(Updated )All White...and shade of red.

UPDATED with Activity pictures.

The first day April 28th dinner was at a restaurent on the cliff over-looking the Meditteranean.

We took over the whole terrace - with a majestic view of the bay.



Morning of second day April 29th: Conferencing for 2 hours.





Afternoon of April 29th : Sight Seeing trip to a destination of own choice - I chose to visit the waterfall.

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"mirror mirror on the wall...who is has more hair of them all?"

This hotel in Antalya where I am staying is unique and worth an entry to share its features.
For the last two days, I have been fascinated with its simplicity, authenticity, and beauty. Everything is in white, with shades of red or red lighting for effect - from its lobby to suites, from their sofas to their staff uniform.
The hotel does not have furniture other than matresses wrapped in white linens everywhere, even in the lobby. There are also ipods with headphone available for people to relax to.

I will be here until Monday - three more days to indulge in Reflecting, Rejoicing and Re-juvenating! Those three Rs is also the theme of the conference which I am runnging here for 200 managers from the company - flown on two charter flights. They will be arriving today.

Another unique feature is how I can view the activities in the lobby area, around the swimming pools and the beach from the telivision, using their cctv. Ladies, this is ever so handy to keep watch on your hubbies.....are they really with their men buddies when they left your hotel rooms?

Some pictures - I hope you can appreciate the unique ambience.

Lobby at 8.30pm. Note the couple in embrace!

Yours truely lazing around at the lobby lounge.

Bedroom of my suite 324.

Sofa in my room. Also note the matress on the balcony outside.....This hotel puts its residence into romantic mood with so many matresses everywhere!

The name of the Hotel is on the signage found in the elevator. Note the SPA. I went for a swedish massage this afternoon - it was bliss!

Tomorrow real work starts. The group will be arriving. Look out to more posting and pictures about the conference.

Sorry son....yet again.

I kissed Luqman's forehead as I left the house this morning. He was still in bed. A pang of guilt again drenched my heart. This month, I have been home for less than a week - and a few of those days I arrived home when he was already in bed.
Last night we went to one of his friends' birthday party. When we stopped at the ToyR-Us to buy gifts for his friend, he too picked up one toy for himself and looked at me for approval.
Lil said "No" instantly. The first parent's responce stays. He knows that. LiL and I do not contradict each other openly in front of our children. He looked down, despondent and dejected. I did not have the heart to see his dissappointed look. LiL did not want to encourage him to be impulsive with buying toys. I was feeling guilty and want to make it up with material things.
As always, I do not undermine LiL's decision in front of my children. I nudged LiL to follow me to the other side of teh shelves and pleaded for her to allow Luqman to buy something. We compromised - he can buy a less costly toy.
He was smiling when LiL told him so and immediately placed the remote control thing back on the shelf and went looking for an alternative toy to buy. Finally he came back with a kind of battery added portable microphone cum loudspeaker. This morning, I saw that microphone thing tightly huddled in his embrace.

While waiting in the lounge I wrote this entry. I found this poem forwarded to me by one of my friends. I think it is relevant. This is not my original poem - but I could not remember the author to give appropriate credit to.

My Hands Were Busy

My hands were busy throughout the day

I didn't have much time to play

The little games you asked me to

I didn't have much time for you.

I'd watch TV, update my blogs,

I'd listen to radio and go for a jog,

But when you'd bring your picture book

And ask me please to share your fun,

I'd say: "A little later, son.

I'd tuck you in all safe at night"

And hear your prayers, turn out the light,

Then tiptoe softly to the door...

I wished I'd stayed a minute more.

For time is short, the years rush past...

A little boy grows up so fast.

No longer is he at your side,

His precious secrets to confide.

The picture books are put away,

There are no longer games to play,

No goodnight kiss, no prayers to hear...

That all belongs to yesteryear.

My hands, once busy, now are still.

The days are long and hard to fill.

I wish I could go back and do

The little things you asked me to.

- credit to the orginal author of this poem.

My life as a teenager....

I met my match! She was game, and willing to try. She captivated my attention and was always ready to answer my questions.
We bantered like two long lost friends reunited - on YM tonight. One topic led to another and finally we agreed to have a blogger's challenge.

She gave me three topics to choose from and I were to do the same. Then we were to choose one of the topics and write an entry within an hour.

Her options for me were :
- Your life as a teen ager.
- My first time....
- My favourite musics as a young man.
All three about a page from my memory lane. Not surprising given that her latest entry was about a trip down her memory lane, days of her childhood when she played the role of remote control for TV channel switching - and she was obviously in that kind of mood.

I chose - My life as a teenager.........

A STAR rugby team - Perak state champion.

Teen ager Idham spent most of his teen age period at a boarding school in Ipoh - popularly known as STAR.
It was also his first time living away from home. The transformation was not easy for a twelve years old whose world has never been outside his little village in Kelantan known simply as Kampung Kemubu. He was never exposed to neon lights, and never had shower under a running tap. His toilet habit was primitive - what was known as the-free-for-all-behind-any-bush one can find. So to have been sent to a boarding school, where his dormitary was brightened by not one but many fluorescent lamps - it was a cultural shock to young Idham. That was when he first saw a brighter world. But he longed for his kerosene oil lamps, the 'pelita'. He told his dormitary mates how he missed his mother who would always accompanied him on the other side of the 'pelita' while he was completing his homework.
During his early days in the hostel, he was obsessed with the running tap water - and spent hours in the shower cubicles. He said that the shower reminded him of rainy days when he used to enjoy going to the padi fields to look at his fishing nets.

His early teen life was a transformation from 'bawah tempurung' to 'a bigger, more modern and city like tempurung'. Still a tempurung - but more of a self imposed tempurung because even with the freedom - he wasn't adventurous enough to go beyond his comfort zones. To his friends who tried to influence him to do some of the naughty things young teenagers did - he simply said, "My mak will not like it if I do that". His mother had a major influence on his early teen age life.
Little wonder he did not know how to swim, neither could he climb trees. It was during the second half of his teen age life - when he felt safer to try and venture - that he really saw a brighter world.
He picked up smoking at sixteen. As if to declare publicly that he has left his 'tempurung' and was ready to conquer the world, he spent one entire semester break when he was sixteen to go on a back-packing adventure around Malaysia. With some clothes packed, he went hitch-hiking from Ipoh to Kuala Lumpur, to Malacca then JB, before making his way up north again towards Kelantan. He came close to a few scarry encounters with drug addicts and tramps during those nights he slept at public parks. In Terengganu, he was taken home by an elderly couple for a good shower and a hearty meal in their lovely home - a good deed he remember fondly to this day. The couple also gave him enough cash to take a bus to home in Kelantan if he so wished. But alas....he was on an adventure and the money was saved to pass on to his mother instead.

Idham's teen age period of adjusting and adventure continued when he won a sholarship to study A Level in Grantham, Linconshire England. He built a penchant for traveling - a lifestyle he carried into his career later in life.
It was as a eighteen year old student that he met his first girlfriend - an English girl by the name of Catherine. He also became rebellious in his dressing - went for the hippies look which was trendy at the time. He even wore ear-rings. His hair was long and unkept - fashionable he said.
His relationship with Catherine was awkward. Not a surprise really since he never had a serious relationship with a girl before. Afterall, he has spent his early teens in an all-boys boarding school. It was Catherine who taught him how to lip-kissing. It was also Catherine who taught him the meaning of jelousy and heartbreak. It was a relationship destined to be experimental and failed - for after a few clumsy and awkward 'first time' experiences - Catherine decided she was tired of playing a 'teacher' role - teaching a naive young boy with every trick and skill in a boy-girl relationship. Catherine moved on. Idham spent the rest of his teen age life concentrating on his studies - at the same time mending a broken heart. His entry to adulthood was marked with a chance meeting with his first true love - also his unwilling girlfriend, the one who he nurtured into a relationship which ended in marriage.

The Grantham train station.

That was a brief recollection of idham's life as a teen ager.

Time to check with my new found blog friend , Jacquis Curve, who tonight through the YM chat agreed to do a blog challenge with me.

"J.T. , where are you..............? Are you done yet with yours?"

An evening in Cairo

K from Casablanca, S from Dubai, N from Cairo and urs truely at the Khan El-Khalili.

I am here in Cairo for a business meeting. This is a city which runs deep in cultural and historical heritage. The people are generally very friendly, extremely polite and warm. This is also a city of great disparity between the "have lots" and the 'have nots'. Luxury cars are few on the road, and when you do see one, it almost certainly belongs to one of the elite few have lots. The have nots walk the street of cairo in the millions. The Have Lots continue to accumulate plenty more and the pitiful have nots continue to pass their poverty to their future generations.

This is a city which thrives on tourism as a main source of income. Be warned, behind the friendly smile and apparent politeness lurk a kind of entrepreunerial determination and wicked salesmanship which can persuade you to part with your hard earned cash.

My flights and hotel expenses are paid by the company - A priviledge I enjoy.
My experience of Cairo is, however, my own - an opportunity I maximize.
So on the one evening I have here, I went to Khan El-Khalili Bazaar and looked for the famous and popular Naguib Mahfouz's cafe for dinner. The food never dissapoint, and the ambience unique and memorable. Traditional musics, shisha and hush sounds of people in conversation can lull you into the heartland of old Egypt. Afterall, Naguib Mahfouz was a novel Laurette winner.

The business meeting I was chairing accomplished its objectives. The visit was brief, and stay was pleasant. An evening in Cairo is always memorable.

I have to stop from typing this entry as the driver has arrived. A new driver, one who looks more experienced. He is here on time to pick me up for the airport. That is a super improvement from two days ago - and with the hospitality I have received since, the delays and confusion at the airport on arrival seems so misplaced and best forgotten except for the lessons from the Arab with a beard.

added on from home after arrival, with a mug of hot chocolate:

(I dedicate this poem to my dearest wife LiL who waited by the door to welcome me home )
I sat watching the stars above
and listening to the dins of traffic below
it is so easy to think of love
watching reflections of neon glows

Cleopatra was as alone as this
When she prayed for Egypt’s ultimate bliss
The pulse of life which travels miles
Come wash their pain, oh River Nile

I dont have Cleopatra's magic
neither do I wish to be as tragic
but for love and affection I desired the same
before the sinners of Cairo got burnt in flames

I'd rather think of loving thoughts
of honeymooners by the Nile they walk
with future's hopes, they giggles and smile
'Keep their happiness afloat, oh River Nile'

Then I looked to the stars and think of you
just as the Nile's tide, when you’re pouring lean
How I want more, darker shades of blue
and when you’re not with me at any scene
I miss you dearly the whole night through.

Come join me tonight on my balcony
together let us create a future to be
let us plunge into the streaming flow
spread our wings to where the night breeze blows.

River Nile, Your mystic keeps me dreaming
Your wonder fills my longing
Your affection keeps me floating
Your endless whispering keeps me flying
without you knowing,
you're the wind beneath my wings.
Like a desert fertilized by the Nile
Love overflows - in the silent darkness I sat and smile.
.........forever, side by side we will walk the miles!

*balcony of sheraton on the nile. night of april twentytwo, twothousand seven.
with you in my mind - wishing you were with me - stone cold balcony could be heaven*

Waiting.....for a lesson.

View from the balcony of my room at the Sheraton on the Nile in Cairo.

Flight SV303 to Cairo was delayed by 2 hours at departure. The passengers were loaded half an hour later than scheduled. But, soon after I was seated, the engine was turned off. The humidity and heat in the cabin soon worked on my system and I nodded off - with a book in my hand of course.

Then, I was awoken up by a gentle tap on my shoulder, "Please put your seat upright sir". I thought we have landed. Afterall, I already entertained two full dreams.

But alas, the plane was about to ram-up for the take off.

A bearded Saudi gentleman seated next to me looked with a smile, mumbled something in Arabic while showing me his watch. He was telling me the flight was delayed - and by two valuable hours. He was reading his small Quran. He glanced at the book I was reading. "Where from?" He asked.

"Malaysia" I said proudly.

I did not think about the consequence of the delay much, afterall I was travelling for a meeting which were to start only the next morning. But I was wrong.....

Upon arrival, I made a quick exit and was amongst the first to arrive at the immigration counter. The Boeing 747 was fully loaded with Umrah pilgrimages, I wanted to beat the queue.

I walked out, looking for the familiar sign-board of a pick up driver arranged by my associate in Cairo. I walked up and down the arrival terminal. There was none.

At the same time, sensing that I was someone in distress, a few taxi drivers approached and later got quite aggressive in hassling me to take their taxis. I have seen and been in Cairo Taxis before, and was determined not to risk my safety again. It is quite normal to see taxis without safety belts, drivers on mobile phones and tyres wobbling.

I decided to call my associate.

"Aha Arif, the driver is supposed to be there"

"He is not here, but my flight was delayed by two hours. Maybe he has gone".
"Let me checked. Dont go anywhere. I will call him then I will call you back"
"OK. I am already outside after the immigration"
"OK".

I waited for five minutes before she called back. In the mean time, I have to wave off more than ten hagglers - all offering limousine to the hotel. All limousine I was quite sure are the same black and white taxis.

"Arif, he has gone for his dinner. But now he is on the way to the airport. Please wait there, he will be there in ten minutes".
"ok. I am in front of the duty free. I am on the chair reading a book, and wearing a striped shirt. If you can tell him to look for me".

I continued with my book, partly to keep myself busy so that I didn't have to deal with the taxi hagglers.
Time passed ever so slowly when you were waiting for someone. I looked at my watch, I have been waiting for twenty minutes, and it felt like an hour. I surveyed the crowd for any decent looking man with my name on a signboard - none.
I decided to call my associate again.

"Hai, this is me agaian. The driver is not here yet. Do you think I should take a taxi?"
"No, please wait there. He must be there. Can you walk past the immigration and wait outside".
**Ermmm, but I already told her i was already outside sitting in front of the duty free and reading a book.**
"I am already outside, in front of the duty free and reading a book. I am wearing a striped shirt" I repeated.

"OK"
"How long will he take to be here?, maybe I should take a taxi"
"No, taxi no good. Please wait. He is already at the airport parking his car"
"OK...I will stand up so that he can see me".
"Dont go anywhere".

And I stood up, holding on to my trolley bag. And I scanned the faces of people. And I saw pretty young Egyptians, overweight old Egyptians, Good looking young Egyptians, and unkept old Egyptians. I saw very rich faces and I saw very poor faces. I saw many hagglers spying me and shifting on their feet trying to make eye contact. I saw people hugging and kissing, they were relatives who came to welcome and greet their elders back from Umrah.

But, I did not see my man, who was supposed to come looking for me with my name on a sign-board.

After a good an hour of waiting, and my watch after adjusting for local time was already showing 9pm, I was still waiting. My mind was debating whether to be angry, or to remain calm. I decided to remain calm and composed. Afterall, the flight was delayed and the poor guy could have been waiting in the airport for the plane which never arrived.

"Hai, Arif is he there?"
"No, not here. Are you sure I should not take a taxi"
"He already parked his car, he is looking for you now. Could you walk out of the arrival hall, and go to somewhere less people"
**Ermmm, I already told her twice that I was already outside and was already at a place less crowded**
"I am infront the duty free shop, now standing but holding a book and wearing a striped shirt" I repeated. Maintaining my calmness, even with a smile on my face. But it was a struggle to remain calm....I had to consciously remind myself to be so. The darker side of me wanted to scream profanities. I didn't......

Waiting and miscommunicating can be so frustrating. However, I have experienced enough to know that anger or other negative feeling do not improve the situation - only had negative effect on one's own health.

I was supposed to arrive at 5.30pm. I was supposed to have dinner with my other colleagues in the hotel at 8pm. But there I was past 9pm still waiting for my driver to pick me up.
I sent an sms to my associate.
"Could you please sms me his mobile number so that I could call him directly"
One minute later, I received a reply.
I called the number.
It was ringing, but not picked up.
I called again and again. The same - ringing away.

At 9.45pm, close to two hours of waiting outside, just as I was dialling my associate's number then I saw this man with my name.
I raised my hand to attract his attention.
He came and tried to explain frantically in Arabic. I did not understand a word, but I understood he was saying it was not his fault. Which was true - in most cases - the worst of irritation was not due to anyone's fault. It was how our mind intrepret things which created the tension and stress. And waiting, in most circumstances, is a favourite spot for the devils to play trick on your mind.

I was walking to board the shuttle bus which was to take us to the car park, when I heard a familiar voice and a tap on my shoulder.
The bearded Arabic guy, all smiling and pointing to his watch said, "My driver was late".
He was smiling when he said that. He told me he was looking for me before he went praying. He also read his Quran while waiting.

I smiled back.
A lesson has been learnt for myself.

**I have to try to remain calm - the Arab with a beard was calm without even thinking otherwise. I spent time waiting anxiously and had to read to occupy my time - he spent time with God and read the Quran. I though I was good in managing to control my temper and remaining calm - he was much better!**.