The enduring appeal of 'Agony Aunts'

Agony aunts are thriving even in this Internet age as proven by Dear Abby, a syndicated column which appears in 1,400 newspapers and gets letters worldwide, from Malaysia to Kosovo.

A 12-year-old girl wrote to an agony aunt, saying that she went into a Hunger Games chatroom on her iPod Touch and encountered three people who asked her for sex. They also wanted semi-nude pictures of her.
“I got so scared I couldn’t sleep,” she said.
That was just a sampling of heartfelt letters found recently in Dear Abby, an advice column which began five decades ago in Iowa, United States.
The agony aunt is Jeanne Phillips, who took over the job in 1987 from her mother who started the column under the name Abigail Van Buren.
In these days where help is just a tap away on the keyboard or touch screen, agony aunts (or uncles) have not gone out of style.
“While advice on the Internet may be only one click away, not all of it is good or correct information,” said Phillips in an e-mail interview.
Another “selling point” of advice columnists as pointed out by Phillips: they offer anonymity, which is something you won’t get if you approach a school counsellor, for instance. This probably explains why they have survived since 1691 when the advice column was born.
In an article on “A brief history of agony aunts” in The Guardian about three years ago, the writer reviewed a book by Tanith Carey titled Never Kiss A Man In A Canoe: Words Of Wisdom From The Golden Age Of Agony Aunts.
The writer discovered that a 32-year-old man in 1691 was troubled about an affair he was having. With no one to turn to, he started what has become known as the first advice column.
Such columns, like Dear Abby, have evolved through the years, said Phillips.
“Society has changed. Readers are more open about their problems than they were when Dear Abby began,” Phillips said.
“But the core of the problem, which is interpersonal relations, has not changed. The questions involve how people interact with each other, whether it is in social situations, in the home and family, the school or the workplace.”
Today’s women, she said, form a greater part of the workforce and this has taken its toll on the family.
“Also there is the phenomenon of stay-at-home dads, which is fairly new. Some of them feel isolated and not accepted.”
There are also many queries from people who complain about their significant other who still does not want to commit to a marriage despite them having kids together.
“There’s a lot of that these days,” she said.
Dear Abby gets about 10,000 letters and e-mails every week, mostly from people between the ages of 18 and 49. About 30% of them are guys.
“Seeing to it that every question is read is challenging. That’s why I have a staff of trained people to help me make sure that people in crisis get a prompt reply.”
When she gets letters from readers who are suicidal, she said she would pick up the phone and call them.
“I’ll offer to listen, talk to their doctor for them or steer them to a community mental health clinic or suicide hotline.”
Dear Abby, as she points out, is never boring.Its website reveals a gamut of everyday problems. One woman said she had been seeing a guy who always insists on going Dutch or never offers to pay during their dates.
Abby’s advice? “Are you getting what you’re paying for, and is it enough for you? If the answer is no, then scratch him.”
Nothing seems too trivial for an advice columnist. There was a letter from an office worker complaining about a colleague who wears flip-flops every day and “the sound of her walking is extremely annoying, to the point where I get a headache.”
The advice given was entertaining: “If the boss says her footwear is fine, then you’re out of luck. Wear earplugs, use aspirin as directed.”
In another case, one wedding guest, who was trying to buy a gift for the soon-to-be married couple, was upset to find out that they had listed pricey items for their cats in their online wedding registry.
Sometimes, the readers themselves send in their advice. Dear Abby published a letter on Aug 21 from a 58-year-old man for women who often lament about finding the right guy.
“We’re right here every day, working in the same building, going to the same functions, eating at the same diners,” he wrote.
“You want to find a guy in your age range? Step back, be honest and really look at yourself. How do you act, dress, talk? Would you date you? Do you measure up to the standards you have set for the right guy?”
“Take the time to see who he is, what he enjoys and remember, he’s not going to change, and if he did, he wouldn’t be what you wanted anyway.”
Phillips, on her part, said she thoroughly enjoyed her aunt agony duties.
“My work is also my hobby. It’s really not ‘work’ if you enjoy what you’re doing and I happen to love it.”
“I never tire of being an ‘agony aunt’. What I do is part of who I am, and always have been. I like people and I’m interested in them.”
Where does an agony aunt go to when she needs a shoulder to cry on?
“When I need advice or consolation, I go to my husband for affection, the benefit of his experience (and he’s had plenty of it), as well as his unstinting support. I’m a very lucky woman. I consider him to be my gift from God.”
She believes that the popularity of Dear Abby is due to the fact that she does not “sermonise”.
“I answer the questions as clearly, concisely and briefly as I can. It is both a responsibility and an honour and it is humbling.”
She said her advice had been used as the basis of sermons in churches and by professors of sociology and philosophy for lectures.
“People pour their hearts out to me in an endless stream of headaches, heartaches and confessions. They do it because they trust me and know I won’t judge or belittle them, and that I’ll do my best to give them resources to find help.”

Call of the kitchen

New York’s latest über fancy restaurant is wowing the fine-dining crowd, thanks to a Taiping boy who is cooking up a storm with his brand of Chinese cuisine.
PETER Parker has his Spider-Man costume while Tony Stark becomes Iron Man, thanks to his “power suit”.
As for Ho Chee Boon, all he needs is a wok to transform himself.
“I know little about investments. I don’t know how to chat up a girl. But when I have a wok in my hands, I become a confident man.
“It doesn’t matter where I work, if I have a wok with me, I know that I can kowtim what I’m supposed to do,” said the 39-year-old Ho, who is the executive chef of Hakkasan in the United States.
The New York Times has billed Hakkasan as “the world’s only luxury Chinese restaurant chain” with branches in London, Miami, Mumbai, Abu Dhabi and Dubai.
On April 3, it opened its doors near Times Square in New York City, where Ho is now based.
Ho, who has clocked 24 years in the business including stints in Singapore, Brunei, Hong Kong, Taiwan, Britain, Russia and Thailand, is the man behind the meticulously crafted menu at Hakkasan.
There is the black truffle roasted duck which has emerged as one of the signature dishes despite its US$88 (RM267) tag.
Other best-sellers include the grilled Chilean seabass with Chinese honey (US$48/RM146) and stir-fry lobster with mushrooms in XO sauce (US$59/RM179).
The seven most expensive items on the menu are known as the “supreme special dishes” where prices range from US$78/RM237 (stir-fried bird’s nest with lobster and scrambled egg white) to US$888 (RM2,695) for the braised Japanese abalone with black truffle.
There are plenty of takers, apparently. Take, for example, the Peking duck with Kaluga caviar which is priced at US$345 (RM1,047).
“We get eight to 10 orders for it every day. In fact, we have to control the number of orders for the Peking duck as we want to ensure quality in our delivery,” Ho said.
There are other more plebeian offerings, though, such as the seafood fried rice (US$18/RM55), Hakka noodles with mushrooms and Chinese chive (US$15/RM45), and sweet and sour pork tenderloin with pomegranate (US$24/RM73).
Ho, who heads a kitchen crew of 70, said business has been good at Hakkasan New York, which can seat about 200 people.
“It’s hard to get in without making reservations especially during weekends,” he said.
Even celebrities have taken note of Hakkasan New York. Denzel Washington, Kevin Bacon and Dakota Fanning are among those who have already been there.
Ho isn’t just taking care of the New York outpost. As the corporate development chef, he is helping to set up branches in San Francisco, Las Vegas and Los Angeles. His tasks, besides “flying here and there to recruit chefs”, include training the staff and developing the menu.
“Every city has its own uniqueness and preferences. Here in New York, diners are big on seafood. They like their lobsters,” he said.
This, he said, was different from places such as Mumbai where more vegetarian dishes are offered.
“But overall, people want healthy food. We use little oil in our cooking. MSG is unheard of,” he said. Canned food is almost a no-no.
Ho is the proverbial product of the school of hard knocks. He grew up poor in Taiping, Perak, where his late father was a restaurant worker and his mother, now 76, was a vegetable seller. There were 10 mouths to feed and Ho, as the No. 9 kid, knew from young that he had to earn his keep.
“I would go to restaurants or roadside stalls, asking for part-time work washing dishes,” he recalled.
His love for the kitchen could perhaps be attributed to his mother, whom he used to watch as she cooked for the family.
“Her dishes were always delicious. The aroma was irresistible. Or perhaps I was always a hungry boy back then,” he laughed.
Despite doing well in his studies, he quit school to find work. He ventured to Kuala Lumpur, taking up odd jobs at restaurants and at 17, he went off to Singapore.
“I would always look for jobs at top restaurants wherever I went,” he said. “I took time to learn about Chinese herbs as well.”
Prior to his arrival in New York, Ho had been the executive chef at Breeze in Lebua State Tower, Bangkok. He was previously the head chef at Turandot, Moscow, and also the sous chef at Hakkasan Hanway Place in London.
Despite the pressure-cooker environment, Ho said: “I am happy being in a kitchen. Yes, it can get very busy and intense and we would holler at one another. I’m not that foul-mouthed, but we are a loud bunch. It’s just all in a day’s work,” he laughed.
Despite his globetrotting job, Ho comes home to Malaysia frequently to visit his family.
“I was back about two or three times last year,” he said. “Whenever I am home, I like to go for the street food. A good plate of char kuey teow is a must,” he said.
But for someone who can dish out elaborate Cantonese cuisine, he is surprisingly simple about his favourite food.
“I like anything that’s good to eat!” If he is cooking for himself, a bowl of Korean instant noodles will do.
His life has always been consumed by work. His days usually end after midnight and by 10am the next day, he is back at work. Ho, who is single, has bigger things in mind these days. During his three-year stint from 2003 at Hakkasan Hanway Place, the restaurant was awarded a Michelin star. His target now is to earn a two-star ranking for Hakkasan New York.
“The best part about being a chef is when people acknowledge you for the good food. When my food is appreciated, I feel happy.”

The best of both worlds

Up-and-coming model making waves in Indonesia and Malaysia.

THERE were two friendly “neighbours” who would sometimes get in each other’s hair just like anyone who lived next door to one another.

They would get territorial, squabbling over stuff like kain batik, songs and dances.

This is a story about a pretty woman who might some day come between them.

Meet Raline Shah, 26, who is making waves in the modelling scene in Indonesia and Malaysia.

The uber chic magazine Glam recently gave her a 15-page spread, gushing that she was the hottest model from Jakarta.

You’re probably wondering how Jakarta-born Raline could possibly be the centre of a tug-of-war between two neighbours in the future.

Well, that’s because she has Malaysian blood running through her veins. “My mother is half-Singaporean Chinese, half-Malaysian Malay,” she explained in flawless English during an interview in Bangsar, Kuala Lumpur.

She spent almost half her life in Malaysia, too, where she came to study at the age of 13.

“I grew up in Malaysia. My mum decided to send my brother and me for high school and A-Levels (in Kolej Tuanku Ja’afar, a British-style boarding school in Negri Sembilan) here,” she said.

Back then, Raline spent much of her time with her grandparents in Johor.

“I had a lot of good memories with them. My late grandfather used to drive me from Negri Sembilan to Johor every monthly break,” she recounted. In fact, her grandmother still lives in Johor.

The 1.72m beauty gained public attention when she took part in the Miss Indonesia Universe pageant (known there as Puteri Indonesia) three years ago. Though she did not emerge the winner, Raline clinched subsidiary titles such as Puteri Indonesia Lingkungan (Environment) and Puteri Favorit (People’s Choice) when she broke the record for the number of SMS votes in the history of the pageant. She was the overwhelming favourite, earning 78% of the votes.

It was in Singapore, however, that she started modelling part-time. She was studying at the National University of Singapore, where she got a degree in political science, and new media and communications.

Apart from magazine spreads in Indonesia and appearing for a range of telecommunications, banking and beauty products, Raline is also currently the face for Nivea in Indonesia and Skinz in Malaysia.

“I would like to do more work in Malaysia,” she said. “Half of my family is here.”

However, she divulged little about her family background as she doesn’t want to be accused of riding on the name of her successful businessman father.

Sheng Saw, the make-up artist who has worked with almost all the top names and leading women in Malaysia, only has good things to say about Raline.

“She was very charming. Always had a big smile on her face. And easy to work with. She was such a sweetie, advising me about good food. We chatted and makan (eat) all the time during the shoot,” said Sheng, who collaborated with Raline for the Skinz and Glam shoot.

Sheng, who started his career in London and has been in the business for over a decade, believes that Raline has the talent and a very bright future.

“Her appearance is versatile and changeable. I can see the potential in her as a model, or if she gets into acting,” he said.

In fact, Raline will start shooting for a movie in Indonesia next January. This will mark her debut on the silver screen.

There had been dozens of movie offers which came her way previously but “nothing caught my eye until now. I want to do something that is me.”

She loves the performing arts, confessing also that “it has been paying my bills.”

During her college days, she was involved in every theatre production. “I have always been in touch with my creative side,” she added.

She is also dipping her hands into business, dabbling in pearl trading and helping her father in real estate development.

Other plans include opening a beauty salon and a cooking school. She likes to cook and is taking up part-time training in a culinary school in Jakarta. She has also completed one season of a cooking show in Indonesia.

Having a “public face”, Raline said, could be a boost to business in the republic.

“Indonesians are very ‘looks-oriented’. If you are famous, people want to be involved with your business especially if you have a good track record.”

Her dream, eventually, is to open a school that teaches living skills to youngsters.

“I’ve been lucky as I have a privileged upbringing. My parents taught me that the more you have, the more you should give to others,” she said. Her homemaker mother is the president of a school for mentally and physically challenged kids.

Indonesia’s huge share of national tragedies has had a bearing on her, too.

“I’m quite spiritual. To me, these are reminders for us to do good things.”

But enough of serious business. Who is she dating?

Once, there was talk about her and a member of a royal family. These days, she is linked with a young Malaysian tycoon.

Raline’s response? A dignified silence.

There was a public assumption, she said, that women in modelling or high-profile jobs are high-maintenance.

“I’m not here to comprehend the male psyche and their ideas about women. My line of work requires me to be high-maintenance. But I’m very easy-going in my daily life. Just T-shirts and flats will do for me,” she quipped.

Modelling remains a part-time job for now and she travels to Malaysia every other month.

If she hits pay dirt, two countries may want to lay claim on her and get into another spat yet again. When that happens, perhaps there is only one thing to say to her: Give us some love, Raline!

Community spirit among Sarawakians

Sarawak’s ethnic diversity is well-known. But to actually see the community spirit among the people regardless of race and religion is an experience that touches the hearts of even staunch politicians.
IPOH Barat MP M. Kulasegaran was in typical good humour during an early morning chat at his legal office in Ipoh recently.
“You know, I didn’t see any thambi (“brother” in Tamil) around,” he quipped, referring to Miri and Bintulu where he spent one week campaigning during the Sarawak elections in April.
“There were no Indian restaurants there. No tosai! In fact, I didn’t use my mother tongue during my time there,” he said.
Small wonder, really. There may not be many Indians but there are about 27 ethnic groups among Sarawak’s estimated 2.4 million people. Of that, the Ibans constitute 30% of the state’s population.
Skin colour aside, Kulasegaran found it heartwarming that the people of Sarawak could accept one another, even strangers, so easily.
“There is a much larger scope of inter-racial relationships in Sarawak. It is growing and glowing there. The indigenous people are so much more adaptable to each other.”
Almost all road signages are written both in Bahasa Malaysia and Chinese, he said, citing an example.
“And the people were friendly and warm. Everywhere I went, someone would just come up to me and ask: Ini hari ada ceramah? Siapa mari? (Any speeches today? Who’s coming?)” he recalled.
While he was there, Kulasegaran said he spoke to the people usually in Bahasa Malaysia or English. In fact, he said that English remained the preferred language in Sarawak courts and the state assembly.
Miri, he said, was much more developed than he had thought.
“It is a well-developed urban place. Everything is accessible. There is Internet access everywhere, wi-fi at most places.”
He sensed a strong Christian presence as well.
“There are churches everywhere; certainly more than Ipoh,” he said.
Sarawak has the highest number of Christians in the country (about 853,000 or 42%); Iban Christians numbered about 408,000 based on the 2000 Population and Housing Census.
Kulasegaran noted, too, that the local coffeeshops employed indigenous people as their workers.
“Pork is available in most shops and also sold at wet markets. People would walk past it, just like that.”
Despite a common perception that Peninsular Malaysia is more developed and progressive, Kulasegaran said it was ironic that Sarawak exhibited greater openness where “things are more relaxed.”
“There seems to be less taboo on matters like pork or liquor consumption,” he noted.
Nik Nazmi Nik Ahmad, the Seri Setia (Selangor) assemblyman, shared similar observations, saying:
“Some of my Malay friends from Peninsular Malaysia had qualms about eating food prepared by non-Muslims despite it being halal dishes. In Sarawak, however, the local Muslims found that surprising as they have had few problems with that all their lives!
“Even the very religious Muslims in Sarawak were not fussy about how their food was prepared as long as it was halal,” said Nik Nazmi, who spent two weeks campaigning in Nangka, Sibu.
He also noted that Malay and Chinese stalls co-exist next to each other in places such as food courts. On the other hand, he said he knew of non-Muslims in Peninsular Malaysia who would take extra precautions such as buying new pots and making sure the ingredients were halal if they were cooking for Muslim friends.
Nik Nazmi, who was the youngest candidate to win in the 2008 general election at the age of 26, also felt that Sarawakians were a friendly and earnest lot.
“There, people mingle easily with each other. I’ve heard this about them but it’s really remarkable to see the ease in which they mix with Malays, Ibans, Melanaus, Chinese or any race. For someone from Peninsular Malaysia, it’s really amazing to see that.”
“Also, the lifestyle is far more relaxed. It is so easy to make friends there. We like to take pride that Malaysians are friendly but being a PJ boy all my life, you don’t notice it so much.”
In fact, he found the trip to Sarawak so enthralling that what was supposed to be a five-day visit stretched to a fortnight.
“People in the peninsula – myself included – tend to always regard the peninsula as Malaysia and forget about Sabah and Sarawak. We have many things that we can learn from the Sabahans and Sarawakians.”
Perak state executive councillor Datuk Dr Mah Hang Soon, a Foochow boy who grew up in Sitiawan, found that he could fit right in during his visit to Sibu, where the clan dominates.
The Foochows, he explained, are known to be very hard-working, thrifty and a close-knit community.
“Outsiders may find it hard to break into their business circle,” he said, laughing.
Despite his short stay there, Dr Mah said the trip brought back memories of two decades ago.
“The people sitting around at eating places reminded me of those old days when life was simpler. There were not so many taboos then. These days, people tend to be so particular about so many things,” he said.
Racial sentiment was much less in Sarawak, he said, adding that their spirit of “togetherness” seemed to come so naturally.
Dr Mah recalled the times when he attended chapel during his school days in SMK ACS, Sitiawan, although he was not a Christian.
“I can sing many hymms,” said Dr Mah, who gave up a 10-year career as Perak’s leading cardiologist to become a full-time politician in 2009.
(One estimate put the number of Foochows in Sarawak at 120,000 of which about half are Christians.)
Referring to the Aug 4 raid by Selangor Islamic Religious Department on a church over a multi-racial dinner, Dr Mah said he believed that such raids would not happen in Sarawak.
(As someone tweeted that day: “Come to Sarawak. Multi racial dinner happens everywhere, everyday.”)
“These kind of raids were unheard of in the past,” he said.
However, Dr Mah remained optimistic about the future, citing Chenderiang, Perak, in which he is the assemblyman. There are about 20,000 voters there, of which 20% are orang asli, while the Chinese and Malays each formed about one-third of the electorate.
“The level of acceptance is higher in small towns,” he said. “In the schools in Chenderiang, the racial mix is very good. This means that the students have more opportunities to mingle with one another,” he said.
Dr Mah stressed that Malaysians must always be mindful about having a broader perspective in life and that people should be cautious about not making racial remarks.
“At the end of the day, we are all citizens of planet Earth,” he said.

Painful love bytes

Shakespeare is right even in these days of Twitter and text messages – the course of true love never does run smooth, as seen from testimonies in one of the largest US dailies.

ONE woman relates how she would get a tattoo after each breakup. It is “pain therapy” of sorts for her. Another confesses that she left her boyfriend despite his being a loyal partner.

Then she was smitten by another guy who was scheduled to appear in a new reality show. In her zeal to win his love, “I made myself too available”. In the end, she lost him as well. These are all real life accounts of “love in the new millenium”, as writer Daniel Jones puts it. And love is just as fraught in this cyber-age of Facebook, iPhone, Twitter and e-mail.

“But the ways of finding, keeping, losing and talking about love has changed,” Jones notes. “Now, technology is so overwhelmingly a part of dating and mating, it’s hard to think of what we did before. And there’s a casualness about love and sex that seems more pervasive than ever.”

A college student, 21, wrote that the cyber-age is “where hookups are just a Craigslist ad away and the game has evolved to the point of no rules. For my generation, friendship often morphs into a sexual encounter and then reverts to friendship the next day.”

Jones has seen, or rather, read many of such cases. He is the editor of Modern Love, a popular Sunday column in The New York Times, which features contributions from people about love or longing.

The stories are not all about romance. One man talks about appreciating a difficult mother, a “drama queen” who suffers from Alzheimer’s disease. Another guy broke up with his girlfriend of five years but still “spied” on her on Facebook and got upset when he discovered that his grandfather had befriended his ex on the site. That, he felt, was a betrayal.

Modern Love has been under Jones’ charge since it started about six years ago. He gets essays from around the United States from “everyday people”, from high school students to grandparents.

“I receive about 300 submissions a month,” Jones says in an e-mail interview. The column invites frank, personal testimonies on families, relationships, dating, parenthood or any other situation that is considered contemporary love.

Jones, 47, has lost count of the stories that touched him. But, he adds, his job becomes even more compelling when he comes across “a smart or sensitive new voice”.

“I do get worn down by material that’s subpar for whatever reason, or by reading the same situation over and over. But a great piece can make up for it.”

He has his own love story to share about his wife, the author of My Sister’s Bones and Sweet Ruin.

“She and I met when she visited my graduate writing programme in Tuscon, Arizona. We got to know each other through letters for several months until we were able to meet again and see if we actually liked each other in person. That was before e-mail, 20 years ago.”

They have a daughter, 15, and a son, 12.

Jones believes that modern tools in the 21st century have made communication easier “but the work of love, and the awkwardness, seems to remain much the same. People still get hurt, dumped, and heartbroken, and always will. Your Facebook status won’t shield you from that. Neither can iPhone or Twitter.”

Take, for example, how a woman described being told by her husband of two decades that he does not love her anymore: “His words came at me like a speeding fist, like a sucker punch,” she wrote.

People now have practically limitless choice when it comes to finding love, or so it seems, with technology and social networking, Jones says.

“We used to be somewhat limited by locale, job or school, or to those within a certain circle. Now that has been blasted apart, and we can find love anywhere. But greater choice comes with its own hazards and the expectations can be kind of paralysing – there’s a feeling that there’s always someone better out there.”

For those who are married, it has become easy to look up old loves and re-connect.

“This fuels fantasies about ‘what might have been’, and in many cases, these late-in-life reconnections are destroying marriages.

“With this ease comes complication. Ah, the wonders of technology!”

Jones, who grew up in Pittsburgh, is based in Northampton, Massachusetts. He is the author of After Lucy, a finalist for the Barnes & Noble Discover Award, and the editor of an anthology titled The Bastard on the Couch: 27 Men Try Really Hard to Explain their Feelings about Love, Loss, Fatherhood and Freedom.

Although most of the contributors to Modern Love are females, Jones says there there have been more male readers than he expected. Modern Love has become so popular that a selection of the essays has been compiled into a book titled Modern Love – 50 True and Extraordinary Tales of Desire, Deceit and Devotion.

Jones, who has sifted through tens of thousands of love stories, remembers October 2009 as being his best month.

“I just loved all the four essays (for) that month,” he says. One of the stories was submitted by a man who said he had become a better person and a more loving partner to his companion after getting a dachshund as a pet. In a Valentine’s Day article this year, Jones wrote: “Will love always be this strange? You’d think by now we would have an iHeart app that takes our quivering insecurities and converts them into kilowatts that can be sold back to the power company.”

But unfortunately, we don’t, as he well knows.

Nadia keeps Naza flag flying

It is easy to write off anyone who is born into a business empire but Nur Nadia SM Nasimuddin seems to have a good head on her shoulders and the competence to continue the work of her late father.

FOR all her youth, Nur Nadia SM Nasimuddin is beginning to walk the talk as she strives to become another force behind the Naza brand.

“I have always been interested in the family business,” says the youngest child of the late Tan Sri SM Nasimuddin SM Amin, who in 1975 started what was to become Malaysia’s biggest importer of luxury cars and which eventually evolved into a giant conglomerate with about 30 companies.

Nadia, 24, is the director of Naza Hotels and F&B Group, and oversees five hotels and two restaurants.

During a one-hour interview, Nadia talks about how she always knew her primary calling in life.

“When I was studying, my dad had mentioned the hotel business. And I knew earlier on that this was what I wanted to do,” she says.

Nadia has been in the family business since graduating in management studies from the University of Nottingham almost three years ago.

She would go to the United States about once every two months for business trips to inspect the two hotels in California owned by Naza.

“It’s a tough business, but I have a passion for it,” she says.

Her work philosophy is all about pleasing the customers and providing consistent service.

“We want to build trust. It has been a learning curve for me and I have a good support team.”

She gets down to details, too, as she notes that one of her pet concerns is the cleanliness of the hotels.

“I would even check the toilets. I would be upset if I find that things are not clean. Things like these are not tolerated in my hotels,” she stresses, referring to the three Naza Talyya hotels in Johor Baru, Malacca and Penang.

As the boss of about 210 staff members, Nadia describes herself as someone quite strict yet understanding.

“I discovered that I have a drive to motivate people. They feel that they can work with me.

But questions on the so-called “lifestyle of the rich and famous” draw few comments from Nadia who prefers to talk about being at home with her family.

“I don’t really go out at night.”

There is, apparently, no nightlife nor parties for this young woman, which perhaps explains why she has largely sidestepped the public spotlight or scandals usually associated with the wealthy.

Asked where she would “hang out”, she names KLCC and Pavillion but even then, it would mostly be for lunch or dinner with business associates or family members.

During the interview, she appears hesitant, even tentative in her replies. One can only surmise that she is not entirely at ease being in the public eye.

What comes through, however, is a seemingly sensible and well-brought up young woman who cares deeply about family ties, the family business and reputation.

Where does she shop for clothes? “Zara, Topshop,” she replies. Her wedding ring was purchased from Habib Jewels.

That isn’t entirely expected from someone who is part of an empire that has been estimated to be worth at least RM3bil.

Her upbringing has to be credited for that.

According to Nadia, her parents had been strict with her and her four older siblings, drilling into them that they should not squander the family fortune.

“We were taught to control our expenses and not to splurge. We are mindful of the hard work that my dad put in to build the empire.”

She recalls her father bringing them to the orphanages so that they would appreciate what they had.

“During Ramadan, he would host buka puasa for orphans. In fact, he had always wanted to take us to India so that we could see how different life is for others.”

As a child, her parents would tell her off when she used up her pocket money faster than she should have.There were no compromises, too, where their studies were concerned.

As a result, Nadia had excelled in school; first in Sri Cempaka, then at Kolej Tuanku Ja’afar (KTJ).

Does she like cars? “Yes, but not the way my brothers like them!”

She does not own any vehicle and would hop into any car that the chauffeur brought in the morning.

In July, Nadia married Hamzah Alang, 26, the son of the Holiday Villa Hotels owner.

Going by the murmurs in the blogs, the wedding was one of those things she had indulged in as the reception had been a grand affair.

“I knew him during our days in KTJ. We were just friends then.” They dated for about a year before they got married.

Shortly after Hari Raya, the couple headed off to Hawaii and French Polynesia for their honeymoon.

Asked about her daily routine, Nadia says her day would usually start with breakfast with the family. “I would see my brothers and update them on the hotels.”

There is no sibling rivalry, she insists. “We are all in the business, doing different things.”

Naysayers will think that she merely serves as a garnish in her father’s massive empire.

“People tend to judge you, thinking that those born with a silver spoon don’t even have to finish their studies,” Nadia confides.

But with her resume, she knows she has the last word.

Dating on the cards

Never mind that little black dress. A new, essential tool these days is a little black card for single women (and men) who have eyed someone out there.

WHEN Lori Cheek, an architect, spotted an attractive stranger during a Fourth of July party in the Hamptons, she quietly slipped a black calling card into his back pocket.

The man did not even see Cheek, 37.

Since then, however, they have been going out on dates; the guy had decided to take up the bidding in the card where, stated in small print, was the message “find me”.

Also on the card was a website address (www.cheekd.com) and a unique code.

Intrigued, he checked out the site and keyed in the code, which linked him to a private online profile about Cheek.

“He e-mailed me after the weekend and we met for a drink,” Cheek said.

That, ladies and gentlemen, is a true account of the latest dating tool which has hit New York, a city with almost four million singles according to the 2008 American Community Survey.

A report in The New York Times stated that there are more single people in New York City than the entire population of Chicago which has 2.7 million inhabitants.

Thus, lonely hearts who are wary about online dating or tired of speed dating now have another option that is “fun and non-intimidating” to hit on someone who has just sparked their interest.

“You see someone attractive, you make eye contact or perhaps even offer a wink. Then you hand out the card,” said Cheek, who started the website in May and found her own success story to share.

The cards come with catchy taglines such as “Emotionally Available”, “Our Story Begins”, “We’ll Laugh About This A Year From Now” and “Don’t Overthink This”.

At the website, a deck of 50 cards are offered at US$25 plus one month of free service where users post information or receive messages on the site.

“The advantage here is that the world is your shopping cart,” said Cheek in an e-mail interview. “You are practically shopping on the streets, in real life.”

This, she said, is unlike online dating where everyone knows that men and women out there tend to exaggerate their merits on online dating networks.

The service was a refreshing alternative to online profile browsing, she said. “It is also unlike speed dating or ‘It’s Just Lunch’ events, where your only options are the other individuals at the event.”

Cheek said she had been getting happy feedback from singles who have handed out the cards surreptitiously.

“I got the nicest e-mail from a 53-year-old man with three children whose wife had recently left him. He thought it was a great way to give his card away to women while he was with his children and they wouldn’t really know that he was handing off a pick-up line!”

Cheek said she thought of the idea for such cards about two years ago when she had just finished dinner with a male friend in SoHo, a neighbourhood in Manhattan.

Her friend wrote on the back of his business card “Want to have dinner?” and handed it to a girl at an adjacent table as he and Cheek were leaving the restaurant.

“I thought it was pretty bold and mysterious that he’d slipped her the card, but thought it would be much more interesting if that card hadn’t had the information of his place of employment on it.

“I then started thinking how interesting it would be to have different suggestions pre-printed on cards that you could use in all kinds of different scenarios. The process seemed like a ‘Tag. You’re It’ kind of game for urban singles,” Cheek said.

So far, the response to the cards had been incredible.

“I’ve received thank you letters from users for creating the idea and ‘sharing the magic.’ We’ve gotten thousands of sign-ups on our site.”

The users come from all over the United States.

“Most of the orders are coming from the larger cities but we also have many orders from small towns that I’ve never even heard of!” she enthused. The age range is usually about 20 to 50.

In fact, Cheek had also been getting e-mails from other countries, inquiring how the cards could be purchased overseas.

“We’re working on shipping worldwide and hope to have that set up on our site within the next month.”

She said “Cheek’d” had organised many events since its launch where users and other singles would come for happy-hour drinks.

Cheek’d, of course, isn’t the only such website available now. There are other similar services for singles to mingle with the ones that they fancied.

Still, there are those who question the need for such cards. Why not just walk up to someone and say hi?

“The truth is, people (for the most part) don’t do that. These cards give users a chance to do so without interrupting their lunch/ dinner/previously engaged conversations.”

However, she acknowledged that it takes a bit of courage to hand the card to someone.

“But I also see it as an opportunity to bridge the gap of a certain level of shyness,” Cheek said.

Cheek, who looks for a caring man with a sense of humour, has been seeing the guy whom she “Cheek’d” at the Hamptons a number of times now.

“I’m finding myself really liking him! The bad thing is – I don’t want to get serious about someone because handing these cards out is so much fun!” she said.