Sirine & Ines

Sirine ©Lumière


©Lumière


Ines ©Lumière

Mushrooms

When I left for Vietnam, our house had a leakage problem. The roof was amiss and there was water pouring down the corridor and into my room everytime it rained.

A few days after I arrived, I chanced to glance upon the cabinet at the corner of my room near the door.

A corner of my room ©Dian
A closer look revealed something alarmingly out of the ordinary. A slow chill crawled up my spine at the horror of the reality which took root (literally)before me. I grimaced.. "Eew."


What the heck is that?? ©Dian
"Gigantic fungus in my room!!!"
I went slightly berserk and called my mother into the room.
She gasped. Then said, "What are you going to do? Are you going to throw away the cabinet... or take a picture of it first?"

Naturally, I reached for the camera.


A closer look reveals... ©Dian
The following morning I proceeded to drag out the cabinet but noticed that the mushrooms had not taken root for nothing. Oh no... would that they have stood before me trembling in fear? Never!! They shall not be so easily vanquished!! They have come to spread domination of their species in my room!!!

I stared down at the black mass of spores the mushrooms have barfed up overnight. Needless to say, I dragged the cabinet out of my room, but not without discovering some more mushrooms which have spent their lives at the BACK of the cabinet. Allah have Mercy...

My brother theorizes that the spores have been the cause of my violent coughing. "It can even cause death.." he said ominously. The next day, moved by his own deep concern for my health, he came to my room and cleaned out my air conditioner for me as he foresaw great tragic outcomes should the spores take root inside the air conditioner and spread its spores airborne.. I shudder at the thought.

I should say I wiped the awful black sporey mess on the floor. But my Mummy did it for me, because I was too grossed out. I'm a brat, so sue me.

Vietnam: Part IV, the Final Parting

Blue skies: The Nha Hang (restaurant) right by our house. The van is there to transport our luggage to the San Bay (airport) ©Dian
This shot was taken on my last day in Vietnam. I was most relieved to return home, I was becoming homesick of Haroun. I stopped to take this photo as I thought this may be the last time that I walked this familiar path.


My pink bag and trusty laptop; one last shot before I left for the San Bay ©Dian
This was a view that was routine to me 5 years ago as I would walk every morning to the school bus waiting to take us to school. Now I no longer walk this road to get on the bus to go to school. No longer am I 16, either. I'm 21 and I just finished law school. And the differences don't just end there either ;)

Vietnam: Part III

The masjid erected back during French colonial times ©Dian
Days in Vietnam were abysmally hot and the masjid was a welcome refuge in the midst of a Saigon I no longer recognised. This photo shows the portion of the masjid that has an unobstructed piece of the sky. In reality, this masjid lies inconspicuously between shophouses on a bustling road in the middle of the city. Rising above the masjid all around it, are various delapidated buildings, housing shops and cafes, bars and taverns. Looming directly behind it is the Caravelle Hotel. More distinctively, at the end of the road on the corner, is the magnificent marbled Sheraton Hotel, surging with money walking in and out of its great glass double- doors.


The then Russian Market is now the Saigon Tax Center ©Dian
In my teen years, I spent a large portion of my wanderings at the "Russian Market" where I practised my Vietnamese with the shopkeepers, who then spoke some English and Russian. Today the Russian Market is air-conditoned and the average Vietnamese in business no longer gestures emphatically in Vietnamese or speaks animatedly in gentil French, but shouts out in English, Japanese and Malay to the passing tourists. The drive for success of the civilian Vietnamese is amazing. From the slums of a war ravaged country, the never-say-die Vietnamese people are emerging with a dynamic economy, a progressive working class, and middle class citizens who are highly educated and speak good english, a mere three decades after the war.


A pool of water in the masjid area for ablutions ©Dian
I used to spend a great deal of time by this tranquil pool of water during Ramadhan and here I was again. Incredibly amidst all this development, the masjid and her inhabitants have remained virtually unchanged. With all the knowledge that was ever needed to succeed in life within hand, the intellect is so dulled by intra-community politics that the knowledge is not commuted into everyday life. And all around it, materialism catalysed growth which sprouted like mushrooms in the rain.

Vietnam: Part II

The house of my adolescent years ©Dian
My parents managed to secure the house we lived in before for our stay this time. It was wonderful to walk the same floor, climb the same stairs and look upon the same scenery that I have missed for close to 5 years. We didn't spend a lot of time at home though as we had to go to the city everyday.


My parents getting ready for school by the river directly in front of our house ©Dian
My parents had classes at 8 a.m. and we had to leave the house at 7 every morning. Whilst waiting for the driver to come to drive us to the city, my father was having a breather by the river whilst my mother did her homework. I was all set and ready to roll, waiting for my friend Jastina to get ready. She came along for the trip to Vietnam on my invitation, as I thought it would be convenient to have a friend to shop with whilst my parents are in class.


My friend Jastina, with my parents ©Dian
It was like this every morning. Leave for the city, shop, pray at the masjid, break for iftar, tarawikh and finally, back home at around 9.30 p.m. There were days that me and Jastina got up late as we were exhausted from the previous day and the driver came to fetch us at 9.30 a.m. before my parents finished their classes at 10. But materialism was the order of the day and soon enough I got very tired of shopping. I started missing my nephew terribly.

Vietnam: Part I

And we travelled upon the air ©Dian
On the 1st of November early in the morning, I departed Malaysian lands for the Vietnam of my adolescent years. I was there for a short holiday break and to spend the remaining days of Ramadhan with my parents.


My father, the schoolboy ©Dian
My father took 6 months leave from work to take a Vietnamese language course in Vietnam. He was a diligent enough student with a wife who is in the intermediate class and does his homework for him with the help of our Vietnamese maid who hails from far north in the city of Hanôi.

3.29 CGPA

UiTM di hatiku...©UiTM
Results were out day before yesterday, a day before I returned from my "kampung", Vietnam. That's another story. Yes, I am grateful I still maintained a 3 pointer :) Not exactly 1st Class Honours, but good enough. Last semester was a GPA of 3.30 and this semester was a 3.28 making a grand total CGPA of 3.29. Although this semester made more sense to me, it was more challenging than last semester albeit my somnambulent disposition in that semester.

It looks something like this... (like I'm supposed to be a linguist or anthropologist)

Course	Credit Hour	Grade
Non-Contentious Legal Matters 2	3	B
Civil Trial and Advocacy	3	B+
Magisterial Skills	3	A-
Opinion Writing	3	B
Advanced Criminal Procedure Code 2	3	B+
Advanced Civil Procedure 2	3	B-
Ethics	2	A-
Bahasa Melayu for Law 2	1	A-
Islamic and Asian Civilisation	2	A-