Can't Contain My Emotion- What the heck!

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More over...Curse the damn bloody April Fool!!!!!

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Sigiriya, Sri Lanka

Sigiriya, Rock, stupendous 5th-century rock fortress citadel of a fugitive king,a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Climb the rock stairway to see the many marvels of Sigiriya -a gallery of beautiful frescoes, the glossy Mirror Wall, the majestic Lion's Stairway and remains of the royal palace

Early on Saturday morning I were picked up by Nishanta and driven in cool comfort to Sigiriya. It is claimed here that it is the 8th Wonder of the World, and although there is dispute over whether it is a Fort/Palace complex (local) or an Ancient Temple complex (Archaeological and literary evidence) the fact remains it is astonishing (as sadly were the entrance fees, 50 rupees local, 3000 rupees tourist). My not entirely fake ire and thunderous face combined with complaints of having no money left keep the notorious would be guides and helpers at bay. I were unable to pay 3000rupees which I find this too expensive but I managed to arrange a cheaper guide of 1000rupees to sneak through the gates.:P

Behind me, These frescos are 1500 years old rock paintings, the world famous maidens of Sigiriya painted in a row of caves.

Sigiriya was built in the 1st and 2nd century BC on and around a huge steep sided rock the plug of a long extinct and now worn away volcano. Around the base formal gardens were laid out including water gardens with hydro-gravitational water fountains which still work when water levels are high enough (they weren’t), a boulder garden and terraced gardens. There are the remains of little shrines and an audience hall on the way to the main rock, and once you start climbing some astonishing wall paintings, variously considered to be representations of Goddesses or concubines, these over 100m up a sheer drop, with spectacular views accessed now by iron walkways which leave me wondering how they were originally painted.

Continuing along the walkway brings you too the penultimate plateau. Here there is a gateway flanked by giant lions paws, all that remains of the huge lion which apparently guarded the entrance and explains the name which means Lion Rock. Hawkers and monkeys alike pester people who wait here, trying in different ways to exploit either by selling or stealing food. The smarter hawkers sell ice creams and water, some astonishingly try and sell wooden carvings and rocks to people climbing. This final climb starts up stairs but soon changes to a rusty and precarious looking series of iron steps which feel thankfully solid. The climb is hot and windy and at times we feel our climbing harnesses would be a good idea. Everywhere signs warn about hornets. Some very large hives are visible and I have read about attacks. OMG!

My Mama is with the Lord! RIP mama dearest

I thank God for the many blessing bestowed
Upon me all through the years and the good times I shared
And one of the greatest blessings of all
Is He gave me you Mama and the warmth of your smile

You brought joy to my hearts when at times I were blue
When I needed a friend Mama I all turned to you
You'd make all my worries melt quickly away
Your warmth and compassion would brighten my days

And I realize that even though I am sad
God's given me reasons as well to be glad
So don't worry bout me Mama, I'll all be O.K.
And I know that I'll all be together someday

I wish you will always be here
But I know that is impossible
When we part it won’t be the last time we meet
We will be joined again somewhere better in Heaven

For my loving mama, Lilly Young
who has always been there

I love you so much , Mama!!!!!:(


copyright Nov 2009@ eddieplaner

My Terminal Illness Mum (now under palliative care)

many years ago began our love

still having the love i have to give

i always pray for God to save

the wonderful mother i only have

the mother who lost her years of youth

the mother who fed me for my growth

the mother who knows me the best

the mother who held my on her chest

whenever she needs me i can help

wherever she wants me i will go

whenever, wherever, whatever, forever

a son will do anything a mother

You will always be my “mommy” and I your “baby boy”

Copyright@ Eddy Planer

Woman Strength

It takes a stronger man
To value a woman’s strength
To encourage her strength
Not to be threatened by it
But see it as a sign of his own strength
In a world where some men need weak women to feel strong
Where some men get validation from physical dominance
Where dependent, submissive and needy women are celebrated
A Media that commercialised self-disrespecting and confused girls
Yes, I stand my ground!
It takes a stronger man to love a strong woman
Not to be wavered by societies misrepresentation of masculinity
Not to conform to the patterns of this world
To understand and recognise that in a woman’s strength lies hidden vulnerability

To know that it takes a strong woman to show vulnerability

Copyright April 2009 - Eddy Planer

Hope is a nice word,
people use it a lot.
Hope has a deep meaning which should not be forgot.
Hope to some means, life or death.
Hope to others, is to win a bet.
To all those people,
that do not need Hope.
I hope this sinks in,
my message about Hope.

Amazing Egypt !

So few years ago, I finally got around to seeing the amazing Great Pyramids and Sphynx, after 2 weeks in Egypt. , I mean i've seen these things on TV but being here was just unreal, and we were almost humbled by The Pyramids-their over whelming size and age. Hand made... just crazy To get to Giza, I grabbed a taxi and sat for an hour or so in bumper to bumper traffic. "No A/C," the driver explained, "but OK, I roll window down, fresh air come in." Fresh air indeed, the exhaust fumes were wonderful. As I approached the pyramids through Giza (which is a rather modern, Westernized neighborhood), I spotted the Pyramid of Khufu first, rising majestically above the Kentucky Fried Chicken franchise attached to the Giza Mall. And let me tell you, the urban sprawl has really pushed its limits here.
The pyramids are situated on the Giza Plateau, around which shops and high-rise apartments have invaded like an urban fungus. Once I finally got through security and entered the complex, I got my first good unimpeded look at the pyramids. I'm sure you've heard that pictures do not do the Giza Pyramids justice. Well, they don't. But I took plenty of pictures anyway. It was actually quite a pleasant visit; the temperature dipped down to a high of about 43 deg C today (heat index 49), which is rather balmy to say the least for late summer in the Sahara. Plus there was really no one there, so the normally-ubiquitous beggars and vendors and all-purpose hasslers had retreated a bit.
I walked around the complex a bit and watched people climb up the pyramids past the well-armed yet indifferent security guards and the signs that said 'NO CLIMBING' in at least six languages. However, the problem with the photos I took was that it's hard enough to get a frame of reference when you're seeing these massive edifices with your own eyes, let alone when you're looking at a two-dimensional photo. Nonetheless, the pictures taken from the base of the pyramids show a slightly better angle. I thought the Sphinx was cooler simply for aesthetic reasons. Even though the pyramids at Giza are astonishing to see and the only remaining ancient wonder of the world, they're essentially piles of rocks. From an engineering and logistical standpoint, the pyramids are far more incredible. But something about the Sphinx was more intriguing, more pleasing to the eyes. Especially the view of the front of the Sphinx with the pyramids in the background indeed awesome! I got a taxi back to Zamalek from a very nice man named Ali who keeps a book that he asks his passengers to sign. He had signatures from tourists from America, all over Europe, Korea, China, Japan, Australia, and one from Iceland. He gave me a pretty sharp-looking business card and said I could hire him privately any day I wanted to drive a little farther down to Memphis and Saqqara. Up at the crack of dawn today at 3.00 am for the drive down to Abu Simbel in the little bus that could. I had another armed escort however this time there were heaps of buses heading out. I started in the middle of the convey but were soon passed by almost everyone. Another breakfast box broke the drive and we arrived at the new resting place of Ramses II and his favorite wife Nefertari. The guide here was good but after while I were longing to have Adel back. The temple structure of Ramses II was absolutely incredible and it was hard to believe that it had been moved as it looked as if it had been resting there for centuries. It is hard to get an appreciation for the size of the statues both the four colossi that guard the entrance and the 8 “smaller” ones inside until you are standing underneath them. The colours and scenes inside the temple are quite remarkable.It is hard to imagine the impact that temples like this would have had on the general populace when they were constructed. Now it is easy to see how these monuments that can still awe me in their weathered state who today are surrounded by modern marvels and access to information must have convinced ancient Egyptians that their kings were indeed gods. The smaller of the two temples that Ramses II dedicated to his favorite wife show not only how much he loved her but also how much he loved himself as there are more statues and hieroglyphs of him than her. After walking around the two temples for a couple of hours I made it to the visitor center where you can read about the huge task of relocating the temple from its original position whilst battling the rising waters of lake Nasser. On the bus ride back to Aswan I saw a massive mirage where it looked like the whole dessert had turned into a lake with the mountains being small islands. We had just time to have a quick shower and then it was off for my felucca trip down the Nile. I had forgotten how nice it is to be on the water in a traditional felluca sailing boat. We sailed for about 2 hours before pulling up to the bank so that I could have a swim. I were a bit skeptical but captain of traditional felluca sailing boat assured that the Nile was flowing too fast where I had stopped for there to be any problems swimming so in I jumped. Hehehe!
After my swim we sailed down river a bit more until I got to my mooring place for the night. After the gang plank was rolled out and my toilet rocks were pointed out I headed into an Nubian village to the Chief's house for dinner. I had a lovely dinner on the roof of the Chief's house whilst I were entertained by his youngest son and other members of the family
Huraghada on the Red Sea was my next stop, nice to be finally near water of some type. Although the 'Friendship Village' Hotel is something I would prefer to forget, it's good to remember 'you get what you pay for' and I had paid for! All in all, Egypt comes recommended. Do this once in your lifetime. And I believe this country has to be done through any local good friends.Expect everything to be totally different to how it is at home, standards/ service/ food/ religion/ climate. Another one of my top 5 favorite things I have experienced in Egypt.

Dubai, the City of Gold

Aaah, Dubai, the unfinished city. Flying into Dubai showed a myriad of oil pipelines criss-crossing the sand and sea, and hidden away in the hazy mist was the city - concealed as it was all you could see of it was the tops of the many sky scrapers and an abundance of cranes, busy building even more sky scrapers. Stepping off the plane was a little like stepping into a sauna - I had expected it to be a dry heat out here, but it's in fact very humid (the average humidity in September is 85%, according to one website); so humid, in fact, that my sunglasses actually steamed up when I put them on (not terribly useful)!
When I first landed in Dubai, from cold Iraq - on my way to Kuwait - I arrived around 10:30 at night. I figured, since it was late at night it would be cool outside. I had always understood that the desert regions are very very hot during the day time and rather cool at night. So, when the plane landed I threw on my leather jacket and got ready to deplane. Then the door opened on the jet. Geesh. It was in the low 30s and sweat starting forming almost instantly. That jacket was quickly packed away and never saw the light of day in Kuwait or Dubai...I doubt it will see any action in India either. Actually I find that Kuwait was hot. Dubai felt hotter...thanks to the humidity. I'm not sure why there isn't the same humidity in Kuwait since they are both located on the Arabian Gulf. I probably should have paid more attention in science classes. For whatever reason, Kuwait has a very dry heat and Dubai is a very humid heat. In the middle of the day it was almost unbearable to be outside...thankfully people in the air conditioning business seem to be having record sales in the UAE. Go Big or Go Home seems to be a motto taken to heart in Dubai. The number of large-scale projects going on is mind-boggling. Projects under construction or recently completed include Burj Dubai, which will be - by far - the worlds tallest structure, four man-made islands that are all visible from space, including one that is shaped like the world, the only 7-star hotel on the planet (which I did NOT stay in), as well as a ski hill (in a Mall of the Emirates) and many other projects all happening, it seems, at the same time. A sign I passed seemed to sum up Dubai for me - "Now Open, the worlds largest ACE hardware store!"
The next morning I braved the public transport system and caught a bus to the centre of town called Deira. It is in Deira where the Gold and Spice Souks are found. I wandered through the Gold Souk, ducking into shops when I got too hot, I trying jewelry on as an excuse to stay there and cool down. Inside the proprietors give you cold drinks which is a great way to keep hydrated for free! Outside I were hassled a fair bit by guys trying to sell copy watches. This bought memories of Asia flooding back. After I had seen enough bling to sink a ship we continued on to the Spice Souk. It was here, I realised that most of the city shuts down for a few hours after lunch when the temperature is at its hottest. There were people lying around, seeking shade and having a snooze before they had to start work again at 4.30PM.
In Dubai it seems that every other road is under construction or being expanded and the public bus system is horrid. A large metro is currently under construction as, it seems, is the entire city. I took a public bus once but the system is not reliable (over an hour late, very slow - and packed) but found that taxis are, thankfully, very affordable and are the only reliable spread out.
Due to the rapid development and 'modernization' of the city, there are only a few historic structures left in Dubai. All these historic buildings are used for tourist reasons which is likely the only reason they are still standing. Dubai Museum is located in the old Al-Fahidi Fort and is thought to be the oldest structure in the Emirate, being built around 1800 to defend the town of Dubai. Dubai Museum had some great displays on the history of the region and life as it existed for people who lived in the area in times past. Heritage village was mostly closed when I visited but it looked like it was just a bunch of shops set up for tourists in a historic-looking building. I don't think I missed too much there.
Despite a big push towards all things modern...one of the best experiences in Dubai cost virtually nothing and is very traditional. The Abras (or water taxis) go across Dubai Creek for only 1 dirham, or about $0.33. They only go when they are filled with people and cross the creek in five to ten minutes, depending on the route. They where a great, cheap, fast way to cross and see the creek area...with traffic congestion a similar trip by car can take over an hour in rush hour. I'm not sure what will happen to the Abras when the new metro system opens up in a couple years though.

My memory of the garden beauties

There was a time in my life when beauty meant something special to me. I guess that would have been when I was about fourteen years old.

I would get up every morning at the school hostel, make my bed just like the little soldier that I had become and then I would get into one of the two straight lines and march to breakfast with the other twenty or thirty boys who also lived in my dormitory.

After breakfast one Saturday morning I returned to the dormitory and saw the house supervisor chasing the beautiful monarch butterflies who lived by the hundreds in the azalea bushes strewn around the school hostel.

I carefully watched as he caught these beautiful creatures, one after the other, and then took them from the net and then stuck straight pins through their head and wings, pinning them onto a heavy cardboard sheet.
How cruel it was to kill something of such beauty. I had walked many times out into the bushes, all by myself, just so the butterflies could land on my head, face and hands so I could look at them up close.

When the telephone rang the house supervisor laid the large cardboard paper down on the back cement step and went inside to answer the phone. I walked up to the cardboard and looked at the one butterfly who he had just pinned to the large paper. It was still moving about so I reached down and touched it on the wing causing one of the pins to fall out. It started flying around and around trying to get away but it was still pinned by the one wing with the other straight pin. Finally it's wing broke off and the butterfly fell to the ground and just quivered.

I picked up the torn wing and the butterfly and I spat on it's wing and tried to get it to stick back on so it could fly away and be free before the house supervisor came back. But it would not stay on him.

The next thing I knew the house supervisor came walking back out of the back door by the garbage room and started yelling at me. I told him that I did not do anything but he did not believe me. He picked up the cardboard paper and started hitting me on the top of the head. There were all kinds of butterfly pieces going everywhere. He threw the cardboard down on the ground and told me to pick it up and put it in the garbage can inside the back room of the dormitory and then he left.

I sat there in the dirt, by that big old tree, for the longest time trying to fit all the butterfly pieces back together so I could bury them whole, but it was too hard to do. So I prayed for them and then I put them in an old torn up shoe box and I buried them in the bottom of the fort that I had built in the ground, out by the large bamboos, near the roses bushes.

Every year when the butterflies would return to the school hostel and try to land on me I would try and shoo them away because they did not know that the school hostel was a bad place to live and a very bad place to die.

Halo Halo! Phillipines Ice Kachang!

Mabuhay! greetings from Cebu, Phillipines!
Halo-halo (from Tagalog halo, “mix”) is a popular Filipino dessert that is a mixture of shaved ice, milk, and sugar, to which is added various sweet beans and fruits, and generally served cold in a tall glass.

One of the best brain freezing halo-halo I’ve ever eaten is the one by Chowking, Philippines. First of all, halo-halo is one of the most popular Filipino refreshments and Chowking is one of the most popular food chains in the country. Among the main ingredients of the halo-halo are crushed ice, milk sugar and the ice cream on top of the halo-halo. With Chowking, I’m not really sure what the rest of the ingredients are since I haven’t really examined it piece by piece but a rough description of it would be a mixture of different kind of beans, sugar palm fruits, jackfruit, tapioca, nata de coco, ube, corn and leche flan. The company of course doesn’t reveal the exact recipe of their halo-halo to the public. You just have to guess the proportion if you want to copy their halo-halo. It would seem easy but Chowking Halo-halo is just different. It’s really delicious and I know a lot of people who love it as much as I do. I really can’t explain it. You can get the all the ingredients but it’s just not the same. It does not just cool you down during a hot day but it also makes you enjoy a nice delicious refreshment

Sinfully Crispy Pata

I discovered the best boneless crispy pata in Cebu Island, THAT make me forget my name for a while.. This is a whole pork leg that is boiled until tender and then, deep fried to perfection. Yum! I couldn’t help myself but to salivate while imagining what it feels like to masticate crispy pata once again! A friend of mine once said that the best way to eat this is wait before every one else gets their own share and after them, you get the whole bone and munch it with bare hands. That’s if, there would still be left for you! Ha ha!

What is my destiny?
What is your destiny?
Can it be changed at all?
Or is it another hallucination
A figment of our imagination,
of what life should hold in stock for us
If destiny would walk our paths
I would say to destiny
Why have you come all this way,
just to lead us astray?

Copyright 2007 – eddie planer

Let me for a moment

Take a break from this world

I need time to cherish

To remember the times I had

On those dunes when walking

Across the desert-sea exploring

I can almost sense the feeling

When first my feet sank in…

The warm sand pouring

When held in my hands

The fresh breeze gliding

Through my face

Whispering my ears

My eyes started glittering

My dream was blooming

..and then I fell in love

With Arabia and its people

Its wonderful exploration

Its magical sensation

Its remarkable admiration

Let me for a moment.

Copyright ©2007 eddie planer

Road less travel in Erbil, Iraq

I went to northern Iraq, Erbil to help out setting up IVF centre in one of the newly built hospital. I was specifically brought along to do lecture and advice on the layout , setting up, non-consumables, equipments,anesthesia IV, medias and so on for the Iraqis embryologists,clinicians and gynecologists and possibly to see some patients. If I had only been able to accomplish these two things during my 18 days in the country, I would have been happy, but it ended up being much, much more. The following is a report on some of the highlights of the trip and an attempt to get out on “paper” what I learned.

Preceding the Turkish Invasion?

There had been some serious escalation to the conflict between Turkey and the PKK on the Iraqi border in the weeks leading up to my trip. The PKK is a Kurdish group known as Partiya Karkerên Kurdistan or Kurdistan Workers Party hiding out in the mountain caves of Iraq along the border and occasionally attacking Turkish military sites. The PKK wants to establish a greater Kurdish state, which would include a significant chunk of what is now Turkey, so obviously the Turks aren’t too keen on the idea. There is lots of information to be had on the conflicts, so I won’t go. I wanted to get out of the car and take a good picture of this watchtower along the Tigris, but apparently the driver thought that was an awful idea.into it, but suffice it to say that the two groups have been fighting on and off for the last 30 years, and during that time, Turkey has done 24 military operations into Iraq in an unsuccessful attempt to snuff them out. The PKK ambushed Turkish troops in late October, killing 12 and taking eight hostage, which caused Turkey to assemble an extra 100,000 troops on the border. So with Turkey threatening invasion, six other Americans and I came rolling through eastern Turkey. Honestly, I’m not sure why the group leader decided we should go through Turkey instead of flying directly into Iraq, but I was all for it, since it added to the adventure (and was a lot cheaper). For a hundred miles or so, our taxi drove us east along the Syrian border, with watch towers and barbed wired suggesting we shouldn’t take bathroom breaks in the bushes on that side of the road. We reached the Iraqi border without incident and started the process of explaining what the heck we were doing there trying to cross the border. The process only took about two hours, probably because we had the secretary general of the Department forgot to put in the part about it being a vacation paradise.of Health (DOH) on the other side of the border vouching for us. At one point, an Iraqi intelligence officer was trying to poke holes in our story until our group leader’s cell phone rang, and it was the secretary general himself. At that point, our story sounded pretty solid. So there we were in the vacation paradise known as the Republic of Iraq. Also of interest throughout the trip was how differently Kurds were reacting to the Turkish threat. It was split exactly along gender lines. The women told me that they were all concerned, and that they were all stocking up on provisions and praying that it wouldn’t really happen. All the men that I talked to about it said they were completely unafraid, because the Turks knew better than to risk coming up against the Peshmerga (the 400,000-strong Kurdish military). Obviously, there was a bit of posturing going on mountain .

This is the city of Duhok in the province of Duhok from a nearby mountain top.Checkpoint Fashion Shoot Obviously checkpoints are common all over Iraq, but with the driver assigned to us by the Department of Health, we didn’t usually have any problems. One of the craziest things that I experienced during my time in Iraq, though, happened at one of these checkpoints in the middle of nowhere up on a mountain between Duhok and Mosul. Our van pulled to a stop, and after the PDK soldiers looked in, they asked us all to get out. I was not real keen on this, considering there was absolutely no one within shouting distance, and they probably could have done absolutely anything they wanted to us without anyone finding out about it. Rather than look through all of our stuff, though, they got out their camera phones and asked if we could take some pictures together. I was seriously confused. The soldiers went from high-intensity, Kalashnikov-toting hard-asses to fun-loving photographers in about five seconds. They wanted to take pictures with us holding their weapons, then with us in their jail, and I simply couldn’t get over the fact that this was really happening. Am I really in Iraq taking pictures with an Iraqi militia? Total craziness.

Kurdistan: The Other Iraq

The tourism ministry in the semi-autonomous Kurdish region of Iraq is trying really hard to distance itself from the part of Iraq that is currently engaged in an awfully-bloody conflict. Their slogan really is “The Other Iraq.” Check out their website if you don’t believe me: http://www.theotheriraq.com/. And while I don’t really think anyone is going to buy into it, things really are very different here. Some of their public services are much better than what we get in the Singapore. Granted, they make so much money from oil that the citizens don’t even have to pay any taxes, but some of this stuff is still amazing. We visited the men’s smoker corner.

“I am PKK”

One of the things I was trying to get a feel for was what mainstream Iraqi Kurds thought about the PKK, hiding out in the mountains and using violence against Turkey in an attempt to achieve independence. One of the Kurds that we met was very clear that it was important for all people in the Kurdish government to keep their distance from the PKK at the moment. They needed to take a hard stand in order to stay in favor with the EU, the US, etc., who have dubbed the PKK a terrorist organization. “We have to pretend we don’t like them, and we have to pretend that we don’t know where they are,” I was told. A government official, who will remain unnamed, asked us what we imagined a PKK soldier to look like. Someone in our group said he thought the PKK was made up mostly of average Kurds, who believed very strongly that they deserved a larger autonomous region. Apparently pleased with (or directly supports) the PKK. These guys are the local heroes and apparently adorn the walls of about every government office in Kurdistan.our answer, he later whispered directly to us instead of through a translator: “I am PKK.” So, while my discussions can’t be taken as a scientific survey, I think it’s safe to say that there is at least a significant percent of the Kurdish population that identifies with (or directly supports) the PKK. There may very well be more to come as I continue to process this and find out what all I'm allowed to talk about from the trip. So, stay tuned ...

Security Situation

Guns don't mean safety If guns translated into safety, Iraq would be the safest country of all time. Everybody's got a Kalashnikov, including the Iraqis guy who insists he's a pacifist and can join our peace team. That's right, he says this with a straight face with an AK-47 strapped over his shoulder. There are gunmen outside the shopping centers, outside every embassy, at every roundabout downtown, in every bank. The newest plan from the US military is to issue M-16s to the Iraq troops that they're training instead of AKs, so that they can actually track how many end up being used by the "bad guys." This is pretty smart, actually, because M16s use the 5.56 mm NATO rounds instead of the 7.62 mm rounds that go in the AK. Now the will have to insert the word of choice here: insurgents/Taliban/Al Qaeda/freedom fighters steal and stockpile two different kinds of cartridges. The point of this paragraph is just to say that if you go to Iraq, you'll be getting used to everyone having automatic weapons.