IT'S become a bit of a cliche on Super Bowl Sunday for casual American football fans to claim they only watch the game for the commercials.

With more than 100 million viewers in the US alone, the Super Bowl is consistently the most-watched television broadcast of the year, and advertisers are forced to cough up millions for access to all those eyeballs. A 30-second spot this year went for between US$2.5 million (S$3.55 million) and US$2.8 million.

All the spots were filled with a week to spare. The ads — which have become almost as import as the game itself — straddle the line between amusing and inane; there are busty women, talking babies and more than a couple superstars hawking everything from snacks and beverages to Internet start-ups.

Even the fans who tune in for the football will inevitably end up debating which ads were good and which were just stupid. But this year, the usual low-brow fare will air beside ads with content that is socially agitating.

It's debatable what role issues of social consequence have at the Super Bowl, or sport in general. But broadcaster CBS has brought that debate to the fore with the ads it's chosen to run and those on which it chose to pass.

One spot in particular has sparked a firestorm of debate about what is appropriate material for viewers on one of America's favorite secular holidays.

It reportedly features college gridiron standout Tim Tebow and his mother, Pam, speaking out against abortion. In the ad, it is said, Mrs Tebow tells her story of a missionary trip she took to the Philippines while pregnant in 1987. After a tropical disease she contracted put the lives of both her and her fetus at risk, she says, local doctors urged her to have an abortion.

As a devout Christian, she refused, and the healthy baby boy she bore grew up to be Tim, the 2007 Heisman Trophy winner (and himself a proselytising Christian).

CBS has been pilloried by women's groups, who say the grandest stage in American sports is not the place to tackle such a controversial issue. In a letter to CBS, the Women's Media Centre accused CBS of using "sports to divide rather than to unite".

Furthermore, critics say, the Tebow spot — sponsored by conservative Christian group Focus on the Family — would appear to violate CBS' stated policy of not allowing "advocacy" ads on its airwaves, a precedent set in 2004 when the same network rejected a Super Bowl ad by the United Church of Christ (UCC) that highlighted the church's welcoming stance towards homosexuals.

CBS called that ad too "controversial". (See the ad here.) The broadcaster has announced an easing of that policy, noting that the UCC ad would be allowed under the new guidelines. The announcement, though, came only after the uproar over the Tebow ad.

The choice to allow this particular ad is all the more curious when considering some of the ads CBS rejected this year.

Most notable is a spot by Mancrunch.com, a gay dating website based in Toronto. The ad shows two men watching the Super Bowl together. After their hands touch incidentally in a bowl of potato chips, the men start making out with each other. (See the ad here.)

In its rejection letter to Mancrunch, CBS states that the ad "is not within the Network's broadcast standards for Super Bowl Sunday". The humour in the ad may border on sophomoric, but its rejection does nothing to clear up exactly what "standards" CBS is referring to.

As Adweek's Tim Arnold points out: "It was CBS that approved and aired commercials in (the 2004) Super Bowl featuring a horny, talking monkey hitting on a (human) babe; Cedric the Entertainer getting a bikini wax; painted man tits; a farting Clydesdale; a kid watching a kilt-wearing dude cool his gonads; and a 12-year-old kid uttering a swear word in reaction to his dad's new car, not to mention an erectile dysfunction commercial."

Another ad — featuring an effeminate (and fictional) former gridiron player, "Lola", who strikes it rich after he starts an online lingerie company — was also disallowed this year on the grounds that it was potentially offensive to viewers. Godaddy.com, a company that sells domain names and has a reputation for racy Super Bowl ads, was stunned: "Of the five commercial concepts we submitted for approval this year, this NEVER would’ve been my pick for the one that would not be approved... We were absolutely blindsided!" GoDaddy CEO and Founder Bob Parsons said. (See the rejected ad and others here.)

Ultimately, executives at CBS are the ones calling the shots, and they can take (or reject) money from whomever they want.

But by picking and choosing what viewers get to see based on what appears to be some ideological platform, they have appointed themselves arbiters of appropriateness — and have justified charges of censorship.

The NFL has not shied away from important social issues this season. Many players wore pink boots early in the year to show support for breast cancer research, and broadcasters have enthusiastically promoted ways for viewers to donate to Haitian relief funds.

Abortion and homosexuality are considerably more controversial topics. But by offering its opinion — however implicitly — by maintaining a double standard on what it will broadcast, CBS has itself become part of the debate, and tarnished the innocence of the game.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Unfortunately for viewers in Singapore who want to see this year's batch of commercials when the Indianapolis Colts take on the New Orleans Saints early Monday morning (local time), Super Bowl ads are not carried on the simulcast that is seen in the 230 or so countries outside US borders. But they will inevitably show up online. Have a look at last year's ads here. And for a list of some of the most objectionable Super Bowl ads that have actually aired during the game over the years, look here.)

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IN BANGKOK
 
GOVERNMENT policies and regulations in Thailand still "do not take climate change into consideration at all" despite the clear risk to Bangkok, according to Dr Anond Snidvongs, one of the country's foremost experts on climate change modeling.
 
Most designs and plans for infrastructure and buildings, remain based on the premise that "everything is constant" he said at a panel discussion at the Foreign Correspondents Club of Thailand (FCCT) last Monday.  
 
Dr Anond, director of SEA START — a research unit dedicated to predicting the impact of climate change in south east Asia — pleaded for an open and wide debate and exchange of ideas on how to secure Bangkok against the imminent risks posed by the combined forces of sea level rise, land subsidence and extreme storms.
 
With him on the panel was Prof Cor Dijkgraaf, an expert in urban planning currently based in Rotterdam in the Netherlands — a country below sea level that survives only because of its extensive system of dikes.
 
Prof Dijkgraaf drew some interesting comparisons between the Netherlands and Bangkok. And he had some interesting old pictures as well — of parts of old Bangkok under water decades ago before the city’s drainage system was upgraded.
 
If Bangkok wanted to prevent similar scenes in the future, "you have to start thinking of this now," he said.
 
"You can do all the research, make all the calculations, but if there's no political will you can't get it done. You have to ask if you can afford not to take measures to avoid the cost of doing nothing in the coming years," said Prof Dijkgraaf.
 
Much of Bangkok is at sea level or about 1 metre above it, and the land is steadily subsiding in nearby coastal zones, and in parts of the city itself. At the same time the level of the sea is rising. In a worst case scenario within the next 40 years, vital installations and tens of thousands of homes and offices and factories will face major floods.
 
While listening to Dr Anond I recalled the fund-raising dinner for prachatai.com which I had attended in December 2009, where Governor of Bangkok MR Sukhumbhand Paribatra had spoken about the challenges of the future.
 
I went back to the recording and sure enough he had mentioned climate change and the threat to Bangkok.
 
"For Thailand the most worrying problem a the moment is rising sea level which will definitely accelerate the rate of coastal erosion," he said.
 
MR Sukhumbhand said Thailand has lost 113,000 rai (around 45,000 acres) of coastal land over the last 30 years. In the province of Samut Prakarn alone, a few miles south of Bangkok, land loss had been to the tune of 10,000 rai (around 4,000 acres).
 
I remembered travelling in a boat in the area with Dr Anond in 2007, purring along through water several metres deep where a road had once been, complete with the telephone poles sticking up out of the waves.

The waters of the Gulf of Thailand lapping at the telephone poles of Bang Khun Tien, which were on dry land only 20 years ago. This low-lying region is fighting a losing battle against the rising sea level, clearly seen in this photo taken in 2007.
PHOTO: Nirmal Ghosh

Disturbingly, MR Sukhumbhand continued to say: "By 2050... large parts of Bangkok will be under water. We need a combination of short term and longer term measures (for drainage and coastal defence), which of course require massive investment — which we have not even begun to do."
 
At the FCCT, Dr Anond made another interesting observation — that the rate of subsidence of part of the coast, both on the Gulf of Thailand and the Andaman sea, had increased after the December 2004 earthquake that had created the devastating Asian tsunami.
 
Up to 1.16 million buildings in Bangkok — 900,000 of them residential — were at risk from the worst case scenario of a coincidence of land subsidence, sea level rise and a storm surge, he said — and "ongoing efforts are not enough" to cope.
 
Proposed measures to deal with it include a large storage dam, a barrage across the mouth of the Chao Phraya river, storm surge barriers across the upper Gulf of Thailand, and diversion channels.
 
"Even in the scientific community we don't believe we have sufficient certainty to advise on what to do and what not to do," he acknowledged.
 
"But people in Bangkok need to start thinking of the future."

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IN TAIPEI
 
SCHOOL'S out in Taiwan as the countdown to the Year of The Tiger begins. But it’s exam season for pre-university students, who are about to take the exams that could decide if their futures will burn bright like a tiger.

Taiwan, which often claims to be more Chinese than anywhere else — despite voices advocating a separate Taiwan identity — loves exams. This is a legacy from the Mandarin system of imperial China, which selected scholars using nation exams.

A few days ago, the post office  announced it was hiring postmen, a job made considerably more sexy after a hit movie, Cape No 7, featured a postman as its romantic lead.

Now, to be a postman, one has to pass exams too, and some schools offer courses on how to be a postman, as I found out when I was handed a flyer the other day.

Exams are also de rigeur if you want to be a civil servant, a train captain or a telco engineer. Apparently, workers hired to record parking offences also need to pass a test — so that they know their ABCs when writing down the licence plate numbers.

Exams preoccupy the minds of so many in Taiwan that the broadsheets here actually publish the university entrance exam papers  days later, dissecting puzzles and trends alike.

They also issue a list of correct answers, saving parents and students the cost of buying those dreaded 10-Year Series.

This year, driftwood made the headlines after a Chinese Language exam paper asked students to write an essay titled, "Driftwood's Soliloquy".

Before you think, thank goodness the examiners didn't ask them to ruminate on being deadwood, here's food for thought: driftwood is actually a very topical issue.

Large amounts of driftwood and assorted debris were flushed down the mountains by the deadly Typhoon Morakot which hit Taiwan last August, causing damage.

And while some may see driftwood as rubbish, many artists love these logs, carving sculptures out of them. In Taitung, southern Taiwan, the authorities invited artists to turn driftwood into art pieces at an art festival last year.

Apart from driftwood, popular Shanghai-born writer Eileen Chang also made it as a topic in one exam paper, with students being tested on an excerpt from her short story, Red Rose White Rose. Alongside Chang, three of the "Simei" — or the Four Chinese classical beauties, Xishi, Wang Zhaojun and Yang Guifei — also appeared in a paper, in a poem which students were tested on. 

This is also the time of the year when parents write to the papers, expressing angst about the pressures of the school system and the over-emphasis on exams.

While there are many universities in Taiwan these days (more than 160 for a population of 23 million) — enough for everyone to get a place — the race is still on to see who can get into the top universities.

With the stakes so high, exams don't look like they are going to drift in importance any time soon.

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TOKYO

WANT to know what Japanese Interior Minister Kazuhiro Haraguchi had for breakfast despite a weight problem, or who he took a bath with?

No use searching the mainstream media or even the tabloid press.

Mr Haraguchi tells it all on Twitter, the social media network that is enjoying a boom in Japan.

Also described as a micro-blog service, Twitter allows participants to talk about what they are doing or what is on their minds in "tweets" that are limited to 140 characters in length.

"This left-over curry is really good," Mr Haraguchi wrote in a tweet at breakfast on Tuesday morning. "I'm having a double helping! My weight is 76.5 kg, according to the weighing machine. But I'm told it's broken. I want to believe so."

Last month, he waxed poignantly about getting into the bath with his young daughter.

He tweeted: "She said to me, 'Otosan ("Papa"), very soon we may resent having a bath together.' So I asked her timidly, 'May I?' She replied, 'OK. I will scrub your back for you.' In another 3 months' time, maybe we won't be doing this anymore."

Mr Haraguchi tweets about 20 to 25 times a day, much of it work-related, like who he meets or what he is about to do next. But he has also written about new policy ideas on his mind that have not yet been reported in the press.

Prime Minister Yukio Hatoyama has been on the Twitter bandwagon since New Year's Day. He does not upload his tweets himself at the computer or using a cell phone, but depends on his secretary to do so.

As to be expected, Mr Hatoyama's tweets are usually very tame. For security reasons, he can't even reveal where he is or where he is going next.

But even though Mr Hatoyama doesn't tweet often – just once or twice a day – he seems to get quite a bit of feedback from tweets addressed to him by ordinary Japanese.

On Jan 31, Mr Hatoyama tweeted: "It's already a month since I started on Twitter. I am delighted to read the comments you all send me. Of course, some of you send me brickbats too. But I will take note of all of them."

By a recent count, about 40 Japanese lawmakers from both the ruling and opposition, and from the national and local governments, are tweeting on a regular basis. That's not a big number certainly, considering that there are 722 lawmakers in both houses of parliament alone.

But those that do tweet are making a bit of a splash.

One of the most prolific tweeters is Mr Ichita Yamamoto, an Upper House member from the opposition Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) who tweets about 50 times a day on average.

Tweeting about a meeting he had with a Singapore diplomat on Tuesday, Mr Yamamoto wrote: "We had a 50-minute discussion. He can really talk! He has an extremely quick mind! But speaking in English really tires me out."

Mr Yamamoto also tweets regularly during meetings that he attends, giving a blow-by-blow account of what’s happening.

Once after such a meeting, reporters rushed up to him and said: "Mr Yamamoto, we already know what happened during the meeting from your tweets. All we need now is your personal comment!"

Many Japanese however seem to be put off by Twitter. The word "tweet" is translated as "tsubuyaki" in Japanese. It is not clear who did the translation but many people agree that it is an unfortunate choice of word.

"Tsubuyaki" means "murmur", as in saying something to oneself in a low voice.

Because of the slightly negative connotations of the word "tsubuyaki", many Japanese have a less than positive image of Twitter.

Last month, opposition leader Sadakazu Tanigaki of the LDP declared that he will never go on Twitter.

"It is not in my character to 'murmur'," he told reporters. "If I have something to say, I want to make my points clearly."

If Mr Tanigaki had bothered to test-drive Twitter, however, he would have discovered – just like the PM and other Japanese politicians – that what people have to say in their tweets is usually far from being a murmur.

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KUALA LUMPUR

LAST week, I received a bizarre text message. Not from anyone I know; just a salesman spelling out in great detail how I could get a credit card from one of the 13 banks that his company represents, and a loan of RM10,000 for cheap.

I deleted the text.

But that was not the end. The phone rang a couple of times after that, but I decided to ignore it. It's tiring.

He's not the only one trying to send thousands of ringgit my way.

Tele-marketers call incessantly, and wont take "no" for an answer. You can hardly walk a few steps in a mall before being accosted by a salesperson selling a credit card. Cheques for thousands of ringgit arrive in the post, begging to be cashed.

The hard sell of credit has become a bane of Malaysian life in the last few years, and the aggressive sales tactics are beginning to feel like harassment.

It seems to have worked, though. There are now about 10 million credit cards in circulation, a huge jump from below two million a decade ago, according to Bank Negara statistics.

The government has now decided to step in. A tax of RM50 (S$20.65) per card is being imposed from this year, it says, to promote prudent spending.

Perhaps so. But what it really needs to do, say consumer activists, is to make it harder to borrow.

This means raising the minimum required annual income from RM18,000 to RM36,000, and setting a tight cap on credit limits for credit cards.

It really should. Forcing banks to be responsible lenders is easier than cajoling people to be responsible borrowers.

I don't suppose, though, that this will stop the incessant phone calls, being ambushed at the malls, and junk mail from banks.

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IN KUALA LUMPUR

IT STARTED on a fateful 5-hour flight on Air India. I must be mad!

I have just watched three Indian movies in the last 48 hours -  twice for each movie! - and am now looking to buy more. This can’t be real.

For years and years I studiously avoided all Hindi movies and anything Bollywood. When I was working in Kuala Lumpur, a fever hit Malaysia in 1998 with Kuch Kuch Hota Hai (Something Happens), starring Shah Rukh Khan and Kajol. I avoided that one too, although that must’ve been the year when my wife and daughter got struck with the Bollywood virus.

Me? I couldn’t stand those weak plots about a poor guy falling in love with a rich girl (or vice versa), fights between the hero and villain where no one suffer bruises at the end. And urgh, those songs in the course of the movie - where the heroine would roll on the grass without messing up her dress and tresses, and the hero would wail a tune from some waterfall one minute and atop a mountain the next!

How could any moviegoer go through that! (I knew all these after getting glimpses of past Hindi movies that my parents used to watch. Yes, they are fans too. Sigh).

Give me Aliens, Terminator or even Sleepless in Seattle anytime, I often said.

But things have changed since 1998.

In the last few years, whenever a top Hindi movie played on TV, I would be told by my wife and daughter to not disturb them until Shah Rukh or Aishwarya Rai and friends had finished their last song and dance. And then last week, the government of India invited a group of Asean journalists to take part in a high-level forum, tour New Delhi, Agra and Mumbai, and arranged interviews with top business players.

I was put aboard Air India for the 5-hour Singapore-Delhi flight. There was an entertainment screen at every seat, but to my horror, the six channels only played Bollywood movies. Arghh, I said to myself.

Getting bored half an hour into the flight, I listened to my Walkman and read Matthew Reilly’s latest thriller. I just happened to switch to one channel and a movie was playing. But my eyes kept glancing at the movie which had English subtitles.

There was a sweet actress busy with some love affair with a short fat guy. I learnt later that her name was Deepika Padukone and his name was Saif Ali Khan. The movie was Love Aaj Kaal (Love These Days) - I learnt this from the movie guide in the airplane much later.

PHOTO: BOMBAY TALKIES

I must admit I have never heard of the duo or the movie.  You see, my Bollywood dictionary didn’t go beyond Shah Rukh Khan (SRK to his zillions of fans), Kajol, Aishwarya Rai, Amitabh Bachchan and Kuch Kuch Hota Hai. I didn’t even know how Kajol looked like and what Kuch Kuch was about.

Back to my flight - Thanks to the English subtitles, I suddenly stopped listening to my Walkman and reading the book, and started to follow the plot of the movie. It turned out that there were two separate stories in this Love Aaj Kaal movie.

At the end of 1.5 hours, I had become a fan of Deepika and Saif. I was to learn later that they are big names in Bollywood (though I still could not understand why the ugly Saif could be a star. Then again, his physique is like Charles Bronson’s, the anti-hero).

And, wow, Love Aaj Kaal is in fact a hit movie for 2009, with many nominations for top awards. I watched it twice on the plane (in between dinner and naps)!  Heck, I even like the dance routines. (Once you have watched this high-energy dance routine in Love Aaj Kaal - the hit song Twist - you will know what I mean.)

This is weird, how come Hindi movies suddenly got this pull on me?

During my trip to Mumbai, I bought Love Aaj Kaal and another hit movie, Om Shanti Om, starring SRK and Deepika. And back in Kuala Lumpur for a short holiday, I bought Slumdog Millionaire, a hit movie that I had avoided because it is, in my mind, another Bollywood movie. 

Indian journalists and officials that I met during that one week trip to India have been listening with bemusement at my own theory on why the country will be bigger than China on the global stage.

It goes like this: America the Superpower has shown the world its prowess in software (Windows, Apple, Google) which is backed by the huge commercial success of Hollywood movies.

In simple terms, America shows how great the country is every time you switched on your computer in the office and TV at home. At home, America dominates as most Western movies and shows come from the US of A, seen through American lenses.

The media also is dominated by America – CNN, Newsweek, International Herald Tribune, Wall Street Journal. The world is analysed from American perspective of the world, and the world largely accepts this.

And then America also has financial prowess. Before the 2008 global economic crisis, Wall Street banks were much loved from Lehman Brothers to Citibank and Bank of America.

Backing up all these? Benign American military power (though not so benign in the George W. Bush era).

So, I told those who would listen to me, India already has software power – just look at those Indian IT engineers all over the world. From those in Google, HP and those who are everywhere in other big technology companies, including those in Singapore.

Indians just need a hit apps (application software) or a hardware blockbuster to seal its technical greatness in this area. China has Lenovo.

So, okay. China, too, has many great IT engineers but they are not as seen widely in the global market - perhaps because the Indian ones speak English readily and thus are more employable. And India has another advantage compared to China because it has Bollywood!

China, too, has its own movie world, sure. China’s biggest movie star is Jackie Chan, known widely as being "from Hong Kong" – ie not quite China proper.

Zhang Zi Yi and Jet Li! Yes, but they don’t do dances like those Bollywood stars that somehow captivate audiences, including those in Southeast Asia (think of the Indian diaspora in Singapore, Malaysia, Thailand, and the millions of SRK fans among Malays in Indonesia, Malaysia, Brunei and Singapore).

India, of course, does not have the financial brand name of the Wall Street banks and investment houses. Neither is India’s military prowess near China’s. But from here, by careful nurturing or chaotic expansion, India could grow its "soft power" brands – IT engineers and Bollywood - in a crowded global marketplace.

Just like Singapore is known for its "efficiency" and an Asian financial powerhouse to the world.

Then again, maybe all these are the imaginings of someone who had watched too many Hindi movies in such a short span of time…

Enough said. Let me now go out and buy Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, 3 Idiots and Billu Barber. While I wait for Salman Khan’s Veer to play here. 

The actors in '3 Idiots'
PHOTO: JALAN DISTRIBUTORS

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IN DELHI

INDIA became a federal, democratic republic after its constitution came into effect on Jan 26, 1950.

Since then, the day has been celebrated every year with grand parades and cultural pageants in the national capital while parades and march pasts are also held in the state capitals to mark the day.

But it is the Delhi celebrations that etches a lasting memory in the mind of Indians. Witnessing the grand spectacle at least once was considered a must for Delhi residents. That was of course before the advent of the TV, which has brought the parade right into your drawing room.

The bitter winter cold is another excuse to remain at home.

But even then, the spectacle draws a huge crowd. People occupy every inch of space on the broad, tree-lined, lush manicured greens on either side of the majestic Rajpath, the central avenue, leading from Rashtrapati Bhavan, the presidential palace on Raisina Hills, to India Gate, the World War I memorial, 2.4 km straight down.

I don't think many of those who were there today would venture out next year. The fog — which is there every year — was exceptionally bad this time. It was so dense that visibility was reduced to a few meters. Driving with the hazards lights on and prayers on your lips must have been hell.

A lot of preparations go into the parade.

Construction of of the ceremonial platform from where the President takes the salute and the tiered wooden stands for the public all along Rajpath begins months before.

Then there are rehearsals and more rehearsals when roads are blocked to the curse of office-goers and even civilian air traffic is suspended for the fly-past rehearsal by the air force.

Just as India has changed unimaginably over the last 60 years — from a begging-bowl nation into a trillion-dollar economy — the character of the parade also has changed.

Obsolete weapons that the marching columns of soldiers carried in those days have given way to robust modern military muscle. The parade is used to exhibit various armaments in the country's arsenal, including missiles that can carry nuclear warheads.

While the weaponry is awe inspiring, equally impressive is the cultural pageants, including tableaux from various states show-casing their rich heritage.

The parade is not only meant to impress the nationals but also to send out a subtle message to the neighbourhood of the country's capabilities.

But it is not only the character of the Republic Day parade that has changed. The nation itself has changed and is changing and that means the people too.

Gone are the days when Indians, due to the abysmal poverty all around, felt an acute sense of guilt and inferiority complex.

A poll conducted by Reputation Institute, a US -based journal, recently was revealing. The poll was about how some countries perceived themselves in respect of "overall respect, trust, esteem, admiration and good feelings" and how others viewed them.

According to the poll, 82 per cent of Indians are basking in self-esteem. The corresponding figures for other countries were: China 79 per cent, US 77 per cent and Japan 57 per cent.

Writing in The Times of India, Swapan Dasgupta said: "The headlines that marks 60 years of the Indian Republic is a departure from the gloomy pessimism of earlier decades. Amid this high, it is easy to forget that not very long ago the haunting face of a hungry Indian child was used to guilt-trip the West into parting with loose change.

“My parents used to talk about the unspeakable horrors of the 1943 Bengal famine; I recall the grim shortages that marked the mid-1960s; my son, a product of the market economy, takes material comforts for granted."

He took words right out of  my mouth.

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THE key to having a good time visiting Cambodia's famous Angkor temples is to first find a good Tuk-tuk driver, because you need one to get around. Having a friendly and reliable driver who can speak good enough English will ensure you have a smooth and fuss-free vacation.

The other key, perhaps, is to do your bit for the underprivileged if you can.

Cambodia is now on the path to greater economic development, but poverty is still widespread — 40 per cent of the population still lived under the poverty line in 2005, according to UNICEF.

And there are plenty of opportunities even if you don't look too hard for them:

1. Attend a concert by Beatocello
On the way to Angkor from Siem Reap, you will probably spot signs outside a relatively modern but blocky building promoting a concert with "free entry" every Saturday. Well, it's true that the concert is free, but you're unlikely to leave without taking out your wallet.

Come in for a free concert! PHOTO: Lin Zhaowei

The hospital is the Jayavarman VII Hospital, one of five hospitals run by Swiss doctor Beat Richner that treats sick children 100 per cent free of charge.

Dr Richner worked in Phnom Penh as a young doctor in 1974, but was forced to leave the year after as the Khmer Rouge swept into the city. He returned to Cambodia in 1991 at the request of the Cambodian government to help set up the first of the hospitals for children.

Their operations have slowly expanded to include more advanced facilities and services. Between 1993 and 2008, over 8 million children have been treated, with 550,000 deaths prevented, according to Dr Richner.

To raise funds, however, Dr Richner picked up his cello again — he was a mini-celebrity back in Switzerland — and begun to perform for various audiences. The concert at Jayavarman is targetted at the one million tourists who visit Angkor every year.

Dr Beat Richner, also known as Beatocello, talks to the audience during the concert. PHOTO: Lin Zhaowei

In between classical pieces at the free concert at Jayavarman VII, he tells of the difficulties faced by his foundation in raising funds for the hospitals. He also shares his disbelief with certain international organisations that say his medical facilities are too advanced for a poor country like Cambodia — it seems very warped to me as well.

Dr Richner also peppers his serious speeches with humour, at one point asking that the young tourists donate their blood, the old ones their money, and the ones in between, both.

While it is too late to donate any blood after the concert, you can buy some merchandise to support the cause. There are T-shirts, documentary DVDs, CDs of Beatocello's recordings and books written by the doctor chronicling the trials and tribulations of setting up the hospitals. Prices range from US$5 to US$10.

You can find out more about Dr Richner and the hospitals by visiting his website.

The cello waits for another week. PHOTO: Lin Zhaowei

2. Go for a massage at Krousar Thmey
Tired after spending a day exploring the temples at Angkor? How about unwinding with a soothing massage on your way back to town?

The Krousar Thmey (meaning "New Family") is an NGO that provides support for abandoned and orphaned children, as well as the blind and deaf in Cambodia. It runs an exhibition centre, which offers a wealth of information about Tonle Sap lake's ecology and the people who live there. It is located close to the Jayavarman VII hospital and you will pass by on the way back from Angkor.

Here you will also find a massage parlour run by blind massage therapists. I decided to go for the one-hour full-body massage, which cost me just US$7. I needed that after three days of walking around Angkor! It was totally refreshing and I would have gone back again the next day if I had time.

You can find out more about Krousar Thmey at their website.

3. Enjoy a good meal with Friends
Located in Phnom Penh's bustling riverside district, near the National Museum, the restaurant serves up a nice selection of Cambodian and western dishes. It is run by the Mith Samlanh NGO, which trains and employs former street youth. Working at the restaurant prepares the youths for future employment.

The chicken with mango was delicious. PHOTO: Lin Zhaowei

It is a little more expensive than other places due to the small portions, but it won't cost you more than a meal at a typical restaurant in Singapore. And the food was great.

After a hearty meal, stroll over to Friends n' Stuff, also run by the same NGO. Located just a block away, the shop sells a collection of bags and accessories, most of them hand-made. I picked up a sling bag made from comic book scraps for US$13.

You can find more information on Mith Samlanh at their website.

There you have it.

The best thing is, you don't even have to go out of your way to do some good during your trip. But of course, if you are interested in doing a little more, like donating useful items such as stationery or rice to an orphanage, you can ask your tuk-tuk driver to facilitate.

Just a tip: One social worker at an orphanage near Siem Reap told me that corruption is still rampant, so it is always better to hand your donated items directly to the beneficiaries.

Happy travels.

Street kids outside the Killing Fields of Choeung Ek in Phnom Penh. PHOTO: Lin Zhaowei

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IN MELBOURNE

EVERYWHERE they go this year they will be a story. It is not a new story but a nice story. It is a story of two men who are both 29, wear the same Lotto outfits, bang jubilant fists in togetherness, sit sweaty in collective defeat like they did yesterday. Their names are Rohan Bopanna and Aisam Ul-Haq Qureshi. They are decent players, they are also Indian and Pakistani.

In tennis doubles, nationalities don't really matter. Of the 64 teams at the Australian Open, only 26 come from the same country, the rest are mixed and matched. A Swede and Australian, American and Slovak, French and Israeli. So why not these two?

But Bopanna and Qureshi are different. No one cares really if they fit well together, if they win, which is all a bit sad because that's their job, it's who they are. Tennis players. Trying to earn money and ranking points. An uncomplicated life.

But it is the symbolism of their union that attracts interest, that makes it complicated for them. Pakistan and India were once one nation, but are now riven with distrust for each other. So their pairing intrigues, for some it offends, for many it gives hope.

This line of interrogation is familiar to them, but they are nothing but polite and patient. Qureshi, years ago, was threatened with a ban by the Pakistani federation for playing with Israeli Amir Hadad, but refused to back down. He's heard these question for seven years, but says his answer stays the same: "Don't mix politics, culture, religion with sports".

On court they are thinking forehands, passing shots, volleys. That's it. "I never thought he's a Hindu or an Indian", says Qureshi. "When we started out we weren't thinking of politics", says Bopanna.

They are not out to make a statement, but by playing together they make a nice one. They stand before us as tennis-shoe-clad proof of what is possible. If people take it as a positive, says Qureshi, then that's just fine.

Both men have a lot in common. Qureshi speaks Urdu, Bopanna speaks Hindi, languages that are related. Tennis drew them together but also this familiarity of language, of food, of Bollywood films. Says Qureshi: "He's my best friend on the court and we also hang out together off it". Bopanna, the quieter one, nodded.

Tonight, defeated, they said they were headed for a Hindi movie. Two heroes out to see Three Idiots.

Rohit Brijnath is currently in Melbourne attending the Australian Open.

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IN TIMOR LESTE

WILL Timor Leste be freed of all foreign controls and stand proudly one day among the countries of Asean and the world?

Or will its economy go down once the United Nations, or even Australian assistance, pulls out?

Whatever social occasion I was in — except at the birthday party of Timor Leste's president — these same questions about Asia’s newest country were always put to me by a non-Timorese midway in a get-to-know-you conversation.

President Horta (left) and Prime Minister Gusmao in mutual bantering guests at the former's birthday party on Dec 26 at the presidential residence.
ST PHOTO: Larry Teo

I flew in to Dili a day after Christmas as one of eight Singaporeans or PRs invited to President José Ramos-Horta's party and I must say the first sight of Timor Leste’s international airport was depressing.

Though I had been to less developed places, they were for vacation. Presidente Nicolau Lobato Airport is in such rudimentary state, including having to pen down my particulars at the Immigration, that I believed Timor Leste would have little to interest a media person.

After all, the mechanics of building a nation from scratch could never be more exciting than the tales of independence struggles. And those tales stopped in 2002.

The repeated failures to set up a private interview with the president sealed the feeling that nothing substantive would get done here.

First, a presidential lunch specially arranged for the Singapore guests did not materialise as we missed the appointed location by more than 100 kilometres after being chauffeured eastward along the coast to the wrong venue — Mr Ramos-Horta's recreational villa.

That was due to some miscommunication. Thankfully, the breathtaking coastal and mountain views more than compensated for the roller-coaster journey that ended with some self-paid village fare for lunch instead of a sumptuous feast.

Reminder of Timor Leste's Portuguese origin, although this huge statue of Jesus Christ that looks over the Timorese in Areia Branca in Dili was ordered built by President Suharto after Indonesia seized the former Portuguese colony in 1975. It resembles the one in Rio de Janeiro. Areia Branca, a sheltered cove, is where the best-known beaches of Timor Leste can be found.

More incredible was that the president's villa had been demolished for some time. What greeted us were the stumps of some pillars on a virtually empty yard filled with charred remains.

Then while travelling back to Dili, we ran into the president, his family and his escort on a narrow desolate path next to a cliff.

Mr Ramos-Horta came down from his car to shake our hands and said earnestly he would meet us at dinner. That did not work out too, probably because he could not make it in time back to Dili.

The next morning I was wakened from a deep sleep to be told the president had sent for me and others for a media chat. Even though I washed up with boot-camp speed, I was still too slow for the president's men, who left impatiently without me.

For someone from Singapore, all this must seem unbelievable, for which statesman at home would be so immoderately casual towards the media to the point of being, yes, slipshod? They are wary of incurring bad press.

But soon it hit me that I had been too harsh on this place. After all, Timor Leste was still ruled as a remote backwater by Jakarta some ten years ago.

Since then it has been struggling to become a modern state, but without a sound governmental framework such as that we inherited from the British to start with.

My enlightenment came from the Chinese, Japanese and Singaporean businessmen who came here in hopes of grabbing a fortune home.

These are admirable souls, braving the political uncertainties of this former Portuguese colony and later subdued land of the Indonesians.

For now they have only inefficiency to contend with, not competitors, but they are ready to roll with the punches.

"This place would be superb for investment if it could be more generous and open like Singapore and China," said Singapore businessman Steven Ong with enthusiasm.

"You can't attract long-term investments if foreign businesses can only plan on a year-by-year basis. That point has yet to dawn on the officials here," added the machine dealer.

"Timor Leste ought to reduce its dependence on UN and Australian assistance and diversify their options. As things stand now, it would certainly sink if these slip away overnight," said a Japanese engineer surnamed Akatsuka.

Enterprising spirits like Mr Ong and Mr Akatsuka are vigorous reminders that under Timor Leste's languid surface lurk boundless opportunities that could make or break many a venture. And how its history would unfold forward depends on the government's policies and character.

The presence of the Chinese is another reminder. No Singaporean would not be struck by the Chinese embassy building with its grand facade and the numberless Chinese restaurants, karaoke and mini-marts that line some parts of downtown Dili.

As hotel manager Li Mengxi, from Fujian Province of China, put it: "This is a place which could go up or down, and the bolder among the Chinese would think it’s worth a bet."

At the president's party, the 60-year-old birthday "boy" cut a spunky and burly figure although just 22 months ago he was badly injured in an assassination attempt.

Under the rain-filled canvas, the president, who is of Portuguese descent and has sharp South European looks, was mobbed not just by dignitaries, but also apparently indigent Timorese of all ages.

You may call that populism, but the informality did not look faked and newcomers might guess, rightly or wrongly, that egalitarianism is ingrained in the Timorese culture.

To my mind the intermingling sincerely reflects the sociopolitical agenda of the president and his even-more-famous prime minister Xanana Gusmão.

That this half of an island nation where many could speak Bahasa Indonesia, Portuguese, English and the native tongue of Tetum with different levels of efficiency, is to be forged into a harmonious multi-ethnic, multi-lingual polity with few class differences.

Another turbo-charged South-east Asian economy in the making?

Or destined to be trapped in the slumbers of the South Pacific?

Or a Latin remnant with equal affections for the Pope and the likes of Che Guevara?

Timor Leste can be any or all.

Who will say this land of many faces is uninteresting, if prejudices are left behind at its uninspiring airport?

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