It's been a while since I wrote about my Dad in this blog.  Partly because I became aware that a few people that know both me and him are reading it. Well, Dad had a knee replacement in early December and has been in various hospitals and rehabilitation centres ever since.  He had hoped that a new knee would effectively "cure" his increasing immobility, but this always seemed like a long shot and the actual outcome has been fairly predictable - the new knee was successfully fitted, but the long period of recovery has meant that his mobility is worse not better and he has had problems with the various infections one tends to pick up in hospital. So Dad is now in that grey area in which so many older people find themselves - on the cusp of being able to survive at home and being cared for in an institution, at the boundary between the NHS and local government social services, unclear whether he is sick enough to be looked after for free or is suffering from the ordina...

We spent last weekend at Batang Ai where there is a tribal longhouse "resort" run by Hilton Hotels of all people.  Lots of Sue's fellow mentors were there and we had a very chilled time walking, swimming, eating and generally hanging out.  The resort is in a remote spot on the edge of a large reservoir near the Indonesian border and can only be reached by a twenty minute ferry trip from the nearest road, adding to the sense of peace and isolation.  On our first morning we got up to see and hear the dawn and in the jungle above the resort found the grave of a Headman of a longhouse.  In the early morning light surrounded by the jungle, a rope bridge and the deafening dawn chorus of birds and insects, the spot had a mysterious and melancholy air and I felt sad that the grave was now a tourist sideshow rather than a place of veneration. When we got back from our weekend I did some research and found out that the reservoir is part of a hydro-electric project constru...

There is a saying in Malaysia that "the sea unites and the land divides" and this is certainly true of Sarawak.  The place is really a collection of inhabited islands surrounded by rivers, marsh and jungle, traditionally linked by boat.  Tarmac roads are a new development and there is only one single lane highway which connects the main towns and cities.  Kabong, the town where Sue is based only got a connecting road a few years ago and the village of Perpat, where one of her schools is located, still does not have one.  To get there Sue has to wait by the riverbank for a ferryman to show up.  This can involve balancing on rickety jetties and clambering up slimy ladders, depending on the state of the tide. Normally when we want to go to Kuching, the provincial capital, we drive - a trip of about 300 kilometres which takes about five hours.  But last weekend we took the ferry.  By sea it is 150 kilometres to Kuching, which takes about three and ha...

Last week I finally bit the bullet and handed out a simple flyer to three local shopkeepers who have been enquiring about English lessons.  I've been delaying because I was in a real dilemma about what to charge.  If I offer free lessons there is the risk that I will be inundated with requests and will end up working too hard for nothing and resenting it.  On the other hand if I price lessons at European rates they would simply be unaffordable for most local people. On the basis that it's easier to drop your prices than to raise them I've started high, basing my rates on my earning forty ringgits per hour (about £10).  Bearing in mind that an hour of teaching will take me at least an hour to prepare, then that brings me down to £5 per hour, lower than the minimum wage in the UK, if there still is one.  Not much for Europe, but still a lot for rural Borneo, where a school teacher earns about £500 per month and a shop worker maybe a fraction of that. Why bot...