ATVs in the Jungle

Friend: Here, quick, just get on this one and do the test rounds. 

This is how I found myself climbing onto an ATV for the first time ever, about to start shooting a video. 

: /

Of course, I missed the "how-to" briefing because I was shooting something else.

Which to be fair, hadn't seemed important, as I wasn't planning on getting on the vehicle at any point.

Instructor: *mumble, vague hand gesture*

It was some kind of instruction for turning it on. 

Me: O.o?

Instructor: *louder mumble, repeated vague gesture*

I attempt to copy.

Me: O.O?

And fail horribly.

Instructor: =.= 

He puts my hand in the actual correct place. 

And repeat. 

At least 3 times for all the levers and buttons I was supposed to press.

Finally, the beast was alive. 

I was sent on my way with a wave of the hand - GO! Practice!

As I rounded the first corner and started bouncing rapidly down a hill, I was suddenly gripped by a deep and terrible panic.

I don't know how to stop. 

O.O

Literally.

There are a lot of levers and buttons. 

And I don't know what they're for.

And my speed is increasing. 

And there are a lot of people watching.

OMG WHERE'S THE $@**^£@ BRAKE!?!?!?!

@.@

…this is what the briefing is for…

I praise God for simple reflexes and that a childhood spent on bicycles meant the first thing I grabbed for was, in fact, the brake. 

----------

With the accelerator and the brake under control, it was time to shoot.

My friend put on the helmet cam and handed me the loose camera.

Friend: You need to get to the front so we can shoot them all coming up.

Me: >.O

This is a new face.

It means, brain agrees, and is trying to think about shots…but brain is a little distracted with new skill and trying to avoid death.

Anyway, it's too late - they've started driving.

And the very first part of the course is a ridiculous hill - ridiculous in its incline and the uneven-ness of its surface.

After almost flipping the beastly ATV backwards up the hill, losing a leg and knocking my head on a low-hanging bamboo, I reached the top.

Now his eyes were open.

Friend: Gimme that.

He took the loose camera and thrust the helmet-cam in my direction.

Much better idea.

[scarier than it looks. honestly.]

Reverse Racism

I was watching some Olympics re-runs the other day. 

Swimming. 

They were handing out medals to the ladies relay teams. 

It was something like, the Aussies, the Dutch and the Americans. 

Me: Are they twins?

Two of the girls on the Dutch team. 

They look really similar. 

[the middle ones...quite similar lah...]

Friend: No.

A close up quickly revealed no.

No, they are not twins.

Not at all. 

Me: Oh. No. They do look similar though. From a distance. 

I paused. 

And looked at the other teams.

Me: They all do..?

Slowly I realised what I was saying.

o.0

All the white girls "basically look the same".

I did that racist thing to my own race.

O.O

Do I really see that few white faces that I can no longer differentiate between them..?

Because that is quite hardcore. 

And a bit weird.

Jet Skiiing

The first time I jet ski'd was in Penang.  

I was there with a few friends and we'd spent the day exploring. 

And were now at the beach. 

Playing in the sea (which was a bit gross, actually - you know that squidgy, muddy sand? Yeah.)

Anyway, suddenly;

Friend: Who wants to jet ski?

…

Friend: Come on guys!?

I want! 

But he's a boy.

I wanna jet ski with girl... 

Malu lah :(

But the other faces are lazy and reluctant.

Nobody moves. 

Friend: Really? Fine. I'm going. 

He starts walking down the beach. 

…

Mat Salleh looks frantically : beach - jetski - lazy friends - jetski

...

Me: Wait for meee!!

------------------------------

I run to catch up, but I'm still shy. 

So when we climb on the jet ski, I go for the polite English grip - there's a good hand-width distance between us and I'm just holding onto the life jacket at the arm holes.

If you've ever been on a jet ski, you'll know what's coming. 

Although perhaps with a normal person, I would have been fine. 

My friend accelerated at MAX-SPEED into the open ocean, flying off small waves. 

Friend: Woooooooooooooooooooo!

Me: 0.0 *muffled squeaking*

Still going super-speed, he pulled the tightest corner you've ever seen.

And the world was upside down. 

And there was a very loud scream. 

Which was abruptly cut off as;

BAM!

Everything was water, in all directions.

[if there was a camera, this would be the picture]

When I bobbed up to the surface in my little lifejacket, gasping for breath, I saw a genuinely concerned face, flood with relief. 

Friend: I thought I'd killed you. 

Me: You did!

He dragged me back on the jet ski. 

Friend: You have to hold on this time!!

Me: You have to not throw me off!!

There is no room to be shy on a jet ski. 

Hold. 

On. 

Tight.

Alan

I went to watch my first live Malaysian football match this week - Malaysia vs. Japan. 

Standing outside the stadium with my friend, we'd bought our tickets and were waiting for the rest of the gang to appear.

And then we met Alan. 

Alan was a Chinese boy with bleach-blond, K-pop hair. 

He was wearing tight black jeans, a white Greenday t-shirt and sling bag. 

Go ahead - imagine him in your mind.

Not only was Alan amusingly out of place, he was also more confused than me.

Alan: Hi, er, what's happening here?

Bearing in mind that we were standing in front of Bukit Jalil stadium and we were surrounded - surrounded - by hundreds of people wearing football jerseys and chanting Harimau Malaya songs, and stalls selling aforementioned jerseys, scarves and annoying football horns, that was a ridiculous question. 

[ridiculous, Alan. Ridiculous.]

Me: It's a football match.

Alan: Oh, oh. I don't like football. 

Me: o.0 

Alan: It would be good if, if Greenday was playing.

Me: ...Why are you here?

Alan: I'm going to Ampang, actually, on the LRT, but I saw this and got down to see. 

Really? 

Isn't Ampang, like, the other end of the line? 

He looked a bit Japanese, and if he was, he could've been forgiven for getting a bit lost.

But no, he was from KL. 

A slightly weird conversation ensued until my friend walked off to continue the real-friend search. 

Not good to get lost in a football crowd.

Me: Ok, bye!

Alan: Ah, do you have Facebook or something?

What?? No, you big stranger!!

*Mat Salleh runs away*

Malaysia loses, 4-0. 

Sin Binned

I watched my first complete rugby match yesterday. 

Not a live one.  Just on TV.

I know, that's a bit of shocker given my nationality. But what can I say? 

No defence. 

But after watching for 80 minutes I can confirm that I am a fan. Although I have no idea what the rules are. 

There don't appear to be any. 

It's like wrestling with a ball. 

If you switched on halfway through, you'd be forgiven for thinking you had just tuned in to a period drama - seriously, if anyone's ever casting for a "pub brawl" scene in Medieval times, start scouting on the rugby field!

[...raaaaaa...]

I was particularly proud of this majestic fellow:

[a fantastic head of hair and taking a head-butt to the groin: Welsh]

I was actually watching the All Blacks vs. Argentina. But after that match, they had highlights from the Ireland vs. Wales game. 

The contrast between the two games was night and day. If I thought the first had no rules…I was in for a shocker!

These guys were ALL OVER THE PLACE! 

[even in the back, staggering in for more...]

It was like a constant, rolling mass of gargoyles. With the occasional ball-sighting. 

And to make it even more enjoyable, presiding over these brutes as a referee, they'd sent in the Alan Partridge of the Rugby world:

[note the nervous Englishman in white: "ah, excuse me please, actually, ah, I don't think you're supposed to pull his ah, oh...nevermind..."]

I imagine it was him who came up with all the terminology. 

A few happy examples:

Sin Binned - literally, a player sent to the naughty chair for 10 minutes.

Illegal Wheeling - moving incorrectly during a scrum. So there are rules...?

Handling Error - some idiot dropped the ball.

Then I remembered the time I met a Malaysian rugby player. 

Well, I don't know if it really counts as a "meeting". 

He ignored me as I stood next to my friend, who he was talking to. 

=.=

Anyway, this inspired me to google some Malaysian rugby facts. Here's what I found:

1. There are more than 300 rugby clubs in Malaysia

2. Malaysia have been trying (and failing) to qualify for the Rugby World Cup since 1995 (yes, that's 16 years).

3. The national team's worst defeat was against South Korea in 1996 - 112 to 5. Take a second to look at those numbers. That's incredible. Who knew South Korea even played rugby??  

Sorry. Those really were the most interesting facts.

If it makes you feel better, here's a picture of my team being destroyed by the French. 

[i vill kill you]

Sigh. 

Futbol Malaysia: Uncles and Lasers

It's a slightly bitter entry for Malaysians to read today…because I am writing about football. In particular, the World Cup qualifier that Harimau Malaya lost to Singapore last week. 

But fear not. My interest is not really the game itself…but a few incidental details. Like where on earth does Singapore find its players???

From what I understand, saying that half of their players are foreign is no understatement. It's literally true. But because it's Singapore, not Milan, their selection is…interesting. Take this guy for example:

[i'm talking about the guy in the red. yes.]

Me: "Daddy is...is that you..? Oh wait, no."

Hahaha. My dad doesn't really look like that...but the point is, this guy's an "uncle"! This is a World Cup qualifying match! There's a reason footballers retire young - every time someone went in for a tackle with him it was like; "Ooh, careful, not too rough, ah?

…reeeaaally awkward to watch…

---------------------------------------------------

And then there's the coach:

[is this guy the coach? i didn't bother to check...]

All the players on the team affectionately call him "grandpa". 

Ok that's a lie. But it didn't surprise you, did it? 

---------------------------------------------------

And then there were the lasers:

[go on, watch. it's only 1 minute]

Are you kidding me, lasers?!?!?!? So in the first few seconds of the video you think:  What? Why is this [cute] guy complaining about nothing? Here's a classic example of legendary, small-boy-football-stall-tactics. 

And then they give you the slow-motion replay and: "…is that…wait…a laser? A LASER?!?!" A laser. What madness is this, Malaysia? Really. You are lasering the Singaporean goalie! Incredible. 

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Ok, enough rant from me. I leave you with my favourite picture of the night:

["ooo" - read with Alan Partridge intonations]