Farmer John

In the 1800s a dashing English explorer bravely sailed upriver in a gunboat to found his own kingdom in the inhospitable jungles of Borneo.

And now - almost two hundred years later - following in his footsteps, an Englishman seeks to do very much the same. Though perhaps with very much less vaunted ambition. Hence he comes only with an ardent desire to set up a measly 10-acre plot of land to call his own.


Master of all he surveys?
The endless drudgery of a dull 9-to5 job caused him to literally snap. Seeking to free himself from the inevitable pressures of the urban rat race, Farmer John has packed all his belongings into a simple satchel to hitchhike around the interiors of Sarawak. All in the hopes of finding his Shangri-la in the lush, verdant hinterland.

Paul : All your worldly belongings can fit in one bag.
John : Yes they can.
Paul : I don't know whether to weep or applaud!
John : Celebrate the simple life! Take yourself off the grid.
Paul : Living in a hut by the jungle.
John : It won't even be a hut. Actually just a platform.
Paul : I think I had a vivid nightmare like this once.

Yes. Getting back to nature means building a raised platform ( to avoid the creepy-crawlies and the occasional wild boar ) in the middle of the jungle with only a tarp to keep away the torrential rains. Eschewing the material consumerism - that is literally my reason for living, John's survivalist nature pushes him to live off the grid on a self-sustaining farm.

Hence the need to grow potatoes, watermelon and carrots. Perhaps a large leafy tree to sustain his hammock. And before that he needs to clear the land. Without any machines. With an axe and a hoe. Think Frontierville.

John : You should try it! The world's economy won't be able to sustain for long!
Paul : Are you predicting an end-of-the-world scenario?
John : Yes, you can move to my farm.
Paul : After two days, I'd run amok killing everyone with an axe.
John : Will keep the sharp implements away from you.
Paul : You weren't satisfied with just point-and-clicking on Frontierville?

Two days in the frontier? I'd probably go stir-crazy after a few hours in the farm. I didn't even know eggplants grew on a vine till six months back.

Notorious II : The Patient's Agenda

One of the good things about being in a foreign city - far away from everyone and everything you know - would be the relative anonymity.

No parents. No relatives. No friends. No one you even vaguely know so you can conduct yourself in the most obnoxious, shameless manner possible at the least provocation. Let down your hair and be a bitch if you wannabe. Monumental the number of rude waiters, crabby salesmen and nasty civil servants I've reamed out the past few months.

You wouldn't believe how liberating it can be.

Yes, you might laugh at it but it's nearly impossible to do so back in your hometown where chances of being recognized would be high! Not to mention you have to maintain at least some sense of decorum in public since there's always a chance that someone out there could be watching.

Or even worse a patient.


Paul : You saw me outside of the hospital. Now I'll just have to kill you.
Patient : W-what?
Paul : No worries. It won't hurt. Much.
Believe me, patients are always out there watching. It's hard trying to prescribe serious medical advice after being caught dancing on the tabletop utterly hammered with a smoking spliff in hand.

But of course - as long as you work in an inner city hospital, you don't actually remain blithely anonymous for that long. Notoriety comes along to club you on the head when you least expect it.

Even in a dark, smoky bar. Imagine my consternation when after shamelessly flirting with a cute twink-ish bartender with amazing dimples for about a half hour, he still comes back again and again, continually smiling and perfectly accomodating. Only makes me wanna push the envelope just a little more.

Bartender : The bill, sir.
Paul : Can I slip it into your skintight jeans?
Bartender : Sure, if that's what you want.
Paul : Oh, I want so many things from you. Are you gonna say yes?
Bartender : You don't remember me? I know you, doctor.
Paul : Oh shit. I've already seen you naked, haven't I?
Bartender : Well, not yet. I've just seen you around.

Seen me around?

Exactly how notorious am I getting! Immediately racked my brain trying to place that eminently adorable dimple. A patient? A relative? A part-time nurse? Fortunately I hadn't already slipped the dollar bill into the blue briefs peeking out from his jeans!

Why I Hate Marriage?

Gay doctor hides his sexuality from the family and pretends his lover is just a friend - while the mother nags him endlessly to be married.

Sound familiar? Déjà vu perhaps? That particular storyline could have taken a leaf from my book I swear! Eeriely enough, that familiar narrative runs in a serial Korean drama that has my mother hooked for the past few weeks. Yet the shockingly similar scenario in her own son's life doesn't seem to have rung any suspicious alarms in my usually savvy mother's head!

Life is Beautiful 인생은 아름다워 tells the story of an extended family who all live on a family compound in Jeju Island. Controversy erupts when the eldest son decides to come out of the closet after being hounded by his mother over his persistent state of bachelorhood.

Mother : You simply must watch this drama.
Paul : Well I suggested it.
Mother : There's a gay son who's a doctor!
Paul : I can already empathize.
Mother : And the mother desperately wants him to be married.
Paul : Kinda like you.
Mother : But he already has a boyfriend!
Paul : The similarities are uncanny.

I don't know how it could be any clearer. Maybe I could pick up Korean?


Paul : Shit. What just happened here?
Calvin : I have no damned idea.
Paul : Did I just come out only to have my mother ignore it?
Sometimes I don't understand my mother's Jedi mind-tricks playing does she or doesn't she know. Or is my mother heavily into denial? Then after that brief segue into gay doctors in domestic dramas, my wickedly sly mother immediately leaps onto her marriage soapbox.

Mother : Why do the men these days refuse to get married! Do you dislike marriage?
Paul : Dislike marriage? I am the biggest advocate of marriage this side of the Big Puddle!
Mother : So why aren't you looking around?
Paul : Maybe because I have been in a committed relationship for a few years already?
Mother : Oh wait, look the plane's boarding.
Paul : WTF.

Seriously. It was the closest I've come to an admission of homosexuality. If she'd stayed a moment longer, I might even have leapt out of the closet. Right in the lobby of the airport.

But then she spun off for immigration and customs. Denial much?

Maybe I should wave a rainbow banner instead.

You Had Me At Hello

Or at least 'You had me at barbecued meat' for Fabulous Felix.

Ever since I've known him, I've frequently marveled ( and secretly envied ) at the light-speed that he falls after a lovey-dovey meetcute. Just one look is enough for Felix to fall heads-over-heels in love/lust.

Felix : I'm in love!
Paul : You barely met the fellow!
Felix : But his voice!
Paul : Made you fall for him? Is he a seductive siren on the rocks wailing away?
Felix : Oh yes he is! So sweet! So handsome! So nice! And he gave me barbecued meat!
Paul : A gift that obviously represents his heart?
Felix : And it's black pepper!
Paul : How zesty!

I half expect to hear an entire host of angels singing in the background when they first met! And possibly the two of them later sharing bites of barbecued meat in the style of the Lady and the Tramp.


Love at first sight?
Somehow though I have never really believed in love at first sight. Never have, probably never will. Sure I find the starry-eyed concept terribly romantic in trashy paperbacks - and yes, I do swoon over the mushy scenes - but I don't see how any such quickie affair could possibly weather the painful hardships of a long-term relationship. After all surely our judgement at the first meet, with our mental faculties already moonstruck, would be terribly impaired! All those overpowering pheromones!

My heart might go pitter-patter over a handsome face but my head still keeps a pretty good rein over my actions. Already knew my ISO for a long while before I even realized that I had feelings that ran deeper than just a platonic friendship.

And for Charming Calvin? Was it love at first sight? I doubt it was for the both of us. Although I'll readily admit the first gift he gave me did cause my heart to skip a beat. Just a simple beige and brown striped tie. Yet it makes me smile. Even now.

You had me at hello? Well, not really. Maybe several dates down the line with a hello again.

All About Jazz

I'll admit I seriously underestimated the jazz festival here.

Thinking it would be a small shindig for the locals here, I was unprepared for the crowds of people packed at the venue for what seemed like the social event of the season. Seems like every ang moh for a thousand miles - and their attendant sarong party girls - had been issued an invitation!

Hate to pander to stereotypes but the truth seems to be everywhere here. Big Caucasian fellows with colourful Hawaiian shirts covering their beer bellies accompanied by big-haired permatanned sirens in halter tops and minis. Seriously, do they actually dress to match the cliche?


No sarong party boys to ogle over though, much to our dismay!
Fortunately they came though since I don't think there's anyone more well suited to rocking a party! Left to a typically conservative Asian audience, it would have been terribly dull with the undemonstrative guests standing still in place while the disheartened performers try their best to get them moving, to no avail. As it was, the jazz crooners played to an appreciative crowd milling around a sandy beach under a cool tropical night.

And yes, the sarong party girls can dance.

Even I managed to a bit of a clumsy shimmy.

Though oddly enough, the music turned out to be a bit less swing and a lot more blues. More Janis Joplin than Ella Fitzgerald. Found it odd that the organisers of Borneo Jazz searched the entire world for performers but neglected to invite local jazz songbirds such as Sheila Majid, Sean Ghazi and even Zee Avi.


Smacks a bit of discrimination? Seriously. What's up with that? A little sad that we had a Borneo Jazz Festival right here in Miri but we didn't showcase much of our local talents. No wonder Zee Avi's having a bit of a bitter heart.