tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78311141105471235882024-03-13T03:40:16.320-07:00Wandering PamPamposh Dharhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18071865154341978248noreply@blogger.comBlogger50125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831114110547123588.post-79745147905156937922013-01-17T16:52:00.003-08:002013-03-27T10:50:43.190-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0k69xdkTYss/UPicw2gl0JI/AAAAAAAABYU/IJysfkmWN-s/s1600/cover+hci.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0k69xdkTYss/UPicw2gl0JI/AAAAAAAABYU/IJysfkmWN-s/s200/cover+hci.jpg" width="129" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">"<b style="color: #634320;">An engrossing, personal view of the public events that have shaped India's recent history"</b></span><br />
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Check out Som Nath Dhar's memoir of public events from 1946 to 1984, from the partition of the country until Indira Gandhi's assassination. Events he covered as a journalist or witnessed as Nehru's personal assistant. As a government servant, an intelligence officer, as head of All India Radio news.<br />
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Starting with first-hand accounts of the violence unleashed by partition on both sides of the divide, the book takes us through independence, the unfolding Kashmir conflict, early nation-building, the assassination of Mahatma Gandhi, Nehru's death, Indira Gandhi's rise to and consolidation of power.... And much more, ending with Operation Bluestar and Indira Gandhi's assassination.<br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">"Dhar writes from the heart without abandoning the head: this fusion gives the book a readability many others in the genre lack."</span></b><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">-- Kirpal Singh</span>, Director, Wee Kim Wee Centre, Singapore Management University</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">More info <a href="http://pamposhdhar.blogspot.sg/2013/01/new-book-reader-friendly-journalistic.html">here</a>.</span><br />
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<br />Pamposh Dharhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18071865154341978248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831114110547123588.post-69577010995815584822012-06-28T02:43:00.001-07:002013-01-21T22:33:25.662-08:00Monkey Business in Malaysia<br />
Travel Stories<br />
Monkey Business in Langkawi, Malaysia, June 2012<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-N4e2ygzYF-Y/T-wmVNk21bI/AAAAAAAABUQ/ZqyOzsvCPao/s1600/Monkey+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-N4e2ygzYF-Y/T-wmVNk21bI/AAAAAAAABUQ/ZqyOzsvCPao/s400/Monkey+3.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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My husband and I don’t get to travel together too often now that my elderly parents live with us. But we decided recently that we would brave a very quick holiday together on an island resort quite close (by air anyway) to Singapore, where we live.<br />
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So off we went for a “long weekend” (actually Monday-Wednesday) on the Malaysian island of Langkawi. We stayed in a lovely resort, where we were given a nice large room with a fabulous view of the bay below us. Green hills along two sides of the bay and rainforest just behind our room on the other side.<br />
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On the morning of our second day there, we went for a guided walk through the rainforest. Being Malaysia, it was nice and easy, along a proper path, but we did get to see langurs, limurs, grasshoppers and various kinds of birds. Incidentally, a langur in south-east Asia refers to a rather small monkey – in sharp contrast to India, where it’s a very large monkey with a red behind (it’s a distinguishing feature, ok?). I know these creatures quite well because my cousin and I were once chased through the streets of Ranikhet by one of them. In the long ago past, of course.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m0vwjDdF99E/T-wn9uP0BiI/AAAAAAAABUk/wfJXwcudEvQ/s1600/A+Stroll+on+the+Beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m0vwjDdF99E/T-wn9uP0BiI/AAAAAAAABUk/wfJXwcudEvQ/s400/A+Stroll+on+the+Beach.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Anyway, to get back to our walk in Langkawi. We ended our walk by walking along the beach, beside the resort, where we saw quite a few of the larger Macaque monkeys. Some of the members of our group nodded sagely when our guide told us the monkeys sometimes enter the rooms.<br />
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Although this was meant as a warning to us to keep our windows and balcony doors closed, secretly I thought it would be kinda cool to be visited by a monkey.<br />
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The day wore on, with sea and sand and chatting on the beach and so on. The next morning, after some more vegging out in our beautiful surroundings, we got ready to leave the resort. I stepped onto the balcony to take in the sights and sounds of the sea one more time. I took a few last pictures with my phone. As I stepped back into the room, my finger must have hit some icon on the phone. Suddenly it started playing the one song I have so far managed to download – Allah hoo, a beautiful Sufi song sung by Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan. This song always transports me into another state. Pretty soon I had my eyes closed and was swaying to the familiar words and Nusrat’s beautiful voice.<br />
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Suddenly I heard a “chir-chir-chir” sound. I opened my eyes to see a monkey standing by our mini-fridge unwrapping a chocolate! For a brief moment I was torn between the urge to shoo him away from the fridge and clap my hands in glee. Not to mention switch from music to camera mode on the phone. The first instinct won and I literally yelled “shoo shoo” at the monkey. My husband came out of the bathroom where he had been packing up our toothbrushes and all, and added his voice to mine. The monkey quickly retreated through the balcony door.<br />
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My obsession with recording everything now took over. I closed the door, but started clicking. The monkey quickly moved off the balcony, but then, much to my delight, he came back again. He seemed wary of my husband and me, watching us intently from the other side of the door. But he wouldn’t go away. Then, tentatively, he stretched out an arm and reached for something in a corner of the balcony. I realized he had dropped a small part of the chocolate, still in its wrapper, on the balcony. On his second try, he was more courageous, reaching all the way to the wrapper, picking it up and licking off the chocolate. Then he disappeared.<br />
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It was the perfect going-away gift, that visit from my monkey friend. I marvelled at how well trained and focused he was – he must have come in quietly, made straight for the fridge, opened it and grabbed the biggest of the chocolates. It was only the sound of the unwrapping that gave him away.<br />
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I forgot to tell Reception to charge us for one chocolate. I don’t think they did.<br />
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Pamposh Dharhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18071865154341978248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831114110547123588.post-30989027560122060802012-06-27T22:00:00.001-07:002012-06-27T22:52:17.853-07:00Srinagar, Part I - The Mountains<br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Srinagar, May-June 2012</span></b><br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">PART I – The Mountains</span></b><br />
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The most striking thing about Srinagar is the constant companionship of the mountains. Wherever you look you see the Himalayas, majestic and still.<br />
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For 41 years, that was my strongest memory of Srinagar. Then, last month I went back to the land of my ancestors – and there were my old friends, the mountains. They must have seen so much trouble in the intervening four decades… But they did not seem to me to be looking down into the valley; they appeared to be more preoccupied with greeting the clouds every morning and reflecting the changing light of the sun through the day. Serene. Beautiful. Uplifting.<br />
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I’d wake up before dawn to the sound of the azaan and beautiful recitations, presumably from the Qoran, coming from somewhere nearby. I’d look out of the windows of my friends' house in the foothills of the Zabarwan “hills” – hills to Kashmiris, but mountains anywhere else in the world. The mountains would still be wearing the night like a dark shawl – perhaps a dark blue shawl rather than a black one, but still dark. I’d fall asleep again at some point listening to that beautiful recitation which, to my untrained ears, sounded rather like a Gita path. Having lived near mosques in Delhi, Kuala Lumpur and Jakarta had in no way prepared me for this peacefully soul-stirring recitation.<br />
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I’d wake up again around six. I’d look out of the windows again at the mountains in the bright early morning light. Sleepily, I’d reach for my camera, hoping to take some sense of the beauty of the mountains with me when I left Kashmir.<br />
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The mountains were there with me for every moment of my six days in beautiful Srinagar. Even when I went to bed, I knew they were watching over me. On my first morning in Srinagar, my friend drove me to Pari Mahal, which today is a fabulous six-tiered garden on a hillside in the Zabarwan mountains, scattered about with old stone arches, walls, steps and other surviving structures from the 17th century. Originally a Buddhist monastery, Pari Mahal was rebuilt as a school for astrology by Dara Shikoh, Shah Jahan’s oldest son, in 1650.<br />
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The beauty and scent of the flowers was overwhelming. So were the views of Srinagar from the various terraces. On the top terrace, I sat awhile on a low wall and surveyed the beautiful city and the surrounding mountains.<br />
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As I looked at the mountains I thought fleetingly once again of the stories they could tell, but the thought passed as quickly as it arose. These mountains were above all those worldly goings-on, I thought, they were a link between the earth and the sky, but an upward link, there to help us rise above the mundane and the petty, towards a higher reality, a better way of being…Pamposh Dharhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18071865154341978248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831114110547123588.post-17635431983455917952011-08-23T21:07:00.000-07:002011-08-23T21:07:26.995-07:00Singapore Notes - Lakshmi's Blessings for the Hajj?<!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal">There’s a shop in Kampung Glam, somewhere between Arab Street and Haji Street, that sells everything you might need for the Hajj – prayer mats, skull caps, even sticks of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">neem</i> that can be used to clean one’s teeth during the pilgrimage.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">It’s not an unusual shop in this part of Singapore, an area presided over by the Sultan mosque and specializing in Malay, Arab, Turkish and subcontinental Muslim fare (including some fantastic food, incidentally). </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">But there is one thing a little unusual about this particular shop. If you look past the prayer rugs towards the back of the shop you notice pictures of the Goddess Lakshmi, a baby Krishna and a small, but distinctly Hindu, altar. The shop is run by Pankaj and Ramesh, Singaporean Hindus of Indian descent.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Does this deter their Muslim customers from shopping here in preparation for the Hajj? Not usually – at least not Singaporean Muslim customers. “We have our loyal customers who have supported us for years,” says Pankaj. After all, he says, this just happens to be his trade. “And we treat all the items with great respect,” he explains.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">There was one customer who wasn’t convinced – not a Singaporean, as Pankaj is quick to point out. He selected a prayer rug and a few other things and then, as he was about to pay for the items he noticed the pictures at the back of the shop. He felt he couldn’t buy items for the Hajj from a non-Muslim and left without the things he had selected. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Pankaj and Ramesh take such incidences in their stride. “It’s the customer’s choice,” says Pankaj philosophically.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><!--EndFragment--> Pamposh Dharhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18071865154341978248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831114110547123588.post-11830024493781913422010-11-15T19:28:00.000-08:002010-11-15T19:33:55.269-08:00Life in Singapore<span style="color: blue; font-size: large;">Taxi blues...</span><br />
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<span style="color: black;">Ordering a taxi in Singapore is so easy because of the cab company's wonderful automated system. The system recognizes your number and offers to send a cab to your primary pick-up point (usually your home or office address). You just have to press 1 and hey presto! your cab is ordered.</span><br />
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Except when that automated system gets messed up. One of the hardest things for me has been trying to get the company to register my name. Pamposh would be impossible, so I shoot for Pam. But there are similar Chinese names in Singapore: Bam, Tam, Pan and Tan. For some reason, Pam is the very last choice of the operator.<br />
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What's in a name, you say - just settle for Bam or Tam or Tan. I did. But then the cabbie who was sent to pick me up would invariably look at me suspiciously and grill me about my name, phone no. and general antecedents. Not the cabbie's fault - after all you don't expect to see a big Indian woman when you've obviously been sent to pick up a petite Chinese lady. Who's this other woman trying to steal the cab?<br />
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So, I called the cab company. After several minutes of "P for Poland" etc, they finally agreed to put me down as Ms. Pam. Great! No more suspicious glances from cabbies. <br />
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This blissful state of affairs carried on for several months. Then, suddenly, for no reason I could fathom, the company started sending cabs for Mr. Ho Ming. Who is Mr. Ho Ming?? No-one knows. Boy, this one was much worse than Bam or Tam or Pan. I do NOT look like a Mr. Ho Ming!! Not ever. <br />
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In one case, I actually had to ask the cabbie to call my mobile phone (the company gives the driver the customer's number) and answer it in his presence when he rang! Only then did he grudgingly allow me to step into his cab.<br />
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So last night I called the cab company again to ask them to change their records. The conversation went something like this:<br />
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Me: I'd like you to change your records please. You seem to have someone else's name for my phone no.<br />
Operator: You want to change your name?<br />
Me (a bit taken aback): No, my name is still Pam. I just want you to change your records.<br />
Operator: Ya, ya, change your name.<br />
Me: Yes, please change my name. (This is easier, I thought.) Please change it to Pam. P for Poland...<br />
Operator: T for Thailand...<br />
Me (unable to stop myself): How do you get Thailand from Poland? (Then, composing myself): No, no, P for Poland...<br />
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And so it went.<br />
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Let's see what name shows up on the cab driver's screen next time. If it isn't Pam, I hope it's something fun and exotic.<strong> </strong>Pamposh Dharhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18071865154341978248noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831114110547123588.post-15096064368434473402010-07-10T06:39:00.000-07:002010-07-10T08:00:43.203-07:00Cambodia Vignettes<span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="color:#990000;">Vignette 3 - The Forgotten Temples</span><br /></span><br /><div><span style="color:#990000;"></span></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492290354163048850" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/TDiI-ksxYZI/AAAAAAAABPw/Z5Sbv_U_CTI/s400/AT.jpg" /><br /><p></p><p></p><p></p><div><span style="color:#000000;">The magnificent Hindu and Buddhist temples of Angkor Wat and Angkor Thom, built in the 12th and 13th centuries, are the major attractions of a World Heritage site near the city of Siem Reap. But temples - so<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/TDiHFaNzMGI/AAAAAAAABPQ/R33xy9NhHPA/s1600/wall.JPG"></a>me older than that - are in fact scattered all around Siem Reap. Not all are marked on tourist maps.</span><br /><br />My recent visit to Cambodia was an official one to see development projects, including some near Siem Reap. My colleagues and I decided to visit a village not far from one of the major highways in the country. Not far in terms of kilometres from the highway, that is. In fact we ended up doing a 45-minute bone-rattling drive on barely discernible paths - sometimes not discernible at all! I would have suggested turning back, but there was nowhere to turn. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div> </div><div>We spent an interesting 45 minutes in the village, visiting a textile weaving scheme that builds on a traditional skill to create modern designs and provide greater income to women. As we finished, we let out a collective groan in anticipation of the drive back. On a whim, one of colleagues asked the women if there was a better way back to the highway. And there was! </div><div><br />So we took this better route back. I have never been so thankful for a dirt track! Bumpy as it was, it was heaven compared with the drive out along the practically non-existent path. We were so happy we were almost shouting in glee. Then, suddenly, we rounded a corner and found much more cause for joy. Two old temples in the middle of nowhere! Amazing. There were no deities in these small temples, but to my untrained eye they looked like old Hindu temples. The temples were built with the large stones typical of Khmer architecture. </div><div></div><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/TDiGgWadBnI/AAAAAAAABPI/U1q62y_HhHs/s1600/temple+cropped.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 352px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492287635908789874" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/TDiGgWadBnI/AAAAAAAABPI/U1q62y_HhHs/s400/temple+cropped.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/TDiHmsiiETI/AAAAAAAABPg/gdJf_82BzlE/s1600/wall.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 133px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492288844439097650" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/TDiHmsiiETI/AAAAAAAABPg/gdJf_82BzlE/s200/wall.JPG" /></a><br />There was also part of a wall and several broken columns. There was a one-room modern building near the temples and a Buddha statue, also from recent times, placed in the open next to the old temples. So <em>some</em> people were aware of the old ruins. But there was no sign of an archaelogical authority or government agency. </div><div><br /> </div><div></div><div><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 133px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492289020693804018" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/TDiHw9I7c_I/AAAAAAAABPo/Tu3RIGNXXik/s200/ruins+2.JPG" /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>Of course, these simple, probably older, temples don't begin to compare with the glory of Angkor Wat or the Bayon. But on that hot afternoon, after the gruelling drive to and from the village, they were like a gift. A beautiful sight for sore eyes.</div><br /><div></div>Pamposh Dharhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18071865154341978248noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831114110547123588.post-6594294627371705402010-07-08T22:50:00.000-07:002010-07-08T23:06:53.279-07:00Cambodia Vignettes<div><div><div>Vignette 2: Restaurants.</div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 136px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491782858825673730" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/TDa7adPiLAI/AAAAAAAABOI/_a1k3Gu3Fhs/s400/dance+2+cr2.jpg" />New food is one of the joys of travel. After many years turning more and more squeamish about trying new meats, I decided to enjoy Cambodia's rather "daring" cuisine. My Cambodian friends seemed to find something new for me to try at every meal! And it was all delicious. <div></div><br /><div>Usually one of them would introduce the more exotic dishes. One day he just told me we were eating deer meat, which I know and like. So I was happily tucking into the dish. The meat was accompanied by some lovely crunchy stuff - a bit like very crisp onion rings. When I was halfway through this delicious dish, my friend casually said: "Oh, and I forgot to tell you, that stuff with the deer meat is red ants." Wow. It tasted rather good, I must say, but I don't know that I would have tried it had I known what it was - known <em>before</em> I tried it, that is! Anyway, great food in Cambodia.</div><div></div><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/TDa7pI3FO3I/AAAAAAAABOQ/Jrutr3raN18/s1600/dance+2+cr4.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 176px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491783111052442482" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/TDa7pI3FO3I/AAAAAAAABOQ/Jrutr3raN18/s200/dance+2+cr4.jpg" /></a> The restaurants were interesting too, everything from the roadside eateries to the huge, tourist-bus-oriented buffet restaurant with a cultural show. Lovely dances.<br /><br /><div></div><div>Equally interesting was the decor in this roadside eatery. A couple of different styles, to say the least. Don't miss the giant mushrooms in the corner. Globalization or clash of cultures? Hmm.</div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 331px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491783475776672962" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/TDa7-XkHVMI/AAAAAAAABOY/VysWTXAnTkg/s400/restaurant+corner+cropped.jpg" /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div>Pamposh Dharhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18071865154341978248noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831114110547123588.post-34685762684438589322010-07-07T19:33:00.000-07:002010-07-07T20:16:02.682-07:00Cambodia Vignettes<span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;">Vignette 1 - Coke Seller on the Tonle Sap</span><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/TDU8L-3xpkI/AAAAAAAABNA/pfac8mmPwsg/s1600/coke+seller.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 133px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491361497201354306" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/TDU8L-3xpkI/AAAAAAAABNA/pfac8mmPwsg/s200/coke+seller.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;">We were chugging along in a motorized boat on Cambodia's huge Tonle Sap lake; I was facing the front of the boat, waiting for the lake to open out before us in its full glory. Suddenly a boy appeared just behind me - on our boat - with a bunch of cold drinks. I couldn't figure out where he had materialized from. Turned out he had jumped on from another boat that had come close to ours. I asked him if I could take a picture - he flashed me a big grin and a victory sign. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">I twisted around to see his "mother ship" - couldn't spot a boat near us. Apparently the boat had come up close, the boy had hopped on, and his companion had swerved away from us. He asked me what I'd like to drink. I didn't really want anything, but how could I not buy from such an enterprising and charming seller? My two colleagues and I each bought something from the boy. </span><br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/TDU9bF-wNGI/AAAAAAAABNI/641e0tkdcIE/s1600/coke+seller+preparing+to+jump+back+-+cr.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 195px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491362856319333474" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/TDU9bF-wNGI/AAAAAAAABNI/641e0tkdcIE/s200/coke+seller+preparing+to+jump+back+-+cr.jpg" /></a> <span style="font-size:130%;">Once the transactions were complete, the boy moved to the edge of our boat. The other boat - manned by his father, he explained - magically appeared beside ours. The boy prepared to jump back on to his Dad's boat.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/TDU-NSdHDKI/AAAAAAAABNQ/6Zp5r0RvFhM/s1600/coke+seller+jumping+back+-+cr.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 126px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491363718661344418" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/TDU-NSdHDKI/AAAAAAAABNQ/6Zp5r0RvFhM/s200/coke+seller+jumping+back+-+cr.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">My Cambodian companions assured me all little kids on the Tonle Sap were expert swimmers in addition to being great saleskids.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">So I relaxed and waved goodbye to the boy as he jumped into his own boat.</span>Pamposh Dharhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18071865154341978248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831114110547123588.post-46470562773398464492010-04-05T09:11:00.001-07:002010-04-06T01:08:00.077-07:00Revisiting the Buddhas of the Bayon (Cambodia)<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/S7oSrT9oppI/AAAAAAAABKs/08347I8UEyY/s1600/Bayon+close-up.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 113px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 123px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456694433815242386" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/S7oSrT9oppI/AAAAAAAABKs/08347I8UEyY/s400/Bayon+close-up.jpg" /></a> I recently had the opportunity to go back to Cambodia after 16 years. Unlike my first trip, back in 1994, this time I was there on work and on a very tight schedule. Sightseeing was out of the question, even though my work took me to Siem Reap, a city surrounded by the fabulous Hindu and Buddhist temples of Angkor. As we drove closer to Siem Reap, my memories of Angkor Thom and Angkor Wat, in particular, grew ever more vivid.<br /><br /><div>I remembered how I had loved the early morning visit to the Bayon temple in Angkor Thom. The roof of this temple is covered by huge Buddha heads, all serene, yet each with a somewhat different expression. Up on the roof you feel you are surrounded by the presence of the Buddha - everywhere you look, the Buddha, larger than life, is smiling quietly at you. And if you go just before sunrise and watch the sun come up from atop the temple, you can see each face come alive as the sun's rays hit it. It is a beautiful, calm, serene feeling.<br /><br /><div><div><div><div>This memory began to haunt me. Even if I couldn't visit any of the temples during daylight hours, surely I could steal away for an hour or so at day-break and visit my old friend the Buddha. So I fixed for a thuk-thuk driver to come pick me up from my hotel at 5:30 in the morning and drive me to the Bayon. Given my programme, this was only possible on my last day in Cambodia. </div><br /><div></div><div>The afternoon before the much-anticipated morning I fell ill! I finished my work and went back to my hotel room to ride out a fever and get some kind of food poisoning or water infection - whatever it was - out of my system. I slept, woke up and did Reiki (energy healing), fell asleep, woke up and did Reiki, and so on. At 9:30 at night I forced myself to eat some bread and butter to keep my strength up, set my alarm for 4:30 and went to sleep praying I'd be fit enough to go to the Bayon next morning.<br /><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>And of course I was! No doubt the Buddha heard my prayers and helped me recover quickly! A lovely tuk-tuk ride through nearly deserted streets in the early morning light (even before sunrise), a cool, soft breeze, driving past Angkor Wat and into Angkor Thom - and then we were there, at the magnificent Bayon temple.</div><br /><div></div><div>My memory had not deceived me. The Bayon at sunrise is a glorious site. The sunrise is kind of quiet - the sky is already light, so the sunrise itself is not dramatic - but the sun's rays seem to wake up the Buddhas all around one. </div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 323px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456695521171446690" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/S7oTqmrjm6I/AAAAAAAABK8/GgkBYwph7JY/s400/Bayon+Buddhas+at+sunrise.jpg" /> <div></div><br /><div>I walked, sat before some of the Buddhas, walked again, took a few picture. Talked a little to the Buddhas - yes, I <em>am</em> a little crazy, so what? I lost track of time, but I guess I must have been there about 2 hours - until the foreign tourists started arriving (other than myself that is). The first lot were a group of 4 loudly discussing their negotiations over something they had bought and seemingly not too interested in the Buddhas around them. Soon the tourist buses began to arrive too. Time to go.</div><br /><div></div><div>But the rest of my work team were running a bit late. So the tuk-tuk driver drove me around the historical site to see some of the other temples and the elephant terrace of the old palace. With my head still full of the magnificent Buddhas of the Bayon, and my body still a little weak from the previous day's illness, I was content to see the rest from the tuk-tuk. We drove back to the Bayon and my colleague phoned to say the team would take a little more time. No problem, I said and settled down practically in the shadow of the Bayon Buddhas to have a nice al fresco breakfast. </div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456695165340537090" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/S7oTV5G20QI/AAAAAAAABK0/ONibIZhtugg/s400/Bayon+Buddhas+-+rising+sun.jpg" /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div></div></div></div></div>Pamposh Dharhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18071865154341978248noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831114110547123588.post-53529833254218888332010-04-04T09:10:00.001-07:002010-04-05T01:27:15.020-07:00Singapore Tales: Hungry; go where?It's great to be back in Singapore. Fabulous green city, with lovely treetop trails and walks through forested areas, unlimited shopping and, of course, amazing food. One of the joys of Singapore has long been that you never need to cook for yourself if you don't want to: eat safely in a scruffy roadside eatery, enjoy a mix of cuisines at a food court, or wine and dine at an upscale restaurant. All these option are as available today as ever, albeit at a higher cost than before - especially if they involve any alcohol, which is pretty highly taxed in Singapore.<br /><br />There are also a growing number of food-by-phone or food-via-the-Net options. Your choice of Chinese, Indian, Thai, Vietnamese, Middleastern food is delivered to your home. Such luxury. You can look up your cuisine options and menus online, then order via the Net or on the phone.<br /><br />So, you are ready to eat but don't have food at home. What's the first thought that passes through your head? I'm hungry. And then, knowing there's no food at home: Where should I go? A clever company has captured these basic thoughts into perfect Singlish (Singapore English) for their website: hungrygowhere.com! Knowing that, how can one even think of typing out any other address for food delivery! Brilliant.Pamposh Dharhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18071865154341978248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831114110547123588.post-62043784511893039522010-02-05T00:44:00.000-08:002010-02-06T00:35:27.704-08:00Kuala Lumpur Old and NewA recent brief visit to Kuala Lumpur (Malaysia) brought home to me just how much the city, and the country, has changed since the mid-1980's when I worked and lived in KL for a couple of years.<br /><br />Back in 1985, I fell in love with KL almost as soon as I landed there. It was a big, warm, overgrown village with all the modern amenities. The people were friendly and hospitable and just so much fun. We took our work very seriously, worked long hours in a deadline-driven industry (journalism), but we had fun even as we worked. (Deadlines were not measured in seconds in those low tech days, but they did drive the business.)<br /><br />Going back to KL is kinda weird now. It's like going into the future a couple of centuries. Of course, all Asian cities have changed drastically in the past 25 years, but none quite like KL. In most other cities, the old lives on alongside the new. KL feels like the old city just vanished into thin air and was replaced overnight by this gleaming new one.<br /><br />Some of the old landmarks are still there - the British-style railway station, the beautiful old Indian mosque, the Central Market. But the old buildings are hard to spot among all the glittering new high-rises. In 1985, the tallest building was 18 storeys high. Today, the city's skyline is dominated by the Petronas Towers, the highest twin towers in the world, soaring 88 storeys above <em>terra firma.</em><br /><br /><p>The "plazas" are now called malls, as they are in most other Asian cities, and boast more designer and high-end brand names. There is an efficient light rail system and an equally efficient rail link to the huge and very modern airport located way outside the city.</p><p>More than the buildings and the railways, it's the psyche of KL that's changed. Among all this glittering steel and glass, Malaysians are currently fighting over the <a href="http://pamposhdhar.blogspot.com/2010/02/allah-by-any-other-name.html">name of God</a>. Does anyone stop to ask themselves: Does God care what we call him? Does he think mosques and churches should be attacked to settle this dispute over his name?</p><p>When I lived in KL 25 years ago, I worked in a thoroughly multi-cultural office. The camaraderie of the office often spilled over into impromptu parties after work. I shared a house with some colleaugues very close to the office, so many of the parties happened at our place. Despite differences in race, drinking and dietary habits, we all enjoyed our get-togethers. </p>The differences didn't divide so much as add variety to our lives. My first Eid in Malaysia was spent visiting the homes of several of my Malay friends. All of them had an "open house" that day - anyone could walk in and would be treated like an honoured guest. One of our hosts had even kept beer for us in his fridge - although he didn't drink himself, he wanted to be a good host to his non-Muslims friends.<br /><br />Similarly, Indian Hindus had an open house for Diwali and the Chinese for lunar new year. My two years in Malaysia passed quickly with all these festivities and the general friendship and hospitality of my colleagues and friends.<br /><p>Now, Malaysia's three major communities live side by side, mostly peacefully (barring the odd controversy over God's name and such) - but not together. My taxi driver on the ride in from the airport assured me that the God controversy was incited by politicians for political gain. No doubt that is so, and such cynical politically-motivated stupidity is certainly not restricted to Malaysia. </p><p>But, while in KL, I couldn't help noticing that the communities are now partying separately. </p>Pamposh Dharhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18071865154341978248noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831114110547123588.post-45907071724878238642010-01-21T00:17:00.000-08:002010-01-21T00:29:18.487-08:00Singapore Notes - Shooting Missiles<em>I moved back to Singapore this months after 3 years in the Philippines. I'm enjoying getting re-acquainted with the city.</em><br /><em></em><br />One learns something new every day. I thought I was pretty well up on Singapore slang, but I learnt a new expression the other day: shooting missiles.<br /><br />My husband and I were in a cab and my husband commented on how nice it was to drive down such a quiet street, especially when one considered that the very next street from us was always so noisy. The cabby nodded appreciatively and said he hated driving down that busy street. Because of all the "shooting missiles."<br /><br />In these terrible times, the mind goes pretty easily to terrorist activity; but I quickly dismissed that first thought since the cab driver seemed more amused than alarmed. I thought perhaps he was referring to some manner of fireworks, this being the Christmas-to-Chinese-New-Year festive season in Singapore.<br /><br />But no. He explained that many pedestrians, new arrivals from a certain part of Asia, oblivious to Singapore traffic norms, would suddenly dart into this very busy road anywhere and everywhere they felt like crossing it! Shooting out into traffic like missiles. What an evocative image!<br /><br />What part of Asia? That shall, of course, remain nameless though it will not be a mystery to anyone who knows Singapore - or that certain part of Asia. :)Pamposh Dharhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18071865154341978248noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831114110547123588.post-5074412719962282782009-12-25T01:20:00.001-08:002009-12-25T01:22:16.568-08:00Merry Christmas<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;">Wishing all peace, harmony, good health and good cheer at Christmas and throughout the coming year. </span><br /><strong><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:130%;color:#009900;">Merry Christmas.</span></strong>Pamposh Dharhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18071865154341978248noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831114110547123588.post-86242472090258908682009-11-21T23:41:00.000-08:002009-11-21T23:48:03.426-08:00Red Rivers Writers - new e-magazineWith an eclectic mix of writings by new authors, some published some not (yet). Book reviews, book previews, writing tips, a travel column (by yours truly), and much more. <a href="http://www.robinfalls.com/RFMagRRW.html">Check it out</a>!<br /><br />Red Rivers Writers is part of <a href="http://www.robinfalls.com/RFM.html">Robin Falls magazine</a>, which has a section on new writing for kids, anther sections on all manner of recently published books, a third on blog radio shows.Pamposh Dharhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18071865154341978248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831114110547123588.post-91874013196569808782009-10-01T20:30:00.000-07:002009-10-04T08:24:58.208-07:00Mahatma Gandhi<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/Ssi-M1FfkMI/AAAAAAAABIY/vHs5wLKNgHE/s1600-h/Gandhi+2.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 149px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388766081766625474" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/Ssi-M1FfkMI/AAAAAAAABIY/vHs5wLKNgHE/s200/Gandhi+2.jpg" /></a><br /><div>The best way to find yourself is to lose yourself in the service of others. -- Mahatma Gandhi<br /><br />An apt quote for those of us in a position to help others in the Philippines, Indonesia, Samoa, or anywhere else in the world.<br /><br />Oct 2, 2009 marks Mahatma Gandhi's 140th birth anniversary.<br /><br />"Generations to come will scarce believe that such a one as this ever in flesh and blood walked upon this earth." Albert Einstein</div>Pamposh Dharhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18071865154341978248noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831114110547123588.post-74959065604314553192009-09-26T20:19:00.001-07:002009-09-26T20:19:42.511-07:00Typhoon Relief in Manila - How to HelpManila and the island on Luzon were battered by a typhoon and incessant rain on Saturday (Sept 26), claiming close to 60 lives and flooding many people out of their homes.<br /><br />Sunday morning dawned bright – and dry – in Manila, but many, many families are still coping with their loss. We cannot bring back their loved ones, but we can at least help them get through the next few difficult days.<br /><br />For those living in Metro-Manila, the blog <a href="http://www.phbestdeals.com/2009/09/typhoon-ondoy-relief-efforts.html">PH Best Deals</a> provides useful information that will help them find a centre close to their home to drop off food, medicines, blankets and other relief items.Pamposh Dharhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18071865154341978248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831114110547123588.post-26845906915262409482009-08-05T21:04:00.000-07:002009-08-05T21:32:35.015-07:00More Pictures from Bali<div align="center"> Early morning in Sanur</div><div align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/SnpZ3AZLK9I/AAAAAAAABFc/GPlkjH7Hr6c/s1600-h/july+2009+plus+some+europe0619.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366700707498634194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/SnpZ3AZLK9I/AAAAAAAABFc/GPlkjH7Hr6c/s400/july+2009+plus+some+europe0619.JPG" border="0" /></a> Rice fields in Ubud</div><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366701151772386050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/SnpaQ3cSowI/AAAAAAAABFk/_yaCiVjQ5DI/s400/Ubud+gardens0005.JPG" border="0" />The garden in Ubud</div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366701781334584690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 340px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 360px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/Snpa1gvnbXI/AAAAAAAABFs/MOxAYMQDY4Y/s400/Ubud+gardens0074_1.JPG" border="0" /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/SnpbS1HYLvI/AAAAAAAABF0/W_rjbNd-XIg/s1600-h/july+20090001_23.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366702285019164402" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 244px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/SnpbS1HYLvI/AAAAAAAABF0/W_rjbNd-XIg/s400/july+20090001_23.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div><br /><br /></div><div align="left">It's a bird, it's superman... no, it's just a rather large kite! Flown from the shore at Sanur.<br /></div><div><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/Snpbt7bMl_I/AAAAAAAABF8/v2n2pTRuKmo/s1600-h/july+20090001_6.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366702750569371634" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/Snpbt7bMl_I/AAAAAAAABF8/v2n2pTRuKmo/s400/july+20090001_6.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div><br /><br /><br /></div><div><br /><br /><br /><br /> </div><div><br /></div><div><br /><br /><br /><br /> </div><div><div> A Balinese music hall - this one at Sanur.<br /></div><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/SnpcK586PQI/AAAAAAAABGE/jDRNxUNAZ5M/s1600-h/Balinese+dances0090.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366703248390110466" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 316px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/SnpcK586PQI/AAAAAAAABGE/jDRNxUNAZ5M/s400/Balinese+dances0090.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div> </div><div>And dances at our villa in Ubud.</div></div>Pamposh Dharhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18071865154341978248noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831114110547123588.post-77771819511277319652009-07-31T17:54:00.000-07:002009-07-31T18:00:53.880-07:00Bali - Island of the Gods<div><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/SnOTWeA6LoI/AAAAAAAABD8/hhSk1cRAUYs/s1600-h/july+20090001_22.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364793595351674498" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/SnOTWeA6LoI/AAAAAAAABD8/hhSk1cRAUYs/s320/july+20090001_22.JPG" border="0" /></a> <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/SnOTW-sRGxI/AAAAAAAABEM/n57RKJiMm40/s1600-h/july+20090001_46.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364793604123466514" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 282px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/SnOTW-sRGxI/AAAAAAAABEM/n57RKJiMm40/s320/july+20090001_46.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div>Just back once again from the beautiful Indonesian island of Bali. It is the perfect vacation destination for me - low, rolling hills; green rice fields that calm the heart and bring peace; magnificent volcanoes; seaside; and wonderful, friendly people.</div><div>More to follow soon about my latest trip there...</div></div></div></div>Pamposh Dharhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18071865154341978248noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831114110547123588.post-33987800517588139602009-07-08T09:11:00.000-07:002009-07-08T09:17:23.574-07:00Terataii newsletter, July-Sept 2009Email <a href="mailto:tterataii@gmail.com"><a href="mailto:terataii@gmail.com">terataii@gmail.com</a></a> for your copy of this electronic newsletter on Reiki, holistic healing and spirituality. <div><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/SlTFsWN-f5I/AAAAAAAABB8/bdBnYkFy0YQ/s1600-h/0001.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356123222519480210" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 176px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/SlTFsWN-f5I/AAAAAAAABB8/bdBnYkFy0YQ/s200/0001.JPG" border="0" /></a> <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/SlTFskoEi5I/AAAAAAAABCE/9txBbetM8vM/s1600-h/OM1.jpe"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356123226387024786" style="WIDTH: 171px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 171px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/SlTFskoEi5I/AAAAAAAABCE/9txBbetM8vM/s200/OM1.jpe" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>This issue includes an introduction to mantra meditation, wise words from the Dalai Lama and others, a discussion of Reiki's 5th principle for daily living, news from the Terataii Centre in Manila (Philippines)...</div></div>Pamposh Dharhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18071865154341978248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831114110547123588.post-54793919469936549702009-06-26T10:08:00.000-07:002009-06-26T10:18:12.556-07:00A Burmese Buddha for Postcard Friendship FridayPostcard from Bagan, Burma<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/SkUA3X3ThzI/AAAAAAAAA_8/q4ri1aeuoZE/s1600-h/postcard0001_2.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351684683498489650" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 304px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/SkUA3X3ThzI/AAAAAAAAA_8/q4ri1aeuoZE/s400/postcard0001_2.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />This beautiful and intricate sculpture depicts 8 important events from the Buddha's life. It can be seen in Bagan museum (in the city of the same name) - which has some absolute gems on display even apart from this one.<br /><br />Check out <a href="http://www.cpaphilblog.com/2009/06/happy-birthday-imajica-postcard_25.html">Postcard Friendship Friday</a> on Marie Reed's blog.Pamposh Dharhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18071865154341978248noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831114110547123588.post-60450780064291685122009-06-23T19:06:00.000-07:002009-06-23T19:23:54.468-07:00W for Wanderlust, weddings, Wandering Pam<div><div><div><div><div>ABC Wednesday at <a href="http://abcwednesdayround3.blogspot.com/2009/06/w-is-for.html">mrs. nesbitt's</a> again! This time the letter is <span style="color:#ff0000;">W</span>.</div><div></div><div></div><br /><div>W is for this blog - <span style="color:#ff0000;">Wandering Pam</span>!</div><div>W is for the <span style="color:#ff0000;">wanderlust</span> that leads me to travel and to <span style="color:#ff0000;">write</span> about my travels on this blog.</div><div></div><div>W is also for something I saw quite a lot of on my last major round of travels - <span style="color:#ff0000;">weddings</span>!</div><div></div><br /><div>This one I was actually invited to. The bride is Italian, the groom Indian, the ceremonies - mixed and a lot of fun! This is the Indian bit after the wedding vows exchanged in church.</div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350711635734539650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/SkGL4ieBrYI/AAAAAAAAA-0/Zi9euhWtRZ8/s400/17.+poshe-puja.JPG" border="0" />This one I happened upon outside a castle in northern Italy. The couple are leaving the wedding - in a tuk tuk!<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350712097048723234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/SkGMTY_5fyI/AAAAAAAAA-8/11GQkCx48Lk/s400/Raju+in+a+safa0813.JPG" border="0" /> <div>And this couple is leaving in a gondola! Where else - of course in Venice.</div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350713773164299618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 197px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/SkGN09A_hWI/AAAAAAAAA_U/rxv1mME57HI/s400/Fathers+Day+20090001.JPG" border="0" /></div></div></div></div></div>Pamposh Dharhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18071865154341978248noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831114110547123588.post-45724496885368711382009-06-18T23:53:00.000-07:002009-06-19T00:00:19.922-07:00Quotable Thursday #9 - June 18, 2009Please go over to <a href="http://terataii.blogspot.com/">Terataii</a> to join this meme with a favourite quotation of your own. And read another quote from Nehru there.<br /><br />Meanwhile, here's my quotation for this blog, also by Nehru:<br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">Culture is the widening of the mind and of the spirit.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;"><span style="color:#000000;">--</span> </span>Jawaharlal Nehru<br /><br />I couldn't agree more. And one way to widen the mind and the spirit is to travel, so I think this is a particularly apt quote for a travel blog.Pamposh Dharhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18071865154341978248noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831114110547123588.post-11334368477559392492009-06-13T21:21:00.000-07:002009-06-13T23:13:05.520-07:00The 3 Vs Tour: Verona, Venice, ViennaABC Wednesday. I'm posting early for <span style="color:#ff0000;">V</span> coz I'll be out of town and away from my main computer (with my pix) until after next Wednesday. Check out other entries at <a href="http://abcwednesdayround3.blogspot.com/">mrs. nesbitt's</a> on Wednesday.<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/SjSRyOybO0I/AAAAAAAAA-M/g1ZLbWFTw_U/s1600-h/Raju+in+a+safa0896.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347058949744704322" style="WIDTH: 133px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/SjSRyOybO0I/AAAAAAAAA-M/g1ZLbWFTw_U/s200/Raju+in+a+safa0896.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/SjSRyDwWGnI/AAAAAAAAA-E/UhJwttNqlPI/s1600-h/Venice+edited0027.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347058946783189618" style="WIDTH: 135px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/SjSRyDwWGnI/AAAAAAAAA-E/UhJwttNqlPI/s200/Venice+edited0027.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/SjSRxgYGGuI/AAAAAAAAA98/EM4ynuMiY-g/s1600-h/Vienna+selection+edited0097.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347058937286236898" style="WIDTH: 95px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/SjSRxgYGGuI/AAAAAAAAA98/EM4ynuMiY-g/s200/Vienna+selection+edited0097.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div>Last summer (2008) my husband and I did what we called our 2Ms and <span style="color:#ff0000;">3Vs</span> tour: Manila (where we live), Milan, <span style="color:#ff0000;">Verona</span>, <span style="color:#ff0000;">Venice</span>, <span style="color:#ff0000;">Vienna</span> and back (via a faboulous town called Bergamo, near Milan, but that only happened because our flight from <span style="color:#ff0000;">Vienna</span> landed there rather than in Milan). </div><div><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/SjSCBkmP4vI/AAAAAAAAA8M/zh6PIfXlE5A/s1600-h/Aida+at+the+Arena,+Verona..JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347041621111202546" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 120px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/SjSCBkmP4vI/AAAAAAAAA8M/zh6PIfXlE5A/s200/Aida+at+the+Arena,+Verona..JPG" border="0" /></a></div></div><span style="color:#ff0000;">Verona </span><span style="color:#000000;">is a beautiful old city steeped in history and culture, which come together in the annual summer opera festival held at the Arena, a Roman amphitheatre which becomes an immense open-air theatre. An opera such as Aida is such a visual treat in this fantastic setting that one almost forgets to enjoy the music!</span> <span style="color:#ff0000;">Verona</span> is also the city of Dante (who wrote the Divine Comedy) and the setting for two of Shakespeare's plays.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/SjSTR2hRa7I/AAAAAAAAA-c/B1JCyGMzWJk/s1600-h/Venice+edited0058.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347060592497748914" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 146px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/SjSTR2hRa7I/AAAAAAAAA-c/B1JCyGMzWJk/s200/Venice+edited0058.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="color:#ff0000;">Venice</span> is<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/SjSAW7_1VUI/AAAAAAAAA7U/WM9f-SNhMAQ/s1600-h/Venice+edited0058.JPG"></a> known for the beautiful buildings on the Grand Canal, and the naorrower canals navigable by gondolas. But above all, it is a city of water, with its buildings anchored in the ocean, its beautiful churches and companiles (church towers) built on tiny islets. <div><br /><div>And <span style="color:#ff0000;">Vienna</span> - a city of music, of opera, of beautiful old architecture. The city of Johann Strauss and the <span style="color:#ff0000;">Vienna</span> <span style="color:#ff0000;">waltz</span>. <div><div><div><div></div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/SjSPZGhjKnI/AAAAAAAAA90/uZaeG_ITOkc/s1600-h/Vienna+selection+edited0002.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347056319006452338" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/SjSPZGhjKnI/AAAAAAAAA90/uZaeG_ITOkc/s200/Vienna+selection+edited0002.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div>The city of the Hapsburgs and their palaces, such as the Schönbrunn, built by Emperor Leopold I in the 17th century as a hunting lodge, with over 1,400 rooms! Austria’s much-loved Empress Maria Theresia had it expanded and redecorated in French Rococo style in the 18th century. The palace’s prominent visitors included Napoleon, who married Maria Theresia’s grand-daughter Marie Louise (as his second wife). </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Pamposh Dharhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18071865154341978248noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831114110547123588.post-91692835576092685512009-06-05T22:01:00.000-07:002009-06-05T22:08:12.769-07:00Postcard Friendship FridayI'm joining Marie Reed's <a href="http://www.cpaphilblog.com/2009/06/big-vloggy-hello-postcard-friendship.html">Postcard Friendship Friday</a> this week with a card I just received from a friend. Do check out the other posts for this Friday at <a href="http://www.cpaphilblog.com/2009/06/big-vloggy-hello-postcard-friendship.html">Cpaphil Vintage Postcards</a>.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/Sin4UderIMI/AAAAAAAAA60/gy9h01bLIR0/s1600-h/tantric+postcard0001.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344075463246160066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 281px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/Sin4UderIMI/AAAAAAAAA60/gy9h01bLIR0/s400/tantric+postcard0001.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>In this age of instant messages, it's rather nice to receive the odd postcard the old fashioned way, via snail mail. My friend Karishma is the only person I know who regularly sends postcards - I send them sometimes when from my travels. This is Karishma's latest, a picture of a Tibetan Tantric painting. The postcard doesn't tell us much about this painting, I'm afraid except to credit "Surendra's Tibetan Thanka Treasure" for it.</div>Pamposh Dharhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18071865154341978248noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831114110547123588.post-21673597072178842162009-06-03T18:26:00.000-07:002009-06-03T18:31:40.353-07:00Quotable Thursday No 7 at Terataii<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/SicjlNN2RQI/AAAAAAAAA6s/09q61l3VJWw/s1600-h/rodin_thinker.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343278605008258306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 176px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p5XZDs8EL3I/SicjlNN2RQI/AAAAAAAAA6s/09q61l3VJWw/s200/rodin_thinker.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />If you prick us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh? If you poison us do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?<br />-- Shakespeare (Merchant of Venice)<br /><br />This quotation shows that all human beings - of whatever race, community or religious persuasion - are basically alike and, by implication, equal.<br /><br />Go to <a href="http://terataii.blogspot.com/">Terataii Reiki and Counselling</a> to join this fun meme with a quote of your own, or simply to read what others choose for today.Pamposh Dharhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18071865154341978248noreply@blogger.com1