Hey guys, I found the perfect job for anti-social people.

Alright, might have been a bit too premature in sharing that I've been way too free at my workplace. But then again, it was sort of the truth. Having the luxury of not having much to do lasted all of...

2 days.

Then the dam burst.

Now I'm going home at around 9-11pm every day, starting work the moment I touch base in office at 7am and as I reach home sometime before 12am, I would either continue work late into the night or pass out immediately.

Work.

More effective than Rohypnol.

Then again, I'm better off than my cousin who's staying longer in the office and working later into the night, and much better than my senior who arrives to work before I do and getting home much, much later. Even some of my batch mates are already considering 11pm as an "early" time to get off work.

...We just started work barely a month ago.

Right now, I'm leaving a backlog of shit to do and completing a stupid e-learn for our "Continuing Professional Development".

People, heed my warning;

Never be an auditor and a member of a professional body.

Just... No.

Alright, going to continue wasting my life away with keeping my head above waters with workload and foregoing social life completely now. But then again, didn't have much of a social life to begin with... I guess this won't be much of a struggle then.

Enjoy your non-auditor life.

Today is...

I can't talk about work because the project I'm involved in is confidential.

Though, I don't exactly understand how my new mastery of the new "change to landscape" function on the photocopier or using an oversized stapler is considered confidential.

Seriously though, I was slotted for a rare slot at doing something out of the normal scope of work, which I was informed made it more complex. Not only is it completely different from what my other fresh colleagues are doing, there's only two other people involved. And the work load is crazy.

Only, I'm new and the only thing I can contribute to is my wide-eyed stare and terrified glances at the document pile. Even my superiors couldn't understand how a new employee could be joining them. Thus, with my skill set, I am totally KILLING the world's fastest speed at punching papers and playing Solitaire when no one's looking.

My batchmates, however, are doing relevant work-related stuff and going home at 11pm. After just two weeks of joining.

And myself? I had enough time to reorganise the Media files in my music player.

But hey, if I'm still getting high pay even if I'm continuously clicking on my empty desktop to look busy and typing "BORED" 17,294 times in Notepad, I'm all for it.

Oh, and I now understand how Nurisya can genuinely like Rebecca Black's Friday song.

IT'S FRIDAY, PEOPLE!

Google Dabai. "Did you mean Dubai?"

“What. In. The. World. Is. That?”

“You’ve never seen it before?”

“How does ‘Hell-To-The-Naw’ sounds to you?”

“But you’re Sarawakkian, you should know of it.”

This is Nasi Goreng Dabai, or Dabai Fried Rice. It’s pure awesome and you’ve probably never heard of it. Which I’m going to emphasize, because it makes me feel like less of a loser for not having heard of it as well.

I know, I know, you’re not from Sarawak and your ignorance makes sense. Shut up.

So... Dabai is a fruit.

I googled dabai and there were less than five relevant results for it, which was to be expected. I could plagiarise and sound all smart and shit, but you know, as I usually confess easily;

Too lazy.

So go have a read here.

The dabai, having been seasoned with salt, was overpowering in its saltiness, but when I shoved another spoonful of fried rice into my mouth, it tasted just right. The dabai tasted... unique, different. It was full, rich, the texture was smooth and it had a strongly distinct flavour. I don’t think anything else could replicate the taste, neither can I exactly describe it. It’s nothing like any other salted variety of fried rice, like Nasi Goreng Ikan Masin or I don’t know, Nasi Goreng Garam or something.

But I would definitely have it again.

Anyway, as it turns out, I did know of Dabai, it was a fruit I did have as a kid, I just didn’t know its name or that it was native to only Borneo. Ten years later, it’s only natural that I forget. It’s hard to come by, since the other name for it is Sibu olive. It’s not as easy to get in Kuching as hawkers selling it at the weekly market would have to bring it all the way from Sibu, the only place where it’s harvested. Oh, and it’s seasonal.

Sibu, like most of the small cities in Sarawak could hardly be called a city. A few modern buildings, official looking establishments and widely-sparse residential areas restricted within a small circumference hardly fitting to be deemed a “city”. Sometimes there’s a small airport, but most of the time a short drive, meaning several house (like, ten), is the only means to get to places.

Oh, and helicopters.

But that’s how most cities in Sarawak are. Sarawak is huge, mostly underdeveloped, proudly rural, jungles spewing forth everywhere and cities are several miles apart. Roads are not always accessible. I drove three hours to another nearby city from Kuching for a “day-trip”.

On the way there though, you could find several small creeks, untouched rivers, hot springs or beautiful landscapes of nature where you could literally park by the roadside, take out the picnic basket you packed and have one hell of a breakfast, lunch, or evening tea by the crystal clear waters set in pebbled stones and shaded by wild trees.

It’s breathtaking.

It is definitely fitting to be called “Borneo” or the “Rainforest”.

So travellers, if you visit Sarawak, while you’re having the Kolo Mee, Laksa Sarawak and Teh C Peng Special, don’t forget Nasi Goreng Dabai as well. It’s rare and a only few places sell it though, so good luck.

Three Layers of Pure Awesomeness

The overhead ceiling fan whirred loudly, slowly cooling the sweat off new customers entering the open-styled restaurant.

If you can even call it a restaurant.

The timid waitress scuffles about, order sheet and pen perfunctorily in each hand. Before she even settles on a table, a command booms over the relaxing gusts of artificial wind.

“Dik, Teh C Peng Special sigek!”

It’s been awhile since I came home, but for the eight days that I stayed in my hometown, every meal eaten outside was accompanied by this novelty drink.

Before I take a sip, I would note the beads of condensation on the ice cold glass of drink that could only be described as inviting as the sun continues to beat down relentlessly on the Land of the Hornbill. Even the crinkle of ice against each other was music to my ears.

There’s a trick to taking the first few sips of this local drink, which is what I never fail to look forward to. With the straw held firmly in your fingers, start sipping from the bottom and quickly work your way up.

It comes in stages. The refreshing taste of pandan hits you first, then comes the slight hint of brown sugar which would later be overpowered by the sweetness of the condensed milk, before your taste buds settles on the slight bitterness and unique taste of the red tea.

Pure. Ecstasy.

After the first three or five times though, you get a bit self conscious when you notice the nine year old sitting next to you drinking it exactly the same way. Then, you clear your throat and stir the triple mixture like the adult you try to appear to be, coalescing it into the boring brown colour of a normal Teh Tarik. Then you remind yourself not to repeat the act of drinking like an idiot again.

But then, at the next stall and with the same order, you conveniently forget to remember.

Teh C Peng is also called Three Layer Tea, and I think the name was given by West Malaysians when the drink was brought over from the East, from Borneo. Try as I may though, I have never, ever found a glass of Teh C Peng as refreshing, inviting and perfect as the ones from Sarawak, where it originated. The best I had for this trip was probably the one at J&J Corner, the one I had on my last day, as pictured above.

I love my hometown.