Tuesday, 24 September 2013

Putrajaya People

Putrajaya is Malaysia's civil servant hub. It likes to be different from any other enclaves in Malaysia, but the precincts there are also plagued by parking woes and messy signage. However, a lot of space is allocated to offices, leaving areas free from traffic on weekends and public holidays, but I hear getting food is rather a nightmare for the civil servants there on weekdays.

I have just a learnt a few more entrances to Putrajaya being familiar only with the entrance near the wetlands before this. When driving, the circular road around the hillock (the biggest roundabout in the world, I've just learnt) housing the Istana Melawati and the Shang is nerve wrecking. The traffic that goes round it is always at madness speed. I once had to make one full turn before I could get on the outer lane!

Recently, I had the chance to be in Putrajaya again and this time spent several hours on that hill. Don't the Putrajaya people have it good?

I entered the maze of pathways from here, and straightaway could smell the lovely sweet smell of... can it be the tembusu?

I saw people going for their walks alone, in pairs and with their family... refreshing.

I could spy on the people across if I had wanted to... booorinng.

There are wakafs for people to rest a bit, do more exercise, have a picnic... do whatever.

Seats are aplenty.

There were many people working there: mostly foreigners, as evident from their conversations.

The plants and flowers were lovely.

Monday, 29 October 2012

Eidul Adha 1433

It's pronounced with the 'h' sound, and not eiduladdaa, as many (western) newsreaders are wont to do. This time hubby and I celebrated it in K.L., as the day fell on Friday, which would mean we would have to make our trip home on Sunday. I always prefer to have a day's rest before going back to the office, so K.L. it was for us. Also, this time I decided to get son-in-law qurban the sheep for me, so I had to stay to witness the event.

All in all, he slaughtered 20 sheep, with the help of many of his Algerian friends, of course. They did it so well and in an organised manner. They held on to the sheep's legs and another one read the basmallah. With just one sweep of the extremely sharp knife (which cost aroud RM 600), the sheep's throat was slit and the blood was hosed away.  

In our Muslim tradition, children should be brought to the event to witness it. There should not be a question of choice, and there is no need for a fuss: just bring the children along and they'll be fine.

In the western eyes, this may seem as a cruel act, the way we slaughter our animals, but, to each his own. I shall not quarrel about it. What I question about are the before: sharpness of knife, treating the animal well; and the afterwards: how the meat is cut and packed and the head, fur and innards are disposed of. This should be done in a hygenic way.

The animal was hung while the inards were taken care of, and hung for awhile more to let the blood drain before the meat is cut, distributed (two thirds) and stored/ for the family (one third).

There were 20 sheep for qurban that day, mainly due to the living arrangements of these Muslims. They live in apartments and there is just no suitable space for this activity on their premises. Our place was available and in the spirit of sacrifice, we open it up to these brothers and sisters.

Allahuakbar wa lillahil hamd.  

Wednesday, 22 August 2012

Eid 1433

Allahuakbar walillahil hamd!

The first day of Eid has always been celebrated at our place. The children and grandchildren came and a few other relatives and friends. However, this time I was blessed with having a friend from primary school dropping by, with her three sons. The boys were so curious.

Asad asked a lot of questions like: Is that a turtle? It's a tortoise, I said. Why a tortoise? Why not a cat or a dog? What does your tortoise eat?

Aiman was equally inquisitive: Aunty, was mummy a disaster in school?

I enjoyed their company.

This time, it was the usual ketupat, rendang and lemang (Pak Ali).

Second day was travelling to Kuantan, Tapioca Hill, to my parents'. My nieces and nephews are bigger and they have been a great help in the kitchen.

Here are pictures of this part of Kuantan from the 19th floor of the Zenith.

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