"I think we're the same age..." his voice trailing off at the end, as if unsure of the implicit point he wanted to make.

I studied the profile of the soft-spoken driver and wondered how to proceed past the sudden awkward bump. He was only supposed to drive me to and from the hotel while I was on the project, but had kindly offered to drive me out for lunch due to the miserable dearth of dining options within a walkable distance.

Fifteen minutes later, we pulled up to an area full of eateries. As he killed the engines and I alighted, he merely settled back into the seat.

"Are you going elsewhere for lunch?" I enquired.

"Oh no, " he smiled with a tiny shake of his head, "I wait you here until you finish lunch."

"What. No way, you're joining me for lunch!" I insisted. No lunch? Unacceptable.

Over a simple lunch of mee mamak, noodles stir fried in ketchup with bits of egg, onion, and a chopped up drumstick, he was curious about my life trajectory.

"When did you start working? When did you leave school? What did you study? When did you take your O levels?"

And as I answered and asked in return, he seemed slightly embarrassed.

"I working for six years...I left school because I had to help support my family and my parents cannot cope." In halting English, he shared about his five other siblings, how he picked up English from a client he used to chauffeur, and his previous jobs.

What struck me most was his belief in education being critical for his progress. He plans to take the O Levels at the end of this year. "Because if I don't take, then very hard for me to find job next time." After some probing about his study plans, he revealed, with a hint of wistfulness, "I like geography. I like to know about the volcanoes and mountains...maybe visit them."

It's been a year since. I don't know how he's doing but I sure as hell hope things are working out for him.

Dear Brunei: Guess it's goodbye?

"Are you gonna be back next week? Or anytime soon?" 

"Last day? So you are not coming back anymore? Forever?"

"Come back soon! I hope to see you again!"

Friday marked my last day in Brunei - or the last official day, at least - and it was with some reluctance that I had to (hastily) bid farewell to everyone from the people I've been working with to the housekeeping staff at the hotel, some of whom always made it a point to chit chat with me. I've become fond of a lot of them, not least because of the infectious smiliness and friendliness of everyone there. 

There is certainty in the everyday pace there despite the little external entertainment, and each trip was curiously anticipated. I like that I can count on Kaizen's beef teppanyaki when I'm feeling angsty, that the lady selling satay in a makeshift store at the corner of the street knows me, that the people I work with are so cheery, that the security guards know me by sight, that the airport's less than 15 minutes away, that the parking lots are big, that I can drive all I want there, and that the physical distance from Singapore allows me to reshape my perspective. The only thing I didn't quite appreciate was that the (only) cafe near the office got my drink right just a quarter of the time. (But hey, at least the success rate improved, right?)

Bored in Brunei II: Is it really?

"What's it like there?" 

"How did you find Brunei?"

"It's boring, right?"

My friends and colleagues curiously enquired when I returned. For most of them, Brunei is about the last place they would consider visiting. For those who had the opportunity - or misfortune, as a few corrected - to be there under National Service, the reaction was an almost unanimous disbelief manifested in the form of an incredulously raised eyebrow. Why are you even there??

"Well," I would reply with a shrug of my shoulders, "there admittedly isn't a whole lot to do." They would nod, "Yeah, that's what I heard/ thought," almost glad that this particular view had been affirmed. I usually leave out the part where I also admit that I quite like it there, because there is not a whole lot to do. 

Afterall, Brunei is hardly known for its tourism. The number of Starbucks/ Coffee Bean outlets can be counted on one hand. The largest mall around hardly attracts crowds. There are mosques that are considered some of the most beautiful in Asia Pacific, but there is no Sagrada Familia, no Notre Dame that welcomes visitors and showcases the proud history of the religion or building. There is a water village said to be 'the Venice of the East' but its visual appeal pales in comparison to its well-known counterpart.

But is it boring? Not so. The idea that a place should have loud, well-marketed landmarks with the seal of tourist approval in order not to be boring is irresponsible, for lack of better word. Should not the vanquishing of said boredom be the responsibility of the bored individual? 

Having been deprived of photography outings, I very happily spent two hours wandering around the Sultan Omar Ali Saifuddien Mosque, and by wandering around I mean walking the entire perimeter of the place and beyond, looking for photo-worthy shots.

The Royal Barge rests on an enclosed body of water. Walking around provides an almost unobscured 270 degree view of the barge.

It was pure good timing that the lights came on after my dinner and since it was nearby, I headed back to get picture of the mosque at night.

Beyond the Barge lies Kampong Ayer - the water village - a cluster of 42 villages linked by a mishmash of bridges and is mostly accessible by speed boats. It's a cheap thrill to hop aboard one of them and bounce your way across the water, but more on that the next time. The sunset colours are great here. I often leave the office around the time colours streak across the sky and for the nth time, I would be wishing I could catch that. 

There is an almost unreal sense of contentment that lingers. It could be due to the general lack of people-masses anywhere, but the place hardly feels abandoned - there are pockets of human activity if you look closely enough. The kind where intruding with your presence might break a spell. Time saunters and I am glad it does for it lets me catch my breath and provides me with space to introspect - something I have neglected too much since I started work. Actually looking forward to going back there; it's almost like a short getaway.

WiFi-less in Brunei: Brunei Time

The idea of being involuntarily disconnected might induce a momentary fear that paralyses you. While I was happily ensconced in the hotel room last week, a thunderstorm raged upon the city. At one point it poured so hard that the TV reception got knocked out. At least it wasn't the WiFi, I thought.

Alas, I thought too soon.

This week, the weather had nothing to loss of connectivity; it was the hotel's decision to reboot  the router that did. And along with it came a belated introduction of a Bruneian time warp served on a platter.

"Hi Ma'am, we are just rebooting the router. It will be up again in a few minutes."

Fair enough. So I waited. 90 minutes and another call later, "Hi Ma'am, yes, we are just waiting for the router to refresh. It will be up in a few minutes." Why hello Christine, welcome to the dimension where time has been imbued with stretchy properties.

It was another 40 minutes before the ping of my phone signaled the resurrection of a dependency.

Bored in Brunei I: How it all began

It all started with a casual conversation with a colleague on the way to lunch:

“Would you be interested to do a project in Brunei? It’ll be similar to the project we’re doing now.” 

“Are there photos worth taking there?” 

(Which was a vague, rather pointless thing to ask because subjectivity.)

“Well, there are several mosques that are quite grand, and the beach is potentially nice too.”

 “YeaokayI’min.” Pause. “It’s unlikely I’ll go there for vacation anyway.”

“You know, you’re the first Singaporean I’ve spoken to who want to go to Brunei.” 

 Cue gleam of amusement from him and tinkling of alarm bells in my head as I mentally back-pedalled.

“You know, maybe I should do some research first on the client and place before I get back to you.”

“No no, you’ve already agreed.” 

And it was final.

After an intensive post-lunch Google of Brunei, the one conclusion I arrived at based on trip reviews? Brunei is pretty boring attractions-wise, which roughly translates to: wandering around isn’t the way to go.  Not that I was overly worried – after all, we are fast approaching the age of virtual lives.

Fast forward six weeks. It was a Monday evening when I left after a frenzied rush from a closing meeting back home and then to the airport, with dinner consumed blindly in the backseat of the car.