Posts tagged ‘Malaysia’

Norway!

Color oil

Color oil (Photo credit: @Doug88888)

I’m on a music binge. Songs keep popping into my head. I hope you don’t mind. (Why did that turn blue?)

Tonight I thought of a few songs with colors in them. The songs, in no particular order, include Blue Velvet; Devil with a Blue Dress On; Lady in Red; Evergreen and Somewhere Over the Rainbow.

You probably have your own list of songs you love, with all sorts of colors and shadings and meanings—or no meaning at all—just enjoyment. (My son taught me that too. My children are always teaching me something).

It’s getting late and the pope has resigned and I’m craving rotisserie chicken with rice. Have you ever tried Chicken Rice in Malaysia? It’s one of the most wonderful tastes in the world.

So right now the song “Guilty” performed by Barbra Streisand and Barry Gibb is playing in my mind. That song reminds me of when I used to eat a whole pint of Haagen-Dazs coffee ice cream, melty on the edges, right from the carton (add spoon) at one sitting. That was awful, and wonderful, at the same time.

Why does life have to be that way, sometimes?

Let’s try some more music. Most music is safer. We don’t want to hurt anybody, including ourselves.

Mon Dieu! Here, hopefully, are pictures and music from Norway! Happy Tuesday!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pf84l_a9Wvg

 

Fish Naked

English: Mashli fry

English: Mashli fry (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

That’s what the bumper sticker I saw said, on the way to have lunch with a friend today (her treat:) “Fish Naked.”

The rest of the bumper sticker said, “You might hook the big one.” Let’s see if I can clean this fish up.

In today’s world, just about everything needs to be cleaned up. You could be innocently looking up what a Sarouk carpet is, then end up at some website where somebody’s invented some harmful or perverted or outlandish thing to do and we’re sorry we even found the place. So let’s change the subject.

Let’s talk about eating wild game, like fish and fowl.

Dad hunted wild game and we ate it once in a while. I especially liked quail, fried.

Venison and pheasant is so tasty, if prepared correctly. We ate those delicious foods at Thanksgiving last year, since we have hunters in our family.

Another of my four brothers got to go hunting in South Dakota. I think that’s where the pheasant came from, last year. He prepared the pheasant just right. This brother works for a wildlife organization. He’s a steward of creation. He cares about the whole natural world, including the people.

Doesn’t “venison” and “pheasant” sound more exotic than “deer meat” or “bird meat?” Venison and pheasant sound very high class. I have tried some high class foods, along with red furry candy, which was years later, in Malaysia.

What in the world? Have you read the news today? What is wrong in Colorado? Now I read that a “first snow tradition” at the Air Force Academy turned into a “melee,” which is a high class name for a big fight.

And now we have all the stressful after-effects of that storm. There’s always a storm somewhere.

But, back to the bumper sticker, since I can’t solve any of the world’s problems today. Doesn’t that sound like fun, a little bit, to fish naked? Maybe not. It’s probably one of those things that sounds like more fun than it really is, what with the hooks and all.

One of my sisters-in-law went night fishing one time wearing lip gloss and little bugs stuck in the gloss on her lips. She would try just about anything wild and fun, which is one of the things I love best about her. Another time, on a whim, she rode on the back of my brother’s Harley-Davidson in her high heels. They made it back okay.

Anyway, fried fish fillets are so good, coated with cornmeal and a little salt and pepper and fried up in a pan. Now I’m hungry for fried fish. Time to get some cornmeal and fish fillets and a black iron skillet. Those seasoned skillets give every single food a soul of its own.

The Day I Loved the American Flag

The . Original title: The original Star Spangl...

The . Original title: The original Star Spangled Banner “Museum” (from unverified data provided by the National Photo Company on the negative or negative sleeve.) This glass negative might show streaks and other blemishes resulting from a natural deterioration in the original coatings. cropt from LOC file before upload to Wikimedia. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

 

Living in or visiting a foreign country offers the incredible opportunity to see, hear, taste, smell and touch many different people and different ways of life.

 

In the mid-1990s, I lived in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia because of a building project, the Petronas Twin Towers, once the world’s tallest building(s). This magnificent structure, with the amazing sky-bridge, is featured in the excellent movie “Entrapment” with Sean Connery and Catherine Zeta-Jones.

 

The culture of KL (nearly everybody called it that) included Malay, Chinese and Indian people (from the nation of India) with the major religions being Muslim, Buddhist and Hindu, with other religions, or not, as well. Besides the citizens of Malaysia, there were many expatriates from many nations, including Japan; Korea; Great Britain; France; Australia; New Zealand and many others.

 

The people of Malaysia were mostly friendly and helpful and nearly all spoke English. Still, it was possible to feel stranded or lonely or just plain bored.

 

One day I decided to go to the library at the United States Embassy. One embassy, I forget which, had gold paint on black wrought-iron spires surrounding the building. It was a hot (but not miserably hot) day, since Malaysia has year-round tropical temperatures, as well as exotic fruits like nose apples and lychees and the stinky (but reportedly tasty) durian. The flowers of Malaysia are beautiful and abundant. Orchids, regal white and purple orchids, were “everyday” flowers there. I enjoyed buying a dozen coral-colored roses for about 23 ringgit, which was less than $10 American dollars then.

 

Still, it wasn’t home. When I got to the US Embassy that day, there was a long line, people from many nations, waiting to get inside. I looked around at other places, but the line was longest at the guard house of the American embassy.

 

Then I looked up, my chest hurts a little now when I think of it. A silent misty longing took my eyes up to that familiar flag—the red, white and blue, with the stars. This is my country, I thought. This is where I belong. This is mine. Of course, the United States of America is not mine. Mostly we belong (or used to belong) to everybody.

 

Anyway, back in the 90s, which do and don’t seem so long ago, I went inside the US Embassy that day and there was President Bill Clinton‘s portrait and I was too misguided to miss him then, but the President’s familiar face stood guard from the wall.

 

So, calmly, I looked at the Embassy library books, suddenly feeling that attachment, that sense of belonging to something grander than myself, something that was protective and brave and loving. It was the first time I really paid attention enough to feel love for my country and love for my flag, like millions of people love their own countries and their own flags around the world. Being alone enough, life forcing me to pay attention, made the difference.

 

It will sound like I’m making this up, but I’m not. While I browsed the books, an announcement came over the embassy intercom system. Everybody already inside the US Embassy was told to stay inside. There was a bomb threat. But, because of that American flag and the honor it stood for, and the people (I was acquainted with two of them) working at that embassy then, and the honor they stood for, I was not afraid.

 

There’s a reason they call that flag Old Glory. No matter how old that flag gets, it represents the best and the brightest, which can never be a cliche, even when we mess up or act ugly or act out or get hated because, sometimes, we deserve it. With our continuing civil wars, we are still the United States of America (with fear and trembling) although we are worn, torn and tattered.

 

Nevertheless, when you’re a down and out American, and far from home, you will look for that Star-Spangled Banner. You will look for her. And, if and when she finds her best good self, she will find you. She will reach out and embrace you and take you home and then send you out again for another hard good day.

 

Even if she dies trying, the better part of the United States of America will have your back. Let’s wish her a happy Fourth. Once upon a time, she deserved it. She may still yet. She’s a mess, but let’s wait and let’s hope and let’s believe. It’s hot, but the sky is blue.

 

 

 

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 147 other followers