The way we were…

When I was little, my house was near a three-point junction (simpang tiga) with the Melanau kampung/village to the right and the Malay kampung to the left.  Thus, my childhood friends were all the Melanau and Malay kids from these kampungs and we all spoke the Sarawak version of the Malay Language.

We played football on any piece of land sticking two sticks in the ground for the makeshift goal.  We went into the jungle, built huts out of the branches and leaves and spent the day there, enjoying ousrsevles and cooking our own food.  Never mind that it was not very hygienic, well-cooked nor delicious; it was fun!

 We made catapults from forked branches of trees and lots and lots of rubber band and pieces of leather cut from old, discarded shoes. We made pop-guns using bamboo and sticks and used the pea-like seeds of a certain plant as the pellets. And we would strip down to our homemade boxers and jump into the river for a whale of the time. Needless to say, everytime there was a flood in the town, we were the happiest of all!

I can go on and on about the things we did, our exploits as kids…but the point that I would highlight is the fact that we were friends, regardless of colour or creed. Sometimes, they would eat at my place and with due respect to their religion, we would not serve pork – canned sardines, cangkuk manis fried with egg and “sayur rebus” and when eating with friends, the simplest fare woiuld seem like a banquet for a king and rest assured, we would lick our plates clean!

At the time, we were all Sarawakians under the rule of the “ang moh” or “orang putih” (We did not call them “Mat Salleh over here!) but somehow, today it seems that much has changed… Children do not have the time to be children anymore and after attaining independence for some 50 years now, we should be living together as “one people, one nation” but are we? Well, at least, my friends and I did!

I would like, therefore, to close with the lines from the song by Barbara Streisand:

“Can it be that it was all so different then? Or has time rewritten every line? If we had the chance to do it all again, tell me…would we?…..Could we?“

Goodness gracious me!

Regular listeners to the afternoon show on TraxxFm (1-4pm) would be familiar with this song with Sophia Loren as the patient and Peter Sellers as a doctor, an Indian one at that with a peculiar Indian accent. Then, there is S.H. Tan who had a hilarious anecdote about a Chinese fruit seller at Petaling Street and a Malay customer. Furthermore, some of you may know the Malay stand-up comic, Datuk Jamali Shadat, who shot to fame when he emerged 1st runner-up in Bakat TV 1970 (or was it 1971?) . He would have the audience in stitches, speaking in all kinds of accents from the various communites in the country. And of course, there’s the one-time very popular TV sit-com, “Mind Your Language”. Remember “Mr. Blown” (pronounced Bla – uan)? All in good fun, I would say…and definitely not intended to offend or insult any sector of the population, but some people saw it fitting to impose a ban on the speaking of Malay in any other accent.  Anyway, that is not the concern of this post.

Despite being an English Language teacher before, I, for one, would not insist on R.P. or the Queen’s English even though there are people who would speak as if they are gargling with marbles or the mouth is stuffed with mashed potatoes. Some students (young upstarts!) would do that, probably because of their home environment or for other reasons known only to them. I would let them speak that way as long as they were comfortablle with it AND as long as they did not make any structural or grammatical errors. Then I would snap their heads off, barking, “You speak like you’ve been living overseas all your life and you don’t even know the simple tenses???”

Whatever it is, there can be no denying that in many cases, a person’s mastery of a language may be affected by his/her mother tongue. Here in Sibu with the predominant Foochow population, it comes as no surprise that there is some negative interference when it comes to the speaking of the English Language. In Form One, the poor kids have to wrestle with Shakespeare’s “Life’s Brief Candle”…and imagine them having to recite, “Thu..mo..lo…, thu..mo..lo.., thu..mo..lo..” which in Foochow, means “No more, no more, no more!”

And what do you think they mean when they appear at the door and ask, “May I khang nging, please? (“Khang nging” in Foochow means “to see”), I would retort, “Khang nging no miang?” (What do you want to see?) The truth of the matter is they want to COME IN but somehow, they have a problem saying “come”. A college lecturer suggests that in their dialect, every word ends with a vowel (mouth open) so they cannot handle a word for which they have to close the mouth at the end. As for ending words with “ng”, the lecturer says that a look at their surnames may explain the whole thing – Wong, Ting, Ling and so on.

Unfortunately, as their English teacher, I had to try and rectify the problem and I assure you it was no easy task. However, I would think that language is for communication and once communication is established, what does it matter? Only when communication breaks down, therein lies the problem like this story that I heard some time ago.

The English would pronounce “no” in a manner that it sounds something like “nau” while Asians would just say ‘no’ as the spelling dictates.   So once, there was this Chinese pilot; as his aircraft was approaching Heathrow Airport, he contacted the control tower saying, “Lequestin permission to rand?” The runways were congested, so the guy at the control tower replied, “No! No!” The pilot heard, “Now! Now!” and landed…..

Easy…

Gosh! So many posts already and not a single one on food! Unbelievable, isn’t it? Well, actually, I was waiting to learn how to upload photos before doing that…but I haven’t had time to do that yet. So here’s a food post then…without photos that will make you drool! 

Well, with all this hoo-haa these days about healthy living and healthy eating, perhaps you would like to try cooking “sayur rebus” or directly translated “boiled vegetables”. This is actually a traditional dish of the ethnic population in Sarawak, and my maternal grandmother being a Melanau, I inherited some ot the family recipes.

It is SO very easy to prepare. First, you boil some water (one Chinese soup bowl) in which you must put a handful of ikan bilis (10-20), or what we call ikan pusu here. Do remove the insides and wash first unless you do not mind those black things floating in your soup later.  Put in some belacan (1-2 cubic cm) and a chilli (stalk and seeds removed). Simmer for a while to allow the flavour to come out of the ingredients.

After that, you can put in sweet potatoes (cut into small cubes) or young sweet corn and either cangkuk manis (I think in West Malaysia, u have the sayur/pucuk manis from Sabah. They’re smaller than the Sarawak variety but taste the same.) or pucuk paku. Note the suggested combination.

Bring to boil and your soup is ready! No salt, no msg, no oil! Isn’t that an absolutely healthy dish? There is no need to add salt because usually the ikan bilis and belacan are salty enough. But if you prefer it saltier, then you can add a little. The same goes with msg; the soup is sweet enough but you can add a pinch of it if you like.

For extra flavour, you can add a stalk or two of lemon grass (serai) but this is optional.  And if you do not mind the high cholesterol level, you can replace the ikan bilis with freshwater prawns (udang galah). This will definitely enhance the taste!

Incidentally, I have also shared the recipe for cooking tapioca leaves with cincaluk in coral’s blog, so if you are interested, you can log on to quest-quench.blogspot.com  and check out my comment.

For one thing, as with most traditional recipes, there are no measurements. They will just tell you “a little bit of this” and “a little bit of that”. Everything is according to taste, so it is sort of a trial and error kind of thing.  For one thing, it is hassle-free…and in my opinion, delicious.

Do give it a try and let me know your verdict! Bon appetit!

Obvious…

I was at a coffee shop enjoying a bowl of mouth-watering kam pua when somebody came up to me and said, “Chiak mee ah?” (Eating noodles?) Now how was I supposed to respond? No, I’m keeping it all in my mouth, so when I get home, I can spit it all out to feed my kids!!!

Or I was sitting in the cineplex waiting for the movie to start. Then somebody walked in and he asked, “Khua hee kah?” (Watch movie kah?) No, my wife threw me out of the house, so I’ve no place to have a nap!!!

Now why on earth do people have to ask the obvious? These are just two instances…but if you think about it, it happens all the time.  You’re up to your neck in work at the office and they ask you, “Busy?”  You’ve just got home and your neighbour asks, “Just got home kah?” Grrrrr……

If there has to be such small talk as an indication of friendliness, they should at least come up with something that is not a mere statement of the obvious.

And don’t you hate it when somebody phones you at home and asks, “Chee leh si lang air choo hio?” (Is this somebody’s house?) I guess what they want to know is whether they’ve called up somebody’s residence and not an office, but I am always tempted to reply, “No, this is somebody. I’m sorry my house can’t talk!”

Or they’ll ask you, “Where is this?” Many a time have I responded, “Now YOU tell me! You made the call and you don’t know where this is???” And once there was this poor fella who called and asked, “Kopi Tiam hia?” (Is this a coffee shop?) I was tempted to say, “No, this is a coffin shop. How many do you want?” However, I refrained from doing so and quietly replied, “Yes, what would you like?” He promptly placed his orders and hung up;I smiled with glee at the thought of that presumptious nincompoop cursing and swearing at some poor coffee shop people once his patience started to wear out.

Oops…I’ve digressed, but never mind. Anyone has anything like that to share?

It’s only words…

Language changes with time despite the fact that purists would insist on the conventional structures and archaic vocabulary.  There is this joke about St Peter.  Keeping vigil at the gates of Heaven as usual, he heard a knock on the door.

“Who goes there?” he asked.

“It is I,” the voice outside replied.

“Oh no!” St Peter groaned,. “Not another English teacher!”

People have been saying, “It’s me,” for so long that it is generally accepted and no longer considered as being grammatically incorrect, though some people (English teachers?) may not agree.

In the same way, some words seem to have acquired new meanings along that way. In the past, if a person remained “cool“, he was calm, or the word was used to describe the temperature in the vicinity. Today, if I say, “He’s cool!”, he is probably nice, interesting, fashionable, trendy or something along those lines. During my time, we used the word “groovy” – a word that evolved during the hippie/flower power era in the 70s.

Besides, some words have frequently been abused to the extent that one would have to use them with caution for out of context, they may bring to mind some not-very-desirable connotations.  Thus when Little Red Riding Hood said, “What big teeth/jaws you have, grandma!” and the wolf replied, “All the better to EAT you with,” the meaning conjured in some individuals’ minds may be different from what is originally intended. So when Bongkersz was in town, I was careful enough not to ask him, “Now, what would YOU like to EAT???” Instead, I suggested, “Would you like some Foochow fried noodles with freshwater prawns for breakfast?” Phew! That was close! ROTFLMAO!!!

I remember when the tiny sultanate attained independence from British colonial rule, the headline on the front page of a local newspaper read: “Brunei goes gay!!!” Of course, the reference was to the happy, joyous celebrations held at the time but today, the word has been associated with something totally different. And when someone talks about the Queen of England, one can never be sure whether he means Elizabeth the 2nd or Sir Elton John, and likewise, if you tell people you are going to a fancy dress party as a fairy, one will wonder if you have a magic wand in hand…or you have a fetish for one! Catch the drift?

And those of you who love croaking, oops…I mean, karaoke-ing, especially if you are a guy and love the Carpenters (Yup! Cibol and gang! Bet you all know one such person? LOL!), avoid “Jambalaya” at all cost, as the lyrics go:

“Pick guitar, fill fruit jar and be GAY-o! Son of a gun, we’ll have big fun on the bayou!”

P.S.: And you can ask your Foochow-speaking friend what “Ba-You” means in the dialect. LOL!!!

My first tag…

Gosh…I’ve barely started and now I’ve been tagged, thanks to some unpretentious individual!!! Thank God it’s a simple one and not one of those with very awkward questions. So, Man-D, here goes…

~~Begin Copy~~

This is the easy way and the fastest way to :
1. Make your Authority Technorati explode
2. Increase your Google Page Rank.
3. Get more traffic to your blog.
4. Make more new friends.

Rules :
1. Start copy from “Begin Copy” until “End Copy” to your blog.
2. Put your own blog name and link.
3. Tag your friends as much as you can.

Picturing of Life
Juliana’s Site
Shower Your Children With Love – The Right Way
Life’s a journey, not a destination
Simple Life
Life is beautiful; Life is love
Lovely Mummy
Lemonjude
Faith,Hope,Love
Newife Blog
Good things in life…
…the Guru-Guru life…
ezooone@seweng
Emelda
Unpretentious Me

Sense & Senility

~~ End Copy ~~

Like dat? Oops…mine not linked! Never mind! If u are reading this, u are already in my blog! Wakakakakakaka!!!! And I’m nice guy, don’t wanna tag anybody (Truth is dunno how! ROTFLMAO!!)

Update: Hooray!!! Linked already!!!! Who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks???

Friends…

In my younger years, I had an album by country singer Glen Campbell entitled “Galveston”, a black vinyl LP (long-play record of around 10-12 songs) and my favourites were “Take my hand for awhile” and “Friends”.  The latter’s a spoken/talking song; with the strains of “Danny Boy” in the background, Glen Campbell, instead of singing, recited the lyrics.  The lines may originally be from a poem but I’ve always thought they are very meaningful and hence, I’d like to share them with you… 

Friends are never earned. They are gifts from the loving God and they are precious beyond human evaluation. But you dare not take them for granted or they’ll driift away like smoke and the warmth of their caring will vanish into the chill of the endless nights…

Who is your friend? He’s someone who warms you with a nod or with an unspoken word in hard times when you’re hurting beyond words.

Who is your friend? He’s someone who holds you to his breast and sighs softly into your hair when no other medicine could possibly stop the pain.

A friend is someone who clinks his glass against yours or answers the phone at three in the morning when you’re lost and with a few words of encouragement and concern makes you realize that you’re not really lost at all.

Friends come in both sexes and in all shapes and sizes. The most important thing they have in common is their ability to share with you your most sky splitting joys or your deepest most awesome sorrows …for they are your friends.

To all my friends, this is specially for you. 

Sometimes…

Sometimes, God breaks our soul to save our spirit.

Sometimes, He breaks our heart to make us whole.

Sometimes, He sends us pain so we can be stronger.

Sometimes, He sends us failure so we can be humble.

Sometimes, He sends us illness so we can take better care of ourselves.

Sometimes, He takes everything away from us so we can learn the value of everything we have.

A Blessed Easter to one and all!

High…

Bongkersz posted a video in his blog featuring Lighthouse Family’s HIGH a day or two ago.  I have always liked the band especially the first album, if I’m not mistaken, it was the first, POSTCARD FROM HEAVEN or something and I particularly love the song LOST IN SPACE.  Well, I’m not going to post the video here (Truth betold, I don’t know how!), so if you want to watch, you can go to bongkersz.com or search for it on youtube.

Now, what I am going to share is a story that the title of the song brings to mind.  I had a collection of books by S.H.Tan, but people borrowed from me and did not return, so now I only have one left! @#$%&+#!! I can recall a story in one of them about this Mat Salleh woman who went to a tailor in KL. She wanted to have a dress made.

Now, while the tailor was taking her measurements, she kept telling him, “More high! More high!” Mini skirts were in fashion at the time, you see. But the tailor kept shaking his head and gesturing to indicate the negative.  The woman was furious and started to raise her voice, “MORE HIGH! MORE HIGH!” The poor man had no choice so he obliged and instantly received a slap on his face. A fight ensued…until the police came to the scene to settle the matter.

The tailor told the police everything that had transpired while the Mat Salleh was frantically demanding that justice be done! Finally, everything was sorted out. The police officer explained to the Mat Salleh woman that it was all a misunderstanding. “You see, M’am,” he said, “MORE HIGH in Cantonnese means to touch the private part, so the tailor was merely carrying out your instruction…”

Disclaimer: I don’t know Cantonese and this was what I read in the book, so if MORE HIGH means some other thing, then I will hold no responsibility for that. LOL!!!

After the love has gone…

While browsing, I came across a few teacher-bloggers, and what troubles me most of all is that more often than not, they seem disillusioned and have lost their passion for the vocation.

Why this sad state of affairs, one may ask? Maybe it’s the workload. Maybe it’s the money, the lack of recognition given – especially when other less-deserving ones get what they are craving for or maybe the sense of achievement does not seem to be forthcoming, especially when the students are so weak and are not inclined to learn anything at all.

For one thing, if a teacher is merely going through the motions, teaching for the sake of teaching while waiting for pay day, the students will feel it and they will respond the same way. On the other hand, if a teacher puts his heart and soul in it, the students will sense it and appreciate it, even the weak or ill-disciplined ones. Why do students behave like monkeys in one teacher’s class – despite the endless scolding and caning and yet, they are comparatively much better behaved in another teacher’s class?

Teaching is a relationship – a relationship between teacher and students. Like all relationships, e.g. that of lovers or a husband and wife, what you can get out of it depends on what you put in it. If you can be selfless and look beyond personal comfort and material gains, you will find it more rewarding, that’s for sure.

In another of my English book, I had a passage on two brothers and one of them, a teacher, died…and the last paragraph reads: “…At Tommy’s funeral, there was standing room only in the cathedral – young and old, men and women, all of them his friends and students.  It made me contemplate on the meaning of our existence in this world.  Some people had power, wealth, status; but they often went about their lives in selfish pursuits.  Then there were people like Tommy.  He had none of those – no monuments built in his honour, no titles bestowed, no streets named – nothing but the memory of what he was would remain eternally in everyone’s hearts.  He was their friend, their teacher; he was my brother.“

On 2nd December, 2007, I retired. I was 55…and a student sent me an sms which touched me more than anything. It read:

“Students hardly know or guess…the love their teacher can’t express. With thoughts he seldom says aloud, his heart is warm, his feelings proud.  They do not fully understand his wisdom, guiding hand, each helpful word, holding love unspoken, hope unheard.  Yet as the busy years roll past, they come to understand at last, the worries he knew, the problem times he pulled them through and realise how great it’s been to have a teacher just like him.  With love and thanks for being such a wonderful teacher. Happy Birthday.”

The day a teacher receives something like this, he will feel that it is worth all the blood, sweat and tears he has put in his vocation through the years…and he can be proud to call himself – a teacher. I certainly hope this will motivate and inspire those who need it.