Sometimes, There Is No Accounting For Taste

Published August 2011

I will be the first to admit that I am a typical hypocrite. I write, but I hardly read. I give advice but I rarely take it. I say black when what I really mean is white. And you know those people who are fully capable of enjoying a movie without having read the book? Yes, I'm that woman. And if I hear someone saying “But the book was so much better than the film,” just one more time, I shall do them, and quite possibly myself, an injury. Sadly I am unable to think if a situation where it is the other way around vis a vis film and novel. If you have an example of a film that's either been turned into a book or is better than the book, please let me know.

Now I have to come clean and admit that I love the Twilight movies. Sigh and roll your eyes if you must, I understand and don't hold it against you. I've not read the books and although I have nothing but respect for Stephanie Meyer, I don't see myself veering off to the Young Adult section of the bookshop to pick up any of her literary offerings in a hurry. Apparently not only am I a typical hypocrite, I'm a snob to boot.

In all honestly I wasn't aware of the popularity of her novels until the first film came out. I trundled along to watch it with the rest of the world, not knowing exactly what to expect but remembering that I had low expectations, having already suffered through a few stinkers in the weeks prior. Anyone who knows me would have a hard time believing that I, Shan Sandhu, would willingly go to the cinema, under no duress, and pay good money to be crammed into a funky- smelling, battered cinema with a large number of teenagers. I could almost feel the surge of young, angsty hormones floating around, no doubt brought about by the prospect of swooning over Robert Pattinson's Edward character for 2 hours. Yep that pale guy who sparkles when he's in sunlight, whose constantly pained expression makes him look as though he's got a volatile rumbly tummy.

It is not that I am a glutton for punishment, and trust me, I am very fussy about the movies I do watch. The only reason that I was sat in my seat, glued to the big screen was due to one very important factor: The movie had vampires in it. True story. I love me a good vampire or werewolf movie I do. I don't enjoy sci-fi and I'm not a fan of the general horror genre at large. You can keep the machete-wielding guys in hockey masks. I'll just take my vampies and my wolfies, thanks.

While we're on the subject, I remember that feeling of pure joy and abject happiness when the first Underworld movie made its rounds; vamps versus werewolves and Kate Beckinsdale in all her black leather hunter broodiness. Awesome, awesome movie. Low on the horror scale but still highly watchable. I've got fond memories of much-loved films such as The Howling (Part 1. Only), Bram Stoker's Dracula (visual mastery from Francis Ford Coppola. A stellar cast. However, I am unable to explain Keanu Reeves), Salem's Lot (the 2004 version with Rob Lowe, Donald Sutherland and Rutger Hauer kept me up nights) and my personal favourite, An American Werewolf In London. I have the director's cut on dvd and it cost me about RM200 at the time but I never once regretted that purchase and I still watch it from time to time.

What I enjoyed about An American Werewolf was that it got the job done. I sat, I watched, I laughed at the right parts, I got scared when I was supposed to, I hid under my duvet, I fast-forwarded the gory bits, I avoided empty tube stations from then on, and CCR's Bad Moon Risin' will always give me a little shiver each time I hear it. Even a family holiday to London many years ago left me with a queasy, anxious feeling especially while walking around Leicester Square – the location of the most pivotal scenes in the movie. To my mind , American Werewolf delivered what any good vamp/were movie should. A scare so good it was visceral.

But back to Twilight. I was aware that it was campy, teenage love stuff but what I wasn't prepared for was how reeled in I became. Could Edward save Bella in time and stop James? Would Bella's hair ever look anything other than perfect? In the greater scheme of things who cares, right? Well I did. I gave in, sat back and enjoyed the film for what it was: Entertainment. And when I found out that the subsquent films featured werewolves I was sold - even if they're ridiculously handsome, ethical, morally sound wolfies who don't go around eating people willy-nilly.

Granted the Twilight flicks are not your usual bloody, gory fare, in fact I don't think the vamps even have fangs, but like I said: I'm a typical hypocrite.

What They Might Not Tell You In The Guide Books

Published August 2011

Over the past few years I've often found myself acting as unofficial trip advisor to friends and friends-of-friends visiting Kota Kinabalu for the first time. I've finally realised that I have a set number of practices as to places we visit together (if the person I'm with enjoys a drink, my life becomes easier tenfold) and bits of advice on where to go and what to do.

Bearing in mind that I am not exactly a Lonely Planet guide book, nor am I here to arrange sightseeing tours (you're capable, do it yourself) I decided to examine the most common little 'suggestions' I've often given to visitors in the past. These are only some of the main points I find myself repeating regularly. There are quite a few more but in an effort to keep today's column comfortably readable, I'll stick to three points:

ISLAND STUFF

When visiting any of the five islands (Manukan, Sapi, Sulug, Mamutik and Gaya) in Tunku Abdul Rahman Park always be mindful of times and days. For example, if you head over to to an island of your choice at around 9:30am on a normal working day, the chances are high that you will be able to grab a prime spot for sun-worshipping or a good table under the shade. You'll be in island bliss while the rest of the tourists are still working their way through the breakfast buffet lines at their respective hotels.

Granted there is no guarantee that these spots will be entirely free of sand flies, red ants or assorted other pests (I'm thinking of the two-legged variety) but at least you'll be able to grab a few hours of lazy fun before the hordes make their way over from the mainland. Also, the further you get from the jetty, the quieter it may be. But if you're lugging around an eskie or assorted lilos, it can work out to be quite the hike back to catch your boat.

Be aware that Sapi island is home to macaque monkeys; they've been known to make off with sunbathers' belongings so be vigilant – they seem to be attracted to shiny things and plastic bags. Keep clear of the resident monitor lizards who will head over to say hello especially if they smell food. Please resist the urge to get too close, or to feed them. This goes for the monkeys too.

While we're on the topic of islands, it is best to return to the mainland between 3pm to 4pm. No matter how sunny of a day it is, the winds tend to change and the boat ride back any later can become quite choppy.

FOOD STUFF

Seafood is another highlight for visitors to KK. At the risk of being blunt, don't assume that just because a shop or a restaurant appears 'simple' or basic that their prices will hover around rock bottom. This goes double for bars and pubs. When in doubt, ask. Unsure of standards? For the most part the general rule of thumb is very simply this: If the place is packed, the food is usually good. Do note that this may not necessarily apply to a bar that happens to serve food. But I'm sure you can figure that out for yourself.

If you're waiting for a table take the time to have a discreet look at what diners are tucking in to. If unsure, there is absolutely no harm in asking politely. I still do that on occasion, especially when trying out a restaurant or coffee shop for the first time. I've actually made a few friends that way, and was introduced to the best laksa I've ever had.

TRAFFIC STUFF

Yes. Traffic. Never, ever make the mistake of underestimating KK's traffic. You will end up suffering dearly. I have lost track of the number of times visitors from cities such as Kuala Lumpur, Jakarta and Bangkok have looked down their noses at me when I've told them to be aware of peak hour traffic in KK. “You don't know what a traffic jam is until you've been in one of ours,” is the generic, often sarcastically snorted reply.

True, but KK is unique in the sense that a trip that could take two minutes driving time may stretch up an hour sometimes. I am not making this up because I've been stuck in a crawl like this before. The days leading up to any one of our many religious celebrations and public holidays are usually manic as everyone tries to get their shopping out of the way. But there has been the odd day when traffic magically appears with no warning. I can't stress this enough, be prepared for anything. The roads in our city centre are not quite equipped to deal with the amount of vehicles heading (usually) into town while the number of car owners are increasing on a daily basis. Also, there is no excuse for inconsiderate drivers, of which we are stuffed to the brim with, so I won't even touch on this subject. I suspect, however, they don't help with the problems either.

If you've got a flight to catch or an appointment to keep, please find out more about the traffic situation in your area before you pick a time to head off.

These are the few that I can think of at the moment. As is with travel anywhere else, be aware of your surroundings, be polite, be respectful and keep an open mind. Sabah has its special moments and if you're too busy being judgemental or comparing it to other cities, you might just blink and miss something special.

Tiring of Reality TV

Published August 2011

Reality television. It really is turning into the bane of my existence. Channel surf these days and one would be hard pressed to miss such programs that are invading with an almost pandemic ferocity.

The 'Next Top Model' shows, the 'I Can Dance/You Can Dance/We All Can Dance' efforts and the 'Looking For True Love With A Bunch Of Strangers' offerings – these are just the proverbial cherries on the mountain of mindless small screen drivel that is seriously starting to hurt my gray matter, otherwise known as a brain.

I am aware that there are some great shows, like The Biggest Loser and American Idol for example, which in my opinion set the benchmark for what the end-game purpose of these programs should be – namely to positively change the lives of contestants and participants. But the rest? It's difficult to find a reasonable explanation other than to judge and jump to sweeping generalizations about money hungry glory hounds looking for their 15 minutes of fame and celebrity has-beens trying to inch their way back into the spotlight.

But perhaps I'm being a bit harsh. As mentioned, there are pros to reality television. Sadly, I think I'm starting to lose sight of that. I'm someone who couch potates on a very regular basis. I don't read for relaxation as a large majority of my work requires a ton of reading so the only real way for me to unwind is to lie in front of the telly on weekends. My whole point of loving television is that it provides me with a bit of escapism from the daily grind. But with the onslaught of this sort of programming? Not so much. Again, not all shows are bad. Some really do break the mould and try their best to stay away from the sadly predictable formulas that a lot of these programs have adopted time and time again. Unfortunately, they are the minority, not the norm.

But why do people, in spite of themselves, still watch reality tv? Is it due to the prospect of passive voyeurism? That we are secretly eager to observe the (supposedly unscripted) nitty gritty of the daily lives of others? I read somewhere that one of the main reasons for the popularity of reality shows is because audience members feel as though they can relate to the participants. I had a bit of trouble getting my head around that initially but in hindsight it does come across as a reasonable explanation, as seeped in fantasy as it sounds.

Now my biggest concern is the future of such entertainment. Will we, the public, tire of shabby plots and worn out ideas? I, for one, look forward to the day when well-crafted, witty and original shows return. In the meantime all I can do is patiently wait for the death rattle of reality television.

Libra No Longer

Published August 2011

In January of this year we were made aware of a shocking discovery: There was a 13^th zodiac sign. Astronomers the world over called for a rehaul of Western astrology and the signs as we know them. Why or how did this happen? I honestly don't really care but for the sake of some form of journalistic integrity, let's just say it had something to do with the moon's gravitational pull on the earth over thousands of years. Google it yourself, that's about all the science you're going to get from me.

Oh sure, I know that horoscopes, just like tales of the monster hiding in your closet, are not to be taken seriously (though my 8 year old self would have strongly disagreed). And for the large part, horoscopes are a bit of harmless fun and fluff. All my years of smugly excusing my behaviour on the fact that I was a wiffly-waffly Libran were suddenly thrown out the window. Imagine a movie montage if you will, of all the times I'd happily said “Oh that's because I'm a Libran. We're so indecisive / self-indulgent / flirtatious / frivolous / lazy / prone to navel contemplation” and how it all came flooding back. I was not pleased at these new turn of events. Imagine an artist having her license revoked. Handcuffed, caged, impotent. That's how I felt. Especially when it was made known to me that I had, thanks to the presence of that 13^th sign Ophiuchus (yeah, try saying that real fast 5 times), been turned into a Virgo.

No disrespect to Virgos intended. I take my hat off to you guys. It can't be easy always being referred to as the virgin in the group – but please understand that everything I had been made to believe from tacky yearly astrological almanac books with hearts on the cover suddenly didn't apply to me anymore. It shook me, I tell you. To my very core. Now you're probably wondering why anyone in this day and age would be so silly as to believe something a writer probably concocted while carrying out some mundane task such as sitting on the loo, churning out excerpts like “Today your heart will be as free as a bird” or “Discover a hidden talent which will bring you much joy” - you know, those old chestnuts. Once I regained my composure and stopped screaming obscenities at the computer I did a bit more reading online. Was I overreacting by behaving like an unhinged banshee? Or were there others that felt my pain?

Indeed there were. 'Lots and lots' would be the best way I could describe the (possibly) hundreds of thousands who were equally bewildered and confused, wondering if they should even bother to read their daily horoscopes any longer. Feeling somewhat lost, I imagine. And then there were those who simply refused to accept their new 'scopes. Stuck to their guns, they did and good on them. Though there has to be a little part of them that hurts every time they get to the comics page of the newspaper and just happen to glance through the horoscope section.

As for me, I've gone cold turkey. No more horror-scopes for me. If my heart isn't as free as a bird or I don't discover a hidden talent which will being me much joy, I don't think I'll mind too much. I'm too busy getting through and dealing with this thing we call life. That being said, I'll contradict myself and state that I'm still open to the philosophy of the Chinese zodiac. A Fire Snake if anyone's interested.  

Column Ideas That Could Have Been

Published August 2011

COLUMN IDEAS THAT COULD HAVE BEEN

In about 2 months, I will be saying goodbye to my job as chief scribbler and head troublemaker for a local online magazine, and will instead use the free time obtained to do various other things in an effort to really and truly get in touch with my psyche as well as my inner child - whom I fondly refer to as Mini Me. Truth be told I'm secretly a little pleased to be able to act my shoe size and not my age for a bit.

Love my job, love the company I work with and my colleagues are super individuals whom I've actually grown quite fond of, but I was starting to feel as though I had hit a creative plateau – sadly a common malady that strikes fear into the hearts and minds of fellow scribblers the world over.

It seems to have become a regular, almost healthy practice to accept that the shelf-life of most media related jobs is between 2 to 3 years. If you're feeling sluggish and even a little unmotivated you're not doing yourself, or the publication you're attached to, any favours.

While I look forward to the luxury of working at my own pace from my little office at home I plan to seriously focus on my personal writing and will also take up a few refresher classes online with the Gotham Writers' Workshop.

I also intend to pay more attention to this column. Fingers crossed I'll be able to churn out regular, somewhat intelligent writing.

Thanks to encouragement and motivation from some of my favourite op-ed writers around the region, I've been toying with ideas on how to sharpen the content of this column. “What gets you going?” one asked. “When something gets under my skin and I feel like complaining about it. Those pieces seem to be the most popular,” I replied somewhat complacently. Well, life is such that no one likes a whiner and I genuinely felt as though I was irritating myself (yes that is possible), trying to wax lyrical on existentialism and the winter of our discontent. It is much more fun writing about the random, often ridiculous thoughts that rattle around in my head and I was thinking about columns ideas that have been thankfully shelved and will not see the light of day.

Politics

Nope. Nyet. Nein. If there is one stance I've consistently maintained, it's that I have no business sticking my snout where it doesn't belong. I have a weak grasp of local and national politics at best. Better to leave this topic in the hands of my very capable counterparts – people who actually do know what they're talking and writing about – as opposed to my unsophisticated and uneducated take on world issues.

Happy Hour

While my alcohol-inspired gallivants around town are fun I doubt that anyone would want to read about how many gallons of the good stuff we've managed to quaff. I've had the privilege of partaking in some truly exceptional libations, and I've enjoyed some epic sessions thanks to generous, energetic mates who imbibe with equal enthusiasm - but would you honestly want to read about the beer before liquor rule or our adventures in upchucking? Natch, I didn't think so. Unless you really do. In which case, drop me an email. You sound like my kind of people. We should hang.

Candace Bushnell Influenced

Sex and the City's rapier wit, superb couture and global success aside, I was always taught to write about what I know. I am 10kg over my ideal weight, I do regular battle with bad skin, bad hair and bad teeth, and I look like I haven't slept in about a year. Marry that with the fact that I am unable to dress myself in a suitably girly manner (I blame my chunky rugby player legs – the source of much teasing as a kid), and you've got someone who shouldn't be writing relationship columns. An avowed singleton (see above points for reasons why), I've got no game. Also, I don't do pink.

Revenge of the Useless, Sarcastic Kind

I have to be honest. I gave this the most thought and spent hours drafting open letters to those I felt had wronged me somehow, suggesting highly humorous ways for us to work through our problems. The end result is comedic but something tells me that the recipients wouldn't appreciate it. A hilarious form of therapy for me. For said recipients, not so much. I can see the funny in it but some people just don't know how to laugh at themselves. This is why they should get me to laugh at them, for them. I'd be providing a public service of sorts. Right?

Travel, Tourism, Why Sabah Rocks

Sabah, being any tourism ministry's dream come true, has had millions of articles written on how one should traipse in and around our beloved home. Information on things to do, what to see, where to dive and how to eat are readily available online, not forgetting the hundreds of books dedicated to our history, nature, culture and wildlife.

Does Sabah really need yours truly to lower the fine standards set by better writers before me? The answer here is no. You'd want to read positive, helpful and well put-together information. Not my rambling as I sit here, alternating between finishing this piece and contemplating my navel, telling myself that I really don't need to be having bah kut teh (a delicious Chinese pork bone tea soup) for dinner, but knowing that it's what I'll probably end up buying on my way home from work tonight.

Goodbye, diet. Hello, expanding waistline.

I seriously could ramble on, but the computer's app tells me that I'm fast approaching the 1000 word count mark. Bah kut teh takeaway here I come.