Opera, a word that makes you want to sing in the shower, or stuff earplugs in while someone else does. You either love it or hate it.
I grew up with my mother’s love for Puccini and Bizet, and my grandmother’s penchant for all things civilised. Needless to say their love for opera didn’t rub off on me, I was a Sex Pistols fan. I’m sure my mother and her mother both wanted to trade me in for a better model at that time.
Things changed when I visited China for the first time in 2004. Chinese Opera was a music world unknown to me so I spontaneously booked a night at a famous teahouse in the Sichuan province’s capital, Chengdu. My ambling journey into Chinese Opera began.
I’ve made a promise to myself to see at least one performance when I return to China, either at a hotel where the professionals perform to packed houses of tourists (Li Yuan Theatre in Qianmen Hotel), or teahouses (Shu Feng Ya Yun Teahouse).
Whether it’s the artists, their costumes or songs and acrobats, something captivates me. Like a kid watching animation for the first time.
by Cate
Unlike European Opera, the stage is sparse — focusing on the performers.
by Cate
Like most classic forms of art, opera’s popularity has slumped. I guess it’s not cool enough these days. But who cares about being cool, I enjoy the performance even if I have absolutely no idea what they’re singing about.
Sichuan Opera is a little different in style — more acrobatic and faster. Both operas have wonderful costuming, make-up and masks taking you back into a time of Emperors, concubines and arranged marriages.
by Cate
If you have never heard this type of opera before, I’ve included a small clip to start you off. Just make sure to adjust your volume down, till you’re comfortable with the pitch.)
White Snake(Bai She Zhuan): A popular fairy tale, White Snake–fairy Bai Suzhen–who has practised Buddhism for thousands of years and can metamorphose into a beautiful woman, wants to taste the love of a human being. She falls in love with Xu Xian at the Broken Bridge on West Lake and wants to marry him. Fa Hai, a monk at Gold Mountain Temple, prevents the fairy snake from marrying him by using his magic power to subdue her and put her under the Lei Feng Pagoda.
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Caffeinated Traveller
Six thirty in the morning is an odd time to set off for a trip to a coffee plantation, unless breakfast is involved. I found myself, along with several others, in a van speeding out of San Jose city towards the hills en route to Finca La Doka, a large coffee farm — 34,000 acres of caffeinated beans to be exact.
The road wound its way up to the entrance gate past rows upon rows of trees, small cottages and school children heading towards school. I wasn’t the only unfortunate one up at that time. Thank goodness I’d moved past schooling days.
Finca La Doka comes under the Rainforest Alliance umbrella, producing quality speciality coffee and I’m sure — low grade crumbs for the mass market. Sitting in the doorway to the factory lie relics of yesteryear, conversation pieces and an introduction to the area’s history. These colourful old wooden carts were once used to haul the beans to the buyers or markets decades back.
by Cate
Probably drawn by water buffalo, brahmin cows, or even a modern-day horse. These carts are works of art.
Update 19 November: These carts were originally pulled by oxes and are widley known as they ox carts of Sarchi, a small town close to the coffee plantations. For more information click here: Ox Carts of Sarchi
The factory tour is short and dull, if you have seen coffee roasting elsewhere, but it was early in the morning, the roosters hadn’t finished crowing, the sun was still toying with the idea of rising, and the aroma of coffee was beginning to take its toll on me.
by Cate
It was refreshingly cool after the humidity of Panama and lowland Costa Rica. During the high season hundreds of tourists swarm to these coffee farms and their restaurants either on package tours or independently. Luckily I went in the low season with no-one around, and a coffee urn all to myself.
by Cate
Sadly, it was time to leave and say goodbye to those bundles of caffeine joy. As I turned around in the van for one last look, I wondered if I will make it back this way again sometime.
by Cate
Finca La Doka is one of several estates that offers tours, food, coffee and cupping sessions. Costs vary on the type of trip booked. If you can, go in the low season, it makes the experience that much enjoyable.
It’s been a very spiritual journey for me this year — caffeine wise. I’ve traipsed around tea plantations in Malaysia, watched tea ceremonies in China, roasted my own bag of coffee beans, and viewed coffee trees from the saddle of a fair mare. Without realising it, I’ve developed a deeper appreciation for coffee and tea, and for those who work in these areas. I have finally woken up and smelt the coffee.
Caffeinated Traveller
So Lonely Planet says along with other places like El Salvador and New Zealand, Malaysia is one of the places to be seen, if you want to be seen, by fellow Lonely Planetites.
And if you don’t care? At least take a look at the capital city Kuala Lumpur starting with those famous twin towers — Petronas Towers.
by Cate
It’s a city of festivals both cultural and sport. Best time to go?? I went during the Hindu and Chinese festivals in February. It was busy busy busy but a lot of fun.
by Cate
Shopping comes in exclusive air-conditioned plazas and bustling street markets.
by Cate
The city is easy to get around on foot, by train or monorail. But if you want to get frustrated, take a taxi.
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Caffeinated Traveller
didn’t begin with the gleam of golden arches, nor the jovial smile of a Kentuckian Colonel dressed in white. It began at an earlier age – four – with a yellow bird, a crazed cross-eyed monster and a green frog named Kermit; and a friendly song that chased the clouds away. I think you all know what I’m talking about.
Yesterday Sesame Street turned fourty. Who would have thought that a kids programme could do so much besides educating small minds on the basics. It taught me a lot about culture long before I knew what that word meant.
From inside my living room, playing on a fuzzy black and white TV (yep I’m that old), I learnt that my world was different to others. That milk came in different containers to the glass pint bottles I used and that eggs were packed in cardboard cartons – ours came fresh in paper bags. Through the sexy voice of the Count, I learnt to mimic accents and familiarise my ear to various falls and rises in pitch. Did he teach me to count? Of course, I love to count.
Most importantly, Sesame Street unconsciously taught me about multiculturalism and tolerance. It has to be one of the few TV programmes without borders.
Perhaps one of the G8 leaders should bring Sesame Street to the UN next time they meet.
Caffeinated Traveller
