Listening To Preacher-Gospel Singer Henry Chang Han Lin

Last Saturday, when I telephoned Siew Hong from Batu Pahat to chat with her, she invited me to attend the Chinese service in her church on Sunday at 9am because there would be a special guest speaker Reverend Henry Chang Han Lin who had won the Singapore nationwide singing competition some twenty years ago. As a Johorian, I had grown up with Singapore's Channel 8. But I was then too young to remember his name and face. Since the City Community Church (CCC) was on my way back to Melaka for the English service at Calvary Life Assembly (CLA) at 10.30am, I was keen to go.

The next day, I arrived at CCC after less than two hours' driving. When the service started, Siew Hong was wondering why Ps Chang did not lead the worship. When he was introduced on the stage to sing his first song solo, I believed he had wanted to keep his performances as a surprise for the congregation until then.

Between songs, Ps Chang, in his forties, gave us a short account of his career from a professional pop singer under Singapore Broadcasting Corporation (SBC) to an evergreen full-time gospel singer who travels around the world to preach about Jesus' love through his songs and life testimony.

Not only he is a born performing artist, he is also gifted in writing and composing annointed songs and produced his own gospel music albums.

As the CCC sanctuary was not big, the stage was very near the seats. We could fully enjoy Ps Chang's beautiful voice with the sound system. I had the impression that I was attending a live mini-concert rather than a church service.

Towards the end, he presented a 1960's oldie "Nan Ping Wan Zhong" (The Evening Bell of Nanping) and explained to us how the world is running after human love which is uncertain, and that only God's eternal love will bring us peace and joy.

Ps Chang was very good at interacting with his audience and often invited us to sing along with him. Sitting next to Siew Hong who used to sing in church choirs, I was also blessed by her sweet accompanying voice.

After the service, Ps Joanne mentioned to the guest speaker that I was actually not from her church. So Ps Chang approached me to shake hands and talk to me. I gave compliments to him for his songs and told him that I must have watched him singing on the television during the SBC times in the past. He was a bit surprised but pleased to hear that.

I bought an album of his to support his ministry. Siew Hong who had already known him as a gospel singer took two CDs. I passed mine to Ps Chang to sign his autograph on the CD. Before he left, this friendly pastor shook hands with us again. I said to him that I looked forward to his future live performances. He told me that he would come to Melaka again next year.

Since yesterday morning, I have become Ps Chang's fan!

Sending Kit To The Barber's

Last Monday afternoon, my handphone rang. Kit asked me if I would be free to send him to the barber's the next day. The previous Thursday when I had visited him, I had already noticed that his hair had grown long but I had never thought of offering him any help for a hair cut.

My afternoon BOM class at Malim had happened to be cancelled Tuesday. So I was planning to spend a few hours at Calvary Care Home before attending my night MLM class. Even though Kit's request would not disturb my programme at all, I did not confirm with him what time exactly I would be at his place. That evening, however, I told myself that if I wanted to lead a sincere externally focused life, I should change my attitude to help people not only when it was convenient for me.

When I arrived at his place the next day afternoon, his room door was locked. While wondering why he was not yet back from the centre where he received his physiotherapy during weekdays, I read my MLM notes. About an hour later, someone sent him back. Actually Kit had also waited for me there from 4pm onwards. I was the one who had not listened to him carefully and so had misunderstood where I was supposed to pick him.

Nevertheless, Kit was happy to see me. He slowly lifted his body from the wheelchair, sat onto the front passenger's seat in my car and directed me to the barber's. He told me that the man who used to transport him had resigned from his voluntary work two months ago. Since, his hair had not been cut.

The shop was at the roadside nearby. At first he asked me to stop right in front of it. As it was too near the junction, I preferred to park further. When he got out from my car, Kit suddenly realised that he had forgot to bring along his walking stick, without which it was very hard for him to drag inch by inch to his usual sitting place.

Seeing Kit's slow and tedious move, the barber who was going to close his shop soon decided to place a chair next to my car, pull the extension wire from the window

and start shaving Kit's head there and then!

It must be the first open-air experience to both the boss and the client. I was amused by the scene very much.

The barber looked stern in the beginning. As I walked around to take pictures, he smilingly introduced his shop which had been existing for forty-five years.

"You can't find this kind of barbershop elsewhere in Melaka."

"Has any newspaper ever reported on your shop?"

"Yes, Malay papers."

"Then I'll be the first to write about it in English."

He proudly showed me a family picture of the former Indonesian president Sukarno above a mirror and another black and white portrait of himself.

When I stared at his younger handsome face inside the frame, I thought of one of Dad's old photographs with the similar hairstyle and contemplative look.

"Have you been to Medan?"

"No, I haven't visited Indonesia yet but I'd like to go there one day."

"I was born and stayed in Medan until the age of eighteen..." Now I understood why he had an attachment to our neighbouring country.

Kit's hair was trimmed neatly within minutes. When I took out my wallet to pay for Kit, Uncle Maze said to me in Hokkien, "You're very kind hearted, that's good!"

I was amazed at this 74-year-old Malay elderly's fluency in the Chinese dialect. I had no intention of digging up his past stories. However, he was not reluctant to tell me more about his family background. He actually had grown up with Chinese Indonesian relatives from his mother's side.

If I were a man, I would have liked to be the next client to be attended to in this antique barbershop by Uncle Maze who was two years Kit's senior.

I thanked God for this interesting encounter. When I looked at Kit's satisfied face and fresh look, I was also glad to be his driver for this short trip. The joy I felt in return was worth much more than the half an hour and the RM5 I had spent. May God continue to use me as a blessing to whoever in need.

It Was Only The Third Dental Clinic

This morning when I woke up, the first thing I remembered was not the eighth anniversary of the September 11 attacks, but my appointment for the eighth visit to the dentist's this year. Since I already knew the location of the Community Polyclinic at Durian Tunggal, I only started driving after 8am and reached there five minutes early.

As I was entering the reception, I saw several people at the waiting lounge. At first I thought today was a very busy day. When I showed my visit card and took a seat at the back, I realized only two of them were quiet patients with their mouths covered with masks while the rest were the staff chatting among themselves in front of the television!

I stood up again to look at posters on the wall. I particularly liked one with a slogan "Reduce sweetness in drinks; Add sweetness in smiles." I had no problem to practise that. But to smile sweetly, I must have good teeth. That was why I had been touring Melaka to receive treatments for a decayed molar of mine since last February.

I was called to the dental room very soon and recognized the young endodontist, despite his mask, who had spent almost two hours patiently scrapping my infected pulp out of the root canals during the previous treatment. He asked me if I had experienced any pain since then. Everything had been fine except that the temporary filling had been a bit cracked.

Special big sun glasses were placed on my eyes and rubber sheet on my mouth. This time, the dentist did not inject anaesthetic as the whole procedure was not going to cause me great pain. He only rubbed some cream on the tooth area and removed the temporary filling. He then injected medicines to the root canals.

I was comfortably lying on the dentist's chair facing cute animals stickers on the wall and scary tools hanging on the bracket.

After he had filled the cavity with an inert material made of rubber, the dentist asked an assistant to take a burner. It was a machine which heated up a drill. When he used the hot drill to cut the extra cavity filling, smoke literally came out of my mouth! He finally placed the permanent filling and took an X-ray of the molar. I thought it was the final procedure and was glad that it had only taken about an hour. I was about to thank everybody and get ready to leave when the endodontist said to me,

"After the root canal treatment, your tooth has become fragile because there is no more blood to supply nutrition to it. We usually advise our patients to have a crown to protect the tooth. If you agree, we'll send the impression of your tooth to the lab to make a crown. It'll cost RM135. You'll get it next year. We'll have moved to Ayer Keroh..."

Hoping to keep my smiles sweet for a longer time, I let them put me in the list and started counting down to visit the fourth dental clinic in Melaka in February 2010.

Tour Of Melaka With Three Dental Clinics

After my first root canal treatment, I waited four months for the second one fixed on 10 August. Unfortunately, I had classes on Monday mornings this semester. So I had to cancel my appointment when the clinic's receptionist telephoned me last Thursday to confirm the date and the new venue. At first, I was told that my next appointment would probably be next year. Two days ago, the lady called me again to ask if I would be available this Wednesday as there was an available time slot. I was very free as well. The only small problem was that I had no idea on the location of the oral surgery specialist's clinic which had recently moved to Durian Tunggal.

Therefore, I left my house this morning before eight to make sure that I would not be late for my appointment at 8.30am. By following the sign board and asking an employee at a petrol station at Durian Tunggal, I easily found the Community Polyclinic. This was the third dental clinic I visited this year after the one in Alor Gajah and the other one in Melaka town.

I did not have to sit too long at the reception before I was called to the room. I would not say that I had joy when lying down on the dentist's chair. But at least I had peace, knowing that God was with me. Since my last experience at the Melaka Hospital, I seized this opportunity to pray for the dentist and his assistants.

First, the endodontist numbed my gums with a substance. Next, he injected a local anaesthetic that completely numbed the teeth, gums, tongue, and skin in that area. He separated the decayed molar from the other teeth with a protection and removed the temporary filling.

A nurse placed big sun glasses on my eyes to avoid water and tooth chips. The dentist also fixed on my mouth a rubber sheet with a hole in the middle to prevent my two rows of teeth from shutting anytime during the treatment. Then he started drilling into the pulp chamber with tools. He also used a beeping machine to detect something at my tooth but I did not know its exact function.

One hour later, the young specialist was still trying to scrap the infected pulp out of the root canals with broach files in different sizes. I was wondering why it took so long when the assistant asked the endodontist if he had found the pulp. Apparently the latter was not able to reach the end of the root canals. So he removed the rubber sheet on my mouth and instructed me to shift to the opposite room to take an X-ray of the molar. Even then I had no chance to close my mouth as something was still stuck inside it.

After studying the image, the endodontist realized that my root canals were slightly curved. Now he knew better how to deal with my tooth. We were back to the original room to continue the painless but visually unpleasant scrapping until he removed all the internal pulp and inserted some materials to the canals temporarily. Then we went to the X-ray room for the second time to check with another dentist if the shaping of the canals was satisfying. I was grateful that he did not show any impatience during the whole procedure. When I asked him by mumbling if everything was OK, he would always explain the current situation to me with his tender voice.

Lastly the dentist placed the temporary filling again. Since Dr Hussain last February, the opening of this tooth of mine had been sealed and unsealed four times! And what a blessing of it to be taken care of by three dentists all over Melaka...

My mouth had been kept wide open for two consecutive hours during the root canal treatment. Even if I had nagged for two hours, I would have closed my mouth sometimes to pause. So it was another record! When I drove away from the polyclinic, it was going to be 11am. The right side of my mouth was still numb. Thank God I had no class after that and could just quietly stay at the office.

The story of my visits to dental clinics has not yet come to an end this year. One more appointment is coming next month...

Ten Days' Visitation

I had been cold-hearted with cats for years, until Ivy walked into my life.

Other cats usually intruded my house to rest, to use the garden as their public toilets, to look for fish bones or fat that I had thrown at a particular place for them, or to try to steal food that I had carelessly left uncovered.

This kitten first appeared at the backyard on a Friday and tried to get my attention by mewing. With her innocent eyes, tiny frame and long fluffy tail, she looked too cute to be ignored.

But since I had made up my mind not to keep any pets at home, I prevented her from entering the dining room. But she often successfully found an opportunity to slip into it.

She was seeking a shelter, and most of all, love.

Whenever she saw me at the wet kitchen, she would approach me and passionately rub her head against my feet. Conscious about the hygiene, I felt so irritated to have any physical contact with a street animal that I kicked her off. Sometimes discouraged for awhile, she would soon forget about my unkind act and continue to show her friendship to me. At night, she slept on the slippers on the shoe rack outside.

Once I tried to let her follow me to other roads, expecting her to go astray. But she found her way back to my house which offered no warm welcome. I even planned to leave her at Tanjung Bidara. But VC dissuaded me.

I finally gave up my attempts to abandon her. Instead, I let VC to give her some milk which she strangely did not even touch with her tongue. Only later VC explained to me that sick cats were generally not active. This kitten was lack of appetite probably because of her eyes which were always filled with smelly yellow liquid. When it was dry, the cat could hardly open her eyes. Only when she rubbed it away with her front legs, she had a better sight.

I remembered a lovely cat that I had reared when I was small bore the same characteristics. Compassion arouse in my heart and I began to loose my boundaries. One rainy morning, the skinny cat must be feeling very cold that she insisted to squeeze her body into the house and stayed motionless next to the dustbin. This time, I decided not to chase her out. Nevertheless, I still did not allow her to move further inside the house and made sure she was out at night.

After one week of her appearance, I was much more tolerant with her rubbing. We started to call her Ivy. A piece of cloth was specially put on the shoe rack so that she would have more warmth when sleeping on it. The ninth day of her presence, she was watching me under my car while I was cutting grass. I photographed her for the first time.

Ivy was definitely underweight. But she could hardly finish half of any food we placed in front of her. She became so uninterested in eating that even cat food that VC purposely bought for her did not stimulate her appetite. It ended up in the stomachs of other lucky bigger and fatter cats who passed by.

We thought of bringing her to an animals' clinic but we had no idea if there was one nearby. I used to be acquainted with two veterinarian friends. Unfortunately they were no longer in Melaka.

The tenth day of her visit, a Sunday afternoon after I came back from church, I took the initiative to caress her and clean her dirty eyes with tissue paper. She looked fine despite her frail body. I tried to feed her with a hot dog but she just refused to eat. So, I still cut a small piece and left on the shoe rack where I saw her for the last time.

The next morning, she disappeared. The meat was neither there. I optimistically thought she had just gone to neighbours' houses and would come back later. Up to today, there is no sign of her.

It was when I was ready to give my love to Ivy that she left me. Life is like that sometimes, isn't it?

If you see this cat somewhere, please tell her that I wait for her to come back.

Another Nice Experience With A Dentist

I went to the dental clinic of Alor Gajah three times within two months to get all my cracked filings redone, except for one. Dr Hussain had alerted me at my first visit that if I did not wish that molar to be extracted, I needed to go for the root canal treatment.

I sought advice from my colleague KC, who unfortunately had a lot of dental problems due to her crowded teeth. She sometimes described bad experiences of her teeth treatments for which she had spent thousands of ringgits. Yet, her physical sufferings were still persistent.

"If you can use that tooth for another thirty years, try to save it by all means. Once you lose it, imagine that you can't bite normally anymore."

Despite my naturally aligned teeth, I also used to spend hundreds for scaling and filings at private clinics. Since I had been working with other civil servants, I learnt to make use of our public health centres instead of paying much more to the private sector.

On Monday, I departed from Batu Pahat at around 6.15am. Thank God YT had not been able to ask me out for tea the previous night, because I would have gone to bed very late and felt more sleepy during my two hours' driving the next morning.

I arrived at the compound of the Melaka Hospital and approached an employee in front of the orthopaedic building who kindly showed me the way to the oral surgery specialist's clinic. I waited half an hour for my turn.

"Good morning." I smiled.

The endodontist's mouth was masked. When I heard his voice, I knew he was a Malay.

"You're a lecturer from UiTM?" This was the first time a doctor had talked about my personal detail before I started any conversation.

"I'm just a language teacher. But everybody there gets the title of a lecturer."

I explained to him the purpose of my visit which he probably had known by reading the reference letter that I had obtained from Dr Hussain of Alor Gajah.

"Another specialist is on leave. So, today I'm just going to examine your tooth first and its cavities to see if I can perform the first few steps of the treatment. At your next appointment, she'll decide if your tooth is restorable or to be extracted."

When he mentioned the possibility of the extraction, I heard my heart pumping hard. I quickly prayed in my heart, "Father God, I commit this tooth into Your mighty hands. Please save it and be with me during the whole treatment."

The dentist administered local anaesthetic. Soon after that, my molar and the surrounding area were numb. He asked me to signal if I felt any pain and gave me the good remark that I was relaxed. He was going to clean the pulp from the pulp chamber and root canals and to shape the space for filling. Lying on the dental chair, I could see him using very small instruments in and out of my mouth while chatting with his assistant. When my mouth was available, he also talked to me shortly.

God's presence and the endodontist's friendly voice calmed my spirit. While I was regretting my neglect of the teeth care had led me to travel all the way there to have the endodontic treatment, the Spirit of God spoke to me, "If you were not here, you would never know this place and meet these people. Pray for them."

Then I remembered "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose." (Romans 8:28 NKJV). God wanted me to focus on other people rather than my tooth problem. So I started to pray in my heart for the endodontist, the assistant and other nurses whose faces I did not even see clearly. I asked God to bless each and every one of them. During the whole procedure, I was very comfortable.

The dentist placed a new temporary filing to close the opening. Then he told me, "I've killed the roots. After the anaesthetic is gone, your tooth may feel sensitive for the first few days because I pricked it just now. If the discomfort continues, come back here. Otherwise, at the next appointment you'll have a crown placed on the tooth."

"Thank you, Doctor. God bless you!" It had become a new habit of mine.

He had removed his mask but I still did not catch his face well.

I did not feel any pain until now. And I can add another record to the nice experiences that I have had with dentists.

A Nice Dentist From Iraq

I was having toothache on and off after the fillings of my premolars and molars had cracked more and more. The pain was unbearable especially during the Chinese New Year season, when I drank hot soups and cold soft drinks. Even chewing fruits taken out from the fridge was a torture.

I finally made up my mind to go to the dentist's, which I had delayed since the end of last year. I had been to the government clinics and the private ones. So far, thank God I had not had any nightmarish experiences with dentists.

I drove to the Alor Gajah dental clinic early in the morning on the Monday after my mid-semester break. I did not wait too long before my turn. About one and a half year ago, my previous dentist was a pretty and friendly Chinese lady who later moved to Selangor to set up her own clinic after her marriage. This time, the one on duty was a man with a Middle-East face. So, I decided to speak in English first. His accent in English strengthened my belief that he was a foreigner.

After the check-up, he told me that some of my fillings were to be redone and the molar where I was having most pain needed root canal treatment if I wanted to save my tooth. As this kind of restorative treatment was not available there, he only covered the hole of that molar with temporary filling and advised me to go to a private clinic. Otherwise, an extraction would be the last option. I then fixed another appointment with him for the filling of other teeth.

That Friday evening, I had a cell meeting. At the end, refreshments were served. After I had munched on some extra-hard muruku (an Indian snack), I could feel with the point of my tongue that a part of the temporary filling was missing!

The following Monday morning, I went out for breakfast with Jagan. While I was eating chicken rojak (salad dish), my teeth must have crushed on some bones which broke the filing some more.

The episode did not end there. In the afternoon, I visited my former neighbours to wish them a happy Chinese New Year. While chatting with them and savouring all kinds of cookies and snacks, a big piece of the filling cracked again!

So, most the filing had gone within one week instead of one month which had been predicted by the dentist. But I thank God that the small piece left was big enough to cover the root.

Almost two weeks after the first treatment, I went to the clinic again. The same Dr Hussain received me.

"Good afternoon," he gently said to me after I had greeted him with a smile, "so what's your decision?"

"Good afternoon, Doctor," I answered, "I'd like to keep my tooth, but can you please do another filling for me before I go for the root treatment, because the one that you did last time has already fallen after one week. The miracle is that I didn't feel pain at all."

"Oh, it has already fallen?! No problem, I'll do another one for you. Now I'm going to do the other fillings first. Do you need injection?"

"It's okay. I can stand the pain," While lying on the dentist's chair with my mouth wide open, in my heart I called Jesus to be with me.

Instantly, no fear, no pain.

When there was a pause, I finally asked him the question which I had been keeping since my previous visit.

"Doctor, you don't look like a local. Where do you come from?"

I guess he was not expecting a female patient to ask about his identity. Nonetheless, he answered with a cheerful voice, "I'm a Malaysian!"

I knew he was joking. Indeed, after a few seconds, he added, "I'm from the Middle East."

"I know."

"I come from Iraq, the most dangerous country in the world!"

"Don't say that, Doctor!" How I wished I could tell him that the Eden garden, the place of happiness of innocence that God had created for Adam and Eve, was somewhere in his homeland.

It was not a suitable occasion to talk about the political situation. Thus, I changed the topic.

"Doctor, I think I should change my habit of eating nuts."

"But you don't have many nuts here. In my country, we have all kinds of nuts: hazelnuts, almonds, pistachios...Sometimes, I ask my family to send them to Malaysia."

He did altogether two permanent fillings at the left side and a temporary one at the right ride. It took about more three quarters to accomplish the whole task!

When everything was done, Dr Hussain said to me,"Don't bite with your left teeth within the next twenty-four hours, OK? That's all. Thank you for your patience."

"Thank you very much, Doctor," I was the one grateful for his patience. "And God bless you!"

That was the only present I could give him. He nodded his head with a smile.

Before I left, he reminded me, "Remember, don't eat nuts!"

A Group Of Good Samaritans II

I still had a second worry--Dragging my luggage and running after the RER in Roissy and the train in Paris were quite tiring. And I was not sure to catch the early afternoon train. Since the group appeared in front of me, I bravely made my second request.

"How are you going back to Besançon?"

"By bus. Normally Our driver will be waiting for us at the airport."

I seized the opportunity, "May I travel to Besançon with you? I'm willing to pay the bus fare."

"I think there shouldn't be any problem." one said.

"You know, we're only twenty-five people and our bus can accommodate forty. There will be a lot of free seats. You're welcome to join us." another added.

"The only worry is that we're all bound to a travel agency, so we are all insured. If any accident happens on our way back and since you aren't insured, it might cause trouble to the driver. Otherwise, we have no objection to letting you join us." another was more careful with the promise.

"We aren't sure if the driver alone could decide whether to take you or not. Anyway we'll try to persuade him." the fourth comment also could not give me 100% assurance.

"I understand the road safety ruling in France is very strict. Anyway, if I can join you, I'd be very glad. If I can't, never mind. I'll just take the train." I was still very grateful to them for being so friendly to me.

Later during our chat before we had board the plane, I learned that they had just made a trip to Thailand before flying back to France with a long transit in Bahrain like me. And the hotel accommodation they had been offered by Gulf Air had not been as nice as mine in terms of location and hygiene. Of course, they had not experienced the hospitality in Manama like I had thanks to Alex!

Our airbus was only half occupied. I sat alone near the window, next to the left wing of the plane. On my right was an empty seat. Most of those Besançonese were scattered at my back. I spoke to nobody else, but God.

"Lord, I thank you for making my journey very smooth so far. If that's Your will, I would like to join these Besançonese back with their bus, which would save my cost and trouble of running between the RER station and the railway station. But if You think I should take the transports all by myself to recall some old memories, I'd be still glad to accept it and thank these people for their kindness."

At almost 1pm, we landed in Paris. I found my new friends back while presenting our passport at the custom and getting back our luggage. Mr Bonnefoux continued chatting with me, and a lady teased him, "Later you can tell the driver that you've just adopted a daughter and would like to bring her back to Besançon."

When we stepped into the arrival hall, their bus driver was already waiting. Mr Bonnefoux quickly walked towards the driver and briefly explained my situation. The driver said something in return but as I was a bit far from them, I could not know the answer. I approached them, with my heart beating fast due to uncertainty.

"Sir, may I join you to Besançon?"

"There is no problem with me." He assured me with a smile.

"Really, I thank you very much." I was completely relieved. God had approved my request!

Mr Bonnefoux gave me further explanation,"Two of our members have decided to stay in Paris instead of going back to Besançon with us. So we have two available passengers seats which are insured in the driver's list. That's why your participation won't cause him any trouble."

The whole group was happy for me. I felt so blessed.

I asked Mr Basso if he could send SMS the Toitots on my behalf. He generously passed his mobile phone to me and encouraged me to make a call.

"Hello, Néness! This is Lee Sah. How are you?"

"Oh, Lee Sah. Where are you now?" I had not heard their voice on the phone for more than five years.

"I'm still at the airport. My flight was delayed. I've met a group of Besançonese and I'm to join them to travel back to Besançon by bus. The journey will take about five hours. If it doesn't trouble you, please wait for me at the parking of the Parqueon factory near the ice-skating centre at Planoise from 6pm onwards."

"Really? Okay. We're going to wait for you there at 6pm."

The chance of meeting someone from Besançon in Bahrain was small. The possibility of having a group of Besançonese sitting next to me, and taking the same flight was even tinier. But I made it and got the direct trip from the airport to Besançon!! That was so incredible.

All my transport and communication problems were settled thanks to this group of good Samaritans! Wasn't God's arrangement more than perfect?

A Group Of Good Samaritans I

It was about 4 o'clock in the morning. Fifteen minutes earlier, I had just said goodbye to Alex and reported myself to the receptionist of Baisan Hotel who had called me several times in my room but no response from me. He must have been wondering what a female Asian tourist like me could have been doing in this Arabian city in the middle of the night. I was smiling in my heart, thinking, "Don't worry, your colleague has just brought me out for a night visit in the city. He has been a good guide. Here I'm back safe and sound." I apologised, quickly took the lift back to my room, in which I had hardly spent 3 hours, took my bag, before going back to the reception for the check-out.

When I was dropped by the hotel shutter at Bahrain International Airport, only two counters were open for the check-in. As I had been given the boarding pass for Bahrain-Paris at (KLIA) Kuala Lumpur International Airport, I skipped the first procedure, simply presented the pass to the custom officer and headed to my gate.

It was too early for me to take breakfast and my stomach was still filled with the snack that Alex had shared with me at the park. And neither was I in the mood of idling in duty-free shops.

I was desperate for a seat to rest and record my unexpected stay in Manama city while my memory was still fresh, though a bit blurred at the same time due to lack of sleep. At the waiting lounge of the Gate 37, several passengers were already there. I supposed all of us were flying to the same country. With five and a half hours delay, I estimated our landing time would be around 1pm in Paris. My friends Toitots were not yet informed. I planed to seek help from a passenger to text them as soon as we landed in Paris later.

I took out my note book and started jotting down ideas for my blog entries before a group of Westerners came towards my seating, conversing in French. As I was seated in the middle of the row of those chairs, I pushed myself to the end, telling them in French to have my seat.

I was not paying attention to their conversation although their accent sounded familiar to me. At first, I heard them mentioning 'Lyon'. I thought they might originate from the second biggest city of France. Suddenly, I caught the word "Besançon" which distracted my writing. Besançon was not an important city in France. It was very unusual to hear its name in a Middle-East city.

Without much hesitation, I turned my head and asked the those sitting next to me on my right,

"Excuse me, are you from Besançon?"

"Yes."

I almost could not believe my ears.

"I'm going to Besançon. Can you please do me a favor?"

"Sure, but it depends on what you're going to ask."

"I told my friends in Besançon to wait for me at the railway station at around 1pm. But now with the delay of the flight, we'll have just reached Paris at 1pm. Would you mind sending them a message on my behalf as my mobile phone doesn't work."

"No problem." A lady quickly took out her mobile phone, ready to press on the buttons.

"There's no hurry to contact them from here now, but later when we reach the Charles-de-Gaulle Airport in Paris."

My first problem was solved.