One Fine Day In Luxembourg

2007-12-27T19:02:00.000+08:00

Friday 06.04.04 [3:21 pm]

This morning, while I was reading The Road to Mecca, and in awe of the experience the writer had, I remembered some of my own experience backpacking in Europe way back in 1998...

One particular experience played in mind while I was ironing my baju kurung this morning. The priest I met at the Luxembourg Railway Station. We had just arrived at the train station that morning, and I was taking care of the bags while the other three girls (there were four of us: Ratu, Zie, Anis and me) went to the ladies to freshen up before we start exploring the small, charming city. I was busy reading the travelling journal, making plans on which areas we should cover that day when someone said hello to me.

I looked up and saw a kind face wearing a white robe, carrying a small book ( I presumed it was a Bible) and a string of rosary beads smiling down at me. He sat next to me on the bench and we started talking. He asked the usual questions, where is home, what I was doing in Luxembourg... He of course didn't ask of my religion, as it was quite obvious from the headscarf that I donned. After learning that I was with three other girls, he advised me to be careful while roaming the places, and he gave me the directions to his church just in case I needed shelter or help. He left soon after, but before he left, he put his hand on my head, and said "May God bless you my child"...

I nodded, said thank you, and assured him again that we will be very careful and look for him if we need any help. Zie came out of the wash room at the same time that the kind man left. She saw the priest's hand on my head and rushed over. She was worried, horrid thoughts in her head. I told her of my short chat with the kind man, and how he was worried for us. Despite our different beliefs. He was all smiles and was very fatherly.

After all these years, I have never forgotten the man's kind smile, and his quiet words... You see, I know why he came to me that morning. I was the only one who looked different. I was from a different continent, I was wearing the headscarf, and well, I looked really different. Every other person at the station openly stared at me, not hostile, just curious. The priest made it clear that I was no different than him when he came and sat with me.

I had wonderful experiences backpacking across Europe and each of the city holds a special place in my heart. But now and then, when people start talking about racial issues, of religions and beliefs, I always think of the kind elderly priest who is far away in Luxembourg. I hope he is in good health and high spirit.

Colourful India

2007-12-27T18:26:00.000+08:00

India is one of the rare places on earth that ignited so much emotion in me that I was overwhelmed just being there. It is a country where I gazed outside the bus windows in wonders, mixed feelings, so amazed of the sceneries, the people, and the buildings.

My passion and compassion multiplied when I was in India. Surely it was the sight of the people, living by the roadside, eating, sleeping and pissing. Kids walking around slipper-less, looking famished, begging for a few rupees, knocking the bus to get attention. Each time, I felt guilty; surely all the sarees that I have bought are just luxury!

What about Taj Mahal, you ask? I don’t know how much you know about Taj Mahal, and to be honest, I know probably just as much from my readings. It was breathtaking, no doubt about it. I stood outside the main entrance, speechless, probably gaping for ten minutes. The design. The marbles. Oh the white marbles.

A monument of love, they claimed. Shah Jahan loved the wife so much that when she died, he decided to build a huge graveyard for her. Where she can rest in peace. I just find it very sad how people manipulate the word love to accomplish many things. Monument of love? To a dead wife? By building a huge graveyard for her... But, isn't she, dead? She has no use for those wonderful marbles. Not when there are millions of people dying of starvation. That doesn’t sound like love to me. Love is a feeling, an emotion, of wanting to do good things.

Oh no, I am not discarding the architecture, design and everything else of the Taj Mahal. It is really truly amazing. It seriously did take my breath away, I felt goosebumps, I even had tears, it was that beautiful. Yet my heart simply couldn’t get past the obvious abuse of love and compassion. Sadly, I did not enjoy the Taj Mahal as much as I wanted to, not after passing by thousands of homeless people, looking very hungry and sad.

The food – this I like!!! The briyanis are to die for. Seriously, you really can die from eating so much of them yummy rice. We had the best food and we were eating all the time. I must have gained another 10 pounds! Everything was just so delicious.

The fabrics, as in the cloths - first class! Very exclusive and, here is the best part, its cheap!!! For RM60 you can get very richly embroidered saree. The colours are brilliant. Beautiful shades of pink, red, blue, green, emerald that I have never seen before. We spent hours at the shops looking at every one of the saree and asking two million questions about the saree next to that blue, no-no, the light pink saree. I think the bus was overloaded by too many sarees that day. Mothers buying for their kids, husband figuring out for hours whether they should get one for the wife, daughters trying to find one that will please moms...

We also went to Golconda Fort, located on the outskirts of the city of Hyderabad dating back to the early 13th century. It was built on a granite hill, some 120 metres high. They have these gigantic gates with large pointed iron spikes to prevent elephants from battering them down! (I don’t think they worry about the elephants now) It was known for its fabulous jewellery - diamonds, pearls and other gems, which were famous all over the world.

And you know, our tourist guide, Ejaz is a doctor! He works in a hospital in Kashmir. Every month he gets 7 days off, and he uses these off-days to work for extra income. I can’t imagine a doctor in KL who would work as a tourist guide!

My Travel Notes

One Fine Day In Luxembourg

Colourful India