Pieces of me………

It had been raining heavily for 3 hours, finally the rain stopped and i sent Iris back. The weather was cold and nice, I decided to wind down the windows and take the longer route back home. Dora asked me why, I just wanted to enjoy the cold gentle breeze as I drove along the quiet road that was always busy and polluted during the day.

I passed by Fiona’s college, was about to turn left when BAANNGGGG! the car jerked. My heart sank. Knowing the quality of my old proton saga, I was expecting to see the back of my car badly damaged. I got off the car, wanting to scream at the other driver when I saw his car. It was smashed, the front lights of his car was smashed into pieces, the front portion was badly dented, I turned to look at my own car and realised that it was still very much in one piece. For a while, I was surprised and impressed with my own car.

Never involved in an accident before, i was not sure of my next move.

Him: "Sorry lah ah moi, aku tak sengaja."

Me: "So macam mana sekarang?" ( inside: I look that chinese meh? )

Him: " You ambil nombor I lah, lepas lu ketuk balik lu punya kereta, saya bayar balik"

Me: "Betul ke ni?" (could I trust him?)

Him: " Aku kerja kat UPM, u ingat nombor kereta I lah, miscall saya sekarang lah, gua tak tipu lu punya."

So i took down his number and let him go. Honestly speaking, i really did not know what was the right thing to do. It was midnight, both Dora and I were not properly dressed, we were in our house coat, it was raining and i did not want to ask for trouble….besides, i sort of felt sorry for him because his car was so badly damaged.

This morning, I checked on my car, the damage was not that bad, the bumper was abit dented and the shattered glass pieces from his car cut into my car. I went to the workshop to ask for a quotation and it was around RM 80 to get the car mended.

I will call him later to sort things out, hopefully, he will pay for the damage. =)

i guess i will think twice again next time before taking the longer route back home, but then again, i guess i should thank God that the accident was a minor one….and yeah I love my old WCN 2708!

For the past 2 weeks, a person gives you a cold shoulder. The person does not initiate any conversations, does not show interest in anything related to you…and then today sends you an sms that tells that you are loved……i just don’t know how to respond.

Perhaps the problem is me myself,maybe i have this pride problem that makes it difficult to respond. Part of me wants to express that i do appreciate that kind of message but another part of me remains in doubt. Yes indeed, i am still hurt and i cannot deny on that one. Goodness………arrrrrggggghhhhhhhhh!!!!!!

I was 21 years old when I first saw a sex worker. She was probably in her mid-30’s. She was clad in a pair of running shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt. There were rashes all over her body except for her face which was dry and wrinkled. She was eating in a shop with her customer and I felt disgusted towards him. His hands were touching all over her thighs. I wondered if he was that desperate to that extend, that any girl would do as long as he could satisfy his lust. Probable he was stingy too, that’s why he chose her.

I felt pity for her. She looked so damaged and fake. She forced a smile each time he put his hands on her legs and tried her very best to keep the conversations going. I am not fluent in Cantonese but I could catch a word of two. I wondered if he had a wife, why was he so horny, “Si Lang Mo Ki Chiew” I thought to myself. A term used by my mother to describe men who were horny and loved to molest women.

I wondered why she did this to herself. Why damage her own body? I wondered how did she feel each time she looked into the mirror.

Today, as I accompanied a few youths on a guided tour into the red light areas of Bukit Bintang, I remembered that lady. Our mission tonight was to observe the sex workers and the activities that took place in the heart of Kuala Lumpur at night. Brother Raj our guide took us to the areas where such activities were high. He gave a little explanation on the background of the spots. Some areas were picking up points for young and beautiful ladies while certain areas were popular for cheap retired ladies.

Retired ladies can be as young as 22 years old, they are those whose bodies are no longer beautiful and fail to generate high amount of income for the pimps. These women either have lost their attractiveness or have failed to satisfy their customers on bed or have contacted certain sexually transmitted diseases such as AIDS. Though they are unappealing, these women are still in demand for those who want cheap and quick sex. Young boys and inexperienced men who are naive on matters related to this trade sometimes are cheated by the pimps and they end up with these women as well.

I asked Brother how these women ended up in such trades. His reply struck me. He said: ‘Nobody in the right sense of mind would choose a like this.’ Many are forced into this trade. Some were betrayed by their own friends and loved ones, some came in to repay debts (their own or husband’s/ boyfriend’s), some were forced into it, and some were cheated…..and so on and so forth. Those who came in voluntarily thought things were simple; they never expected the situation to become so complicated.

I had many things in my mind but what I think troubled me the most was the retired sex workers. Some are as young as 22 years old, an age where people are just beginning to appreciate and experience the beauty of life. Girls at this age, meet boyfriends that pamper and love them, these women don’t even get to feel loved. Some girls at 22 are experiencing campus life, meeting new friends, learning new things. These women have nothing much to discover except for the men who treats them as objects and toy that satisfies their lust. A girl at 22, knows what it feels to be home, to be able to enjoy the company of their parents and siblings. These women’s families might not even know their whereabouts; some might have even been rejected by their own families. At the age of 22, life is so broken, so miserable. They might have earned a lot of money but probable 70% of their income went to the pimps and agents. Lets say they have RM 10 000 in their account, so what? They can’t even use the money to enjoy life or even go for a holiday, because someone is watching them. If I were in their shoes for one day, I don’t think I could even survive, what more for the next 10, 20, 30years of their lives? What did they do to deserve a life like this?

Many people call sex workers cheap and give them many names, but do we really understand the pain that they are going through?

Nature at work in a polluted pond at the Farm

Before I let memories fly by, I guess I ought to share some sweet memories which I experienced while I was in Sarawak early July this year

This is an Iban longhouse along Sg. Lemanak, it’s called Rumah Anding in Telinting. Until today, I have difficulty remembering all the names of the villages and the rumah panjangs that I have visited. What I remember most vividly is the name of the Lemanak river. The people who live along this river are mainly pure Ibans and the culture and practices of the Iban tribe still remains strong among it’s people. Though some of them still believe in their own traditional "Gods and Spirits", many have converted into Christianity (mainly Anglicans) or the Bahai Religion. Unlike the other longhouses, Rumah Anding has a "no alcohol policy". The occupants of this house do not drink alcohol as it brings harm to the human body. Therefore, we were not served with "Tuak" the traditional rice wine upon our arrival.

Along the rivers of Sg.Lemanak, you can only find boats that are as long as this one. Such boats are the only mode of transport of the people around here. The boat has to be this long because the "Lemanak" river is very shallow, the deepest part of the river is only up to knee length. Very often, the boat gets stuck between the rocks and the passangers will have to push the boat off the rocks before we continue our journey. The The journey to our destination took us 3 hours but i enjoyed it.

It is a culture among the Ibans to welcome their guest with food and "tuak’. For every Iban longhouses that we visited, we were served with appetizers, together with ‘tuak’ served individually by the host followed by lunch. The people of the longhouse were very generous and were proud of the food they served. The rice and vegetables they served were either planted by themselves or picked from the jungle. The fish they served was what they caught from the river. Meals were delicious because what was served came right from the heart of the host "penuh dengan kasih sayang".

If you have never drank alcohol, I would suggest that you don’t act macho when drinking ‘Tuak’, it has a very strong content of alcohol. Let your host know that you can’t drink alot so that they don’t pour too much into your cup. It is very rude and offensive to make funny faces and not finish whatever that is being served. However, if you are an alcohol drinker, i think you would enjoy ‘Tuak’. It’s sweet, abit like ‘Tapai’ but slightly stronger.

Lucky guest will also get to participate in a small fellowship whereby the host family will perform the Ngajat (traditional warrior dance) and also teach you how to dance. I was a total hopeless case when it came to the Ngajat…..Weak knees and stiff body…..my host family found me amusing instead.

People of Sg. Lemanak are lovely people, very hospitable and humble. Though I was only there for 1 night, i made alot of new friends among the adults despite having some language problem. The only sad thing was that the majority of the villagers have aged, the young have moved on with their lives in the city and only visit their folks during festive seasons. Greedy loggers and irresponsible authorities have also been a pain in the lives of these people. They destroy the jungles that surrounds these villages at the expense of the people of Sg. Lemanak for the sake of logging and their own wealth…..Hope that was not my first last visit to my dear Iban friends…….special thanks to Khiro and our host family in ‘Rumah Anjan’ for being a great guide.

Ps.Kindly correct me if you think my contents and opinions is wrong.

Prescribed by the Great Physician

With all that is happening before our very own eyes. I really wonder if the ethnicity course is the cure. I used to travel by bus to work and i have always witness how people (including university students) show their disrespect towards people of other races. It’s not common to hear racist remarks made by friends against their neighbors, course mates or colleagues. Most of the time, misunderstandings which occur because of people’s behavior and attitude somehow ends up being a racial problem because people tend to blame a particular race for the problems and not the attitude.

Take for example the very recent UPM case.

The problem: Some Students tried to open a recruitment counter. Another group of students did not like to see the counter there, so they tried to spoil the event. This is an Attitude problem.

It so happen that the students who opened the counter were Chinese and the trouble makers were Malays, so now from what i have been reading and hearing, it seems to be a racial problem and not an attitude problem. People are condemning the Malays and calling them Monkeys and idiots. Many students have negative perception towards the Malays. The ironic thing is that many do not even know who the culprits are. Aren’t we just as bad? We are definitely not being fair towards the Malays……it was the students who were involved that are problematic, not the Malays for goodness sake.

Now back to the ethnicity course issue. i doubt it going to help people change their negative perception towards other races (if they are already narrow minded and bias). Not at this age. 20 year olds are people who have already developed a certain mindset. Do you think it’s that easy to change ones mindset? Personally i think it would be like asking a COW TO MOVE OFF THE ROAD.

Look at what happen to our Moral classes? I wonder how many people behave well these day because of the Moral lessons. ……..on 2ND thoughts, maybe the ethnicity course will help those who love memorising answers get an extra A…..suddenly I’m speechless…..

Yesterday, i received a letter regarding a bully case in campus. I was not too surprised. I thought to myself, well….it’s just another case. Today, I received the video clip of that incident and I am deeply troubled by it. Of course, I feel sorry for the students who became the victims of the incident but what worried me most was the way the bullies attacked them. It was so…….so….ruthless, uncivilized, so unscholarly. I can’t believe that such a case could happen in a UNIVERSITY, the IVORY TOWER of Malaysia. God help our nation.

This group of Chinese students had a recruitment counter in the college cafe when a bunch (around 30) students came to disrupt their operation. They said they did not like to see them opening the counter there and started to make fun of them. They took off their shoes and put it in front of the student’s face for them to smell, they shouted rude words. They pushed a guy off his chair and also pushed some people around. I was speechless when i saw the video and afraid, afraid of what would become of our universities.
No actions has been taken against these bullies, the ones to suffer are the victims. The law does not protect them. So in future, who is going to survive in campus? The loud mouths and the bullies? if you dare, you can do whatever you want? Oppressed the timid and harmless ones who choose peace against violence? This is scary man, whatever happens in the university is going to happen in our society because these fellas are gonna graduate one day and perhaps be the director of some company or government department and they are going to do the same thing they did to others if no one takes any action to teach them that what they are doing all these while is so wrong.

It is love when…….

Your roomate cleans up the room because she knows that you are expecting a guest to sleep over tonight.

Your housemates collect your clothes when it’s dry

Your housemate buys a bigger packet of food so that she can share it with you

Your neighbor parks his car and leaves enough space for you to park your car

Your favorite nasi lemak seller gives you extra ikan bilis sambal in your nasi lemak because he knows you suka makan pedas

Your friend makes an extra effort to call or sms you to ask if you need a ride

Your friend who is really tired decides to stay back and keep you company

Your friend who has already eaten accompanies you while you have your meal

Your friend takes an effort to sms you to ask how are you or replies your sms

Someone decides to join you and gives you a helping hand so that you can get  your job done

Your friend tells you of for your stupid acts

Your friend does not allow you to go on doing the wrong things because she knows

it’s not right

Very often we take others and their thoughtful acts for granted. We are so

pampered sometimes that we forget to thank and appreciate people for the little kind acts. We become angry when our friends could not find time to do these little favors for us, as if it is their responsibility to pamper us………..
Sigh…..recently I was out with some people, there were many….about 40 of us, all from different campuses.  We went out as a group and we were suppose to know each other. I asked 3 fellas to help me carry some stuff and the 3 fellas did help out. It was alot to carry and guess what, the other 36 just looked without taking any initiative to help the other 3 fellas.
I was kindda sad actually, i wondered what was actually in these people’s head. Where’s the initiative? What’s so difficult about lifting your finger to lighten other people’s burden? That was not the first incident, i have witness many more of such instances in different occasions…..i just wonder what has become of our humanity? We have become a selfish bunch of people who only care about ourselves and nothing else……..so sad lah

This is the most exciting month In my life. Opportunities came and i graped it. I used to deprive myself of trying out new things just because i was afraid that others would disapprove of it. This time, I had the courage to be confident of my own choices and decisions and I have no regrets of making that move.

The excitement first started when I left for the National Camp….many things happened during the camp but what made the greatest impact in me during the camp was my four days stay with Rakhi and her family. Rakhi is an Orang Asli who lives in Kpg Tanah Gembur, Tangkak. Living with her family for four days thought me alot of things. I learned to appreciate the simplicity in life, to be humble and to respect nature as it is. I learned to be less naive towards the authorities. Rakhi’s family thought me to be more sensitive towards the cry of the marginalized and to be a less selfish person. I was truly grateful for the experience this family gave me and I hope to visit these friends of mine in time to come.

While I was there, I was lucky enough to taste many exotic food. I ate papaya leaves cooked with cili padi (Truly bitter), pucuk ubi (not my 1st time lah), pucuk rebung (I learned how to cook it), ikan keli (I also learned how to cook it), tupai (it was…..hmmmm okie but i think it would taste better if it was not soup) and musang ( I love it, very tasty lorrr)…..Rakhi’s mum said they used to eat rats but not anymore because these days, most of the rats are exposed to pesticides and that they might be poisonous…..(In my head was eerrrr….phew)

I felt so much at home in Kpg Tanah Gembur that I felt abit sad to leave on my fourth day…..there’s so much experience to share but I guess I will keep some for my next blog.

Coming up next……my trip to Sg Lemanak, Sarawak, Kpg Gayu -A bidayuh villige near Kuching, Rainforest festival……….

The Absurdity of English
We’ll begin with a box, and the plural is boxes,
but the plural of ox became oxen not oxes.

One fowl is a goose, but two are called geese,

yet the plural of moose should never be meese.

You may find a lone mouse or a nest full of mice,
yet the plural of house is houses, not hice.

If the plural of man is always called men,

why shouldn’t the plural of pan be called pen?

If I spoke of my foot and show you my feet,

and I give you a boot, would a pair be called beet?

If one is a tooth and a whole set are teeth,
why shouldn’t the plural of booth be called beeth?

Then one may be that, and three would be those,

yet hat in the plural would never be hose,

and the plural of cat is cats, not cose.

We speak of a brother and also of brethren,

but though we say mother, we never say methren.

Then the masculine pronouns are he, his and him,

but imagine the feminine, she, shis and shim.

Let’s face it - English is a crazy language.
There is no egg in eggplant nor ham in hamburger;
neither apple nor pine in pineapple.
English muffins weren’t invented in England.
We take English for granted.

But if we explore its paradoxes, we find that
quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square,
and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.

And why is it that writers write but fingers don’t fing,
grocers don’t groce and hammers don’t ham?

Doesn’t it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend?

If you have a bunch of odds and ends and get rid of all but one
of them, what do you call it?
If teachers taught, why didn’t preachers praught?

If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat?

Sometimes I think all the folks who grew up speaking English
should be committed to an asylum for the verbally insane.

In what other language do people recite at a play and
play at a recital?
We ship by truck but send cargo by ship.

We have noses that run and feet that smell.

And how can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same,
while a wise man and a wise guy are opposites?

You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language
in which your house can burn up as it burns down,
in which you fill in a form by filling it out,
and in which an alarm goes off by going on.

So if Father is Pop, how come Mother isn’t Mop