Hooray! 4 weeks a.k.a. 1 month anniversary of my self-employment-hood. Looking back, happiness was indeed ++ but not so on stress level.

Yesterday I started having really bad dreams again, a recurring theme whenever I get stressed or if my sleep patterns get out of whack. I found myself filling every void when things fall apart, forcing everyone to stay together to achieve our collective goal, a habit perhaps detrimental to my mental well being, but necessary. As I unwittingly drain my emotions, I lose my ability to stay composed. How do one recharge mental energy? Meditation could only shut it off for a while, but the chattering will come back in the sleep.

On the bright side, catching up with friends under a total different pretext of looking for a next gig was great! It’s also wonderful seeing others taking the leap or planning to take the leap into the unknown, except most have opted to try the high-growth startup route instead of building a lifestyle business. Expectedly, the urge to join them in the quest of burning other people’s money to build new technology is always there, but my priority is still to build the music business to a certain size before letting it run in autopilot and hop onto other things.

And in between all these buzz, this not so secret mega concert is shaping up. Here’s our 3rd combined practise:

The size of the orchestra is so big, there’s no rehearsal room that fits. Conducting this is no other than Darence, the one teacher who has literally given everything he has, to put music into the lives on many generations of band students. I’ve also spent a disproportionate amount of time on it thus far, and has started counting down the remaining 19 days of this challenging project.

The “challenging” bit is basically one mad man’s idea to the next and next and by the time everyone’s ideas comes together, it’s completely crazy yet first-of-a-kind. From both high school and college section, the orchestra consist of roughly 80 from chinese orchestra, 80 from concert band, and 80 from string ensemble, together with 80 from choir, 24 festive drums, 6 emcees, an unknown (120?) number of wushu performers, mime actors and a guest performer from the alumni, all playing one single 80 minutes long oratorio, in a setting that’s no less ambitious than NDP, and yet low budget and completely LIVE (no recording).

Once the music is written (i.e. my contribution to the craziness for scoring to fully exploit all instruments), the real challenge was the coordination between many teachers and staff and student leaders. I should take this chance to credit Dropbox (since I haven’t paid them a cent) and Microsoft Excel for being the most relevant tools available today for such projects. And the complexities only builds when the technical team doing the stage, sound, lights, camera and multimedia comes into the picture.

Taking a hindsight view at this mid point (the concert is in 3 week’s time) I had no choice – I had to break new ground. And as every composer / arranger will tell you, the fear is always not knowing who you’re writing for until when the work is done, because redoing it is usually tougher than writing it 1st time.

Nevertheless, I’m surprised and proud of the student’s resilience in the face of this project – none of them had a choice when they are co-opted into this, and we had less rehearsals than a professional group. Coming week they will move out of this shelter and face the elements for the first time, not to mention Singapore facing an extreme dry spell at the moment.

I hope I can recalibrate my own mind set, by watching how these Hwachongians cope with the demands of a block test the week before and after the concert week, their individual group’s demands (some had their own concert lined up, others are going for world competition), and the modern student life itself.

For this is why I went back to school (for many of you who has been asking, here’re the answer that hopefully make you happy) – to relearn that spirit of can-do that made it possible for me to survive my JC years. Not just doing because it’s a job, but because we can, and we will make it happen, and with that we will make a difference.

p/s the school is raising funds, check their website for details.

Back in October, as soon as we knew that YC was expecting, we were already thinking of taking a break in anticipation of the challenges of pregnancy. Amos’s wedding at Bali presented itself as a great opportunity.

4 months later, even with much regret for missing out on work related items, we’re here. And it sure was less anxious than our last trip, where I literally worked in the resort. That was 2010.

The wedding went really well (it was a Hindu and Chinese wedding, so it had everything). But today was really the best – we spent quality time doing nothing. Doing nothing in front of the Indian Ocean.

The beating of the waves silence the chatty mind, and the vast sea prevented any form of daily prejudices from surfacing – perhaps except when the mosquitos ambushes my delicious arms and legs.

It’s forced meditation, and after 4 hours of it, I had to take out the phone and write this down here, as a reminder that hitting the reset button, even when I’m out of job, is so important for the well being of the soul.

We felt the sun moving from one corner of the hut to another, identified every butterfly and tried naming every plant. There was no sense of loneliness – it’s more lonely on the MRT.

This would be the last trip before we dive in to complete as much work as physically possible. With precious 3 months to go, our honeymoon period will come to a close and a new family life will begin.

And then, we will all take baby steps together, for a happier tomorrow.

I took the morning off.

Like, I have to literally “take leave” from myself. I’m such a bad employer of myself to the extend that I already overworked my mind 2 weeks after my last day – looks like there’re lots to learn for setting the right pace when working alone because it’s so easy to go into overdrive.

Good thing I took the morning off. I ironed some shirts and prepare for next week’s trip to Bali, while spending some time away from MIDI sounding band music and emails in general. And to write this.

At this juncture, I’ve collected some data based on simple metrics I set up earlier. Now my week looks like:

• 30% actual music arranging / editing / publishing work (i.e. Sibelius time)
• 30% meeting existing customers, as well as old friend + new people, discovering (and rejecting) opportunities, for the purpose of establishing an additional source of income (including travel time etc.)
• 20% of family time (including ante-natal classes yay!) – which I think I will hold constant until when baby girl is born
• 20% of daily chores (making own coffee now!) as well as really bad time management (slacking, gaming, facebook) which some people say is necessary to reset the mind, but I’m not so sure

And that’s bad because the following hasn’t even been scheduled in:

• Learning / Retooling just in case I ever had to go back to full time employment
• Exercising – which is like OMG-I-quit-my-job-and-I-still-can’t-find-time-to-go-jogging-ly maddening to me
• Homey time (which my L!fesparks team is going to kill me)
• Hobbies and other personal development (including redoing this blog itself to 2014 looks)

Not to mention if there are new opportunities to spend time to explore.

The importance of focus wasn’t forgotten though. Which means I might need to start doubling the number of “no”s I say to people. The first 20% of “no”s are easy, the next 30% I’ve learned to say when I had a job. The subsequent 30% is really tough, when only the last 20% or even 10% is what I should really be doing.

Time is really the most critical resource a freelancer has – and I’m going to spend the rest of the afternoon just optimising my time management mindset, processes and tools.

Wow how long has it been? A year just went past without me noticing much of it. Too much done, too little achieved. Seen a lot, caught a few. Spent the time, not everything reciprocated. Introversion increased, perfection decreased. Wrote code, abandoned; wrote music, unsatisfied. At least I brought my wife back to US to remind myself of the years gone by, so that the trajectory of the new year becomes clearer.

Following the global traditions of planning for the new year, I’ve done my high level thinking. From a prioritisation perspective, the anticipation of a new family member makes this pretty straight forward to gain the top spot, and yet extremely hard to nail down the exact resources required, especially not by a couple who has never had to give 24/7 attention to anything before, notwithstanding doing this in a foreign island.

Between asking around for pass-me-downs and doing the math of medical cost in disbelieve, I was also resolute in either ramping up or killing this time sucking business of curating music for band. Originally, I thought the decision would be simple – if Useful Music’s simple business model is valid 7 years ago when it was formed, I would have quitted my job and live by its decent return by now. 7 years of working in the enterprise ocean taught me the meaning of focus, and why the grey area between “success” and “failure” is as wide as the appraiser’s visible spectrum.

The good thing is, things have changed in the past 7 years. People changed too, both literally moving in and out the island, as well as changing their minds about their needs and wants. Dealing with new motivations, new customer segments, and new markets energises me. However, when people ask me why am I in it, I usually gave the same old story of where I came from and why this is important to for an amateur to perform and be respected by their respective audience, the lot of which loves them because they are family, friends, teachers, and/or civil servants in charge of music education.

While that story is true, what intrigues me intellectually, and probably millions in the world, is how the vast majority of the money (and thus people) in the “music industry” is in distribution and patronage, and so little into defending culture, engineering mood and happiness, lifting people out of poverty, forming new identities, etc. The intersection of the science of sound wave, mathematics, sociology, history, and even modern technology, was not brought to the fore by government R&D or public/private enterprises, and we continue to rely on some madly creative person meeting a grand dose of luck to break through the noise generated by the “distribution” and “patronage” people.

Don’t believe me? Who’s your idol? If you blurted out a fancy singer’s name you’re probably the customer of the “patronage” people. It’s not that it’s bad, but music plays an important role for your well being – you, as in the community of homo sapiens – just like the societies of the past. Do you think twice before what you put into your ear that same way you think twice before what you eat / see? Put it another way, if there’s legislation against porn and restrictions against swear words on TV, why not music? Do governments not want to educate the public about music so much just in case they need to harness it’s potential to control you like how Christmas music is doing to retail sales?

Back from the tangent: this tall order, of placing music where it is supposed to be in society, was spinning around my head for many years, with no way of pulling it back to earth such that it becomes a family-feeding stream of revenue. In between, we scrape bits of marketing dollars from shopping malls, celebrate a break-even recital with money we don’t have, accept whatever music education system that pays and just keep the kids struggling with the fingering on their instrument, hoping that one day they will find their calling in music, or their parents will alleviate them from their agony. While the majority live by education dollars by parents and MOE, some would bite the bullet and go into “distribution”, which brings us back to square one.

Thus, 2014 (up to 2017) is a chance I’m giving myself, to see if I can reconcile some of these thoughts, into something that can eventually create jobs, new types of jobs, knowledge worker type jobs, and not the printing and renting and shipping of badly edited manuscripts by dead people half way across the earth. A world where we place importance in music like we place importance in the grammar of speech, the colours of the rainbow and the accuracy of the CPU clock; a world where music guides you to meditate, to cross the street, and to make sense of your own identity.

I hope to be able to share this with you – through my blog still – when I figure it out.

What’s your new year resolution other than slimming down?

My mathematics superstitions confirmed this as it’s the golden ratio point, the point where our time already spent on this trip was ~1.6 times the time left. So thus it was a great time for us to recapitulate our Canada trip and head back into USA.

Since Vancouver was really known for the great number of Chinese settlers, 三叔母 treated us to Shanghai cuisine. Besides food, B.C. was going through their state and local elections at that time, and there were many placards along the streets with pictures of contenders for public office, many of which are Chinese too. It was ironic that sometimes we Chinese can feel uneasy in another Chinese community, when we expected it to be primarily Caucasians.

* * *

May 2 (Thursday)

Our time in Vancouver seemed short, but fruitful nonetheless. We managed to see Yiyang who’s studying in UBC on our final dinner on the evening after whale watching, and Gregory the future policeman on our last breakfast before flying off. After a hearty home cooked breakfast, 三叔母 sent us to the airport and we thanked her profusely for hosting us and pampering us. An Alaskan Airline propeller plane elevated us for our final view of Canada.

Even though Seattle was just 2.5 hrs drive away, we chose to fly as firstly it was more economical, and we gathered that the airport re-entry might be kinder to us (vs. the road border, which we might be trapped in a jam or something). Turned out this Japanese American immigration officer was rather impolite (not rude, just impolite) in questioning us (“I just said did you or did you not exit the North American continent?”). Dear was taken a back slightly, but that dissipated when she met up with Sue-Ing, her high school friend, who took time out of work to drive us from SeaTac airport to her research lab at South Lake Union. Cho Yeow also came from UW to join us for lunch, but we only got settled into our hosts’ humble place after work, but not before we marched around Seattle Center (around the space needle and EMP) all afternoon, then joined Sue-Ing to pick up Zen from pre-school, and released the day-time nanny from taking care of Zac at home.

Earlier, I stopped by Seattle in the winter of 2009 for a short work trip, but this trip was different. The most visible change was this mini construction boom, both north and south of downtown. My last meeting in Amazon was still in PacMed, but they have since moved to Day 1 North and Day 1 South, also in South Lake Union, which we strolled to in the afternoon while waiting for Sue-Ing to end her day.

The other conspicuous oddity was the weather – it was bright and sunny (the UV hurts!) for all 4 days we were here. I finally bought Dear a pair of sunglasses wishing to have bought it earlier (especially in Niagara Falls and when we were out at sea whale watching) because it was hurting the eyes just to see. We also smirked at the T-shirt that read “Seattle Rain Festival, Jan 1 to Dec 31″ thinking, what rain? But it wasn’t funny towards the end, as the sun could literally beam you dizzy in a few minutes.

But I was dizzy before the sun even hit me. I wanted to come back to Seattle so bad, I still cry sometimes thinking of some of my life’s choices.

Once, when I was younger, I thought I could live the rest of my life here. 8 years later, I have matured a fair bit in learning how to cope with life’s demands, acquired a larger palette of life’s meaning and possibilities, and yearned an increasing amount of stimulus from my environment, social circle, and my labor. These 4 days of primarily rest time (it was a much needed breather from hectic Canada) gave me the opportunity to reflect on that thought in a new context, one that requires space and time for family, for pursuing life’s purpose, to connect wiht the present, and, last but not least, space and time to be one with mother nature alone.

I didn’t reach a conclusion. Perhaps this will be the only regret for this trip. Moreover, our stay with Cho Yeow and Sue-Ing gave me more dimensions to think about life in Seattle. You see, in the years of 2004, the people I hang out with are either software people in Amazon and Microsoft (Google was just about to get started in Kirkland then), or musicians from Puget Sound Symphony (which are by themselves also software people in the day, or UW medical professionals, or music students), or a group of Malaysians that are too small to be representative, and too young to be insightful. In essence, what I experienced was life as a software developer on H-1B visa, which to be honest, looking back and forward, was and is a very enticing life in itself. You’ve heard it before: change the world, line of code at a time, stock options, great work environment.

So although I could jump back into that narrow world (I’m confident to be able to find a way), would I? Might I? And let me ask you, dear friend or stranger, should I? In that circle, a technical career is highly respected, but outside that circle, does anyone know what happened behind the bits of electrons we curated? The mistaken thought that the world revolved around myself and my dreams gave me a potentially false sense security in doing tech, and doing it like it was 2004. At the time of this writing I still haven’t completed my first mobile app and had lagged severely behind the technology curve. Can one still practice his craft after rusting for 8 years?

* * *

May 3 (Friday)

We set off to answer that question early in the morning by meeting Shao Wei for breakfast in Google Kirkland. Naturally, he was everything I was in 2004, perhaps even more, so I was taken aback when he started to question where this kind of life would lead to (code monkey, elusive promotion, yet free food free laundry!) Perhaps it wasn’t surprising, seeing he has already started dating Mavis, and thoughts about next steps might have frequently occurred. But if one takes away the (some say unnecessary) worry about the future, things are kinda in place – job, mobility, weekends, etc.

After we sent Shao Wei back to work, we got out of Kirkland by bus – public transport has one notable change: no more free rides in downtown, an excellent scheme that unfortunately bleeds the city government. That means, once we reach town, we had to spend the rest of the day primarily on foot.

Just like my own first exploration of Seattle in 2002, we started in Pike Place Market, to get hooked with the dizzying array of seafood, produce and art. One can easily spend one morning sniffing at flowers of every colour, try those Oh-My-God sweet fruits and cheer at the fish throwers. The pig statue who collected donations in front of the fish throwers still stood proudly to welcome us.

An excellent banjo strumming singer sat before the so called original Starbucks (1971, making it 42 years old now) welcomed us to the now totally renovated store. Gone were the places to sit down for a cup of coffee (take away only), while shelve spaces for souvenirs flooded every corner behind the counter, to satisfy the never ending beeline of customers yakking various languages and accents to come grab a piece of the American legend that has intruded their world for close to half a century. That included us, as dear bought several mugs as souvenirs for her colleagues too, as we started to “accumulate” our gifts to bring home.

From the market, we went to walk along the coast, past a little Olympic park, visiting several odd shops like the one with a real petrified mummy in the shop, several museum-like arcades that celebrate the history of Seattle being a gateway for the Klondike Gold Rush, and taking pictures with the new giant wheel, a new tourist attraction that was recently enacted. We also saw some union protests, apparently an annual affair now. There was allegedly shops with their windows broken the day before that we couldn’t be bothered to verify as there was little we understood about their issues.

Our long walk eventually brought us to Union Square, King Street Station, and back to one of my ex-office in Union Station 1. We opted for the excessive quantity Thai food in Uwajimaya, where dear schooled me into not getting the bamboo dish ever again (smells like ammonia..), and making it back in time for the Underground Tour, one of my favorite parts of the Seattle downtown experience at 1pm.

48 years since Bill Speidel started this tour, this attraction that was based on ruins and the excellent story-telling, was still pretty much alive. Even on a week day, we saw no less than 50 people in that 1 session alone (tours runs hourly for most of the day), and we had to split in to 2 groups. Our guide was a man probably in his 60s, still full of humor and wit, but lack the amplification while we were on ground level. But once we were underground, the echos and cooperative crowd made up for it, and everyone got to listen to the stories from the Son of the Profits, including some like me who heard it more than once and still found it refreshing. No one can resist a story about flush toilet rocket fountains. No one.

We spent a large part of the afternoon just resting in the Seattle Public Library. I was catching up with some Raspberry Pi book while Dear read about animals, sipping coffee, and resisting the annoyance from a self-talking man 2 seats away. I didn’t realize how used to it I am to odd behaviors until Dear pointed them out to me. Then again, instead of always trying to avoid them, I asserted that they were not dangerous, certainly not those that would assault you in broad daylight in the middle of the library.

As one of the purpose for our visit was to reach PacMed on Beacon Hill, we went back towards Chinatown and then trotted up the hill till we reached Viet Wah, which seemed to have grown (to have multiple branches), and subsequently Malay Satay Hut. I thought it was a brilliant idea to finally revisit the place after a decade to see if it was still the place it once used to be. Although I had faint memories of the owner, the rest of the staff (who all claimed to be from Ipoh…?) wasn’t familiar to me. Still, our server helped keep any feeling of home sickness at bay, as we chatted about her daughter who was in the shop with her. Even though the owner already had a branch in Bellevue, we learned that he was contemplating retiring, either closing it down or selling, as business wasn’t as good as it used to be.

One contribution could have been Amazon.com’s move to South Lake Union, as Pacific Medical Centre (PacMed) reverted into its previous state prior to Jeff Bezo’s conquering. This became apparent as we approached the main gate, the serenity of the same trees that stood before the long term care section of the hospital, the cold A4 notification so simply taped to the glass doors that once rang of conversations about changing the world that said, “clinic –> that way”, and the completely empty car park and streets surrounding the iconic building beckoned. Beacon Hill had went back to being, just, Beacon Hill.

We left glancing at the statue of Jose Rizal in a small park across the street wondering, would this place ever be revived again. It was still a building I could point people to along I-5, watching over Seattle town from the south, perhaps new stories would be carved out if/when new tenants ever move in.

After a long stroll and hike I also managed to walk Dear to where I used to stay – along the hilly slopes of Beacon Hill facing the port of Seattle, where I used to glance at the glorious sunset into the Olympic mountains. The sky would turn all the way from orange to purple, and I remembered the days when I danced to the sunset, almost barbaric and ritualistically, to the freedom that I borrowed before repaying it back to those who gave it to me.

I read many books in this cozy studio apartment, like the Life of Pi and other present movie blockbusters, cooked many dinners, like my favourite Shake-and-Bake chicken, and even written a lot (just scroll back this blog to the year 2004, 2005). It was life with intention – life with a deadline, as I knew the date I need to return from the very day I started work in this city. It was the grabbing of every waking moment to do something that I can relive in my memories and feel liberalized afterwards. It was a “gap” year: a good, ample and peaceful year.

Although I don’t have answers to whether coming back will make sense, I was thoroughly reminded that no matter where I choose to be, I need to live so intentionally, live like I only have a year for each age, as that’s indeed all that we have. The idea slowly rocked into my head as Dear and I, exhausted from all the walking, took a bus back to Greenwood.

* * *

May 4 (Saturday)

Realizing that our intention of “resting” wasn’t materializing, we decided to “laze” at home together with our hosts who could finally enjoy their weekend, but still had to tend to their 2 children’s needs. Dear had long conversations with Sue-Ing and Cho Yeow, while I spend time typing away at the laptop.

As our host went out for a short shopping trip, we also went out to QFC separately for lunch, did some exploration and hid ourselves back in the house (ouch the sun!)

In the evening we manage to get Jeremy and Shirlene to bring us out for dinner. This was also the first time we saw their hyper-active baby Liam. I meant it when I said hyper-active – Liam was kicking and jumping non-stop from the moment we got on the car until dinner and back. It was such a challenge to calm him down!

We explored a new Ramen place Miyabi in Wallingford (hope I got this right) which catching up for all the missed years. Jeremy and Shirlene came to Seattle around the same time I left in Aug 2005, and had been here ever since. Although our paths never crossed since school was over, we could both imagine each other’s life pretty well. Now that it had started to be a routine conversation, we similarly explored life in Google and Microsoft, which end up an enthusiastic Windows Phone feature discussion session. Dear also managed to calm Liam down, a feat in its own right, by showing him nature along the walkways.

To know that Amazon was hiring for their Kindle team from Shirlene was exactly the kind of news I hope I would get a kick to find out more. Alas, I ignored asking as she ignored sending it to me – that would be the fate for every opportunity that come my way.

* * *

May 5 (Sunday)

After a day of rest, we’re back to a full day programme, first by meeting with Yi Wei and wife Jadine (who also had a daughter) at a new branch of Bakery Nouveau up on Capital Hill, together with Shao Wei again, this time with Mavis, to introduce each other and grab some breakfast. I hadn’t heard a Singaporean conversation for a while now since we had been exclusively around Malaysians since meeting Kah Kien in Pittsburgh, and couldn’t help grinning as we attempted to catch up and sought advise.

Our next target was Ballard Farmer’s Market, which although we went together (it was Yi Wei’s regular thing), we didn’t end up meeting at the right time and parted ways thereafter. The market was exciting to see, but once you look at the price tag, it was really worth reconsidering all the direct from farm thing… Not that we are against it, in fact we love the atmosphere with music along the streets (even a Tubist doing his etudes), but it would be a luxury for a middle class family to be buying your food from here weekly.

Armed with some bread, Shao Wei and Mavis drove us to the Hiram Chittenden Locks, which I eagerly wanted to show Dear. At one point in time I was like a full time tourist guide to the locks, as I found the engineering interesting and salmon fish jumping up the locks a natural marvel.

Unfortunately, there was no fish… argh can you imagine my disappointment :/ Apparently you could only catch the salmon season if you come in July/Aug (for various species of salmons) or Mar/Apr (for Steelheads), for different species of fishes from the Pacific Ocean that returns to the fresh water in Lake Washington to breed. I held back my sadness and immersed myself in the double rainbow created by the splashing water jets for dispersing the seagulls eager to catch young salmon swimming out from the lake towards the sea.

It was still a worthwhile stop as we all watched the water level in the locks go up and down for the boats to go in and out of the lake. Limited car park time compelled us to leave the peaceful place and head towards Bellevue to pick up Jun Yang, one of Shao Wei’s friend who’s working in Microsoft Bing, for a sumptuous lunch at Din Tai Fung.

Jun Yang also brought us to Juanita Beach Park to round up the day, as we watched happy families get scorched in the burning afternoon sun while submerging in the icy cold lake. We called it day late afternoon and returned to Greenwood to pack. We were grateful to both Shao Wei and Mavis for making an effort to keep us well travelled despite the lack of any concrete plans and the lack of fortitude on my part. Perhaps it had been too long a long time since we started our journey, which resulted in me simply going with the flow.

* * *

May 6 (Monday)

Going against the flow, Sue-Ing took her morning off just to accompany us for the remaining hours before our mid-day flight. After dropping Zen Zen to pre-school, we took some post card pictures at Kerry Park on Queen Anne, before heading to Top Pot doughnut, the donut chain that Obama allegedly likes. We thanked Sue-Ing all the way to the airport, as she personally sent us off, and even though she kept saying she wanted to host us better, I thought she had done more than enough to provide us company and perspectives that we would otherwise not have.

We bid Seattle good bye with our classic blurness, as Dear and I got lost after lunching (BK!) at the airport and had to run to a different terminal due to a gate change. I ran too fast and got into the inter-terminal train while she had to wait for the next. The smirk from the face of the pilot who stood next to me and told me that we were still in time was unforgettable.

We decided to hold each other’s hand more tightly for the rest of the trip.

April 29 (Monday)

We left Penticton with a heavy heart. Yipeng made lots of waffles for breakfast and we said many goodbyes before we set off to travel west towards Vancouver. 二叔 gave dear a trusty Nokia since her S II was bricked a few days earlier to stay connected. We chose the more indirect path (highway 3) that will bring us through EC Manning Provincial Park (vs heading back to Kelowna for highway 5), after being told that there are gophers at its visitor center.

It turned out to be a slow motion roller coaster 6 hour drive that brought us through such drastic elevation changes that made our previous drives look like neighborhood excursions. We started in spring weather, and quickly ascended to snow capped levels, and then back down tracing the rivers soon after. We saw similar ranches around Keremeos, but it was the regular pine jungle for most of the trip. At one point, we went so high to Princeton, it actually snowed. Roads were covered with snow, even the attendant at Petro Canada where we stopped for gas was surprised by the sudden change in weather. The high elevations after Princeton created a phenomenon where fog rises from the ground, which created an effect that made the entire road look like dry ice, or us driving in the clouds. Along the way, we saw families of dear-like animals but we couldn’t ascertain if they were actually moose or deer or elks, as the males usually shed their horn around this time of the year.

It was somewhere along this road, that I think this trip came to the climatic, most memorable point for me. I know people who would read the beginning of this and probably the end of this multi-post diary, but since you bother to follow through, let me share this cherished moment with you.

As radio is non-existent for most of the trip through the uninhabited wilderness, I tend to burst out singing or humming. Most people, especially my wife, knows this: I do not have a great bank of songs that I know the lyrics to, so many a times, I just hum random lyrics (while my brain habitually does ad hoc harmony exploration). When dear realize that I don’t know most of the words to Country Roads, she started singing the whole song for me.

Almost heaven, West Virginia
Blue Ridge Mountains
Shenandoah River

She probably saw, but I started crying like a baby, quietly. No it wasn’t West Virginia or Blue Ridge Mountain, only better. Her lone sweet voice pierced through the car and rang along the tall mountain cliffs, Shenandoah river was on my face.

Life is old there
Older than the trees
Younger than the mountains
Growin’ like a breeze

Oh I didn’t know why I cried. It rang and rang like the song had been heard in a previous life, like I was there when John Denver sang it in 1971. Every tree that zoomed past me in this bucolic atmosphere seems transformed into a choir in a concert hall of mother nature.

Country Roads, take me home
To the place I belong
West Virginia, mountain momma
Take me home, country roads

I first learned the song as a 9-year old boy scout, probably during some camping trip brought by some affiliated high school senior scouts. We used to change the lyrics of every song so it was West Malaysia, Petaling Jaya, of course, no mountains. I found it strange that I remember no other campfire songs except this from my childhood, perhaps, for this very special day.

All my memories gathered ’round her
Miner’s lady, stranger to blue water
Dark and dusty, painted on the sky
Misty taste of moonshine
Teardrop in my eye

I had so much tears that I had to create a pipeline to let it flow into my shirt without dear noticing. As she sang gently, she was telling me about a place I’ve never seen, but she so convincingly described this dusty environment on a hill that’s no where close to the sea with views of starless moonshine in the sky, that I thought it was my home.

I hear her voice
In the mornin’ hour she calls me
The radio reminds me of my home far away
And drivin’ down the road I get a feelin’
That I should have been home yesterday, yesterday

There and then, I fell in love once again with my wife, winding up and down ranges and ranges of mountains that took me in like its foster child. She was that radio that morning, a radio that was so intoxicating that I found it hard to resist giving her a hug, but couldn’t. I just sat at the wheel pretending to focus on driving, when my soul has already found its way home. And I knew, once again, as long as I’m with her, I’m home.

Unfortunately the visitor centre was close, so no gophers for us. Soon after the road merged back to the grand ole highway 1. Dear finally took the wheel, driving the taller car that she always wanted, and brought us from Hope to Langley’s Tim Hortons, while I took pictures. After one more coffee, I did the last stretch to return the car at Vancouver airport.

For the record, an S.U.V. rental like this (Calgary airport -> Vancouver airport) under a favorable condition (driving a BC car from AB back to BC, avoiding drop fees) for 96 hours can be done under $900 including 1 tank of gas and hundreds of dollars of insurance in, even though every website you check will give you a $1,500 to $2,000 kind of fee (might as well buy a used car…)

三叔母 came and pick us from the airport to her lovely condo in Richmond where we were surprised by her generous gift of renting the guest suite for our 3 day stay. Cindy came home soon after and we were shown around Vancouver and had a great seafood dinner. As we didn’t plan to roam around Vancouver, they did their best to drive past all the iconic stuff, including the steam powered clock and the various Olympic buildings that recently hosted the 2010 Winter Olympic Games.

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April 30 (Tuesday)

On 三叔母’s recommendation, we took a chinatown tour bus (to contrast our experience in Toronto) for our day trip out to Victoria, which Amazon says is the most romantic city in Canada (by commercial measurements). Mainly, I wanted to bring dear to see Butchart Gardens in the spring time (the last I went it was the peak in the fall of 03), especially knowing that they grow lots of tulips, her favorite flower.

The Chinese tour guide this time wasn’t as humorous as the mad Italian we had, as he speaks in stately mandarin after confirming that we can all understand him (well we tried our best… lest he try his broken English). The ferry ride from Tsawwassen ferry terminal to Swartz Bay terminal felt much more commercial than before, but it didn’t bother us as we could still climb out onto the deck to see seagulls flying alongside the iron beast. Being engineers we traded lots of opinion about how the ferry works.

Lunch was first on the agenda, but we gave it a miss, preferring our own home made sandwiches that’s getting very common in our trip. It’s not just saving 2 x $12, it’s choosing to take a break from the pseudo-oriental food and letting the body do less work in learning and digesting unfamiliar food. Unfortunately there wasn’t an easy place to sit down around the Chinese restaurant, so we end up taking a bench outside an old folks home.

We first spent the first part of the day around the historic administrative corner of Victoria, a popular spot for photos and learning about the history of Victoria, how it came into being and how it joined BC, became state capital, and joining the Dominion (i.e. Canada). Much of these was captured in the British Columbia Parliament Building, which we could walk freely. On top of the building was gold covered statue of Captain George Vancouver, which allegedly marked the tallest point of Victoria (they don’t like tall buildings?)

We then proceeded to the highlight of the day: the Butchart Gardens, spending more than 2 full hours taking in the garden’s beauty and examining species that we haven’t seen before. Now that I’m 10 years older than when I last came, I felt that I was able to recognize more flowers, and even the conditions of why the flowers are so well kept.

One issue about coming to the gardens late April: there are no Roses! The entire rose garden has been snipped to make it bloom in time for this year’s summer peak season. Perhaps this was one of the reason the place wasn’t as crowded as I last remembered it. We could really find private corners of the garden to enjoy private moments.

Most importantly, all the tulips were in full bloom – all the way from the entrance into the main Sunken Garden. It’s tulip season in everywhere else too, but the Gardens did an amazing job of mixing colors and landscaping them to give illusions of grandeur, serenity, playfulness, surprises, or occasionally melancholy. Flowers appear and vanish along the trails, lush water fountains and elegant pinwheel turbines captures pops out of no where, while animal shaped bushes in the distant tells the story of the missing participants of this man-cultivated nature masterpiece.

We met a couple who brought along their huge working dog to the Gardens. I can’t remember the name of the breed (think it starts with O) but it was as big if not bigger than me. They were on a a long holiday road trip from Colorado and this was the dog’s well deserved break. Gelato ice cream ended the visit nicely before we hoped on the bus again to make our long way back to the mainland to rest and prepare for another day of adventure.

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May 1 (Wednesday)

One of my favorites about the Pacific Northwest is the Orcas, or killer whale. It’s an animal that captured my imagination of being cunning but social, beautiful but intelligent, domestic but travels the world. Killer whales (who are more like dolphins than whales) are found everywhere on earth, second only to human beings ourselves.

I had a real spinning headache after being in the water for 4 hours in total. And the price tag wasn’t cheap as well (at $120 excluding taxes and tips at time of writing). But if whale watching is your thing, and if you’re ever in Vancouver, I’d recommend Seabreeze Adventures – they are quite professional about the whole experience.

We started our journey south of Richmond at Steveston Village (an old Japanese fishing town). All in all we manage to hunt down 1 humpback whale (which did some 10 tail-slapping), 1 family of Orcas (4 of them, 2 are mothers, 1 juvenile, and 1 really cute baby Orca!), dozens and dozens of Sea Lions (both the noisy Californian type and the local Stallion type), some harbor seals (looking rather delicious to the Orcas), several bald eagles (including 1 nest with a nursing parent on it), hundreds and hundreds of sea gulls, and still many other types of birds that I can’t name. The scenery is set in the middle of the Straits of Georgia closer to Vancouver Island than main land (more specifically around the Galiano, Mayne, Prevost and North Pender Islands), to the back drop of the Olympic National Park mountain range (especially Mount Baker) and the Rockies of course (they are always there!)

What would I give to live a care free life like this! But apart from changing careers to be a naturalist like our tour guide and spot animals every day, I will have to be extremely rich to own a piece of these remote islands, complete with my own pier, boat, and way of maintaining some decent standard of living in the harsh weather away from civilization.

Dear was happy as this was the boat trip that rewarded us with the most animals (vs. dolphin trips from Bali Indonesia and Hualian Taiwan). The place is more alive this season than it was in previous summers I was here: Californian sea lions yet to go home (Californian seas) to breed as they are not done eating the fat salmons of the north, migratory animals (including some whales) en route between Alaska and Hawaii, snacking along the way, and most coastal vegetation in full bloom in the background. The omnipresent sea gulls are never shy of flying with our boat or even playing with the bald eagles, as both look for fishes in shallow waters.

I didn’t mention living as a fisherman because that would mean going further out into treacherous waters. In this sanctuary, fishing is heavily regulated so that’s certainly not a way of life that I might want to choose, well, maybe crabbing on the beach and running a seafood restaurant if it’s economically feasible.

I have a puzzle picture that still sits at home in PJ. It’s well framed (for some reason dad decided it was nice to frame it for me). It glows in the dark. It’s drawn (not a picture) into an oval shape. The contents: a single Orcas breaching out of the water directly towards a full moon. I haven’t seen this improbable sight yet, but I believe, some day, I will be able to see it in real life. I think I’m already at the right place. Next, it’s to find the right time.

I won’t even need a camera then.

Driving along the Trans-Canada Highway, we headed to Banff from Calgary airport on our rented SUV. Despite the rocky terrains that it cut through, Highway 1 was in surprisingly good condition, with grooves properly done, lots of signs, and even migration corridors for wildlife (these periodic “overhead bridge” that spans north-south across the highway to let animals cross the road safely). Every inch of the highway (at least initially) was fenced to prevent road kill. And the best part that I will always remember: no tolls. No. Tolls.

We reached Banff much earlier than we thought, and with the daylight getting longer, we were actually able to sight see if we wanted to, but instead, we stayed in and ate food we had with us. This place we stayed, Alpine B&B, was a house run by a couple Anthony and Anna. Their son Matthew would get super excited whenever they had guest in their basement, and greeted us with so much enthusiasm climbing up and down the stairs, fetching our shoes for us, showed us around our room etc. that Anna had to “rescue” him back upstairs. We admired how they found a way to acquire such a unique yet simple (and monetizable) property in such a lovely town.

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April 26 (Friday)

Banff was _beautiful_. The way it gradually rose away from the prairies, the (relatively) unharmed coniferous forest and winding bow river, and the surrounding snow capped mountains, created a feeling of being tucked into a cozy corner of the Rockies, without the harsh weather of higher elevations, but high enough to be cooling for the summer season, when throngs of visitors come to escape the heat. It was picturesque every direction we looked, so much so that it was hard to accurately capture the moment on camera.

We explored the town area in the morning. Similar to Cameron Highlands, the town served visitors as well as locals living in Banff alike. We were in good company of students visiting for their spring break, playing some treasure hunt game. In the visitor centre, a TV plays specially captured footage by a hidden camera of a cougar tearing up its prey. The cougar was spotted killing a deer fairly close to Banff, and to prevent mishaps the ranger moved its prey further into the mountain and setup the camera to watch it guard and consume its prize.

From the town, we hit the road exploring close by vistas of Banff National Park. We took in probably the best view of the entire trip driving up Mt Norquay Scenic Drive, with Tunnel Mountain, the entire Banff town, some surrounding lakes, the river, the distant clouds/sun/snowcaps. Standing in high winds on an unpaved path full of deer poo, listening to the howling sound of the trees, we felt how the world was made for the two of us, a world of unparalleled serenity, careless possibility, healing wounds, lifting stress, moving yet still, chilling yet warm.

I felt amazingly rich. So rich, with all the wealth of the world. No amount of printed plastic paper was worth this feeling of relieve, no amount of property and stock investment was worth this connection to mother nature. I felt a little sense of injustice, for my prejudice towards North American forest and nature, as our humid rainforest deserve a different kind of hard love. What would I give to be in the arms of the Pacific Northwest for the rest of my life? I also felt dazzlingly richer when I have Dear with me, so that I wasn’t alone basking in the glory of Banff springtime.

Dear spent time playing with snow at the closed ski resort. Being surrounded by its abundance for the first time in her life, she was clearly excited at every opportunity to build snowman, throw snowballs (ouch), and ponder the opportunity to ski. Although I constantly reminded her about evil winter, it didn’t seemed to matter as she stepped into a foot deep of snow with porous sports shoes. Ouch.

Along the way to Lake Minnewanka, we saw a family of 5 mountain goats. Granted most people who stop to take picture gave enough space, these goats were rather ignorant to the presence of homo sapiens, enjoying the sprouting green grass after a long harsh winter. The layer of ice on top of Lake Minnewanka was still in the process of melting. Since the level of water had receded, it gave us a cheeky chance on the shore to crush them with stones, watching clear crystals that was formed in the past 6 months crash like a million glasses breaking. There was a male duck (the green head type) at Two Jake Lake that spent a long time with me at the picnic bench, possibly feeling the need for company as there was no companion in sight.

We only managed to catch a glimpse of 2 deer on our way back. No Elk or Moose that we hoped for. We kinda expected it, seeing that Banff was quite built up even though nature was well preserved. Campgrounds, hotels, roads, and every other amenities in Banff made mention to these animals who were supposed roam the place…

Finally, we ended our day tour by visiting the original primary reason that Banff became a tourist destination for many locals, the highest natural hot springs in Canada: the Banff Upper Hot Springs. Looking no different from a small swimming pool, the water there was a whopping 40 degrees Celsius, definitely not the best temperature for male reproductive organs, but with its natural minerals (Sulfate, Calcium, Bicarbonate, Magnesium, Sodium, etc. etc.) it was allegedly able to help better blood circulation and effect other positive benefits on the body.

Attire (swim suit!) was not at strict as we thought. When we first set foot on the waters, it was boiling! The body took a long time to adjust itself to this high temperature. We kept thinking of ourselves like the monkeys in northern Japan who huddle in hot springs during winter. There was a stark difference of 30 degrees (40 – 10) Celsius when we are in the pool and out of it. A large sign on the wall reminded us to get out of the water every 10 minutes to regulate the body’s expectations, but most people (especially Caucasians) we were with simply stayed in. The same stunning view surrounds the pool makes it easy for us to forget the time we were cooking ourselves. At $7+ per entry, we probably went in and out the pool some 5 times before we reluctantly left for our respective bath and locker rooms.

Cleaned and refreshed, we ended the day with a sumptuous dinner at Melissa’s Mis-Steak (not that appropriate a pun imho). The day was one of the most memorable part of the trip – nature is really the most affordable honeymoon every newly weds deserve.

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April 27 (Saturday)

We bid farewell to our hosts to continue our journey along highway 1. Our first stop was Lake Louise, which we read was even more picturesque than Banff. However, as it was at an even higher elevation than Banff, the place was still snowing and Lake Louise was still frozen solid! But that didn’t stop many tourist (including some we met at the hot springs the day before) from making the steep road in to pay homage to this sliver paradise.

The next few hours of our journey was an epic road trip that winds through the huge peaks, periodically going from summer like valleys between rows of mountains and winterish trough passes between the peaks. It also went back and forth between bright day light to stormy rain, while roads started to thin (from dual carriage to single carriage with occasional 2 lanes on the ascending side of the road) with some of the largest container trucks ploughing the same road.

Seeing Dear was still working hard to spot wild life, I distracted her by asking her to be our cartographer and naming each peak we came across. But as each peak was so huge, it took a long time to circumvent each of them, and that became boring quickly. Along the way, we saw settlements and ranches in the most unlikely of places, their presence as a proof that life was bearable enough for economic activities to happen. With humble names like Field and Golden, one might have written off such as place as an unknown kampung, when it might as well be the perfect spot to build a summer palace for a king.

We continued winding the hills together with the railroad and took a break at Revelstoke for some Tim Hortons and instant noodles. On the road we saw many properly retrofitted cars from the 60s/70s puffing their care free life. Collecting a Foursquare badge here beats holding down 10 mayorships (#firstworldachievements). I admit that I had a dilemma on whether to let Dear drive the rest of the journey, and decided to continue holding the wheel till we reach our destination.

With determination and little stops, we surprised ourselves by reaching the Okanagan region earlier than scheduled, and started making random stops after branching south from Sicamous, wondering how would life be like around these windy lakes. We passed by Vernon, Kelowna and bunch of small towns like Summerland and Peachland to reach 二叔’s place in Penticton in the afternoon, taking 二叔母 by surprise as she expected us only late in the evening.

Oh how could I even start to describe Penticton? A heaven on earth (that was first impression), but even after living there for a few days and looking back in hindsight, it was still an amazing and livable place that remained relatively unknown to the rest of the world, having overshadowed by larger cities like Vancouver and Victoria. Approximately 30,000 lucky people made Penticton home, many don’t even bother to visit Vancouver since the place is self-sufficient.

二叔 and family was exceptionally hospitable to us. It might be partially because they have chosen to stay in a relatively remote place, where people don’t visit that often. As their place faces the park and has a direct view of the Skaha lake, there were a number of small motels just next to it, and many residents who jog along the park all day.

We visited cousin Yipeng’s pharmacy, cousin Yifeng’s place / home office, and then went out for dinner with the whole family (except Yiyang who was in Vancouver). 叔母 and Yipeng also drove us around separately to introduce each street, each building, and gave us an extremely thorough run-down of their lives here. Listening attentively to each decision they made along the way that eventually turned out for the better for the family who was straddling between Singapore and Canada, I got a better appreciation about how life could take many combinations of premeditated and unexpected turns, and how the people around you in your lives could take center stage or regrettably left behind.

* * *

April 28 (Sunday)

Due to our untimely arrival in Penticton, 叔母 and Yifeng had to help their clients complete their tax returns before the end of the month, leaving 二叔 and Yipeng to bring us up to Kelowna to meet 么姑 for lunch. We visited her dorm and had some good ole Chinese Food (everything with broccoli!). When we’re back in Penticton in the evening, 二叔 brought up for a long walk, “stalking” coastal houses with his professional grade binoculars, and continued to be our sounding board about life.

Although we didn’t get to pick fruits in Summerland’s vicinity, getting here is already like picking a bounty of fruits, great in quantities, healthy and perhaps need to check for some rotten ones, but overall a great harvest that will let us chew on for a long time to come. It was barely 1.5 years since we were officially married, and nothing beats meeting relatives on the opposite side of earth. Whether it’s hakka blood or not (wife side family exhibits lots of hakka traits), the propensity to go beyond the comfort zone and find better way of life elsewhere was most inspiring, especially when told by relatives who had walked the path.

I spent a lot of time thereafter thinking about some of my assumptions of life – one of the possibility has always been to again embrace that Pacific Northwest that was once lost, but I was too narrow in that thinking. 二叔 had to go from being an SIA plane engineer to becoming a bookkeeper – can I make that kind of drastic change in my career? Must I go back to Amazon or grab some technology big boy job? Where’s all that sense of wonder and just trying out things that your parents told you not to do? Or things your immediate social circle would deem “a waste of talent” or “too difficult to achieve”?

It was not like there’s one single priority, nor was there a need to hard rank the messy life all of us lead. Many people found reasonable balance between career, family, and spiritual well being, among other things. Neither of the camps were absolute in their promotion of better family life or career prospect or spiritual enlightenment. But one couldn’t wait too long, for time passes us by quickly, while our mental inaction and physical inertia self-reinforces each other.

By this time the Malaysian election campaigning was also in full swing – we started gluing ourselves to social media a bit more than previously in the trip, helping the deafening echo chamber build its momentum. There were also occasions where we had to give holding answers to peer pressure, for such honeymoon to take place at the price of national service.

二叔’s home cooked dinner (chicken thigh and bak kut teh!) broke the messy train of thoughts and we had a comfortable dinner as Yifeng came over to join his brother and parents in lamenting our short stay (2 days too short la, come here again ya, etc.) I crawled back into the make shift sleeping bag blanket feeling the warmth that emanates from a family who has, in essence, figured it out.

It’s now our turn to figure it out.