Life is living me !

"

Namaste TJW!

Kites darting and fleeting, jousting restless in the sunset skies above the dome and spire rooftops of an ancient Mughal kingdom, this is the beauty that steals my time in Lucknow. "


On Jarard's motorbike, we speed underneath ancient goldfish inscripted gates. This is the old Lucknow, with its breathtaking architecture. I had no idea. By feeling, I suspect we are moving into a more different area of lucknow. There are many completely covered women. Longer lingering stares from the pedestrians. Currently I have been anticipatign whiplash with my hands near Jarard's waist. I start to feel self-conscious about touch. And look around for appropriate ways to hold and seat myself. I have difficulty finding examples of woman travelling with a man on motorbike. I adjust my hand to brace his back upon abrupt stops.

We speed down lanes nearly missing a Muslim Shiite woman buying milk, her eyes peering from curtain of black that conceals her body.


Above another Muslim woman shakes out sheets of fabric that rolls down the side of building, laundry out to dry. I gasp when my eyes extend beyond her, there are so many patangs in the skies. I call Jarard's attn to it, "Look!" "I know he says. And thought the better of it, we are moving so fast through narrow alley. Having trusted my day's program to Jarard, I do not question where we are going, just hoping that is closer to scene of these patang. Blur of Hindi, directions feedback, on off motorbike, doors open close, backagain, uturns,... we are on the rooftop of Jarard's uncle. He shows me his pigeons, a hobby. The men chat. I am happy to watch the dance of the patang. Silohuettes of kiteflyers from distant rooftops, their heads bent to the sky. The sun is setting. Jarard calls out my name. Behind me, his "uncle" son has taken my jerky and set a purple patang up. "They are flying it for you!." Jarard tells me. I am all smiles watching patang lift higher and higher joining the pagentry above. The son hands me the line, and I let the line run between my fingers and thumb as I was shown earlier. It's not long, before the line goes slack between my forefingers. It plummets and catches between two powerline. I am concern, (Louie the Lightning Bug, "No playing kites around powerlines" jingle through my head). They tell me not to worry, the lines here are not naked.

The son, with expert maneuver, skillfully sets the dangling kite in flight, and flicks it from beneath and out from between the lines several hundred meters away. Amazing!

"Kite"

New Zealand Maori manu taratahi

Malaysia Melayu: Kelantan state wau Johor state (& Indonesia) layang layang

Thailand wau

India Hindi patang

Vietnam Vietnamese dieu

Can you guess the country or language for the following?

tako

drachen

feng zheng

yeon

papalote

cometas

leija

kajto

drake

Answers:
tako Japanese
feng zheng Mandarin
yeon Korean
papalote Spanish (Mexican)
cometas Spanish
leija French
kajto Esperanto
drake Swedish


Know any others? Add a comment.

I did not realize that when I worked with Ohia, metrosiderous polymorpha that summer in Hawaii it would become a lifelong friend. The genus greets me in the most surprising places. When I arrived in Wellington, yet again in a new place, wandering on its foreign shore, there blossuming happily in the sun was a familiar face.

And then when I pilgrimage to see a Rata tree in the Te Ure Were country, to it turns out the towering ancient epiphyte was another relative of Ohia.

Most recently, I returned from scoping out the kite scene at Pantai Cinta Berahi ("Beach of Passionate Love") in Kelantan. Too risque for present governance, it's been changed to Pantai Cahaya Bulan ("Moonrise Beach"), however locals still refer to it by its former name or simply PCB. My friend chucked my Aussie canvas sunhat on a random bush to rinse off from his swim. When I went to collect the hat, I was delighted to recognize the unmistakable flowers of the Metrosiderous.

There is an immeasurable joy in recognizing trees and plants on my journey: donkey face anthuriums, mullen in its non invasive enviro, etc. These plants are anchors of familiarity in an otherwise foreign place and in a sense have become my international family. Despite the usefulness of scientific name, I find using the local name more rewarding. Sometimes the local name is more telling of the plants relationship to the people of the present day or past, and in this way feels more informative and meaningful. Othertimes, they are just playfully descriptive, and using that name feels more personal.

All this to wonder for me anyhow, whether I return to focus on plants after kites?

I can only speculate.

I long to know plants, their names, uses, and stories from the perspective of the indigenous.

I was surprise and honor to be invited to celebrate HariRaya with my rideshare friend and her family.

I was a bit nervouswith my limited Bahasa Melayu and concern about being invasive on aday usually spent in company of close people. Everyone was nice,shovelling manis (sweets) and local delicacies my way, "you must trythis." There were an abundance of food. My favorites included nasibiryani , with huge chucks of sauteed pineapples and curry, nasikerabu (blue rice cooked in coconut and served with ikan "fish" andcoconut stuffed local jalapeno looking pepper), dakup (desert ricewrapped in banana leaf), and ketumpat.As we made the round to each house, you were expected to sample morefood from a layout of a dishes and a dozen varieties of cookies. Onmore than one occassion throughout the indulgent day I felt my stomachwould burst.

I got back at the inn at midnight and then ushered to indoor futsalwith some new friends until the early hours in the morning. Thehighlight of the night was watching an underestimated little chubby kid kicks big boys butts: three winning goals.

Market Bazaar

Reverse Trend

While the design of the initially complex pattern Indian patang becomes increasingly simplified, the design of the wau takes on a different direction.

The traditional wau initially consisted of a few basic colors and has evolved to a multi-tissue colored tapestry of meticulously papercutted creeper motifs intricately embroidered in silver or gold. I suspect part of the reason is due to the increasing reverence of the wau for its esthetic value. Adhering to introduced motifs (i.e. wau merak from Johor Bahru can only have one of two motifs, the betel nut or pepper leaf creeper) is a requisite in design competitions, where the most intricately designed waus are brandished. Fortunately, function is not forgotten, and design competions also include the criteria of flight along with beauty.

Wau Puyuh

Wau Bulan

Kampung Kichang. Kelantan.

23 Oct 2006

Bas 10 took me to Kampung Kichang, renown for its traditional kitemakers. I arrive at the kitemaker centre to find out from' Ra' her kitemaster father has passed away a year ago. Another male (either uncle or brother) also knows how to make kites but he is not keen to continue the tradition.

I told her I would have liked to have met him and ask if she had any of his kites on display. There were none, all had been sold. The ones in the shop were predominately the manufactured non-flying souvenir types.

I returned back to the road to be punctually passed up by the bus-the driver waving off my signal comically . Not a good stopping area? Rather than waiting for another bus at the next stop, I continue to jalan jalan whereupon I stumble upon a crowd of people. Three men shuffled flaming coconut husks from one clay pot to another. They were making akok (coconut egg treat) the traditional way, using husks to heat and I was lucky as this was the last day they were doing it.

A local couple making off with purchase pause to ask me about my origins. As coincidence would have it, he was wearing a Pasir Gudang international kite festival shirt. KB was as far away from PG within penn Malaysia without crossing borders. I enthusiastically told him I just came from there , drop the names of mutual friends, and ask if he was a kitemaker. "No, a seasoned flyer. But you are in luck, the best kitemaker lives right by here." In fact, after he left, the akok makers said the footpath behind the kiosk leads to his kampung "village." Seeing my eagerness, they teased I would be kidnapped if I headed that way and better stay put and extended some akok for me to sample.

I kindly decline because I was fasting like mostly everyone else for Ramadan but still much to their surprise. I got in queue to buy some famous akok for my hosts in KB meanwhile doing my best to field questions about how much Malay I know, my interest in kites, reasons for "puasa"fasting, and my experience of it. The akok crowd who greeted my initial curiosity amusingly and warily sent me off with a friendly farewell of smiles and waves. I made a mental note to arrange a proper visit with kitemaker post-hari raya and backtracked to catch my bas.

Wau Merak. The Finished Product.

Pasir Gudang, Johor Bahru. Oct 06.

rattan kepala, funny kind of signature for wau merak
Johor Bahru, Malaysia