Tuesday, December 31, 2019

Vision 2020

My generation was raised on this, when Tun M was Prime Minister the first time around.

2020 was supposed to be THE year that Malaysia becomes a developed nation.

In less that an hour, that date will come: 01.01.2020

unfortunately however, we are nowhere near developed nation status- we are 'developing' at best.

We have not improved our salary scale, or working conditions, or national productivity [much],

Our currency is not competitive... our national products below par,

Our school education system is still ingrained with the rote system despite the direction the rest of the world is moving towards (I would argue that this is 50-60% true),

The higher education system is focused on OBE (outcome-based-education) and the implementers (in my School/ Department at least) are as pedantic as hell,

We Our politicians are STILL bickering along racially tainted lines,

The Malaysian identity is as elusive as ever, 62 years after we yelled "Merdeka" from British rule,

We wish we were united

and many more.









I was also taught about hope, and the strength of the human spirit.

We will become developed as a nation ONE day, it's just not today.

Friday, December 27, 2019

Level 9

There is a place at the office where I come to work in peace.

It is the highest point of Phase 1 (of the campus construction). It houses the postgraduate lounge (in one section) and overlooks the plains of TPM (if you can call it that) in another section.

Best place to work, ever. I could stay there for hours and be invisible. No one looks for me there. It can be a bit noisy at points in between classes, as the students circulate, but essentially negligible.


Kak Ani

Hubby's sister has a fantastic attitude towards cooking/ food preparation.

She would just whip something up in the kitchen from scratch. In mere minutes.

She would wake up and take a couple of things from the fridge & voila, fried noodles will be served.

Even preparing nasi kerabu for a party of 30 appear to be a breeze.

I marvel at her enthusiasm, ability and total efficiency.

If I could be even at 10% of her capacity, I would be a reasonable cook.

Do not ask the same of me, as you will be hugely disappointed [message to hubby].


Bonus Round

Amy is a colleague from work. She is in her late 30s. Amy's former university mate is in a coma after losing consciousness in her sleep. Her friend had been busy with the preparations to go the UK- her husband had been offered a placement for PhD- and they had uprooted temporarily from Malaysian soil & brought their 2 children along. Once they reached the UK, she had cooked and entertained Malaysian students there. 2 days later, Amy's friend lost consciousness in her sleep and is now in induced coma. Reason unknown. I do hope that she will make it through, for her family's sake. For her husband & her two young children.

Earlier this month, a family of four was involved in a fatal accident while traveling to New Zealand. Their youngest daughter (11 years old) survived- as the only remaining member of the family. Her mother, father and 2 elder sisters perished in the accident. It was heart-rending to read that this young child had wanted to stay in NZ (with her family) & not return home to Malaysia.

How very precious, and yet how fleeting life is. Treasure every moment, every breath. Living life above 45. Blessed.






Sunday, December 08, 2019

Blog Meets World

Like Selena Gomez releasing her single one year after Justin Bieber's marriage, I would probably release my blog to the world after I change jobs. [The big question is: Will I change jobs? So if I do not change jobs, will this blog never see the light of day?]

Now, let's over analyse in over drive [Emphasis on the word 'over' is intentional]

One possibility is: I will get exposure and a few people may be implicated: Mr Ex, current hubby, my children, some friends & some former co-workers. All will forgive me I hope, as some events and feelings and comments have long past. Taken contextually, they would be seen as historical anecdotes (or products of my overactive mind [See, I am 'over' everything].

Another possibility is: No one will have the time to read my uninteresting posts. They would read perhaps the latest ones and will not delve into entries that started from 2005, for example. If I improve my writing, a small number may be interested to read the next few days/ months/ years posts. However, essentially this blog will be a blip on the radar & then forgotten. And I would be retired by then. Living in peace with beloved hubby.

In the circumstances, Scenario 2 will be most likely. My overthinking [and somewhat overconfident] self considers Scenario 1 more possible, whenever a thought about launching this blog public comes about. Factually and realistically, I had made 2 attempts on November 2018 & November 2019's nanowrimo, and I had emerged none the wiser [as I obviously did not follow through and completed the writings] so I do not consider myself a writer by any stretch of the imagination ERGO my blog is actually very syok sendiri wannn.

[Regardless,] At this moment this blog will remain in obscurity. Thank you very much.

Into the Future

* A work of Fiction *

It was another new morning, another day. An announcement was made over the media: that the last few barrels of oil will be depleted & no new reserve have been discovered. Oil is now extinct.

Despite news as early as 2020 that the oil will run out, no one was completely ready to process and embrace the news. Yes there had been development of alternative energy as early as the 1990s. Yes many cars are in fact running on the roads with electric and kinetic energy. Yet a large part of the world is still running on black gold.

Yet in 2052 the news came quite as a shock. Not quite. I take it back. More of an 'inconvenience' instead of a shock.

* * *
Caleb had been outside cutting wood. His sister Sue was nearby collecting dried twigs. "Susannah, do not wander too far." Using his big brother authority. Mum does that sometimes, call them by their full names. When they have done something wrong- or about to.  Light was disappearing in the forthcoming dusk and soon they will be called home by mum. Today Caleb decided that he will be preempt the call home. He gathered the firewood and started calling out again to Sue, who had both hands full with twigs of different lengths- some do not look completely dried. Caleb, despite just having started third grade himself, is in charge of looking after 5 year old Sue as mum cooks dinner at home. He takes the job very seriously and Sue was his ticket to be outdoors- he doesn't like to be cooped up in the house too much.

As they approached the house the wafting smell of dinner made his tummy growl. Father had just taken his bath and was at his table, updating the community website. Eli their eldest had just gotten the fireplace crackling. Mary and Liz are busy in the kitchen helping mum prepare dinner. "Cal, once you have cleaned yourself up please help us set the table" he heard Liz call out as soon as he entered the house. 'kay' was his reply, the o silent. Sue set her twigs down next to Caleb's freshly cut logs. Mary came out of the kitchen and took Sue by the hand- 'let's get you cleaned up' and motioned to Caleb to get himself moving too.

Father spoke up, while still engrossed in writing on his computer: "World supply of petrol extinct by 2055- How will your world change?". He was reading a headline from the news. "Well I reckon not much". Father tells us things without telling us things. "I won't miss the Internet too much" he added looking thoughtful.

* * *

The meeting for the Organisation of Petroleum Exporting Countries was called to order. The Chair has an important task to do today: pass a motion on the dissolution of the Organisation.

Saudi and Brunei had had diversified their investment in other businesses for many decades. Way ahead and way before new entrants, as the latter struggled to do oil exploration using massive foreign investments. As these investments are paid out they realised that they have not invested much in sustainable energy, or redevelopment of their country. Blood money pass hands amongst corrupted officials, and their citizens lay barren in need of basic amenities. Central Asian countries are now oozing money, as their uranium powers the world.

The Chair knew that this day will come. When the world will literally quiet down as the energy source depletes. The OPEC building itself is solar powered. Its staff have been offered separation schemes. Some decided to work in alternative energy projects.

* * *

In the tropics: sun shines brightly & solar energy

* * *

Community farms and kerosene to light up at night. Tree planting for wood fire.

* * *

Roads emptier. Bicycles sale soars. Horse riding and horse carriages industry develop?

* * *

What else would happen?



Friday, December 06, 2019

Melissa the Paraglider

This entry is based on this article published in the Malay Mail: https://www.malaymail.com/news/malaysia/2019/11/09/malaysians-swamp-real-life-paragliders-instagram-after-name-mentioned-in-sp/1808430

The SPM students, after their English exam, had swamped a paraglider's instagram page with various comments (mostly irrelevant) just because ....? [Was that English question difficult?]

Melissa the paraglider had been graceful and tactful in her reply, which puts all of us Malaysians to shame: https://www.thestar.com.my/news/nation/2019/11/13/spm-question-catapults-british-artist-into-m039sian-social-media-spotlight

To SPM candidates of 2019: her name is Laura lah. Melissa is her middle name. Tak relevan. Move on. Take a good look at yourself, do some serious thinking and GROW UP.

What have we become: a nation of non-thinking brutes? They did not even need to send any messages to Melissa because she does not owe them anything. It is not okay to be a bully.



In another unrelated event (except that it still relates to SPM), a huge crowd of motorbikers and one BMW stormed the streets of Malacca to celebrate their freedom: https://www.worldofbuzz.com/spm-students-drive-bmw-ride-motorbikes-recklessly-in-melaka-to-celebrate-end-of-exams/

How are we raising our children these days? I am one to blame too, if my children behave this way.


So, you spam someone's insta account just because of a coincidence and become a danger to other road users the moment you finish the exams.


We seriously need to re-look at either our parenting strategy, or the national education system.

Am I a Lecturer or a Clerk? [That is the Question]

The exam paper has been reviewed by my peer (a member of my module team) on 29 November.

It is probably one of the star papers for me this year, as I am finally able to submit it ONE WEEK ahead of time. [Backstory: I had always had to cope with work and volumes of classes taught and marking and meetings and events and development work, that my exam papers almost always are submitted just a few days before the due date.]

As per procedure, the approved paper goes to the academic leader:

On 3 December:
- please change the Verification Form (it has additional signature section & one more yes/no question)
- please give the marks breakdown for the marking scheme
- add the date and month and year of exam at the footer

Done & emailed on 5 December

Her reply today- this is not the verification form and this is not the way to write the date and month and year. And 2 more emails follow: one attaching the correct verification form & the other attaching the correct way to write the date/month/year

WHY DON'T YOU TELL ME THE RIGHT WAY IN THE FIRST PLACE

So my paper was submitted on the due date of 6 December 2019. Yay for me.

From Lawyer
To Lecturer
To Clerk

I wonder if working elsewhere is this demeaning.


Lessons from War

This entry will present 3 different aspects of war: the Nagasaki nuclear bombing, the Death Railway & the return of Chin Peng's ashes. Not in any order of importance, but by chronology of my brush with the respective stories.



Firstly, me and my daughters had attended a public talk hosted by University Malaya Kuala Lumpur on 12 October 2019, by invitation of my sister in law who works at their Department of East Asian Studies.  The Atomic Bombing Storyteller Project representatives had been invited by the department to present the stories of Nagasaki nuclear bombing survivors. 

In the Japanese language the society is known as Towa no kai (Society for Perpetual Remembrance/ Eternal Memories): they relate stories from the experiences of the atomic bomb survivors and impart the message of world peace. Ms Junko Shiratori and Ms Kazumi Kai were 2 storytellers who related the collective stories of 4 survivors of the Nagasaki nuclear bombing.

The stories were about what happened on the day & the days that followed. One survivor in fact lived on to beyond his 80th year and had children of his own. The nuclear bomb dropped in Nagasaki on that fateful date changed the direction of the war and the world we live in forever. Hiroshima and Nagasaki citizens experienced something that no human has, or had ever went through.

One of the more vivid photos shown was this one: a clock that stopped at 11.02am i.e. the time of bombing:
Image result for nagasaki clock 11.02 am
https://c8.alamy.com/comp/EXXEX6/clock-hands-frozen-at-1102am-the-time-of-the-atomic-bomb-explosion-EXXEX6.jpg

Granted, war is despicable in more than one way. And the memories (or rather, trauma) of war will linger for many years to come- similar to the survivor stories of the Japanese occupation in Malaya. In fact, one of the parting words of Ms Kai were "In war, there are no winners".

One of the questions asked during the Q&A session was: Do the Japanese hate the Americans for doing this (bombing)? In its innocence, that was quite a complex question. I would probably ask a question in place of an answer: Do the Malaysians hate the Japanese (for invading us during the war)? The presenters answered (as expected & within the context of the academic forum) that Japan had gone on to have good diplomatic relations with America and the rest of the world, and the work immediately after the bombing was much focused on rebuilding the country (instead of hate >> this one I added myself, by inference)



One month later, on 18 October 2019, a colleague from the International Relations faculty invited me to attend a talk by Professor David Boggett of Kyoto Seika University about Survivors of The Death Railway. Our Vice Chancellor opened the session by sharing how memorials have been built for Prisoners of War as far afoot as his home country of Australia (which have not been directly invaded) YET there is very limited evidence of such nature in Malaysia, which HAD in fact been invaded, with hundreds of thousands of its people becoming workers who had built the railway.

This episode in our history, according to Professor Boggett, appear to be least documented (or not at all). There were different accounts by different people: on how many had actually worked on the railway. When the war ended, the records were destroyed by the Japanese. What was left were mass graves and the settlements with emaciated survivors. By these reasons, no specific number of workers can be ascertained but for a mere estimation. From Malaya alone there was suspected to be 100,000-250,000 workers involved.

What the researchers do know, there seem to be 2 categories of workers: the PoWs and the non-PoWs. The non-PoWs had been gathered from various parts of Malaya, Indonesia and Myanmar using different methods. The Malays were gathered using the sweetener of free entertainment- they were treated to a free movie night and once the movie ended, they were rounded up on a lorry and brought to a central point (I believe it was Dataran Merdeka) before being transported to the work area. The Chinese were offered 'lucrative work' and the promotion appear to have been done via their chambers of commerce. The Indian community from the estate was lured by the promise of work at a new & promising location.

None of them were paid. They were hardly given any food or medication, and it is believed that they would have dropped dead like flies. Once dead, their bodies were thrown in the river or into mass unnamed graves. After the war, efforts were made by the respective governments to trace their citizens, but many were missing. Some chose to stay in Thailand or Myanmar and not return.

The PoWs on the other hand, were believed to not have suffered as badly, since they had better knowledge of the environment as well as their own camps which enabled them to communicate with the others. The workers unfortunately were divided and due to the differences in language, were unable to interact with other workers.

One of the guests during the talk was Mr Francis Ng of Ipoh, who at 3 years old was taken to Kanchanaburi. His father was a mechanic working on the project. Based on his story, it would appear that his father and a few others were categorised as 'skilled workers' who work the technical aspects of the construction. His father did not suffer scolding or being hit by the Japanese soldiers. Their camp, he says, was comfortable and he had enough food, even rice. Once a month he and his grandmother was allowed to return to Malaya to purchase supplies to be sold in camp. At the end of the war, Francis and his family returned to settle down in Ipoh. What was vivid in his young mind was the graves surrounding the camps. They grew and grew with more and more people thrown in. He had said "I cannot remember what I had for breakfast and lunch, but I remember the images and the experiences at camp many years ago".



Finally, we come to the story about the return of Chin Peng's ashes. He was a Communist leader in Malaya, who led an army to kick out the Japanese. After the war he and the Communist Army created chaos by trying to drive out the British from our country, using extreme violence. More people died during the Communist Insurgence, especially those in the armed forces and the police (and many Chinese too). One of the most documented assassination was that of Sir Henry Gurney at Fraser's Hill.

It was a time of fear and uncertainty, and until the 1980s certain areas are still inaccessible to the public. I remembered in 1982, when passing Bentong on the way back to Pasir Mas Kelantan (my mom's kampung), we had to pass the area before 6pm because at night there is a curfew.

After much havoc caused in Malaya, Chin Peng fled/ was exiled to Thailand forbidden to ever return to Malaysia. He died in Thailand & literally him or his remains was not allowed to ever set foot in Malaysia.

Recently a few people had brought back Chin Peng's ashes to be scattered in his hometown https://www.thestar.com.my/news/nation/2019/11/26/chin-peng039s-ashes-brought-back-to-malaysia-in-september. Various views were given (some very strongly against the return of his ashes). One of the more interesting views was this: if some communist leaders were allowed to return (like Shamsiah Fakeh and Rashid Maidin), then why should Chin Peng's ashes (in death) be banned?

Me, I prefer to ask questions. Chin Peng, was he a hero or a foe? The latter because he caused many people to be killed: his kin, his fellow Malaysians, disrupted their way of life after the British had promised us Independence. Yet in his mind, he is as patriotic and nationalistic as ever.

Contextually, this next story came from Chris my colleague, whose father was an army doctor who played a role as one of the pioneers of the Terendak Army Hospital in Malacca. As a child, he said, he used to remember his father getting dressed to go to work in full army fatigue. He never used to ask and his dad never used to tell him anything about work. Many years later, he was invited as his father's representative to commemorate Terendak Hospital's anniversary. From the accounts of his late father's surviving peers, he had realised the danger his father had been in, all those evenings when he had stepped out for 'work'. Chris is one of those persons strongly opposed to bringing back Chin Peng's ashes, regardless. He had caused great pain to the country and its people, hence should remain in exile for eternity.



Hence I now come to my conclusion: War has told its many tales, many still painful to the people affected. Yet we have not learnt our lessons. We still wage war and we still cause pain, for victory, for land, for dignity, for national pride. Rightly or wrongly waged, war has its price. There are children made parent-less, citizens displaced and oppressed, and of course the rebuilding work that will follow right after. In my view, we are still learning the lessons of the great war as we speak and let us all never forget.