you don't say...

"u.s. the most unfriendly country to visitors"

Rude immigration officials and visa delays keep millions of foreign visitors away from the United States, hurt the country's already battered image, and cost the U.S. billions of dollars in lost revenue.

The Discover America Partnership released the result of a global survey on November 20 which showed that international travelers see the United States as the world's worst country in terms of getting a visa and, once you have it, making your way past rude immigration officials.

The survey, of 2,011 international travelers in 16 countries, was conducted by RT Strategies, a Virginia-based polling firm, for the Discover America Partnership, a group launched in September with multimillion-dollar backing from a range of companies that include the InterContinental Hotels Group, Anheuser Busch and Walt Disney Parks and Resorts.

More than half of the travelers surveyed said U.S. immigration officials were rude and two-thirds said they feared they would be detained on arriving in the United States for a simple mistake in their paperwork or for saying the wrong thing to an immigration official.

The survey was taken between October 25 and November 9 against the backdrop of growing concern in parts of the U.S. business community over a steady decline in the number of foreigners visiting the United States.

-- Associated Press, November 06 --

i don't need a published survey to convince me that the us of a is THE unfriendliest place to visit. i experienced their brand of 'hospitality' first hand.

we were living in halifax for most of ramadhan and thought, "hey, since the weather's getting real crappy up north and since we have friends over in nyc, why not go visit them for hari raya?" anticipating rendangs and ketupats, we packed our bags, emptied our bowels and merrily skipped out the door. that happiness was... shortlived.

the first mistake we made was going through the u.s. immigration as husband and wife. he has p.r. status and i, well, i have yet to petition for mine so the fact that i wanted to get into their self-proclaimed 'great' land for a mere visit, was to them, highly suspicious. "you have a husband who is a permanent resident and you're NOT thinking of settling down and working in the states? something doesn't sound right here. we need to get to the bottom of this." yes, mr. bush and his loyal gate-keepers (a.k.a the immigration and naturalization service), with all of their pompous arrogance and illusions of grandeur, seem to believe that every single person who comes a-knocking, wants to call the u.s. 'home' and those who claim otherwise are simply, in their words, "hiding something."

we we held up for more than 6 hours at the halifax airport (u.s. immigration clearance was done there) without food nor water. no one asked whether we wanted to use the bathroom. a certain minah hitam who was given more power than she could muster, sat me down on the 'hot' chair and goaded me with her puffed up friendliness, hoping i could give the kind of statements she wanted to hear.

"why do you only have a few items of clothings?"
"i have more. you're not looking at the right places. let me show them to you."
"no, no, i know what i saw. i'm very perceptive."
"why don't you want me to show them to you?"
"i know what i saw."

i read 'my' written statement and was completely blown away. facts were wrong -- my birth date, my wedding date, my previous date of entry to the u.s. icing on the cake, she distorted and fabricated most of the information i provided in order to back her suspicion that i wanted to enter the states with the intention of illegally overstaying my visit. i had only one thought running in my head at that particular instance -- "thank God i know english." these people are damien evil, pure devil incarnates, they only see what they want to see and believe what they want to believe.

they decided to revoke my visa so yes, that's when all hell broke loose. i may look like a dim light bulb but trust me, they messed with the wrong 'alien.' am an honorable couch potato so i knew my rights. infront of her supervisor, i challenged the written statement and asked that she change her version or i wouldn't sign the damn papers. she balked, made faces but i stood my ground. trust me, i was scared to death, scared that they'll call my bluff and haul my ass straight to jail. but i looked her straight in the eyes and silently told myself, "you can do this, you can do this. you can't let them win."

neither of us won that day. my visa was left intact but i was still denied entry. my dignity was to say the least, left in smithereens, my energy drained. worst of all, i came away from that experience with a deep sense of hatred for the country i once respected. what is it about post 9/11 america -- who exactly gave them the right to assume that they are far superior than the rest of us mankind? what happy pill are they on to make them believe that even after the mess they've created in iraq, the world is still marching to the beat of THEIR drum? what makes them think that you and i are still willing participants in their war against terror? who exactly are they kidding?

"we are merely looking out for ourselves..." yes, i know you are. every tom, dick and sally seem to be looking out for their own 'behinds' these days. but here's a thought -- if you keep yourself so focused on what's behind, you may lose sight of what's ahead. and sometimes, we gotta move forward to be able to live the life we really want to live. without fear nor prejudice, free of arrogance and tyrants.

america needs to come down from their 'holier than thou' resting place. soon. maybe not today, or tomorrow, but at least soon enough before someone decides to once again, pull the cozy rug from under them. and if that happens, the u.s. will no longer be the most unfriendly country to visitors, it will be a country no one will ever want to go visit...

*for the record, we celebrated hari raya at an indian buffet in bermuda

'tis shall pass...

Oh, lift up thankful eyes, dear friend!

Count equal, loss and gain;

Because, as long as the world lasts,

Green leaves will come again.

— Dinah Muloch Craik

to my dearest friend, B, who's about to go through a messy divorce, chin up and be strong okay? am sorry i can't be there to hold your hand or to shout profanities outside of the mahkamah syariah but i know a few brickfields thugs who would love the opportunity to do some major damage to 'thy neighbor'...

sonya is one lucky lil' lady to have you as her mommy. and the next person who holds your heart... will be a better man. insyaallah.

hammer time!

i love abc's dancing with the stars!! and i love that underdogs emmitt and cheryl won... makes me believe that champions are not always born, they are mostly bred.

malaysia should put this show on air. am pretty damn sure nik aziz wouldn't approve but hey, at least we'll be happily dancing all the way to hell :)

little house on the island

every 'stand alone' home on this tiny island has a unique name -- saratoga, morning light, why not, mizzentop, sundeck, chameleon -- the list is as eclectic as it can get. i have no idea why that is but i suspect it has something to do with the fact that bermudians have so much free time on their hands. tell a cab driver the name of the house you're heading to, the road it's on, which parish it's located at (warwick, flatts, devonshire, etc.) and you're all set.

our lil newfound cottage is called SHARMIC. i don't particularly like the given name but hey, since we're mere tenants, we gots to live with it lah. if it's up to us (okay, me) she'll be called something lame and ridiculous like sendiri bayar sendiri duduk or bunga-bunga cinta bertaburan...

we were looking for something unfurnished, with two bedrooms or more, wood flooring, a lawn... view of the sea, in a certain price range. first there was the house right next to the main street and discount supermarket (bising giler!), then it was the one with too many stairs to climb (my mom and her lututs would curse me for sure), then we looked at... hell, there were too many properties to remember. we even saw one with pink wall-to-wall carpeting. PINK! by the 11th house, we were losing hope. then nakia, our friendly neighborhood real estate agent called us, "hey you're gonna love this house. it just got back on the market. your luck!"

our luck indeed. we fell in love with sharmic without even stepping inside. newly renovated, 3-bedrooms, spacious living room, fab kitchen, huge lawn, great neighborhood -- score!! we were ecstatic... until we encountered the 'bathroom situation.'

sharmic has only ONE potty pot and for those who know us as a couple, you'll know we're gonna have massive marital woes because of this. let's just put it this way -- he 'reads' a lot in there and me, well, i just don't like to be interrupted during my 'sessions.' imagine the endless knocks, the shouts, the wailing outside the door... am getting an anxiety attack just thinking about it. and that's just when it's the two of us... i can't even fathom the thought of having people in the house, when my rombongan cik kiah from malaysia comes to visit. definitely not a pretty sight.

sharmic means long-lived and infinite in sanskrit. a good name, a good start. so after some thought, here's what i propose: let's live and let live. one bathroom, no problem... we'll just roll with the punches (literally). after all, life is all about riding the wave and learning to adapt. not everything will go as we conjured it in our heads, no matter how meticulous the planning was. in this instance, we just have to bersyukur with what we have and berdoa that our lil sharmic will live up to its given name. and if all else fails, there's always that massive lawn i kept telling you about... :)

go get em' girls!!

i can't believe am saying this but i WANT and NEED my malaysian tv!! my two best bitches zab and joejer are taking part in amazing race asia and although am their official pom-pom girl... am not able to watch any part of their exciting adventure!! wtf man!!! aku nak astro!!! hwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!

things that make me go "wtf??!!!..."

1. internet access that's down for more than a lousy week
2. a 10-year old boy whispering "hey gorgeous" when i passed him on the street
3. being able to send shitloads of sms-es back home and getting practically zero in return
4. not being able to eat cabai burung for almost a month now
5. watching that hottie karina smirnoff pull a 'cirque du soleil' on the dancefloor without breaking her spine
6. my 'inventive' cooking

girls just wanna have fun

"when i was just a child in school,

i asked my teacher what should i try?

should i paint pictures? should i sing songs? this was her wise reply:

que sera sera -- whatever will be will be.

the future's not ours to see, que sera sera -- what will, will be."

what did i wanna become? i remember filling out borang kerjaya in standard three -- 1.policewoman 2.bus mini conductor 3.penyanyi. am pretty damn sure the teacher thought i was a moron coz everyone else wanted to be either a doctor or a lawyer... but hey, i stuck to my guns. those ambitions to me, were pure, and if nothing else, original.

and what did i end up becoming 22 years later? none of the above of course (seriously, can you imagine me as perempuan kaberet? don't aswer that). instead, i chose a different route. these days, am an official minah rempit...

here in bermuda, where the roads are winding and narrow, everyone rides the scooter. rich, poor, black, white, islander, visitor... they all bike. forget trying to channel the expertise of valentino rossi or carlos checa at every corner and turn, the popular mode of transportation here is mostly the 50cc scooter. cuba la melenjan selagi tak mahu, it can only go so fast.

lemme tell you, i was downright apprehensive about jumping into the back seat at first -- hell, who'd want to be in a position where you have no control over where you're going or when you're scrapping the tar roads?! but as soon as the engine's gunned and the perfect island breeze touched my face, i was sold. rambut penyet and bontot memang la sakit, terhenjut-henjut ke sana ke mari but man, was i having the time of my life. you know that feeling when you're riding your bicycle down the hill with no hands on the handlebars? going on a scooter is a hundred times better...

now i completely understand why those minah rempits around jalan tuanku abdul rahman always have that silly smile plastered on their faces everytime the mats take them for a spin. forget ambition -- a sense of adventure alone will get you places :)

*now... can we afford that vespa lx?

cuti-cuti bermuda

the jury has spoken -- we are moving to sunny bermuda next week!! put away that smelly stained jacket and let's whip out a flirty bikini babeeeeey!!!!
who's with me? who's with me??!!

"I see no truth whatsoever in stories of extraterrestrial visitors, crop circles, the bermuda triangle, or many of the other 'mysteries' that permeate pop culture."
-dan brown

regretrospective

okay am a klepto. no, no, not krypto(nite) like superman. klepto, like a thief. what the fuck you say? yessss... i steal things. stole things. past tense. i've exorcised myself from that nasty habit a while back and am happy to report that... i'm fully cured. okay, okay, semi-cured. geez... can i lie already? it's MY blog...

it started when i was in secondary school. i blame it on my friend, let's just call her A. it was a rainy day, all of us girls stuck in our dorm with nowhere to go. before anyone had the chance to turn on the radio to listen to fiona by 4u2c, A then bukak cerita about another fateful rainy day when she had to steal a payung from yaohan the mall, 'the' hippest hang-out in kl at the time. we all gasped and she quickly came to her own defense claiming, "bukan aku nak beb, tapi terpaksa... hujan lebat masa tu, aku takde payung... camna nak balik sekolah." she walked in, picked a color, then walked out. no alarmed sounded, nothing happened. the pak guard even helped her open the umbrella at the front entrance. most of us looked at her in horror. i looked at her with wonder.

i wouldn't call myself a criminal -- i don't go for the big stuff and i lay off money and food. hey, i may be a crook but i've got principles okay? i take things that i believe (in my own distorted mind) are tagged way more expensive than what it should be. say a pencil is worth 50cents but because it's sold in a fancy shop, the price skyrockets to $3. this to me is a complete injustice. what is the solution to this problem? steal it. not that i couldn't afford the damned pencil but once again, it's about basic principles. "penjual tidak sepatutnya menipu pembeli." i learned that in perdagangan in form 2. who ever said m'sia has a bad education system?

a friend once dared me to steal from fao schwartz, that giant toystore in nyc. i was like, "are you nuts? am gonna get caught la wei!!" he just looked at me and i looked back at him. then i snuck something in my jacket pocket and walked out. smiling, with no alarm blarring. i never felt more alive.

those days are long gone believe you me. am too old for that cat and mouse game. my boobs are sagging, i got nothing to distract the authorities. but yesterday, as i was walking around this lil canadian town, the klepto-ness in me, started to resurface.

it's not like i wanted to really steal anything. i mean, hello??? it's halifax for god's sake, what is there worth stealing??!! yeah yeah, it's pretty and all but you can't steal beauty. believe it or not, the ol' thief in me just wanted some attention, to get some decent conversation out of the other person. okay "you have the right to remain silent..." is not really a good ice breaker but gimme something already! anything!

i've always led a full life -- friends, family, pyschos... am never alone. whenever i needed to talk, to hear a story, laugh, cry, vent, i've always had someone for every occassion. my world was never silent. some people have quiet dreams, i can't find the mute button to mine. but for more than a month now, am living my worst nightmare -- decent conversation out, small talk in. i don't expect the checkout girl at the atlantic supermarket to understand my need for cabai burung, but come on, at least look me in the eyes when you're dissing me. no one seems to care about what i have to say anymore. and dammit, that makes me wanna steal something.

at least when i get caught, the shopkeeper would ask me questions like "why did you do it, how many bic pens did you take, what kind of an idiot are you" and by the time the police officer gets in, i'll already be on a roll. think about it, there i am in the backseat of a squadcar, looking all doe-eyed and innocent... man, the possibilities are endless. we could talk about that two-way radio mounted on the dashboard, the high-tech global positioning system, he could even let me play with the sirens (okay, i watch too much csi i know). and when we get to the station, we could, over coffee and doughnut, discuss condi rice and her supposed romantic relationship with the canadian foreign affairs minister, mr. peter mackay. "that gatal bitch, has she no shame?" we could laugh, talk some more and then he could throw me into the lock-up. yay... more friends!!

the point am trying to drive home is this -- i miss my buddies back home. yes, YOU.

being here for more than a month already, without any real friends to call my own, am reduced to having impersonal conversations with those i meet daily, complete strangers mostly. here's the thing, people who know me know that i don't do impersonal -- 10 minutes with me and all your cerita maknenek will come out. yes, am that good of a kepochi. but because i know i won't be here that much longer, i refuse to make the extra effort to be all chummy with all the mat and minah sallehs, to ask anything beyond the weather. fine and dandy right, no strings attached? wrong. my life now becomes superficial -- no more meaningful conversations, no real depth to any human interaction. this kinda lifestyle is so excruciatingly painful to me, it's almost as if i am watching that malaysian all-girl group, elite, lip-sync on stage.

for the record, no i did not steal anything. but i have to tell you, am getting awfully desperate. with no friends, no heartfelt one-on-ones... a girl can definitely break under pressure. but if and when i do succumb to the devil, i'm gonna blame it all on YOU for abandoning me like this. and when that day comes, you damn well better be ready will bail money...

i ain't leavin no one behind y'all!

to all my friends who are in love or think they're in love... or infact, just too in love with themselves, take 5min 23sec to listen to tony bennett and george michael's rendition of "how do you keep the music playing?" tangkap cintan gua cakap lu...

and for all you old foggies who need a slapstick picker-upper (translation: your bladder needs a good release), go to http://youtube.com/ and type "evolution of dance." pasti terkincit!

enjoys :)

family matters

i've always loved Ramadhan. i'm the last person to call myself pious but come fasting month, i see that opinionated punk in the mirror changing into a better being. i become less bitchy, i forgive and forget at a much faster rate, i try to be more of a giver than a taker and i even make it a point to perfom REAL solat, not the patuk ayam kind my big sis does on a daily basis. Ramadhan brings out the best in silly, selfish ol' me.

i remember my endless complaints about the usually predictable heatwave and haze in m'sia, "woi panasnya, macam mana nak puasa ni..." but now that am so far away from home, in a place where the sun is everyone's best friend, i begin to really wonder why Ramadhans mean so much to me.

one word. family.

my best memory of my dad was at a pasar pagi in sentul many many years ago, way back when he was still working as a government officer in bukit kerajaan. we were trying to find our way back to the car when we saw a group of people circling a man auctioning off a huge array of cheap toys. i was to put it mildly, giler happy.

we didn't have lotsa money, there were six of us kids to feed (we all makan banyak) and a single breadwinner, so being the last in my family, i never expected much. but on that beautiful sunday, ayah turned to me and said, "nak tak?" it was just the two of us, daddy and his little girl, so i nodded my head gleefully. We went home with a made in china doll waaaay bigger than barbie, with eyes that shut everytime i lay her down. i don't remember how much he paid for it but i vividly remember looking up at him thinking, "what did i do right to have this cool guy as my dad?" so cool he's the reason why my sisters and i mencarut so much while driving -- dimana tumpahnya kuah kari kalau tidak ke nasi?

because of him, my mom, my wacky sisters, my two brothers i don't quite know anymore and that noisy bunch i fondly call my anak-anak sedara, i always make it a point to be a 'good girl' during the holiest month on the muslim calendar. that's the only way i believe i can get Allah Taala to hear and grant my prayers -- for the clan to experience the kind of love and happiness i felt that sunday morning in sentul.

this Ramadhan i am without them. they're thousands of miles away, eating good food (my sis had the nerve to brag about that ayam percik she bought in kampung baru... babi!) and looking forward to hari raya. me on the other hand, i'm forced to go through bulan puasa without the usual suspects. well, hmmmm, not technically...

there's this person that keeps hovering round my back everytime i'm in the kitchen now, glaring at me coz i tried to soak and thaw the frozen mackerel with hot water (who the hell cares if the fish is half cooked when you take it out?!)... and eyeing my food come break fast coz he's halfway done with his when am just starting to savor my nasi goreng lembik. this anal retentive person is still a stranger to me but somewhere between arguing about who's doing the laundry or laughing out loud at ladonna and shanehneh's antics on maury, i've come to realize that my family has expanded. i now have another reason to be 'Ramadhan's employee of the month' :)

"the only way to get to know a man is to live with him 24/7." i have to say, am still learning and discovering new things about this particular member of my family -- his orchestrated snoring, his wonderful cooking, his faith in my ability to help change the world. with him in my life, i have a feeling am gonna have so many more of those beautiful sentul mornings, Ramadhan or otherwise.

as for my 'real' family back home, i hope they choke on their chicken kuzi while watching sembilu 2 and/or tragedi oktober. and once they're done coughing, spitting water and saying "eh sape sebut? sape sebut?" i sincerely wish my face is the only one that comes to mind. the once-a-year 'good girl' who wishes them only the very best, dunia dan akhirat.

selamat hari raya aidilfitri, maaf zahir & batin :)

p/s chocfudge, thanks so much for the link http://www.quranexplorer.com ... real helpful for people yang dok merangkak baca Quran like me!

letter to graydon carter

i never thought writing can be this hard. i mean, come on, i've written tens of thousands of scripts for tv before (ok, that's a lie, the thousands part). but this... blogging, this is hard. people could actually read my thoughts. REAL people. and they are allowed to have opinions too!!

i didn't know that am gonna have to invest so much of thought into writing -- i wanted my blog to look and sound frivolous, as if i didnt put any effort into it. i wanted to sound blase... like those cool people i aspire to become (case in point a particular doctor mcSTEAMY on grey's, and don't confuse him with doctor mcDREAMY though both are mcLICIOUS) then i realized, hell, if i sounded frivolous, people might think i'm stoopid. which am soooo not. am not!!! ok, just shut it.

let's face it, am a simple girl. i like ice-cream, i thank God everyday for justin timberlake, i think post-it notes is the best humanly invention (next to heinz ketchup of course), i love trashy tabloids and i'd choose that snazzy bang&olufsen entertainment system anyday over diamonds and pearls. so riddle me this -- how does a simple girl who's trying to make it in the big, bold world of blogging, not sound frivolous?

i pondered long and hard (ok, lie again, maggie assam laksa doesn't take that long to cook) and the answer still eludes me. so until that day comes, am gonna stick to being me. to write what comes to mind, to wear my heart on my sleeve, to continue to fight for the rights of paparazzis everywhere, to continue to sound... absolutely frivolous.

peace out yo!

p/s i'd like to give a shout out to "mimi bengkang" for inspiring me to be all that i can be... hahaha!!!

"I Carry Your Heart With Me"

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart)
i am never without it (anywhere i go you go my dear and whatever is done by me is your doing, my darling)

i fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet)
i want no world (for beautiful, you are my world, my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life which grows higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

-ee cummings

i gotta say it -- i'm not one who reads poems much less understands them (don't remind me about that rejection letter from mensa). but when i heard this, chills ran through my body. as we malays call it, menyengat habis. and in that instance, i finally understood the power of poetry.

i love the people i love but today, now... i carry their hearts with me.

...and so we set sail...

what the hell?!! i'm finally putting my neurotic ramblings into writing?? oh well, why the f*** not. here's to a journey full of bad grammar and a bucket load of cussin! woohooooooo!!!