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Hurrah! I have finished with
work. Been spending the past few weeks back home and shopping for uni, meeting
friends, etc. My aunt invited me to watch The
King And I on Saturday. I enjoyed the performance. The set was splendid,
and the choreography excellent. Particularly noteworthy was the choreography of
the musical-within-a-musical, The Small
House Of Uncle Thomas. It was a slightly more modern version of the
original movie choreography. As it has been nearly a decade since I watched the
movie, I shall refrain from comparison.
Somewhere in the middle of the
performance, King Mongkut seemed to have trouble with a quick costume change. I
believe the mic was still on backstage, and we could here a muffled curse as
Anna and the Prime Minister attempted to buy time onstage with an awkward
conversation (not entirely ineffective, as their characters were not on good
terms anyway). However, the performers had put so much effort into creating the
atmosphere of a regal yet comically problematic Siamese court that my mind
quickly erased the error. Perhaps I’m just forgiving, but I didn’t realize it
had even happened until after the performance when I reflected on the
episode.
Other events include a trip to
Fraser’s Hill last week with my ex-roomies. Two of them will still stay with me
this year, only separate rooms in the same hostel. One will fly off to US in
August. It was a semi-prayer retreat, so on the second day we walked two hours
(6-8km) to Jeriau Waterfall and spent some time in silence talking to God and
gazing at the majestic shower falling in a torrent from 20metres up. The mist
from the fall was so cold that we wore jackets while eating a picnic lunch
under the midday sun. After the time in prayer and meditation we played in the
waterfall. The water was only calf-deep directly beneath the cascade and flowed
on ankle deep, swift and cold though shallow. Standing beneath it was like
getting pounded by ten hands at once. Get an OSIM massage chair to beat that!
Water droplets falling from that height felt as sharp as needles.
We had walked downhill the entire
way to get to the waterfall. After getting into dry clothes, we suddenly
realized what that meant coming back in the heat of the afternoon (afternoons
are now warm even in the foothills of Titiwangsa). Fortunately, we got a ride
for the last quarter of our journey from two sympathetic KL women who had “just
come out for a drive.” Apparently some people like navigating the hairpin bends
of Fraser’s.
We came down on a public bus, an
experience which I think would feel similar to being in a small boat going over
large, open-ocean swells. I sometimes found myself looking into the depths of
the mountain valley, as the bus careered round the bend, not exactly hugging
the cliff side. I had to keep one hand on the railing at all times, to keep
from sliding off my seat.
A tip: following the road with
your head is an excellent way of staving off motion-sickness. If the road
curves right, tip your head right (and left for left, of course). Maybe inertia
gives you the sensation that you are moving left (specifically, inertia in the
liquid in the inner ear which aids in balance), but your eyes tell you you’re
moving right, so that’s why you get dizzy. I’m not sure, I’m just rubbishing
here. Well, whatever it is, moving your head helps cheat that dizzy, sensation.
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