mostly earnest

Year: 2022

  • One For One

    Over a month since I left Malaysia to live in Ireland and still no luck on the housing front.

    Since the time we arrived, we’ve had a grand total of zero viewings. It’s shocking how quickly houses get snatched up as soon as it’s up for let. Nothing ever stays for more than a week on the market.

    Dublin was a lost cause from the get go. For the same price of a room, we could live in a 3 bedroom 2 bathroom semi-detached house anywhere else in Ireland. The drawback of that is a lack of public transport. If you’re lucky, there’s a petrol station that doubles as a diner, post office, and a mini mart within walking distance. If not, you’re left with buses that come by once every two hours to take you to the next town.

    We’re lucky to have friends, who left just a couple of years before and were willing to house us until we found our own.

    They sheltered us, gave us rooms to work in, drawers to fill but most crucially a proof of address. We couldn’t have sort most of our administrative tasks if it weren’t for their generosity.

    //

    In theory, it should be a straight-forward process for me to remain in Ireland with all my papers in order. But KL has conditioned me to never trust the system and to always anticipate fuckery when dealing with pencil-pushers and box-tickers.

    I walked into the Garda station with a thick file of documents ready for any requests they might throw at me. But before the interview even began, Michael, the police officer greeted me with a cheery “Welcome to Ireland!” and I suddenly realised that Malaysia is not normal.

    He gave me 3 years (the maximum for an Irish Residence Permit) and after two weeks I received the physical ID in the mail.

    But even with open arms, Ireland isn’t perfect. The crumbling state of their healthcare system post-Brexit and Covid-19 has made it difficult for me to access the medication I was used to getting back home.

    It is unthinkable, not to mention grossly negligent, that in a first world country, I would be rejected for life-saving meds just because I wasn’t diagnosed here.

    Even with all the documents and papers from back home proving that my medication was necessary, there are long approval times and waiting lists. Many hoops to jump through before I would be considered a spot in their system.

    Fortunately many people came through in my time of crisis and with the help of an auntie who didn’t mind bending the rules a little, we got a hold of some medication to last me a while.

    //

    Some days it feels as if I’ve traded in one trauma for another. The rising living, housing, and energy costs coupled with the inaccessible healthcare makes me wonder if there is no place for me in this world that I can breathe easy.

    Maybe the world is your oyster but life is a compartment plate and you have to choose which freedoms to take and which to sacrifice.

  • Sand Dunes & Sea

    I didn’t get in the water.

  • livestock.ie

    Cows are magnificent creatures but the amount of excrement they produce is astonishing.

  • Ramelton

    Worth considering just for the Blue Goat alone.

  • Derry – Belfast

    If you’re going to take the train from Derry to Belfast, be sure to sit on the left side.

  • Leaving MY

    The question I get asked a lot lately is how do I feel about leaving Malaysia. The problem with the question is that it assumes I have an equal choice in the matter.

    In the day to day, the reasons for leaving are not obvious. We are a dual-income household living in a bougie part of town, we can afford food deliveries, buy nice things and go on holidays. We have good jobs and derive great fulfilment from the work we do. We have a tight group of friends — people we really enjoy spending time with — and also a strong sense of community. We are considered by all accounts, quite comfortable.

    Yet what people don’t see is the heightened anxiety of continuously living in a country that is run by a fascist, bigoted, police-state government. The fear that I am only one police roadblock away from harassment. The fear that the medical privilege I depend on to survive would suddenly be clamped down. The fear that at any moment we could be separated because her freedom of movement is tied to her employment. The fear that we will be denied ‘next of kin’ privileges because our union is unrecognised. The fear that any liberties we might enjoy now is short-lived and highly dependant on who is in power.

    If there is any chance for us to live a more dignified life not dictated by the whims and fancies of people in uniform, should we not take it? If it means I get to live my truth and have the state recognise my existence and our love, shouldn’t we go? Can I really say I don’t want to leave if my survival, our happiness, and our lives depended on it?

    The truth is I want to leave but I wish I didn’t have to.

  • Entrepreneurship

    In the span of 6 years in barbering, I’ve ended two business partnerships.

    Not from failing or falling out but for reasons outside of my control.

    My first setup, The Burrow, was a tiny space I rented from a lifestyle-cafe that wanted a barbershop to be part of their brand.

    Everything was already straighten out – the fixtures, the chairs, the decor – all I had to do was show up. Plug and play.

    I was impressed by the quality of the interior even though I myself wouldn’t have gone with a classic design. It felt like an imitation of decade old barbershops that continue to exist bringing nothing fresh to the scene.

    The design they’ve chosen resembled a posh British barbershop with wooden fittings, honeycomb floor tiles, shiny leather chairs, and a sink in front of the mirror for the ease of hair washing.

    Despite my misgivings about the design, it was a good deal.

    Managing a new shop on my own in a completely new postcode was not without its challenges especially after moving out of a township I was based in for a year prior.

    New clients were hard to come by because nobody knew that there we were on the first floor of the building we were in let alone a barbershop inside the cafe.

    Eventually with the help of social media, a timeout article, and good ol reliable word of mouth, the business took off.

    Unfortunately for the cafe, there wasn’t enough foot traffic to trickle to them. Most of my clientele were regulars and the way I operated my business was to serve one client at a time.

    After a while, the cafe business was struggling to cover their losses and eventually decided to call it quits.

    I had no choice but to also leave as it was impossible to take over such a huge space alone while paying rent at 3x what I was paying for a two-chair setup.

    The choice then was to either start from scratch in a neighbourhood nearby or to go and join my ex-colleague in another township.

    It was in mid-2019 when I chose the latter because at the time Nine and I were planning to leave Malaysia the very next year so it wouldn’t make sense to pour more money into setting up a new premise.

    But I didn’t want to just join Others TA without some form of ownership so I bought some shares and I ran it together with my ex-colleague.

    We had a tremendous run. Made enough in two years to enjoy some dividends.

    Even with the pandemic and all its lockdown iterations, we managed to come out alive.

    There was talk of dissolving but it never came to that.

    And now after 3 years, Nine and I are ready to leave Malaysia so once again I have to close the doors on another business venture.

    Most people close from the financial burden that comes with operating a brick and mortar business so I feel really lucky to be doing so by choice – unrelated to the health of the business.

    I’m not much of a business person as in I don’t think I necessarily have the eye for it. And it’s not like I am raking it in either with the barber business but I’m really proud of what I’ve achieved.

    The fact that I am not crippled with debt or lost my investments is a lot more than most people can say for an entrepreneur.

  • 2022 Notebook Set Up

    From the outside, it doesn’t seem like much.

    Plain leather cover with an elastic band around it to hold the inserts together.

    Simple in design yet gives off an impression that it was handcrafted with the finest materials.

    If you’re not looking closely, it is easy to miss the embossed branding on the bottom left corner at the back of the cover.

    I went with the passport size notebook for its smaller form factor which could easily fit into my daily carry – the AER City Sling 2.

    On top of the blank notebook insert that comes with the starter kit, I also added a zipper pouch, a weekly diary refill and my existing Field Notes Expedition notebook.

    Being able to incorporate the Field Notes notebook into the Traveler’s Company system was what finally convinced me to drop Rm200 on a new setup.

    I’ve tried different notebook brands before but none that feels as harmonious on hand as this.

    Maybe it’s the rough-cut leather, or the high quality Japanese paper.

    Either way, I can’t wait to scuff it up and watch the colour and texture change over time.

    There’s something comforting and familiar about an overused notebook.

    I still have this one from 2014.

  • Infestation

    I saw more rats in the span of half an hour than I had my entire life.

    Big ones. Tiny ones. Mama, papa and all their next of kin.

    Grandma had been co-living with rodents for the past couple of months before her daughters came home to deal with it.

    One night she woke up to something moving on her chest.

    She couldn’t see what it was because it was dark but she flicked whatever it was with the back of her hand and heard a splat on the floor.

    She turned on the light and saw that it was a baby rat.

    My aunt said the rats had been chewing the gas pipes and that it was a miracle the house had not explode especially because grandma uses matches to light the stove.

    We’ve been trying to convince her into a care home but she is steadfast in her decision that it is still not time yet.

    She argues that she is still able to walk but what good are feet if your lungs are constantly breathing in fumes of rat faecal matter.

  • Act Of Resistance

    There was cake, dancing and a lot of alcohol. I had a splitting headache by the end of it (no more tequila for me) but it was truly one of the best nights I’ve had. To be celebrated, accepted, and loved by some of the kindest most giving people I’ve had the pleasure of calling friends is to feel incredibly seen. And what is being seen if not to feel like there is also a place in this world for people like us.