24 Oct 2014 - liberation day

14 months of hardcore studying and many moments of insanity later, the fellowship exam is finally over. It sounds strange, but I really hope that was the hardest academic exam I will have to complete in this lifetime.

The journey was a rocky one. I started out thinking that I could sit the exam in March/May, but in December my term allocations for the year were changed and that was no longer possible. I was upset and frustrated by this, but eventually came to terms with the fact that a few more months of study was probably beneficial anyway.

Though I had done random bits of work-related reading, the actual studying started in August 2013. Each phase of the study was difficult for its own reasons

- The first few months were tough because it felt like a sea of information which all merged into each other, trying to stick to a "timetable" was not easy
- The month of Dec/Jan were a particular challenge as I felt like the goalpost had been moved to Aug/Oct
- The next few months were spent trying to make sure all of the major topics were covered, a laborious and arduous process
- Leading up to the written, it was hard to know what topics to go over again vs. learning new obscure topics.. probably the most trying period for time management
- After the written keeping the motivation up to study for the clinicals was near impossible and I had to have a few weeks off for a mental break
- The last few weeks before the clinical exam were gruelling. mentally I was overwhelmed by the enormity of the situation and also with the prospect of having to do the exam again - I had an intense desire not to have to put my life on hold anymore, a pretty strong motivator for passing.

It definitely helped lots having a study buddy, both for study related reasons and for the mental support as we took turns going mad. It definitely did not help that I had nights 2 days before the written and 2 weeks before the clinicals - but that is the nature of our work.

Looking back, the single most challenging part of the exam was the last two months between the written and clinicals. Doing cases with different people and getting different feedback was incredibly tiring and I often felt devastated, as if there was no way I could see any light at the end of the tunnel.  I was told by various people that my performance was suboptimal in terms of diction, grammar, presentation style and body language. Almost everything I did was criticised at some point and that was very trying, especially so close to the exam. So many people said that the exam is a performance and that I was not good at the type of acting the exam required.

At the peak of my demoralised state, one consultant told me just to be who I am. I found that single comment gave me the strength to rise above all the other negative comments - I felt that someone out there was on the same page as me, that I just want to be the down-to-earth unpretentious person I am - screw the exam! So in the end that is what I did, and I got through.

I cannot describe the feeling of numbness as I was holding the fateful envelope. Many candidates walked away to find a quiet corner, but I just opened the envelope on the spot. My mind was completely blank as my eyes scanned the page for the fateful word - successful or unsuccessful. The weight of the moment didn't register till much much later, and at the time I felt intensely emotional with disappointment for my friends who were unsuccessful. At the celebration drinks, the examiners were dressed in their formal academic gear and lined up to shake our hands and congratulate us. That felt totally surreal as well - did I really just finish the fellowship exam?

The understanding of the exam also changes throughout the year of study. At first one is studying to learn the topics and answer the questions, and it seems exam focused. Then one realises that the topics are actually what we need to practise good medicine, so that the things you want to learn are the things you actually need. At the very end, when the exam is finished, you realise that this is just the foundation upon which you will build your practice for the rest of your career.

One of my favourite quotes by Winston Churchill:
Now this is not the end
It is not even the beginning of the end. 
But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning. 

A vegetarian degustation at Bentley

I had never been to the old Bentley but thought about it once for a birthday as it is one of few places to offer a vegetarian degustation. It has now moved to the Radisson Blu and occupies half of its foyer, a dark yet welcoming space with muted tones. The atmosphere is sophisticated - no noisy young ones here, strictly date material! The tasting menu is $150 for carnivores and $130 for vegetarians, $80 for matching wine. You know it's fancy-lah when the menu is written in combinations of the ingredients!

Cracker, cheesy stuff, melon slices

I was in the bathroom when the amuse bouche was brought out and my friends didn't catch what this was. The earthy cracker is topped by light foamy dollops of ??goat cheese and subtle slices of melon.

Fresh sourdough

We ate way too much of this bread! They even gave us refills.

Sugar snaps, zucchini, asparagus, pine nut

Pretty as a picture, this was a textural delight. The crunch of blanched then browned sugar snaps is accompanied by velvety soft zucchini slices and a crumble of nuts. Who knew clover could be tasty too?

Onion broth, Jerusalem artichoke, brillat savarin 

The base to this dish was a rich onion and mushroom reduction which packed a real punch. The brillat savarin cheese popped in the mouth to release a sensuous ooze of creaminess, offsetting the solid chunks of Jerusalem artichoke.

Globe artichoke, salsify, white asparagus, brown butter 

The very heart of globe artichokes is paired with pan fried white asparagus, another textural contrast of soft and crunch. The sweet-ish red sauce is further sweetened by a dollop of butter so brown it is caramel, one of my dining companions found this too sickly sweet. 

Cauliflower custard, mushroom, black garlic

This was the most visually stunning dish of the night. Immaculately presented, it consisted of meaty chunks of wild mushrooms sandwiched between a base of cauliflower custard and a crunchy mushroom disc. The whole thing is then decorated by dehydrated wisps of cauliflower, roast black garlic and salty mushroom bits like mushroom jerky. Every element of this dish worked so well together, it was by far my favourite savoury dish.

Roasted parsnip, orange, wattle

Parsnips are such hearty vegetables - here they are presented as caramelised roast parsnip batons amid a thick orange yoghurt sauce. The wattle is pretty but tastes bland.

Charred pumpkin, black rice, broad beans

This was bloody fancy pumpkin. Slivers no more than a couple of millimetres thick are roasted and then reconstructed to form a thousand-layer chunk of roast pumpkin sitting on top of pumpkin puree. The orange is offset by several elements of green - young tender broad beans, a green sauce and pea tendrils. Another well balanced dish.

White chocolate, apple sorbet, fennel

I wonder how they came up with the ingenious flavour combination for this dessert. Fennel is represented in a syrupy swirl, matched by a scoop of the freshest green apple sorbet, discs of softened green apple and intense blobs of white chocolate mousse. The flavours are so wonderfully refreshing that it feels like a garden party in your mouth.

Mandarin icecream, liquorice, coconut

This was a very different dessert course. Under the meringue topping is mandarin icecream, a coconut based cream, segments of dehydrated orange and little nuggets of licorice flavoured cake. There was some visual trickery - the bit which looked like mandarin was actually coconut and vice versa. Whereas the first dessert course tasted of spring, this was a very adult winter dish.


What a treat this degustation was. It was lovely to see the effort they had put into a vegetarian tasting menu that is varied and interesting, definitely no token mushroom risotto at Bentley! I thought all the elements of food were well done - beautiful presentation, pure wholesome flavours, textural contrast, and alchemy of palate. Would love to return for another special occasion.

Food highlights from peri exams

The last month has been just a gluttony of food for me. I think it's because my body and mind are going through such a gruelling ordeal, I feel the need for indulgence. The weeks leading up to the exam saw me walking the paths from my place to the harbour foreshore back and forth, usually clutching a coffee from 2 Birds in Annandale (the brightest, airiest, friendliest place to get coffee in Annandale) and a pocketful of flashcards. I would recite the contents of the cards while watching the happy dogs and fending funny looks from passerbys - I'm pretty sure those mothers pushed their prams away from me faster as I muttered and gestured to myself.

Catching up with friends has kept me sane too. One welcome surprise was the rediscovery of the Runcible Spoon which has some pretty good vegetarian options. Admittedly the service can be grumpy, and sitting outside when it's miserable and wintery is not the best, but I just adore this dish.

Wholesome fleshy field mushrooms sizzled in butter and herbs rest on a bed of lentils, topped with fried eggs, a dollop of labneh and deep fried crispy sage leaves. The flavours are simply wonderful together. I could eat it every week and never get sick of it.

Another dish from the Spoon. Black beans with pickles, chilli sauce, poached eggs and chilli corn bread. The black beans are pureed which is a bit odd, but lots of textures come from the pickles and warm runny eggs. The corn bread is quite interesting - crispy on the outside and crumbly on the inside, perfect for mopping it all up.

I am thankful that I have some good eating options within walking distance. I love In the Annex - the Umami coffee is smooth, the food is inventive with lots of vegetarian options, and recently they started stocking cronuts. What's not to love?

Pretty as a picture. Winter vegetable salad on a bed of lentils. 

Baked eggs with goats cheese, spicy soft chickpeas, chunks of sourdough and herbs. Words cannot describe how delicious this is.

Cronuts at the Annex - somehow nicer than at Brewtown because they are nicely presented and no grumpy waiters are around.

Dad's friend visited and we made these vegetarian siu mai with sticky rice, mushroom & carrot filling. Making the skins and wrapping them was super fun! They were tasty but boy they do look a bit ugly.

Three Williams is awesome but they have stopped serving narnies for breakfast which is sad. We each ate our own savoury dish then shared this decadent brioche french toast, the sweetness offset by a pool of natural yoghurt, fresh berries and crunchy caramelised pecans. It was as droolworthy as the photo.

I'm sure Rising Sunworkshop in Newtown isn't really a pop-up because they are still there, a few months after they were meant to close down! They keep changing their Monk ramen which is nice. This time around it had corn, kimchi paste and lots of fresh shallot. I miss the miso eggplant though.

 Oreo pie from the Pie Tin.

Circa is amazingly hipster, it doesn't feel like Parramatta at all. The whole menu is interesting and it was hard to pick but I'm glad I chose this dish of lemon & thyme baked ricotta, zaatar-coated egg, mushrooms and kale on a spicy eggplant puree base. The bunch of grilled cherry tomatoes was so adorable and sweet.

Now, is it any wonder I can't fit into my suit? 

Dream: end of the world via Tibetan treasures

The dream starts in a large park. I am standing in the depth of the night, the sky completely dark and illuminated only by shrill manmade lights. I don't instinctively know where I am, but looking around I feel like it's perhaps Southbank in Brisbane. It is a large green space with manmade paths weaving through, and people are everywhere as if it's new years.

But it's not new years, and I realise this is a end of the world party. If everyone knew that they were going to die, wouldn't they want to come here and have fun with their friends before they die?

At first I am alone but soon I see some people I know. I can't remember who they are now, but they are sitting on picnic blankets enjoying food, and they invite me to join them. I chat with them for a while then get up and walk around again. Though there must be thousands of people in the park, I manage to find a few friends to say goodbye to.

Then I see my high school friends and they are all in one group. I wonder momentarily where their partners and other friends must be (we haven't gone back in time because they all look as they do right now). They tell me about an exhibit in a museum of the lost treasures of Tibet. I am excited by this and decide that if the world was to end, I definitely want to see this.

So we start walking there, and along the way I am telling the group stories of the Dalai Lama's escape from Tibet and how he had stored some treasures in Sikkim prior to his actual going into exile. I am recounting stories of how they avoided the guards and soldiers by going over the high mountains, all the while worrying about exposure and hypothermia. As I am getting more animated, we enter a dark building where all the lights have been dimmed. We strain to see as we move forward in a narrow corridor, which barely fits two people at a time.

I look around me to see if I can recognise anything. There are shadows of display boxes in the distance, but it is so dark that I can't make out what's in them. I start to think that perhaps we have gotten to the exhibit too late and it has already been looted.

We emerge into a bright lecture theatre packed with throngs of people. I have lost my friends and can't see them anywhere. First I look for them all around, then I give up and just look for an empty spot. I finally find one in the middle of a row and squish through people to get there.

Just as I sit down the lights are dimmed. I look to my right and it's Andy, Charley, and Henry sitting in a row. Wait a minute, I think, if this is the apocalypse, they must be really good friends to be still sticking together?

The man on the lecture podium names himself as Nakashima. He is a short balding middle aged man with a slightly stooped posture. His voice is quiet and steely as he starts speaking about the end of the world. Emphatically, he tells us that we have all been inflicted with a disease that remains unnamed and unqualified. It is incorporated into our DNA and has been part of our genetic destiny since we were bonobos. No one knows what triggers it, and why we are all dying from it.

Lies! I want to shout. The Japanese are trying to take over the world and they are telling us these lies so we will give up and die. 

Then I wake up. 

Five pre-exam dreams

Dialysis during war
In this dream, we are at war. It's not clear where the war is, but it instinctively feels somewhere tropical. Everything is green and lush, and the air feels humid and sticky.

I am the commander of a unit, and we are all wearing camouflage gear. We run through the low lying bushes, intermittently meeting enemies and exchanging fire with them. It all seems like a game.

Then it is night and we are back at the army barracks. It is a simple building that looks like a warehouse with high ceilings, the dim lighting provided by several naked lightbulbs. Bunkbeds are lined up down one side, strewn with rough looking blankets.

B is there with a machine that she has propped up on her bed. I walk closer and realise it is a dialysis machine, though much smaller than ones usually in clinical use. She has a fistula on her left forearm, which she is cannulating with the buttonhole technique. She hooks herself up to the machine and it hums with a low frequency. It is the only noise among the dead quiet of the night.

Later she comes up to me and says - I think there is a problem with the dialysis machine, I don't feel well. We discuss this for a while, and I tell her that whilst ideally we should do a Kt/V to figure out her urea clearance we don't have access to those facilities.

Then it is the next day, and the two of us leave the army barracks. she is carrying her dialysis machine and I am carrying some sort of machete. We walk through the fields and I tell her to protect herself and the machine at all costs, but strangely we come across no-one.

We see a subway station and go down some steps. It is a subway station of the No. 9 subway line in Shanghai, and when we first enter it appears completely deserted. The wind travels through the underground gently, scattering small piles of dust and rubbish which have collected. We walk around looking for some sort of entrance to the tracks, wondering if a train would come. Then we realise that there are a number of ATMs around which are still on, their lights flickering intermittently. Then we see people dashing out from the darkness, standing in front of the ATMs for just a few seconds before disappearing back into the darkness.

There is an ominous feeling and my alertness is heightened. We stand next to one ATM waiting for the bank advertisements to change. Then a man comes out from the darkness and says - what are you looking for? these machines are the very last connection we have to the Internet.

Then I wake up.

Tourism in Tonga 
In this dream I am in the Tongan jungle. The foliage is dense and there is barely any light on the jungle floor. The giant tree roots are gnarled and twisted around my feet, tempting me to fall. The mud is thick and black, splattering carelessly onto my clothes. The air has an incredibly intense scent of decay and regrowth, and the whole place feels alive - as if I am inside a giant living being.

Pausing for a second, I can see all sorts of insects scattering around, and I become acutely aware of leeches sliding up my legs, crawling silently as they suck on my blood.

I am with two local men who are dressed in Steve Irwin khakis that look frankly ridiculous on their thick Melanesian frames. They are also wearing explorer hardhats which are comically lopsided on their large heads. Practically bursting out of their ill fitting uniforms, they are both drenched in sweat.

We are traversing a ravine when I slip and almost fall to the bottom. They rush to my aid and I stand up straight again, amused by how overwhelming the environment is, and struck by the feeling of utter isolation.

Thank you so much for coming, they say, clearly the footpath will be very helpful in this part of the track. I chat with them a little more and find out that we are mapping out the route for a walk that will go all the way around the island of Tonga. They tell me that the tourism industry has been failing due to all the tourists going to other pacific islands. They are hopeful that this new exotic challenging walk will bring lots of tourists in.

A walk here? I wonder, looking up at the foliage which is so dense that no trace of the sky is discernible.

Then I wake up.


My face! My face!
In this dream I am rinsing my mouth in the sink in my own bathroom at home. Small flecks of corn come out and I wonder, I must have eaten some corn and it got stuck in my teeth.

With the water running, I keep rinsing and the corn keeps coming. Suddenly they turn into small specks of meat that resemble mince. I am puzzled by this - I haven't eaten meat for months, how did this meat get into the sink?

As I keep rinsing, I wonder if something has happened to my brain and I am not able to perceive the feeling of having food remnants in my mouth - how can this much corn & meat come out and I have no idea where it's stuck?

The specks of meat start getting bigger, and soon they look like blobs of meat. They get bigger still until they look like those stirfry strips you buy at the supermarket.

Just what in the world is going on? I think. I look up at the mirror and realise with a start that my face is disintegrating and the strips of meat in the sink are my face. I try to grab the last strip, a good chunky one as it starts to gurgle down the drain.

My face! My face! I scream silently in the dream. Then I wake up.


A difficult intubation
In this dream, A and I are called urgently by a nurse to Blue ICU. We go into bed 35 and there is a man there who looks very unwell. K is at the top end holding a mask on his face, so we turn around and start getting drugs and equipment ready to intubate him.

Next thing we know, K has already started the intubation without equipment or drugs. With the laryngoscope in his mouth, the patient starts struggling like crazy, trying to punch her with both his arms. She manages to duck the punches in between looking in his mouth, and shouts out for a bougie. The man starts bucking up and down on the bed, trying to squirm away from her. The nurses hand K a coat hanger and she shoves that into his mouth. We watch silently, utterly horrified as she manages to somehow get the tube over the coathanger.

Intubated, the man stops struggling and the chaos seems to have abated. She is bagging him with zest and his colour improves. Then there is water coming out from his mouth, pouring down the side of his neck, over his chest and down onto the ground. The water is coming so fast that the puddle on the ground expands rapidly.

I start to think about the implications of this if the electronic equipment were shortcircuited - or worse, if we were all electrocuted.

What's happening? I shout to K. but she is so engrossed in the bag that she doesn't reply or look up.

My eyes follow the trail of water from the ground up and as it tracks across his body back into his mouth and the bag, I realise the bag is attached to a piece of garden hose. Following the hose away from the patient, I realise that it is attached to the cold water tap, and she is bagging him with tap water!

Then I wake up.




RPA shopping centre
This is a very brief dream where I leave the ICU and walk outside to the foyer. I am looking for a ward (6E2? I can't remember) but when I walk up the stairs RPA has turned into a shopping centre and all the wards have become hidden within shops. I give up looking for the ward and go back down to ICU which looks exactly the same.

Then someone asks me if I've organised the RMO dinner and I say I haven't even thought about it, but it should be easy since we are now in a shopping centre! I go back into the shops and start looking around for restaurants. I come across quite a few but they are all closed.

I feel annoyed and think, what sort of shopping centre is this, nowhere to eat! Then I wake up.

Dream: a few rounds of death

The dream begins in a dark warehouse. I am alone, and instantly aware that I am being pursued. Large crates are stacked all around me, and I am crouching next to some sort of bobcat. Many pieces of machinery are scatteredly haphazardly around, like someone abandoned them in a hurry.

I hear footsteps approaching and silently begin to move. I have no idea where I'm moving to but my feet seem to be taking me away from the footsteps. I stop and wait again. Now there are two sets of footsteps and they are converging upon me. It is so dark that my sense of hearing is heightened.

As they come within a few metres of me I turn around and see that there is a set of shutter doors which swing open like in those old Western movie saloons. I duck quickly under the doors and hide inside the small alcove which is barely larger than a cupboard. As I look out through the shutters, I realise a lightbulb is casting its light directly over the space just outside the doors. I know then that I will see my attackers just in the moment before they find me.

They come closer in silence. As I predicted, they pause in the dim pool of light just outside the shutters. I know they have found me and time seems to stop while they are drawing their guns, in ridiculously slow motion.

The one on the right looks Italian, tall with dark hair and a receding hairline, wearing a black leather jacket. The one on the left looks Southeast Asian, short and stout with a beer gut. As they raise their guns and point directly at me, I think for a moment that I am going to die. I didn't even realise my gun is loaded and in my hands, but at that moment I am acutely aware of the cold steeliness of the weapon. I raise the gun and shoot them both, first the Italian guy in the left chest and then the Asian guy in the left shoulder. The Italian guy falls to his knees and collapses silently in a pool of blood. The Asian guy remains standing, and I try to shoot him again but I have no more bullets in my gun. His weapon drops with a conspicuous clunk to the ground and he remains standing for a while, bleeding profusely, then slowly slumps to the ground.

The whole thing must have not taken more than a minute, but I feel like hours have passed. My heart is racing and my hands are covered in cold sweat. I take out my phone and ring 000. The next moment, ambulance officers have arrived and I am still standing exactly where I was. They check the Italian guy and he is dead. They check the Asian guy and they think he's dead too, but I could see that he's still breathing and rush out of the alcove to tell them he's not dead. When I get closer I see that the bullet must have clipped his shoulder and actually hit his face, and his entire left head is swollen. He has a good carotid pulse and chest rise seems equal, so I tell them to take him quickly to the hospital because he has probably had penetrating head trauma and needs urgent surgery.

Then I am on a ship. It feels like a military warship, though I don't really know why. There certainly aren't any oldies or recreational activities around, and the atmosphere is absolutely sombre. It is still in the depth of the night, and dark stormclouds twirl close to the horizon, threatening us just above our heads. I am all alone on this ship and cannot hear or see anyone.

The sea is angry and the turbulent waves rock the large ship violently. I am struggling to hold onto the railing as I try to find someone so I can find out where I am or what has happened. As I walk forward, the wind starts howling and it feels like knives are slashing my face. Up ahead I can see lights at the front of the ship, and keep struggling to move towards the lights.

It starts to rain, and the droplets seem to be vicious too, falling in my eyes and making the world blurry. As I get closer to the light, I realise there is a huge crowd of people around someone on a makeshift bed.

We must save the general! One man at the head of the bed is shouting.

I stand a few metres away and watch what is going on. There are two men in white coats at the head of the bed who seem to be the doctors, and then there are a crowd of other people at the foot of the bed milling around. I can't tell if any of them are doing anything helpful.

I get closer and realise the man on the bed is the Asian man I shot in the warehouse. His face is grotesquely distorted, and a surgeon is trying to pick outs of fractured skull. Blood has soaked through all the bedding and is dripping onto the ground. I realise with a start that he is not anaesthetised and his eyes are bulging practically out of their sockets. He has an arterial line and the monitor says his BP is 50/30.

Everyone stop! I shout and everyone stops momentarily, looking startled. What's going on? I demand.

The surgeon explains that this is the commander in chief of the army, who has been shot by enemies during a rogue attack. They had done an exploratory craniotomy because his head was so swollen they thought they had to decompress it for intracranial hypertension, but never actually found the bullet. They lost the anaesthetist during the war and thought he was so hypotensive he probably wouldn't remember the surgery anyway.

As he is explaining this the BP starts to slide, and I ask one of the nurses to fetch more blood. She comes back with a bag containing 2 units of packed cells and 2 units of FFP and says that this is all there is left of the blood bank. We give it to him, but the BP remains terrible. As the wind howls I think - this man has actually not died from my bullet but from poor medical management?

The surgeon keeps prying at the swollen brain tissue, trying to escape from the small hole like a mushroom. The monitor makes ominous lower and lower pitch sounds as the BP falls to near zero. 

Then I wake up

Dream: Shinazu kintawa

This was a very strange dream indeed and some parts are missing.

I am in a department store - difficult to tell where I am exactly as department stores all around the world are bright, clean and nice smelling. I am wandering around in the cosmetics section and thinking about why I'm there. There are several TV screens around advertising various things. I spy an ad for a perfume which hangs on my mind.

Then I am in a huge crowd of people going towards somewhere, the crush feels like Japan. It seems to be the office rush - everyone is in suits carrying briefcases and umbrellas. I'm carried along with the wave until I realise that I am very close to my own apartment building.

There is a sense of foreboding as I approach my building, the crowd still shuffling around me. I realise that a man in a well-cut suit in front of me is carrying a carry-bag from the department store where I was just now. He takes an expensive looking bottle of perfume out of the bag and looks at it. I am standing next to the mailboxes and watching him intently.

Suddenly a policeman comes up next to me and says quietly, we have to hurry, there isn't much time left. I look at him and realise that I am some sort of undercover police person.

The man with the perfume opens the door to my building and I suddenly realise shinazu kintawa is the name of the perfume I saw advertised in the store - and he is going to use it to poison the world by releasing it into the ventilation system of my building. The policeman tells me that the entire world will enter a coma and there will be no going back from this mass destruction.

Who thought there could be a perfume of mass destruction? I think.

We run into the stairwell and all goes black.

The next scene, I am sitting on a plane. I feel relieved that the world has not been terminated, then a sense of dread asI realise that the policeman is no longer with me. Instead I'm with my friends C & S who are chattering away as if nothing has happened (of course.. they don't realise anything has happened).

My heart is heavy as we land, and I'm wondering where the policeman is. We are supposed to be in Bali, but the men who come to move our luggage are heavyset Melanesians and I wonder if we have gone to the wrong country. We look around for our bags and mine is missing - a red duffle bag that I don't have in real life.

Finally all the other bags are collected and there is a single red duffle left which resembles my bag. The airport staff tell us that someone must have picked up my bag by mistake, so I look at the tag to find out who that might be, and it says CW - my boss' name! We find out from immigration that he entered the country saying he will be staying at the Intercontinental.

So we set off along the road which hugs the seashore to go to the Intercontinental. As I look around I say to C&S - this is definitely not Bali! There are hardly any people around, and Denpasar airport is not right next to the sea. The roads in Bali are not nearly so potholed, and none of these people look remotely Indonesian.

They pay no attention to me and keep chattering. In the distance we see some large buildings and go towards them. Then my friend S is tired and has sore feet, and starts complaining.. are we there yet? are we there yet?

Then I wake up.

Post Script - Google translate says shinazu kintawa = it was gold not die.