By Ramzy Baroud
THE rain lashed out earlier today, as it often does. The high tide and the downpour brought the river to life.
I stood on a balcony facing Gadong and watched with amusement the speeding boats, hauling passengers from nearby areas to Bandar Seri Begawan. A boat would emerge from a hidden turn in the river, at a phenomenal speed, and, as quickly disappear behind a concrete bridge, causing an impressive chasm in the water, which would also soon vanish.
But that was hours ago. Since then, the water has significantly receded, as it often does.
Still, one would never guess that only hours ago there was a foreboding waterway overflowing with life, with rare and sometimes obnoxious birds that have perhaps flown here from the nearby rainforest, with people conducting business, with passengers holding ever so tightly to the rusty handles of speeding boats. It's all quiet now. The now tiny river has retreated for a well deserved rest.
Nonetheless, I decided to venture out. Bandar, like the rest of Brunei is inviting. Not even humidity or the painful blister on the back of my right foot (thanks to my new, cheap pair of shoes) were enough to hamper my mission. And on a mission I was.
I had learned, from a trusted source that somewhere in the Gadong Centre point, by The Mall, there was a quality coffee shop. Coming from Seattle, I seek good coffeehouses wherever I go. My favourites so far are a little cafe {aac} in Rome positioned on a high incline facing the Colosseum, and another, a precious cafe,{aac} owned by a Southern African family of Malay descent, in Cape Town.
As I began hobbling across a confusing road, seeking The Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf, already exhausted, I found myself face to face with Gadong, Although its earlier grandeur had greatly diminished, its serenity was still overpowering. Perhaps it was the darkness that overshadowed the riverside, or, maybe it was the implausible contrast between the total silence on one side, and the emergent nightlife abuzz on the other.
Hundreds of people were still breaking their fast in numerous restaurants scattered everywhere. Some braved humidity, eating in groups, large and small on plastic chairs outside. Others were visible from inside the air-conditioned buildings, walking about, dining, pricing and buying. Questioning the wisdom of walking such a distance for a cup of coffee, I was desperate to join them in the cool breeze. And I did.
Malls have never been my favourite spot. It's a construct of reality. Even mall goers tend to, intentionally or not, fall victim to that pseudo reality: the teenagers texting friends, who are perhaps texting back from the other side of the mall, flashy ads of happy people with really white teeth, Dior jackets, and Gucci glasses. But then, this is Brunei, a country with a unique culture that would redefine the universally defined mall culture. There were hundreds of them, mostly Muslims, women and girls with beautifully woven, modest and colourful Baju Kurong dresses; dads and moms, and little girls with matching outfits; boys with Songkok and Baju Cara Melayu uniforms, trotting behind their parents in utter delight. Ramadhan must be a special time here, and inside a mall or by a river, Brunei is a self-respecting society that still clings to its tradition that of the centrality of faith and family.
Still, however, the blinding white teeth of the many models pinned up throughout the building, reminding me of a particularly yellow tooth of mine, was enough to send me back outdoors. More, I was yet to locate my coffee shop, and frankly began questioning whether such a place even existed. But it does, and it was precisely located in the very place that my trusty source advised. Humidity does strange things to people.
The coffee was good, but the overall experience was rather disappointing. A conglomerate of young friends decided to have coffee as well, crowding the coffee shop in too unbearable a way. They were armed with cameras and numerous phones, sending me packing after only a few sips. But honestly, even without their presence, I would have left anyway. An HBO movie, starring Ben Stiller, torn between an annoying girlfriend, and a supposedly less annoying one, convinced me that watching the river from my balcony is much more entertaining. Luckily, I am already developing a taste of Brunei's traditional Teh Tarik, and I hope to soon be able to add a local café in Bandar to the list of my most favourite coffee shops of all times.
And once more, my path and that of the river converge. Gadong was still sleeping. I hurried by as if my speed was to reduce the level of humidity, but yet again, had to pause. A man was sitting on a concrete step by the river, and was facing the darkness. Behind him, the commotion continued: the lights, the nightlife and the happy models with their intimidating white teeth.
Yet, for some reason, he chose to face the river, turning his back to everything else. As I looked closer, I saw a child sleeping in his arms. He sat ever so still contorting his body so as to provide the most comfortable position for his daughter.
The little girl with the olive-coloured skin seemed exhausted. "Maybe they had finished a hearty Ramadhan meal together, before she, like the river, opted for slumber," I thought. The man paid no heed to me, and, eventually, I resumed my journey back where it started.
Tomorrow, the humidity will surely succumb to another downpour, the river will awaken and the little girl would return to action.
Ramadhan in this town is too special to spend it sleeping, even if by such a lazy river.
(Ramzy Baroud is an author and a journalist. His forthcoming book: My Father Was a Freedom Fighter: Gaza's Untold Story (Pluto Press, London) will be released January, 2010.
The Brunei Times
Source: http://www.bt.com.bn
THE rain lashed out earlier today, as it often does. The high tide and the downpour brought the river to life.
I stood on a balcony facing Gadong and watched with amusement the speeding boats, hauling passengers from nearby areas to Bandar Seri Begawan. A boat would emerge from a hidden turn in the river, at a phenomenal speed, and, as quickly disappear behind a concrete bridge, causing an impressive chasm in the water, which would also soon vanish.
But that was hours ago. Since then, the water has significantly receded, as it often does.
Still, one would never guess that only hours ago there was a foreboding waterway overflowing with life, with rare and sometimes obnoxious birds that have perhaps flown here from the nearby rainforest, with people conducting business, with passengers holding ever so tightly to the rusty handles of speeding boats. It's all quiet now. The now tiny river has retreated for a well deserved rest.
Nonetheless, I decided to venture out. Bandar, like the rest of Brunei is inviting. Not even humidity or the painful blister on the back of my right foot (thanks to my new, cheap pair of shoes) were enough to hamper my mission. And on a mission I was.
I had learned, from a trusted source that somewhere in the Gadong Centre point, by The Mall, there was a quality coffee shop. Coming from Seattle, I seek good coffeehouses wherever I go. My favourites so far are a little cafe {aac} in Rome positioned on a high incline facing the Colosseum, and another, a precious cafe,{aac} owned by a Southern African family of Malay descent, in Cape Town.
As I began hobbling across a confusing road, seeking The Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf, already exhausted, I found myself face to face with Gadong, Although its earlier grandeur had greatly diminished, its serenity was still overpowering. Perhaps it was the darkness that overshadowed the riverside, or, maybe it was the implausible contrast between the total silence on one side, and the emergent nightlife abuzz on the other.
Hundreds of people were still breaking their fast in numerous restaurants scattered everywhere. Some braved humidity, eating in groups, large and small on plastic chairs outside. Others were visible from inside the air-conditioned buildings, walking about, dining, pricing and buying. Questioning the wisdom of walking such a distance for a cup of coffee, I was desperate to join them in the cool breeze. And I did.
Malls have never been my favourite spot. It's a construct of reality. Even mall goers tend to, intentionally or not, fall victim to that pseudo reality: the teenagers texting friends, who are perhaps texting back from the other side of the mall, flashy ads of happy people with really white teeth, Dior jackets, and Gucci glasses. But then, this is Brunei, a country with a unique culture that would redefine the universally defined mall culture. There were hundreds of them, mostly Muslims, women and girls with beautifully woven, modest and colourful Baju Kurong dresses; dads and moms, and little girls with matching outfits; boys with Songkok and Baju Cara Melayu uniforms, trotting behind their parents in utter delight. Ramadhan must be a special time here, and inside a mall or by a river, Brunei is a self-respecting society that still clings to its tradition that of the centrality of faith and family.
Still, however, the blinding white teeth of the many models pinned up throughout the building, reminding me of a particularly yellow tooth of mine, was enough to send me back outdoors. More, I was yet to locate my coffee shop, and frankly began questioning whether such a place even existed. But it does, and it was precisely located in the very place that my trusty source advised. Humidity does strange things to people.
The coffee was good, but the overall experience was rather disappointing. A conglomerate of young friends decided to have coffee as well, crowding the coffee shop in too unbearable a way. They were armed with cameras and numerous phones, sending me packing after only a few sips. But honestly, even without their presence, I would have left anyway. An HBO movie, starring Ben Stiller, torn between an annoying girlfriend, and a supposedly less annoying one, convinced me that watching the river from my balcony is much more entertaining. Luckily, I am already developing a taste of Brunei's traditional Teh Tarik, and I hope to soon be able to add a local café in Bandar to the list of my most favourite coffee shops of all times.
And once more, my path and that of the river converge. Gadong was still sleeping. I hurried by as if my speed was to reduce the level of humidity, but yet again, had to pause. A man was sitting on a concrete step by the river, and was facing the darkness. Behind him, the commotion continued: the lights, the nightlife and the happy models with their intimidating white teeth.
Yet, for some reason, he chose to face the river, turning his back to everything else. As I looked closer, I saw a child sleeping in his arms. He sat ever so still contorting his body so as to provide the most comfortable position for his daughter.
The little girl with the olive-coloured skin seemed exhausted. "Maybe they had finished a hearty Ramadhan meal together, before she, like the river, opted for slumber," I thought. The man paid no heed to me, and, eventually, I resumed my journey back where it started.
Tomorrow, the humidity will surely succumb to another downpour, the river will awaken and the little girl would return to action.
Ramadhan in this town is too special to spend it sleeping, even if by such a lazy river.
(Ramzy Baroud is an author and a journalist. His forthcoming book: My Father Was a Freedom Fighter: Gaza's Untold Story (Pluto Press, London) will be released January, 2010.
The Brunei Times
Source: http://www.bt.com.bn
