Before the 2009 Countdown

Before the countdown on New Year’s Eve, I habitually spend a few minutes evaluating the past twelve months. Usually, I focus only on the positive and gloss over the negative. When I was younger, I used to put down the names of all the handsome guys I’d met during the year. This time, however, I decided to make a list of all the things I’d never done before. In order to spare the reader the entire list, here are just a few examples:

• I’d never had a Master’s.
• I’d never been married.
• I’d never been to Asia.
• I’d never practiced yoga and meditation.
• I’d never sat on an elephant’s back.
• I’d never eaten nor cooked chicken curry.
• I’d never seen a jellyfish.
• I’d never been to a dolphin show.
• I’d never climbed a 4000m mountain.

The year 2009 has been so much different from all the previous years. (As if Reality decided to finally make a point.) It has been both un año fenomenal and un año fatal.

I wonder how much Prague has changed since we last saw it from the aircraft window at the Ruzyne airport. Call me sceptical, but I suspect it hasn’t changed at all. Prague has this fantastic quality of remaining unchanged on the inside, while everything changes on the outside. I guess there’ll be a few more high-rise buildings at Pankrac, the capital’s La Défense. No doubt, the suburbs will have expanded again, with several new villas built for the wealthy. However, I suspect that on the inside everything will be the same old story. Waiters in lovely, old cafés will greet us, just like they did before, with their unmistakable frown. I think it is then that I will miss Asia the most.

Life is a Cabaret, old chum...

Last week, Insead organised another series of the popular Cabaret show. For one evening, former consultants, bankers, and analysts turned into actors, singers, and performers.


First of all, I need to admit I am a very picky theatre-goer and in all forms of art, from books to films, I always look for unusual introductions and unexpected endings. (I love to be surprised.) Given the circumstances, I think the Cabaret was a huge success. My only objection is I found the opening scene both boring, and instantly forgettable.


The show opened with Patrick Turner, an Insead professor, reading a letter signed by the faculty. The letter deplored the poor quality of Insead parties and the general abuse of alcohol. The Cabaret, he read, was to be cancelled with immediate effect because it could bring about the downfall of Insead’s reputation.


The audience gave Patrick a disapproving hiss.


Before Patrick could finish the letter, Maroje and Kimberley furiously marched on stage. Both compères gave the professor an evil glare and made him stop reading. With the help of several other students, the professor was silenced and hijacked from the stage. The curtain went up and the actual Cabaret began.


***


This kind of introduction didn’t surprise me in the slightest – I guess I’ve seen a similar joke at least ten times in ten different school cabarets. Moreover, I did not even find it very pertinent here. Firstly, it was too reminiscent of high school times when drinking or smoking was prohibited. But how could you possibly expect Insead students not to drink, especially if they can afford alcohol in Singapore, and are able to reconcile night life with their school obligations?


Secondly, if you’d really like to create an accepted illusion that the show has been cancelled, how would you do it? Would you appear on stage, right in the spotlight, using a microphone, with your suit on? Would you wait until everyone is quiet and read from a carefully folded paper?


Of course you wouldn’t.


In order to create such make-believe, you first need to cause general confusion, e.g. by leaving all the lights on. Then you need to stand somewhere at the periphery of the stage, and try to silence the crowd by explaining what has happened. It is expected that nobody will understand what you are saying and very few will actually listen. To increase the effect, someone can bring you a mike, as if to make you stop shouting. Next, you apologise and ask all the actors to come from behind the scenes. In an attempt to ‘remedy’ the situation, you invite everyone to attend an alternative event, perhaps an improvised party somewhere in town. The tension will be the strongest when only part of the crew will know about the practical joke.


For a few minutes, take pleasure in the overall confusion and wait until the audience actually starts leaving. In the hallway, most people will probably gather in small groups to discuss what the f*** is going on. Only now, switch the hallway lights off, re-play the ‘Life is a Cabaret’ song and have a group of actors come to perform right in front of the confused crowd.


That said, my alternate scenario could easily turn into a bad taste joke. I’m afraid some people might not appreciate it. It would also require a lot of effort to prepare the logistics. However, I cannot help thinking what it would be like, to step outside the well-defined borders. For me (an 'Insead partner'), the question is not so much, ‘Are we Harvard… or are we Insead?’ but rather, ‘Are we a business school… or are we a business school?’

The impact of Singapore Sling

Although I know I will miss Singapore enormously, I am actually quite glad that the Southeast adventure will soon be over. The reason is that there is one mystical transformation I have been going through since we arrived here....

Voices of Harmony... and the other voices

Last Friday night, we went to see a Chinese-Singaporean Buddhist show, the charity concert organised by Kong Meng San Phor Kark See Monastery. Once in three years, the monastery sponsors an event with the aim to raise funds for their Free Buddhist Clinic.


The event turned out to be slightly more eclectic than we had expected.

Balinese cockfighting

On the way through one Balinese village, we caught a glimpse of a traditional cock-fighting match at the entrance to a Hindu temple. Men, gathered in a small circle, eagerly applauded, shouted and exchanged banknotes among themselves. Women and children were waiting inside the temple, occasionally peeping through the narrow door in the wall that separated the two areas.

Most exquisite coffee in the world

In case you’ve seen the Bucket List, there is no point reading further. You will only struggle with my broken English-laaa. Singaporeans would, however, never admit they speak Singlish. O’ cos we spikinglish-laaa.

For the first time in my life, I saw coffee beans growing on a tree, about the size of a 5 year-old child.

The Sulphurs of Ijen

(For more pictures from this trip, click here.)

Just after sunrise, we leave Catimor homestay at the coffee factory and set out for the Ijen volcano. The ride takes just under an hour, but we tell the driver to pull over several times: the landscape is just too mesmerizing not to form part of our photo albums. The pastel colours are reminiscent of Europe in early October. Brown is the dominant colour, with dozens of shades of black, and white. The air is chilly, though not as cold as during the sunrise at Mount Bromo the day before.

So, what is Singapore like?

Here are some questions I've been asked about Singapore.
I decided to answer them in a visual way.

On Pinocchioness

Is it weird that I see tao in yoga classes?

Breathing in and out through the nose ('Mary-had-a-little-lamb') which I never used to do before makes me a bit dizzy after a few minutes, even sort of high at times. When I was four I had to undergo a surgery because my nose tonsil was too swollen and I could not breathe properly. Most of the time I was short of breath. The only kind of breathing I could do was though my mouth. I still remember running though the hospital hall, holding my red shoes by their shoestrings.

On the Malaysian Hijab

Observing modern Malay women is a treat for the eyes.

In Kuala Lumpur, from what I have seen almost all Malay (i.e. not Indian, Chinese or Farang) women wear the hijab and some of them are covered from head to toe in a black niqab that only displays the woman's eyes, hands, and feet.

Elephant Owner for a Day

Extinction is forever.

The curious traveller in Thailand is often faced with a difficult choice: where do you draw the line between having fun and enjoying the country's myriad attractions on the one hand, and on the other, being part of the problem and contributing to the exploitation of local tribal communities and to deforestation? If endangered animals are to die out, I found myself asking whether it is ethical to watch dolphin shows, elephants standing on two feet, monkeys riding bicycles. Is it ethical to visit a jungle tribe or not? Is it moral to bring your money, customs and views and forever change the local way of life?

My Asian Summer

I will always remember my 'Asian summer' of 2009 as a crash course into world religions. As a time when I set foot to places of worship of the four most predominant world faiths.

Krížom-krážom po Ázii / Discovering Asia

Phnom Penh

Take a deep breath. Warm, humid, sticky air. You’re here.

From the bird eye’s view the Mekong River encompassing the city looks like legs of an old woman, crooked and spread wide, not caring anymore who is raping her. Cocoa-brown water is spilled just everywhere. Little patches of greenery here and there, but Water is really the major element here. Not Sun, frying the black sweating heads of peddlers, pushing slowly their food carts. Not Earth, disfigured by thousands of explosions of old landmines. Not wind, sweeping dust and exhaust fumes into your face. It is the omnipresent Water that makes a difference here.