social media acknowledge that they have a social responsibility to the public - to provide education on privacy and security matters, as well as sternly reminding the public to use the platform as a responsible and decent human being. As an ex-Facebook user, I hope to see that people realise that social media is an artificial environment which cannot be replaced by the warmth and genuineness of direct one-to-one human contact.

Thank You for the Music

The greatest song of all - I Will Always Love You by Whitney Houston.

Thank you for sharing your music with us Whitney, your songs were the soundtrack of my teenage years and helped me through many life's ups and downs.

Thank you God for sharing Whitney with us, having her for 48 years than not having her at all.

RIP Whitney Houston, I will always love you...

(Thank you Dolly Parton for writing this beautiful lyric).

Family Honour + Immigrant Families = ??

Recurring theme on film or horror story on the news?

The story always start off with the Westernised offspring of an immigrant family who wanted to go native and the family, usually conservative, would object. The offspring then not accepting or comply to the family's wishes, rebelled with the best outcome being disowned by the family, or worst, a homocide case for the police.

I've just watched Fighter, a Danish offshoot of the more well known Bend It Like Beckham, about daughters who went against their family's wishes in pursuing their dreams by participating in sporting activities which the family viewed as forbidden because it involved mingling with the opposite sex. Both were warned to be on their best behaviours at community events and not to bring shame to the family, both films ended with slight differences on how the main characters in handling the situation and their male family members.

On films the endings are usually acceptable to the audiences but stories I read on the news don't (maybe that's why they appear on the news in the first place), with headlines usually screamed Honour Killing.

These stories usually involved Westernised daughters of conservative immigrant families in the West taking in a lover, either a local (Caucasian), or someone different ethnic or religious background, defying the family's wish of marrying within the community. Sadly, the family see the act of love as bringing dishonour and shame, causing them to lose face and making them a pariah within their community because they couldn't control their daughters. Things usually don't end favourably for the daughters.

The culprits are usually the male family members and are almost exclusively of South Asian and Middle Eastern background.

I get that this may be the custom and ways of the homeland as it was what the adults were brought up with and have known all their lives.

What I don't understand is why do they choose to move to a land where they can't or refuse to accept the local ways? If they are not open to the thoughts their offspring and descendents adopting the Western life-style, why not migrate to another country with religion, culture and traditions similar to their own?

I am not talking about refugees as they did not choose to leave their land like migrants do. Migrants have a choice.

People migrate for economical reasons and better future opportunities for their children, but it seems that they wanted the best of both worlds: mindset of the old country and better life in the new country. Unfortunately it is always the 1.5 and the second generation who cop the blunt of family's furor - an upstream struggle between the notion of family unit of the old and of individuality that's favourable in the West. Fortunately this mentality usually die with the first few generations and like colour in water, slowly diluting as the water flow, until you don't see it anymore.

Family Honour + Immigrant Families = Daughters' Burden

It is Called "No-frill" for a Reason!

The term no-frills is associated by most as cheap and budget. It is the case when it comes to travel - no-frills, budget or low cost - carriers allows many to see many different parts of the world for the first time, or even being inside an aeroplane for the first time.

These carriers often aggressively market themselves to the general public as you only pay for what you need, in another word, you will pay extra for the privilege in choosing a desired seat, have your luggage check-in, inflight snacks and drinks serve to you, the availability of inflight entertainment; all on top of what is perceived as cheap airfares comparing to full-serviced carriers, like Qantas.

Budget carriers, especially Jetstar, should come with a health warning label to all customers, like warning the user on potential hazard of overdosing, because budget carriers can inflict real health hazard like stress and fatigue when it fails to deliver what it promised - getting you there.

Jetstar has been stellar one fine August morning for the unfortunate passengers of JQ8. Scheduled and prepared to land in Melbourne at 06:45am after an 8 hours flight, it was diverted to Sydney due to fog, the flight expected to return to Melbourne at 11:00am. JQ8 arrived in Sydney at 08:54am, sat on the tarmac with all passengers strapped onto their seats, for 2 hours nothing was convey to them what will happen and if the flight will take off once given the all clear.

Finally the passengers were told to disembark because of some regulations concerning the aircraft, but without further information on when or how they will get to Melbourne. For more than an hour at the hectic international waiting lounge, there weren't any Jetstar ground staff to be found.

The passengers were then told to clear immigration and custom, and were told to wait at the Jetstar check-in counters. At midday meal vouchers were distributed and hope renewed with the announcement of boarding information, accordingly a replacement aircraft will fly the stranded passengers to the correct destination. A few moments later, another announcement told the passengers Jetstar will accommodate them in hotels should a replacement aircraft is not found.

After hanging around as the clock ticked by without further information if the passengers will get to Melbourne on the same day, Jetstar finally announced that they will be boarding at around 15:00pm and passengers were told to proceed to check-in. The flight finally took off an hour later and landed in Melbourne in late afternoon. The total delay is around 8 hours, enough for the aircraft to fly back to Singapore.

Imagine that, all these hassle because of a lousy fog caused by mother natural, but the worst thing from this ordeal is something which humans, in this case Jetstar, can control: the lack of communications, and that is what I called no-frill no thrill.