Haiya Cik Siti, aahh, saya manyak penat....

**WARNING: PICTURES BADLY TAKEN AND HAVE LOTS OF GLITTERS OR DANDRUFFLIKE THINGIES ON THEM. PLS DONT ASK ME WHY**

“You doing a piece to camera today?” asked Bob in that Yorkshire drawl of his.“Me? Just look at these,” I said pointing to the bags under the eyes. I have more bags than Selfridges and John Lewis put together.

The last time I did a piece to camera was at the sea front of Dover where Malik did his 17 hour feat across the Channel to Calais. (I did ask him whether he had heard of the Eurostar). Malik got his datukship and I got lots of jibes from friends and family who saw a tired looking old Mak Cik signing off by the quiet seafront, the echoes of Malaysia Boleh long gone. I looked more battered then Malik after his swim!

“Why no make up or anything?”, “Why you look fat?”, “Why you wear that dress?”, “Why you look tired?” Why? Why ?Why?

Well, we waited days before the elements would allow Malik to swim, by which time the toing and froing to Dover and the stress of waiting had taken its toll. And when it did happen, it was at 1am when he swam into the darkness. And we only left until we no longer saw the white dot that was his luminous white cap bobbing in the cold water.

It was well after 2 am that I did that piece to camera. No, I didn’t have a make-up artist at my disposal and I didn’t care, cos the news was more about the first Malaysian to swim the Channel. I was only there to tell the folks back home.

Why am I suddenly ranting about Malik’s swim when all Bob asked was about a piece to camera at THE Royal Albert Hall?

Well, I supposed the media frenzy here in London during his historic feat was similar to that of Cik Siti’s visit and her debut at the RAH and the stress and strain just as much.

Unlike Cik Siti’s pre-set date at the prestigous hall, Malik’s plan to conquer the Channel was very much at the mercy of the elements. Rough weather and cancellations led to frayed nerves and lack of sleep – LV under the eyes.

(btw – I must add here, just made a call to Cik Siti who is at this very minute at the lounge of Heathrow leaving for Malaysia. And guess what??? This Kuala Lipis lass has bagged another, not one, not two BUT THREE Augerah Bintang Popular!!! I was summoned to get her reactions.)

OK, where were we before we were rudely interuppted?

I met up with Cik Siti and entourage a day after her arrival and introduced her to the BBC World Service, Indonesian section, whose listeners form a huge portion of her fan base. Rumours has it that when there were demonstrations in the streets of Jakarta against Malaysia, many too were carrying banners professing their undying love for her. So there – music conquers all.

The next few days, she made two appearances at Oriental City and an afternoon at Malaysia Hall, causing quite a frenzy among fans. Macho men pretended not to care, old Mak Ciks considered possibilites of having her as daughter-in-law, and Bob couldn’t get his lens away from her delicious sweet face. I badly needed cut-aways and had to nudge him to train his camera elsewhere too. Such is the effect Cik Siti has on people.

Both sound engineers at the BBC and my editor were mesmerised by her voice.

Can someone so beautiful and talented be so nice and untouched by all these craze around her? She has to shake hands non-stop, sign autographs non stop and still smiles and entertains her fans! Isn’t there a flaw in this creature of near perfection? Well, I can hear someone shout “Her English!” .

True, but I have no problems with that. How often have we heard Italians or Spanish or non English speaking celebs speak a non perfect English. Sometimes, it is even cute to the ears. Give her time, and she will learn. Making fun of her won't help.I believe Latta Mangeskar(sp)performed and spoke in Hindi throughout her concert here. so, Nahi problem!

Kak Teh with cameraman Bob and soundman Ed
Anyway, things were building up for the 1st of April. Booked Bob for 1pm to go straight to Albert Hall and catch Cik Siti's interview with the Beeb. But Fazley, ehem, ehem, said the RAH has not given permission for the Malaysian media to be present. So we hung around Malaysia Hall, bought snacks and drinks for the long wait. Then, drove to Albert Hall to meet another crew and we positioned ourselves strategically. One crew at door 6 for arrivals of VIP's and the other at the back of the hall. Both got very good response from Siti die hard fans - the number one being the Sultan of Pahang, who said: She is my number one superstar!
The hall, as expected, was not full. Perhaps only about 2,500 people. We were told 500 seats are usually blocked and reserved by seasonal ticket holders.

A section was filled by fans-cum-sitistalkers, who won sms competition and were flown in by SNP. They caused quite a riot everywhere they went carrying albums, banners and sporting T-shirts with Cik Siti smiling tantalisingly.

We were only allowed to film the first two songs and the last two songs.
Personally, I did not recognise most of the songs as they are new. Am more familiar with Bisikan Asmara, Purnama Merindu and of course Cindai. So, in a way was quite disappointed with the opening, although I must say she looked stunning. The schoolgirl like lass eating chips with me by the roadside café in Holborn was transformed into a princess on stage.

A glittery emcee for the night
Come the joget numbers, you couldn’t get me to sit still and encouraged by Mahadzir Lokman, we were soon registering 6.3 on the Richter Scale. When my niece phoned all the way from Malaysia to ask whether I had behaved myself, of course, I said I did.

The concert was nearly over when Siti started her lengthy tributes from Habib Jewels to Jimmy Choo and work was just starting for us after the enjoyment.

Anak mak
We waited for her at a room reserved for the media, only to be told that fans had blocked the entrance. So, we were moved a few floors up where I met her parents for the first time. I had to congratulate them, especially the mother for bringing up such talented and well behaved children. This is a mother to mother thing.

The timing of the CEO of the RAH couldn’t have been more perfect when he interupted our press conference saying that the RAH would be delighted to invite her back, and added that she has joined a list of famous singers there. Wow – I saw everyone scribbling and circling that as the intro for the story.


After a two hour routine and still she can look like this?
After the press conference, Siti obligingly posed again for us very demanding journos. No signs of stress or even the slightest annoyance or tantrums.

Bob dropped me home at nearly one am and crashed out immediately. For once, my dream did not have Percayalah as background music. I must have been very tired.

Woke up in last night’s clothes just in time to send off a story to a paper and copies to two others, with a message : if I can't make it – translate and adapt!

Was about to jump into waiting taxi when I got a frantic call from editor saying story not attached to email. Spoke through mail box to hubby to resend. In taxi, scribbled script for voice over and reached Camden Lock APTN building just in time for edit. Gordon the editor was also in last night's clothes and looked as tired. He had been on standby the whole night for the Pope to die. Luckily, he waited right after Siti’s solo debut at RAH. The pope, that is, not Gordon, but Gordon was soon refreshed after replaying close up shots of Siti on the monitor. Hey, we have serious work here, Gordon. If I was hoping things would go smoothly, then I was wrong…I had misplaced the most important tape of the press conference. Luckily there’s a backup one from the other crew. Bob phoned up to say, he found it on the floor of his car. Well done and satelite time was in an hour’s time. But as always, between Bob, Gordon and I, we managed to reduce a whole day’s work and two hours magical performance to about three minutes. Once the satelite feed was in process, I thought I could relax until another editor phoned up to have a new angle to the story. Haiyaaaa..

When Cik Siti fulfilled her dreams to sing at the RAH, that’s not the end of the story. She was invited to the Malaysian High Commision for high tea. And remember, Kak Teh was in last night’s clothes. Stopped by at one of many Indian shops along the street, bought a kurta with enough glitters and set off on my way to outshine Cik Siti. Also, I have to convey numerous salams and messages to her. An example is: Tell her, my father says she is his cucu. Another one: If she is not interested in Fazley, tell her I am available..

Oh, Cik Siti,when is the RAH inviting you back?

A Brush with Fame! (Well, .....almost!)

‘Kakak’ – Atok’s little princess, had just completed a two week-rehearsal for a stage play which will be touring UK next week. She is to play the youngest princess in The King and I. She is excited and even more so are her parents, well done! And break a leg, Kakak!

Kakak, with her sweet oval shaped face and a hint of Oriental look, is just what the organisers of the play was searching for. Last year, three Malay children were chosen for the play. Indeed, the West End production of ‘The King and I’ a few years ago had no less than five Malaysians – all playing Thais or Burmese. There was Ungku who played various roles from court official to jester, (I think), and there’s Sean Ghazi who played the Burmese prince in the same production. If I am not mistaken, they were also in Miss Saigon.

Our Oriental faces are much in demand for these kind of productions. And also, our voices. And this from experience.

My meeting with Kakak last week brought to mind Pak Man Tokyo’s (See, Goodbye Pak Cik and Thanks for the Memories) brush with stars and stardom and indeed many of his friends too were in the books of Madam Sen, a Burmese lady, who was their agent.

Pak Man and his friends were extras in the Australian film ‘A Town Like Alice’, from the novel of the same name by Neville Shute. This, of course is a wartime romance between Aussie soldier and English woman in Malaya. And Pak Man and co. were of course those horrible, cruel and heartless Japanese soldiers. You don’t need much training 'cos all they needed was Oriental faces that could pass off as Japanese and lots of grunts and fierce looks!

So, it was quite by coincident that yonks later, I found myself at the BBC studio doing the voice of Fatima (the Malay friend of the heroine) for the cassette and radio version of the story. I had to sound all coy and naive. Easy!

Pak Man was also fortunate to have starred with the delectable and suave Roger Moore in the TV series, The Saint. He had also worked with Peter Finch. There’s Pak Mahmood from Singapore, who told me that once when he missed his ship, he became an extra in one movie and earned a lot more then his friends who left him!

Indeed, Pak Man and his sailor friends have had close brushes with fame or names who later became famous. Take Pak Cik Mat Noor in Liverpool. He claimed to have danced with Cilla Black and also served young Lennon who came to his friend’s café.

Din worked in a London west end club, hanging coats belonging to a little known singer called Mick Jagger and his friends. Little did he know then how famous they were going to be!

Now – about moi’s near brush with fame. Apart from the voice that I lent to Fatima of ‘A Town Like Alice’, I have sort of ‘appeared’ in a few more, not counting recordings in lifts and aeroplanes and phone messaging serviceslah!

A few years ago, I received a call from an agent working for Pinewood Studios. And I thought, this must be it! But, luckily I didn’t chuck in my day job. I was to round up ten Malay voices! And with a promise of £600 each for the whole day, I got more than I could manage and we trooped off to the studio. The film we were doing, I told them, was ‘The Entrapment’ at which point the boys in the group shrieked with excitement at the very-very remote possibility of meeting Catherine Zeta Jones, while the Mak Ciks in the group, silently prayed, (oh God, we prayed!) that we could at least feast our eyes on the sexy beast Sean Connery!

Well, not a hint or a whiff of CZJ – and we were briefed on what to do – mainly, we were doing the pasar scene – all kinds of bargaining, shouting, laughing! Then, there’s the scene when the police rushed in the building – only male voices saying "serbu! Serbu!" The party scene was hilarious! We could laugh and scream! Then, my claim to fame – the chatter in the lift!
But you’ve got to put your ears very close to the TV to hear it!

Anyway, even without CZJ – or Connery, we were quite happy – imagine £600 each just for laughing and shouting! We all sounded quite hoarse by the end of the day – but deliriously so.

Before the long journey back to London, we waited for some friends who wanted to go to the loo first and, without Connery himself we felt we had to take pictures with his big poster in the foyer. I was posing while my friend fiddled with her camera when, my jaw dropped to the floor at the sight of the apparition entering the door. I finally found my tongue and squeeked “Sean Connery, behind you!" “Ye, ye,” she said, quite used to my pranks. At which point the Sean Connery, strode in, passed my friend with the camera, (by which time her jaw was already mopping the floor,) and proceeded to say “Hallo! Hallo!” in that sexy voice of his and shook our hands. My friend with the camera was still going gaga – and didn’t even take any pictures. Our friendship ended there and then! If not I would have pictures to paste here as proof that Sean Connery shook my hand!

Then a few years after our very close brush to fame, I was called again – this time at another studio, another movie. Our chatter and laughter must have been so good that we were very much sought after. This time – to contribute to “The Sleeping Dictionary” – set in Sarawak. So called because the British expats were then taught Malay by their sleeping companions – except that they were not sleeping, if you catch my drift (wink, wink). I wonder what the vocabs consisted of? Imagine, "Ini *&^%!. Itu "£%$%$!"

Anyway, again – we were required to do a lot of laughter – and after sometime, it became quite tiring – and it became no laughing matter anymore. But one scene that a colleague had to do, had us all rolling on the floor with tears streaming down our cheeks. One friend, a Malaysian Indian, was to be the head gardener and another gardener – also an Indian was required for that short conversation. The problem was, he was the only Indian. So, this other colleague, a Malay came to the rescue – but his Indian vocab only consists of swear words, which I don’t think would pass the censorship board. Thus the conversation consisted of a lot of Amma,amma! in various tones and intonation, complete with shaking of the head to make it sound authentic!

Oh dear! Such hard work! I had better sign off now and go and do some real work!

ps I have just come back from teaching Malay to some British expats..and that, I promise you, is no sleeping or laughing matter. Quite serious one!