The Wordsmith

December 24, 2011

My GRID-IT

Filed under: lifestyle — Tags: , , — The Wordsmith @ 11:30 am

20111224-112951.jpgThis is my Grid-It organizer system, entirely perfect for the messy organized scatterbrain *points at self* who:

1. Gets lost even with those girly organizer bag-inside-a-bag systems.
2. Prefers something that doesn’t scream “YOU’RE SUCH A GIRL”
3. Prefers to have all her things stuck to a medium like Velcro so she can rip them off and put them back easy-peasy.
4. Has a weakness for functional things which are really cool-looking at the same time.
5. Likes to be a little different. Just a little.

This thing fits everything from my hand cream to my back-up portable charger. There’s also my eye drops, Thai hot oil for reviving fainting yoga buddies, fountain pens, refills and adaptor wires. How much can a girl (or guy) ask for? The system comes in various sizes, from pen and key-holder size to mine, which is the ideal size I reckon; to really big, almost A4 sized.

June 3, 2011

Dog Lover

Filed under: lifestyle — Tags: — The Wordsmith @ 1:41 pm

pep+wordsmithThe first dog in my memory was Snoopy. He was a dachshund. I was four. Maybe three. Perhaps five. There was Bingo too. She was Snoopy’s daughter I think. Snoopy was such an old man dog. So mature. Like an uncle. He looked after me. I think he played with me because he felt obliged to. Like an adult babysitting a kid.

I wanted to be a vet because of Snoopy. He was just so…grown up. He taught me how to plan grown up stuff.

And then it was Shandy and Brandy. Both dachshunds. Shandy was named for the colour of his fur, a rich golden brown. He was such a girlie dog, even though he was male. He would go under grandma’s flowers at 2pm sharp, ‘cos it was hot; and come out at 5 with tiny flowers stuck to his head. Like clockwork.
Brandy was a boy dog, very macho, a bit overweight. He had a brother, Whisky, who lived with my cousin.
Charcoal was a little black dog with a hip problem. We believe he was dognapped. He looked like a Rottweiler. But he wasn’t one.

Butch and Dozer were brother and sister. A lovely lovely set of German pointer-boxer mix. They were truly intelligent. Butch would wait for my sister everyday after school. Dozer could open doors. She used her brains to get food. And because she was so smart, she got really fat. In those days, a man would come in his van and sell fresh meat and vegetables out of it. He would wrap it in paper and tie it with string, and grandma would saunter back from the van to the house. Butch would walk her out. More than once, by the time she got back, the lovely fresh piece of meat would disappear from her packet. Without a trace.

sheba I was about in college overseas, about to get into university. I couldn’t go through with veterinary science. Couldn’t even bring myself to euthanise a living creature. Couldn’t even think about it.
When I started work, Sheba was the newest addition. She was a furry black fluffy ball. A Rottweiler but with long curly fur. We suspect she had a hint of retriever in her. She learned how to open doors from Dozer. And then she taught herself how to sing, especially when there was food around. She loved to eat buah langsat. She would take them out of the plastic bag, one at a time, peel it and eat the sweet fruit inside. We would buy her her very own pack of buah langsat and sit around the TV, eating it together. One time I caught her taking a nap next to mum, her head on the pillow. She had stolen in and decided she wanted a share of mum’s headrest. That’s what I call, a dog living dangerously.

My friends, cousin and I would give her hair cuts once every couple of months. She loved them, and she loved baths because her hair was so thick. Sheba recovered from paralysis caused by tick fever. We made her a wheelchair, gave her daily therapy, got in a TCM practitioner to massage her. She was the catalyst that brought my uncles closer to us, a closeness that remains strong today. She died of bone cancer and is buried with a gravestone.

Sheba taught Pepper about car rides and how to be queen of her domain. Pepper sings a little too, though a different song. She came to us at nine months old, given away because her first humans did not have time for her. She rules over her boy dogs now - Obi, Max and the others. She even has her own bed. Spoilt silly because if there’s nothing else in the world, her humans know that dogs love unconditionally.

I believe dogs teach each other things, little behavioural idiosyncrasies like opening doors, singing and car rides. For me on a very personal basis, that’s how my dogs pass their heritage on to the next generation.

September 12, 2010

Shoes on Active Duty

Filed under: lifestyle — Tags: , — The Wordsmith @ 6:10 pm

The Wordsmith's Shoes

It’s a beautiful Sunday. The sun is shining, and giant white poofy clouds are spread out all over the sky. I should be out thrashing the bike about or at least be on a kayak floating down Sungai Sarawak Kiri. As it is, I slept through my friend’s weekend adventures with a sinus infection that’s not going away.

So what’s a girl gonna do?

To get out my front door, I have to pass my wooden show cabinet (which I’m very fond of). Today, the doors were open and I had a glimpse of all the shoes I own. I own a hell of a lot of shoes, mainly because my bad feet and active lifestyle necessitate high performing, very comfortable and often too-expensive shoes. And I wear all the shoes I own all the time. Quite a feat considering I only have two feet (pun intended).

So with my stuffy, drippy, congested, slightly swollen proboscis, I sit at my garden table with the dogs and review 16 pairs of shoes I own that are on active duty. This is a no holds barred review, forget what the shiny reviews by the manufacturers say online. And please bear in mind, I’m heavy and active, with low arches and feet pain. So my standards are set a little on the high side. They are numbered according to the photo, right to left starting from the top row:

1. My red Ipanema flip flops. I love my Ipanemas. They are Brazillian and made of really durable rubber. They feel and are so much tougher than they look; and they’re super flexible, but they’re flops, so no support. I got mine from Kota Kinabalu, Sabah, after I came down Mount Kinabalu a few years ago. My legs felt like noodles after the climb, I needed a pair of something to flop around with and the Ipanemas just called out to me. Very cool pair of flops. Not cheap (hey, I earn Malaysian Ringgit, give me a break). I think these cost me about RM40 at the time. The soles still look brand new.

2. My turqouse Crocs Athens. Everybody appreciates the comfort and wacky designs of Crocs. These are great for my low arches and heel spur. No arguments there. But having worn mine down quite a bit, I find them bordering on the treacherous on wet ground, especially here in the tropics. For over RM129 a pair (much more if you’re getting Crocs shoes), I’m pretty sure I could do better. My advise is to get a pair from Singapore (be nice to your Singaporean friend), where they sell the flip flops at a fraction of the price here. Come to think of it, I did get this pair in Singapore, for about S$20 (RM43).

3. My Birkies. I love my Birkenstock Papillio. Everything about them screams out the urban ME. Coolness aside, the fact that their cork insoles conform to the shape of my feet over time makes them one of the most comfortable shoes I own. Comfort and good looks. What more can I ask for? Not avialable in Kuching. I got these in Singapore (hmm, I’m beginning to see a pattern here). And yes, through the roof expensive.

4. My Jesus sandals. These are my red and black Surfers Paradise sandals; I call them Jesus sandals cos I imagine the Lord wore a funkier ancient version of these (Jesus is cool, man, no two ways about that). Fantastic for kayaking, waterfalls and the beach because they’re 100% rubber. But not a lot of support at all. Plus, if you’re not careful the cross straps on the instep do pinch. I only wear them when I’m kayaking. My feet hurt if I wear them for shopping marathons.

5. My Mizunos. The Mizuno X10 Wave Alchemy. Designed for over-pronators like me. I use them for gym or when I’m training at home, or on the stationary bike. I like that they wide, cos I have hobbit feet (not the hair, just the width). They are OK. Not supercalifragilisticexpialidocious great, but comfortable enough. I reckon they could do with a more robustly cushioned sole. Then again, they’re meant for running, and I use them general training, and I’m not light. They’re great for stability though.

6. My Specialized Comp cycling shoes. These are dedicated cycling shoes that clip on to SPD pedals. For my large hobbit feet, these are pretty ok. But then again, I don’t have other brands to compare with. Still, I like ‘em. They do the job. They are not high end carbon soled whatchamighthaveit super bike shoe, but they get me up to speed on the bike. What else can I ask for?

7. My beautiful Keens. These are the outdoors soul sisters to my urban Birkies. They are the call of the wild for me; the Keens of adventure. This is by far my absolute favourite pair of all terrain, full comfort outdoor sandals. And yes, I will say they are supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. These are my easy on easy off, go hiking, mountain biking (if you don’t use clips), shopping, climbing kinda shoes. And oh yeah, they look uber cool. The only thing about them is that in this tropical weather, sunning them for a couple of hours once in a while is a necessity to get rid of odour. I got mine for 40% off at Singapore’s Velocity. Cool place.

8. My girlie Crocs. No idea what this Crocs model is. Pretty decent pair of town shoes when I’m in a girlie mood. Very comfortable, but I don’t have a lot outfits that go with it. So they do get neglected a little.

10. My old Asics Duomax Gel 210 TR. They are falling apart but I love them. Great arch support and stability. I put my custom-made inserts in them and used them for high-impact gym activities for the longest time. I highly recommend them for cross-training but I’m not sure if this model is still in the market. They are a lot better than some of the newer Asics models. I got this pair in Melbourne, Australia many years ago. I’ve retired them and they are now my ever-day shoes, though they still bring me to qigong and self defence classes. No more high impact for them.

11. My Reeboks. I own an old pair of Reebok DMX Max which I got at least 6 years ago. They are fantastic for cushioning. VERY comfortable. But, I find that I have to place my hobbit toes carefully in them because they do taper a little bit right at the toe cap. And I’ve had to have the soles re-stitched just to make sure they don’t come out. Other than that, a solid pair of comfortable shoes with loads of cushioning.

12. My New Balance MR892SL. What can I say? Probably the least comfortable of all my high performance shoes. They look really cool, but they don’t provide enough cushioning for my long-suffering feet; and are a little too stiff for my liking. The stability is not bad, but unless you have very normal, non-problematic feet, I wouldn’t recommend them. I was very disappointed with them because my last pair of New Balances were fantastic. As it is, this pair was a let down.

9, 13 & 14. My hikers. I love hiking shoes in general, especially lightweight trail runners, which are great for the tropics. I have three active pairs. I’ve written about them in another post here.

15 & 16. My Merrells. Merrell is a really diverse brand. They have walkers, city schleppers, hard core hiking boots and everything in between. They do sell Merrells in Malaysia, but my two pairs were bought in New York and Vancouver. They are very very comfortable shoes for working and the office. They were part of my office ensemble for many years. I love the brown leather. It gets better with age. But they do get a bit warm for tropical weather. Still, I’d recommend them to anyone. Good, sensible, versatile walkers.

The shoes I’ve reviewed here were collected over a period of about 10 years. I buy shoes for comfort. That’s why you don’t see heels or silly insensible footwear here. They do cost me a lot of money. But I found out the hard way that when I wear shoes with no support, my feet give way. Literally. I have found myself suddenly sitting down on my behind in the middle of the trail, blinking in surprise because my feet just collapsed from under me; or walking until my feet just can’t go on. Unfortunately, shoes with excellent arch support and comfort are often expensive. I have decided that they are a necessary expense in my life because my feet are my life. They allow me the lifestyle I love. So far, the ones that I have now are doing a great job. They’re keeping chronic feet pain and injury at bay.

September 3, 2010

When There’s Ants in Ze Pants

Filed under: lifestyle — Tags: , — The Wordsmith @ 7:08 am

The Wordsmith_nicfranIt’s one of those Fridays. I mean that in a good sense. It’s one of those Fridays where there are extra ants in my pants and I want to do 101 things over the weekend, all of them involving me prancing about in the Great Outdoors.

Should I take the bike out? Road or mountain?

Should I hop on a boat and get to Bako?

Should I run up Singai or mosey up the Indian Temple or hop up Santubong? ….hmm no, maybe not Santubong (it’s haunted – haha, ain’t that a great excuse?)

Should I go for a swim? Jump down a waterfall (and swim with a snake)?

It don’t matter what I do, it’s gonna be a good one.

People, it’s GOOD TO BE ALIVE. Now go out there and do something you love for the weekend.

Photo: That’s the look I want on my face this weekend.

August 26, 2010

“Kick Me”

Filed under: Fitness, Food For Thought, lifestyle — Tags: , , , , , — The Wordsmith @ 11:08 pm

bruce-lee-enter-the-dragonRemember that scene in Enter the Dragon, about five minutes into the movie, where Bruce Lee says to the young Shaolin student, “Kick me”? (and he says it oh so coolly).

Well tonight, my Sifu said to me, “Kick me”. I looked at him – brain freeze. In my head I went, “Noooooooooooooooo - déjà vu!” and wanted to run screaming away with hands a-flailing because Sifu was surely going to flip me three times and stuff me down the drain pipe or something like that. But there he was, pointing at his right shoulder.

“Kick me”.

*Gulp* So I did.

“You call that a kick?” At that point I was looking around for a hidden camera. Enter the Kuching Dragon, perhaps? (And if you’ve never watched the movie, please, stop reading and go watch it now. Everybody watches Enter the Dragon, Kung Fu or no Kung Fu).

*Double gulp*, so I did again. Quite a few times because I missed a couple of times (so sue me, it’s not everyday that I kick people on the shoulder). And then the Little Mouse ran to his other shoulder and did her little mouse kicks on him. Two ladies flanking a middle aged man, raising their legs at the same time and kicking him without really pulling back. Holy green hornet, the man did not even flinch.

Geez.

So what am I doing kicking a man at 8.30 on a Thursday evening? (Take that kinky thought out of your head or I’ll kick you instead). It started out as a work project. I needed to understand the philosophy of Kung Fu for work, amongst other reasons (busted ankle – had to do something with less impact, like Wing Chun) Ask me no questions and I’ll give you no kicks. Don’t ask. Just read on. Anyway, Sifu and I are part of a well-oiled team at work, and he gives Wing Chun classes, so there I was.

It was research and when I first started three weeks ago, I had four left feet, two right arms, a wooden noggin and I thought I would never get it. Never mind that I did Tae Kwon Do 24 years ago in school and was not too bad at it. In fact, I used to do 180-degree splits front and side and broke a few boards with some kicks. I even had a plastic medal to show from some long-forgotten tournament which I am completely embarrassed about. But as Bruce Lee once said, boards don’t hit back, and I took it up just for kicks (pun intended), as a sport; not for self defence – all of which are exactly what self defence and Wing Chun are not. The bottom line was, for real I-can-use-this-on-an-attacker Kung Fu, I had to re-programme my preconception of Kung Fu and martial arts. Mentally, I had to do back flips, somersaults and brain contortions to get there.

Three weeks into Wing Chun, and intellectually, I appreciate the philosophy of it more with each lesson. It’s turning out to be a beautiful journey of rediscovery. Kung Fu is the corner stone that has reopened for me a deeper understanding of Chinese culture. With that understanding, a deeper appreciation of connections to other cultures, of universal life philosophies and a re-examining of self. Trust me, it’s like peeling a giant onion. And it ends up not just being about Chinese culture but about life in its entirety. Beautiful, ain’t it? Walk it, then you’ll know it.

Right. Back to the Wing Chun dummy (yeah, muggins here). What connected in the head has not transferred to the body quite yet. While the philosophy is really starting to click in the grey matter, I’m pretty sure I look like one of those movie extras who look positively arthritic when they do Kung Fu. And they’re always the first ones to get their asses kicked or killed.

So anyway. “Kick me”, said Sifu.

I did. And learned what it feels like to do a real kick. Well, not a real hard kick. Just a not-for-show no-nonsense kick.

More about Cyn’s adventures (or should I say misadventures?) in Kung Fu soon.

N.B. Cyn does Wing Chun (or Eng Choon) at Kuching’s first Wing Chun training centre here. She also does White Crane Qigong at the same place, which she absolutely loves because she gets to huff and puff and blow a house down (ya, right).

Photograph sourced from: http://s592.photobucket.com/albums/tt3/hottamale6996/.

March 10, 2010

Tao De Bike (Offroad Riding) - Musings of A Newbie Mountain Biker

Filed under: Adventure, lifestyle — Tags: , , , , — The Wordsmith @ 9:56 pm

Off-road Zen (The Wordsmith)

Last week, I went on my first off-road mountain-biking experience. Like most things that I get myself into, I had no idea what I was in for. When I was 12, I used to do bunny hops, wheelies,  track stands and other popular BMX stunts popular with the neighbourhood boys. At least, I think  I tried to execute some pathetic semblance of those tricks. Frankly, I think I only imagined I  did those bike stunts. It probably looked more like a chubby kid looking weird on a BMX. I never  thought I would ever, ever, ever have to try and do those things again in my mid-thirties.

I bought a second-hand mountain bike off a friend who was going away for a few years. It was a  decent 3-year-old GT Avalanche for RM500 (~USD125). I’m told it’s a very decent bike (I know  very little about bikes. They are meant to be hopped on and pedalled away. Period). Two days  after I wheeled it in, I took it out for what would’ve turned out to be a 120-kilometre ride if  I had completed it. It had a wonky back wheel, under-pumped tires, and the last time I did any  serious cycling, I was not old enough to drive.

Obviously, I had no idea what I was doing.

That was last September. I’ve cycled over 900km on-road since. Closer to 1,000 actually.

Back to my off-road experience. It was in a quarry. There was a lot of getting off and pushing  the bike; a lot more huffing, puffing and some wheezing. And then it was speeding downhill on a  rocky road with a high chance of flying off your bike and doing a superwoman into a ditch. My  first downhill slope scared the living daylights out of me. I had to come off the bike and push.  It scared me even more when one adventure buddy hurtled pass me in a blur and kissed the rocks  on the ground.

But, you’re off-road, it’s a long trail. It gets tiresome to push your bike, especially  downhill. You get fed up and you tell yourself what the hey, just go for it. The more earthy of  us went “SH*&#T!!” I’m more religious. I went “SHHHHHHH*#^$^#P$$TTTTT!” first and then “Thank  you, Lord” when I reached the bottom in one piece. Essentially, it was a matter of hanging on  for dear life. But what fun. And what freedom. I now understand the true effect of adrenaline a  lot more. There’s always an element of fear, but then you face that and the adrenaline is like a  drug.

And then you’re free.

But on my last and steepest downhill hanging on to dear life jobbie, I struck the beginnings of  what I call mountain biking zen. I realized then that off-roading is a lot like life:

1. If you look at all the pebbles and rocks right in front when you’re going downhill, you’re  more likely to fall off unnecessarily. Look ahead at the bigger picture, aim for where you want  to be, hang on, keep your balance, and you’ll reach your destination.

2. You can’t sit on your behind all the time. Sometimes, very often, you need to stand up on  your pedals or pedal very hard in order to stay on the bike, or to make your ride smoother.

3. Going uphill is a real slog, but no matter how slow you get, as long as you pedal and keep  your balance, you’re unlikely to fall off.

4. It’s OK to get off and push. We all need a little help from time to time.

5. Experienced mountain bikers often look cool, tough and intimidating because they have skills.  And they look….cool. But once you get into the thick of things, they are approachable, good  people. Some are even teddy bears. Don’t judge books by their covers, even adventure thrillers.

6. You don’t really need to train yourself to go off-road. The off-roading itself is the  training. Pre-offroad training in the gym, on-road, etc. helps, but they are not the real thing.

7. People are kind. They will encourage you. They will make jokes. But they are kind. How you  act or react to them is entirely your choice.

8. There will always be fear. If you don’t meet it head on, you’re not going to finish the  course.

9. Adrenaline rocks. It’s also scary. Every time.

10. You test your faith all the way. You’re also better off competing with yourself and enjoying that

Will I go off-road again? Very likely.

Will I be scared? Indubitably. Scared beyond belief.

Will I have fun? Isn’t that the whole point? Isn’t that life?

N.B. The Wordsmith has gone off-road twice since writing this. Each off-road experience is

different from the next and brings with it different life lessons and zen realizations.

December 28, 2009

Massage Therapy That Works

Filed under: health, lifestyle — Tags: , — The Wordsmith @ 3:54 pm

Nevermind that you are half naked. Nevermind that you are wearing a curtain with rubberband.  Nevermind that you are lying on your stomach, completely vulnerable. When elbow comes down, you are in utter bliss. Forget that you are being kneaded like a giant blob of dough on a baker’s counter. The only thing you care about is that you woke up this morning in blinding agony, neck cricked on one side and swearing like a sailor; and now, all of that seems like a drugged fantasy.

That was me on a Sunday afternoon. I had injured my shoulder and neck a few weeks ago. That is what happens when human sacks of potatoes slip and fall. I had spent copious amounts of cash on masseurs and masseuses all over town but here I was, weeks later, and a second injury on top of the first.

There are about a million massage centres, foot reflexology spas, fish therapy rooms and quacky gurus from Batu Lintang to BDC. I’ve tried about 500,000 of them and decided that maybe one is okay for certain ailments, one is okay if I’m feeling charitable, most have quality control issues, and some think I will pay for hanky panky.

Friends recommend their favourite to me all the time but I am a royal fusspot when it comes to massage. Most of the time, recommendations just do not cut it for me. The first time I heard of Beijing Natural Healing was from an old friend who had a serious problem with his shoulder four years ago. As usual, I pooh-poohed it away, knowing that these rave reviews seldom amount to much. More recently, friend who have had chronic back and knee problems started talking about Beijing again and how they engage only masters from Harbin in China.

I have a problem with my Achilles tendon on top of my injuries. Two reflexologies and a corrective therapy later, I am quite happy to sing the praises of the masseurs at Beijing Natural Healing. They know their stuff and have been consistent in standards.  They don’t say much, these masters. They look, touch, and they know how to make you squirm. The dough-kneading was fantastic, but by the time he worked his way down to my shoulder, I felt like a wet towel being wrung out to dry. The strain and pain is gone, I feel a bit bruised from all the manhandling; but I’m going back for more. A 90% improvement after one session is something to write home about. After the shoulder, I’m going all out for the Achilles heel.

Beijing Natural Healing, 103, R.H. Plaza. One for the books.

December 3, 2009

Keeping Things Simple This Holiday

Filed under: Food For Thought, lifestyle — Tags: , , , — The Wordsmith @ 7:55 am

wooden bridge_sematanKeeping busy is a wonderful thing, but it does mean opportunity costs for things that lie beyond the to-do list, like blogging, for example.

The holiday season is upon us. I try to unclutter if I can, when I can. For those of you who aspire towards the same, here’re some tips I found to be profoundly useful. Enjoy.

1. Don’t let perfectionism ruin your holidays.

2. Make a list of 5 projects/tasks you want to finish before the end of the year.

3. Heed your limits of time and money.

4. When you start to get irritable - take a break.

5. Say what you want, instead of hinting.

6. You get to choose how busy you want this season to be.

7. Take a drive to see the lights.

November 1, 2009

Cycling Sematan on a Lazy Saturday

Filed under: Adventure, lifestyle — Tags: , , , , , , , — The Wordsmith @ 2:15 pm

Question: Who wakes up at 5am on a free-and-easy Saturday?

Answer: Nuts who are into cycling around the countryside, exploring less beaten paths.

It’s always a blessing and a joy to be able to hurtle away from town and get into whichever adventure gear with like-minded activity buddies. One lazy Saturday, it was to be cycling in Sematan.

Off we went, the three of us; minus our Sifu, Yoda and Master Kwai Chang Cane equivalent, who had to save the world from his office.

We piled the bikes on the pick-up and drove 110 km to the coastal village of Sematan, my childhood holiday beachside playground. We clocked 24 km at a leisurely pace, stopping often to take photos, enjoy the scenery and say hello to the friendly locals.

This is a pictorial essay of our trip. For once, I will let pictures paint my words. It was wonderful. I want to savour the joy of the ride in my soul for the moment.

October 3, 2009

Parallels

Filed under: lifestyle — Tags: , , , — The Wordsmith @ 6:42 am

Naxi lady

Somewhere in Vancouver, my friend Lou is in his home. He’s probably fast asleep as I type. Maybe he’s tapping at his keyboard, writing out those words of his I find so absorbing.

Somewhere in Africa, Kate is tracking elephants. Maybe she’s at her lab, analyzing data. I don’t know. I don’t know the time difference between here and Tanzania.

Somewhere in New York, or maybe California, I don’t know where he is right now, Ian is sending good thoughts to his loved ones.

Somewhere in Yunnan China, a little old lady gets ready to take her daily afternoon walk.

Somewhere in Long Lellang, the folks I haven’t seen for so long are hard at work in the farm. It’s another couple of hours before the day winds down for them and they head home.

And right here, right now, as all these people are doing their thing, here I am, sitting at my desk, thinking about all the parallels and possibilities that this little mind can possibly conceive of.

Photo: This little old lady takes a daily walk every afternoon. She is of the Naxi people in Yunnan, China. I didn’t ask her, but I guess her age to be a 100, judging from other little old ladies I have met and asked in that area of Yunnan. I wonder how many great-great-great grandchildren she has. I wish I had had the time to talk to her and hear her stories.

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