Self-inflicted Punishment

Kitchen floor that I damaged myself

Elective surgery and home renovation.  What do these two have in common?  Having experienced both in the past two weeks, I know the answer to thisquestion. They're both forms of self-inflicted torture! 

    How are they alike?  Both are a matter of choice. Both require preparation, planning, and expense. Both require a succession of strangers coming through your space (home or hospital room) on their own schedule, doing mysterious things.  In my case, both things could have rocked along indefinitely as they were.   But noooo -- suddenly I decided that improvements just had to be made and it was now or never!

    My two self-inflicted forms of abuse were elective toe surgery and kitchen floor reno.   Both had needed doing for quite some time, and I cleverly thought I could supervise the reno while I was housebound recovering from the foot operation.  Two birds with one stone and all that!  Well, it wasn't quite as bad as having two knee replacements at the same time, but it was close.

   There wasn't much physical pain after the toe operation.  But the kitchen floor!  There was a lot of psychic pain around that because --like an idiot -- I'd damaged it myself by using too harsh a chemical to clean the grout.  All I managed to clean, in truth, was the polished surface off the hand-laid tiles, as you can see in the photo.  Nobody to blame but myself, and my folly was visible to everyone who entered this place.  As for the toe, I inherited that problem and I'll spare you the pain of seeing photos of my foot showing why this surgery needed doing sooner or later.   

  So, both of these costly, complicated procedures -- surgery and reno -- cause pain or at least discomfort while they're going on, but you go forward anyway, envisioning vast improvement on the other side of the ordeal.  Both processes require lots of consultation and preparation, more than you'd expect.  Photos (or X-rays) are taken, trips to choose the tile, consultation on grout color or type of anesthesia, choosing starting dates, and so on. It's all about the same.  

     In the case of foot surgery, you need to prepare by laying in supplies because there's no going out for a while after you return home.  For the reno, you prepare by covering everything with sheets and moving small stuff as far away as possible.  But you still find dust on everything for ages after it's all over (or so I'm told).  I'm still finding it.

This helpful post-op boot lets you walk soon 

   In both cases everyday life is still possible but inconvenient.  You can function even the day after foot surgery, thanks to something that resembles a moon walking boot.  You can clump around on it, but you think twice before you do much unnecessary walking.  During reno you can still put together a meal if you can find your fridge (in the living room), your micro (on the floor in the study) and your toaster (in the laundry room). At least you can until the concrete (or is it cement?) is down and the tile is laid. Then the kitchen is off-limits for a while.   But here in Penang, "Domino's Pizza Delivers" and the outlet is less than a block away from our place.  Not healthy, of course, but all bets are off during reno and after surgery.  It's an allowable self-pity indulgence since you can't go out for chocolate or retail therapy.

    And, in the end, if you're lucky, you have a new floor that looks like this and a straight toe that will make you walk like you're twenty years younger.  (Though that remains to be seen.)  

   There's one thing I do want to say before I hobble off to reunite all the electrical appliances in the kitchen, and it is this:   I know it's unseemly, even ridiculous, for me to complain about my comfortable life and lovely home.  I should not be complaining about my kitchen renovation when there are folks all over the world who are living in refugee camps or have lost their homes to natural disasters. 

Newly completed floor.  What do you think?

   I shouldn't complain about having had my toe surgery either.  Rather, I should be grateful that I live in a place where capable doctors and good hospitals are available to me.  So, I may sound like I'm complaining, but I'm really not.  I know I'm blessed and lucky! 

Dog Abuse or People Abuse?

  Does this little dog in a little cage seem like he's abused?  Of course not.  But if you keep a dog this size in a cage this size outside in the Malaysian heat with just some cardboard on top for shade for 12 to 15 hours a day, would that be animal abuse? 

   If you left this little lapdog out in this cage during a torrential rainstorm for hours at a time, would that be dog abuse? 

 I think so.  And if that little, poorly-socialized dog barked and barked and barked almost every minute of those 12-15 hours he was penned up, would that be considered noise pollution or "people abuse"?  Again, I think so.

     Sorry to make this a personal lament, but I can't help myself.  And apparently I can't help the constantly-caged little dogs next door, either.    
  
     The backstory:  There's a social club / eatery right next door to our condo complex.  From the day they began renovating it two years ago, they've kept a dog on-site to act as a watchdog. I could understand that, as they worked alone far into the night getting the place ready for customers. The dog they had then was something like an Akita, so I really could believe that it was a guard dog or watchdog serving a purpose. 

     But when they brought in two little caged lapdogs, separated their cages, and let them bark non-stop from 11:00 a.m. until 1:00 or later at night. . . . well, these little doggies clearly weren't functioning as guard dogs because they barked (I should say "bark') all the time!

    Usually I didn't care too much, though I should have.  Two Christmases ago, I did beg the owners in a note hand-delivered over the wall to keep their dog from barking long enough for us to enjoy our family holiday dinner in peace and quiet.  They did comply with that request.  

        However, recently I've had surgery that has kept me close to home, so I've been working online with the TV off.  With the incessant yipping from over the wall, I can't concentrate and I can't escape, either!

    I've called all the authorities I can think of, but each one listens politely and then hands me off to another authority by giving me a phone number to call.  I don't think phone calls are going to do the trick, somehow. As soon as I am able, I'm going to hop on my motorbike and head down to the municipal offices to plead with someone in person.  

   My concerns are many.  On a humanitarian level, I do believe this is a form of animal abuse.  I also believe that it's legitimately a form of noise pollution.  In most developed countries it would be.  Here, maybe not.

   On another level, I think the incessant barking is causing undue stress to all of us living or working just across the fence from these poor, unfortunate dogs.  Our condo office manager has gone over there recently to ask them to make the dogs be quiet because he, himself, couldn't think enough to do his work.  So I know it's not just me.

   On a purely financial level. . . . those who own property in this condo and especially in our block may well suffer because our units are unrentable or unsellable with this going on year in and year out.  Who would rent a unit or continue to do so with a public nuisance like this going on for weeks, months, even years?  

   I wouldn't if I didn't have to.  I wonder what can be done?  I'm willing to try almost anything.

Am I Overly Sensitive to Noise?

        I try hard not be be an irritable old woman, constantly complaining about every little thing, especially in this blog, which is supposed to focus on cross-cultural comparisons.  But some venting is in order here, though I'm going to try hard to keep it "fair and balanced," like the Fox TV Network in the USA (Ha, ha!)  

     One of the most noticeable differences between Japan and Malaysia, it seems to me, is the tolerance for noise and what the nationals of each country find acceptable.  Coming back to Penang after a few months in Japan, I've found myself even more intolerant of ambient noise than usual.  So let me muse about it here, please.  
   

 First, let me point out that both countries have their own versions of noise pollution.  Take Japan, for instance.  Personally, I would maintain that Japan is a blessedly quiet country, one where you can ride a train or dine in almost-unearthly silence (unless junior high school kids are present).  It's a place where at night, except for the occasional "bosozoku" motorcycle rider, it's sosilent you can sleep, and even sleep in.  But then, I live out in the countryside where it's pretty unusual to have as many as three cars waiting in a line for the traffic light to change.  I enjoy that peace and tranquility.

    Others would disagree, saying that Japan is full of noise pollution.  But I maintain that on the personal level, the Japanese are generally quiet and like a peaceful atmosphere. However, I'll admit that on the official level, it's another story, especially when it comes to public safety.  Schools' PA systems blare out disaster-preparedness sounds to test them.  There are endless recorded announcements about standing behind the yellow line on train platforms, about how to ride an escalator safely, about being careful of this, that or the other thing.  Trucks have a whole vocabulary of beeps, announcements and warning sounds when they're about to make a turn, back up, or do anything besides go forward in a straight line. Stores are full of recorded messages about products for sale. Some run incessantly, while others are motion-sensor activated. They only bug you as you pass by, which is probably appreciated by the clerks who have to work within earshot of them. Buses and trains have plenty of recorded announcements which, by the way, are appreciated by the blind, at least the ones about when and where the transport will stop next.  Yup--many would declare Japan to be a really noisy country.

   In fact, recently there's been a big furor in Japan because the ever-increasing elderly population is becoming quite vociferous about and intolerant of the noise produced by children playing or students doing their extracurricular activities.  Check out this link for an interesting article about this problem.  http://www.japantimes.co.jp/news/2013/06/04/national/hey-kids-keep-it-down-graying-japan-annoyed-by-childrens-noise/#.UhvGBxxNCAY
Despite the fact that there are fewer and fewer kids born in Japan these days, there are more and more senior citizens who object to the cheerful sounds they produce.  What a conundrum, especially if it gives already-reluctant couples even one more reason not to reproduce! 

     So how about Malaysia?  Well, I don't think there's anyone who would claim that this "cheerfully chaotic" country is anything but noisy! Traffic, hawkers, groups of young people out celebrating a friend's birthday, kids shrieking and running around. Raucous mobile phone ring tones.  Even the bird calls are loud, varied and continuous, at least in the mornings.  But they're one of the things I love most about living where we do.  It's like living in the aviary at a zoo!  And some of those birds will reply if even an amateur like me calls out to them.  But I digress. . . . 
    
   What I surmise -- and I'm not alone, of course -- is that Malaysians have a higher tolerance for noise than people of many other countries.  Perhaps they don't even hear it.  In fact, they might even think something was wrong if they didn't.  If you've grown up with the five-times-a-day calls-to-prayer from Muslim mosques, I guess you'd think something was wrong if they suddenly disappeared. Personally, I think they're a wonderful part of the multi-cultural diversity of Malaysia.  But then, I'm not living right next to a mosque; you'd hear quite a different opinion from my expat friends who do. 

    In my next post, I want to tell you about my recent success at extinguishing a particularly irritating source of noise pollution.  Stay tuned!

   

     


     

Back in Colorful Penang

Mall decs for Hari Raya

       Well, it's been six months now, and I'm back in Penang for a while.  When I'm hereI can't help blogging because Penang is just so stimulating to the senses, especially visually.  It was the Hari Raya holiday when I arrived, so all the malls were decked out in holiday splendor.  Pictured here are the huge pendant lanterns hanging multiple stories down in Gurney Plaza.  The newly-opened Gurney Paragon didn't have any noticeable decorations displayed.  I suppose they were busy just trying to get their outlets open in time for the holidays.  No matter how well they do, however, I think the private eight-unit condominium across the street will give them a run for their money.  

And what are these gorgeous flowers?

  As always, I was transfixed by the riot of color that Penang boasts in every aspect of life, no matter how mundane.  Gorgeous tropical flowers are a given, of course.  I believe "riotous" would be the appropriate word to describe these, whatever they are.

What lucky folks live here, I wonder?

    Penang is known for  its architecture, along with Malacca.  It's the eye candy that keeps all of us visitors and expats taking photos right and left.  This home -- and it really is occupied by ordinary folks -- is just one example of glorious color.  Even the flip-flops outside the door match the color scheme.  So does the mysterious orange "N" up on the wall.  What's that all about, I wonder?

    Even the most ordinary things in Penang are unintentionally colorful, like these LPG canisters. 

    When I'm in Japan, I feel reluctant to wear bright colors or my usual large jewelry.  For one thing, I have nowhere to wear it.  For another, I already stick out like a sore thumb without attracting the attention of the Japanese folks around me, most of whom are clad in black, beige, gray and other subdued colors. But when I get to Penang, the colorful clothing all around seems to grant permission to wear vibrant hues myself. I don't have the figure for a rainbow-hued dress like this, but I'd wear it if I could!

Only for tall gals!

Eat, drink & be colorful.

   Malaysian people certainly aren't shy about wearing bright colors, and drinking colorful drinks, for that matter.  She looks modest and attractive, don't you think? 

    Yes, Penang is enough to inspire a person to put color onto a canvas.  Now I understand how Van Gogh, Matisse and such artists just couldn't resist the inspiration to reproduce the color that was all around them.

   I can't paint, but I can photograph, and I will! 
How could anyone resist?

The Pope and I

The restored heritage house I toured

  Well, the Pope and I have decided (independently) that tomorrow, Feb. 28, is a good day to step down and move on.  You all know what HIS plans are, but you don't know mine.  I plan to retire into a simple monastic life of quiet contemplation in the countryside outside Tokyo.  I'll be leaving my beloved Penang for a while to be at my husband's side, making muffins and homemade vegetable soup.  I'll probably keep blogging despite it morphing into "Musings on Life in a Japanese Country Town."  I'll have much more time to blog and much less stuff to blog about, so we'll see how it goes. . . .

     Meanwhile, I've tried to pack in as much Penang culture and excitement as I can before I depart (for a while.)  So, one morning recently I joined a Heritage Home Tour of this gorgeous yellow number pictured here.  It's owned by a chef and his wife who've restored this building for their home and a couple of others across the street, which function as their wine bar and restaurant. 

      The home tour was interesting and fun. I always look at those fabulous old buildings that have earned Penang its UNESCO status and wonder what they're like inside, especially the restored ones.  This one is beautifully done,  There's a lovely lap pool beside the house and the original carriage house has been converted into a super guest house that would rent for a lot in a boutique hotel.

Imagine cooking for a household on this original stove!

   Since one of the owners is a chef, the couple has turned the original cooking area into a well-equipped  test kitchen, from which Chef does a TV cooking program called "Chalk and Cheese."   (Which I just watched on TV an hour or so ago.)   They've preserved the original cooking station  -- I don't dare call it a "stove" -- and here it is. Two charcoal burners and some other kind on the right in this picture.  Dunno what it actually was or how it worked.

    I've yearned to restore a house like this myself, but the prices of dilapidated old Chinese shop houses and homes have literally skyrocketed in the past few years.  Then, after you've purchased the property, it costs a fortune to restore these buildings to their former grandeur and, at the same time, make them livable by modern standards.  This couple, for example, turned one whole bedroom into a roomy, modern bathroom.  But, like many other things here in Penang, it took three tries to get the shower stall the way they wanted it to be.

      I can't help but think, when I go through these lovingly re-done homes, "What will they do 10 or 20 years down the road when they're old?"  There are always stairs and often no handrails or bannisters.  There is usually no bathroom downstairs (or upstairs, depending).  In fact, this one above had an outhouse when they bought it, so they had to install two bathrooms.  I suppose if they ever get crippled up with arthritis or need to use a wheelchair, they'll just sell off their hand-crafted, historic home for a handsome profit and move on.  

Even with restoration they found time to read 

    Still, there's a great appeal to knowing the history of one's home, to having an aged sepia photo of the distinguished Chinese grande dame who owned it, to have stumbled upon the original blueprints done in the architect's own hand.  To fill it with things you've lovingly collected in travels around the world.  To have people want to pay money to tour your place and hear about how you did it.  To strive to remain faithful to the original and find elements that fit into it compatibly.  It must be a lot of fun and something that could keep you busy for months, if not years.

    Would I want to have the pleasure of restoring and decorating such a place?  Of course!  But I'm not so sure I'd actually want to live in it.