TO all Mak Cik Bloggers

UPDATE: For a side-splitting, feet thumping review of MAK CIK BLOGGERS - THE MOVIE (WE WILL, WE WILL BLOG YOU!) REVIEW BY ADIEJIN PRODUCTIONS, PLS, I BEG YOU, GO TO AdieJin

and also dont forget to read Mak Andeh

I garantee you, lauk di dapur mesti hangit, anak akan kelaparan - and we are still auditioning for walk on parts!

....now please read on!

When I entered the world of blogging, I was apprehensive about it. In spite of the three easy steps it said on how to start a blog, I was making all sorts of silly mistakes. I was also apprehensive about the reaction....what if no one reads me, what if I syiok sendiri..hehe. Anyway, I had long been a silent reader and by then, I had acquired a list of bloggers whose nicks are so familiar – Pok Ku, Pak Adib, Mok Cik Nab, Atok – its like having a ready made family online. And once you are welcomed by Pok Ku...hey, that is like being introduced by Ed Sullivan of the Bloggers’ World lah..ya dok, Pok Ku?

Anyway, like I said, I am pleased that I can now put pictures without messing up the page, help maknenek to put up banners. Was touched that bloggers were giving me their passwords to put up banners and links for them...hahaha – (sorry, I just remembered some unmentionable usernames..hehehe, sorry, again!) And I suppose, the other biggest achievement was the Sentraal Station, thanks to another Mak Cik Blogger, AuntyN who came up with the idea!


Alhamdulillah, its been a really good and positive network and if not for the camaraderie here, I would have packed up my ladders and gone elsewhere! Its been, to say the least, the most humbling experience reading some blogs – to read that some people have gone through what you only have in your nightmares. And you give each other support – if there’s nothing nice to say – walk away.


And there are very informative ones too - ones you only get with age and experience (When you get to our age, this is how you start marketing yourself!)

Have learnt a lot from Mak Cik Sharon, laughed with Mak cik Lilian (5xMom) and really enjoy Mak Cik Lydia's friendship...Of course those I mentioned here are all sewaktu dengan Kak Teh lah! Or, I suspect, younger!

I am still in awe reading the achievements of young bloggers here. You go reading their meme'd account and your jaws dropped. But I have made friends with many young ones who have generously shared with me their knowledge. Thanks ijun, nana and many more.

Now back to Mak Cik Bloggers. Am sorry I caused a stir last Sunday morning. But its true. We Mak Cik Bloggers, blur and gomen and those who rawk and the one by the pantai, yang pencen, and those like me still carrying rucksacks back to school – we are all ageless in this cyber world and will remain so ( until we meet up and examine and compare wrinkles!)

We have learnt so much from each other, lent each other cyber shoulder pads to cry on and laughed at many a joke..that helped us make our day livelier! And we are into
PO - sitive blogging *wink*

Let me share you this story. Two weeks ago, on a Saturday morning, I was pulling my bag full of books to the library when I saw two Malaysian girls taking photographs in front of the university. I stopped to say salam and introduced myself as I am wont to do when meeting fellow Malaysians. The moment I mentioned my name, one of them screamed, “Kak Tehhhhh” and had my fifteen minutes of fame, while they took photographs of me bleary eyed and all, from all angles and in all manner of posing! Thanks, E and M, you made my day! Tersengeh sepanjang hari!

And not only that my dear Mak Ciks...they read you too and I believe I am bringing back a little something for you from your fans in Edinburgh!

Hmm, am not supposed to blog today..so I will end here and say :

MAK CIK BLOGGERS BOLEH!!!!!

Anak Melayu di Kota Inggeris

It was a funny kind of evening – not funny haha, but just funny strange. The gentleman who was my companion for the evening was polishing off his nasi lemak and downing his second glass of teh tarek, while I looked on in amazement at how Malay or much more Malay he is than me, in terms of the generous dollops of sambal that he had on his plate. He has not had nasi lemak for a long time, he said, in perfect Malay. The only Indonesian restaurant in Shizuoka, Japan, serves almost everything but nasi lemak.

We discussed my syair and I was very impressed with his input. He did Sejarah Melayu and there were some common grounds there.

In the background, Art Fazil was singing “Anak
Melayu di Kota Inggeris” and whenever he does this, I find it difficult to concentrate on anything else. Thus my plate of rice and mild korma was only half eaten. I must have listened to Art’s wonderful lyrics and composition hundreds of times but it never failed to encapsulate how I feel about being in this Kota Inggeris.

I find myself humming this chorus all the time (that is when I am not singing Alleycats, lah!)

“Pasu bunga berbaris-baris,

disusun oleh si anak manis,

Aku Melayu di Kota Inggeris,

rindukan petai dan sambal tumis!

Anyway, back to my gentleman friend from Japan, who shall remain a Dr T in this entry – is very interested in the Malay community in London – being an anthropologist and all that. And when he emailed me from Japan before his trip, I made arrangements for him to meet up with some people and finally, after his busy schedule, we met up at Mawar – a more Malay surrounding you will not find, I tell you. Its nasi goreng kampong is to die for and the teh tarek, as Dr T will testify is just out of this world and on Saturday nights when Art is singing, you will not want to be anywhere else.

Dr T wanted to know how we adapt to life in this Kota Inggeris, the kind of activities we do etc, etc. And who better than Art Fazil, who recently organised the first London Malay Festival, bringing together Malays from Cape Town, Sri Lanka, the Philipines, Singapore, Malaysia, Brunei, Indonesia, Madagascar, Thailand. Dr T should have been around then cos, it was quite an event.

In spite of the fact that they had very little time to organise the festival, Art and co (Ishak and Mimah and daughters and others) did not do too badly. I did my bit by introducing Cik Mat Belanda and his puppets, which were a hit as Cik Mat is our modern day Penglipur Lara who told stories, using his puppets. Cik Mat came all the way from Rotterdam to entertain us on that day – he even demonstrated several ways to make ketupat nasi. I have known Cik Mat for a long time. My trips to Holland will not be complete without a visit to his house for his delicious asam pedas ikan semilang. I marvel at his dedication... he is a sort of cultural ambassador there – organising cultural shows and introducing Malaysia.

Anyway, there was a fashion show with models from the Malay world, parading in Malay costumes, silat, dances and many more.

Truly enjoyed that. There was a talk on Malayness and the Malay world by Prof EU Kratz from SOAS. And food, needless to say from Mawar..the festival would not have seen light of day without the final push from Faizal Philip, Mawar's owner! Hat's off to him!

ketupat

Anyway, I digress...(but this is the beauty of blogging, I can digress whenever I like, its my blog. And i can even have typeos....see what I mean?)

Dr T’s interest made me think. People like us, who have been away for a long time, have now become objects of research. Hey, wasn’t I the one who used to do the research and now I am the subject of research? Art Fazil did mention that by 2012, he’d like to see a Malay museum set up in London. Suddenly, I see this horrible image of myself all crumpled up and wrinkled in one of the showrooms!

Reckless moments, desperate measures

I read this tragic news in the Malaysian papers and felt quite ill and sad. It is the one about the teenage boy who was said to have stabbed his pregnant teenage girlfriend. Its a nightmare for every parent. And I thought long and hard before writing this one. Afterall , I am a parent too.

For the rest of my life I will never erase this image from my mind, even if I tried.

“I had settled the week old baby in the baby seat, specially bought for the black cab, fastened the seatbelt and kissed him for one last time. Then I turned to the mum, barely a child herself. After much coaxing, I persuaded her to give her baby one last kiss, before he was taxied off with a nurse to his foster parents outside London. She did. And for the first time, I saw big fat tears rolling down her cheeks. For the first time, I saw the bonding but it was too late cos she had made the decision.

It was her decision and nothing would move her. She wanted to give the baby away. She had just emerged from the denial phase that she did not give birth and was not pregnant. She thought she was just fat and was eating so much jeruk and slimming pills to slim down. When I first saw her, her young face registered nothing. If there was such a thing as nothingness, that was it...on her face. The baby in the cot next to her could’ve been someone else’s cos when I asked her about the gender, she didn’t know.

For once, my job as a freelance whatever sucks! I hated it when I was called to interpret for this young Malay girl who had just given birth. I got too emotionally involved and knew so, as day after day, I went back to the hospital and fed and changed the nappies as his own mother wouldn’t do so.

Finally, I was asked to ask her what she wanted to do with the baby...and her reply was, to give him up for adoption. That posed the question of the rights of the father, whoever he was. After much coaxing, she gave a number and the hospital called the boy who was totally in the dark about the whole thing. Totally shocked that he was already a father. But no denial here.

Again, when I asked his views about adoption, this child said – whatever the girl wanted, he would respect her views. Would he come and see the baby? No, he was at school.

It must have been desperation that drove her to ‘hide’ away from her family and come to London as a student. It must have been desperation too that she was taking slimming pills knowing that they could induce miscarriage...which in her case, thankfully, did not work! But it is still a question mark whether she shared her secret with the boyfriend.

Whatever it was, it must have been a great shock that called for desperate measures. And if the newspapers reports about yesterday’s news are correct, the action was certainly a desperate one. And a tragic one.

At the end of this whole sorry saga, which lasted just a week, I was left an emotional wreck. I had become attached to the baby and watching it being ferried away to the home of a stranger, just broke my heart. I stood a long time by the road side, after the taxi drove away with the baby and just cried.

Then, there was tension at home. My husband thought we should have adopted and I said, there was no way we could afford to and with me being involved like this, there was no way, I’d be qualified. "

Imagine, brief moments of reckless pleasure that could end up so, so tragically!

Whaaaaaaaat??? Only 100 camels?

That was my response to R’s story about her trip to Cairo recently. Apparently, she was visiting the pyramids when someone offered the people she was with, 100 camels fo her!

Hisssh, 100 camels! What were they thinking! 200 and no less!

The father’s reactions: Huh! 100 camels? Where do we put them? Our garden is too small!

Typical!

I’ve been itching to write about this since reading anedra's entry about price of dowry in Malaysia these days and the comments are so interesting.

In those day, (and here we go again), when an anak dara could command, RM1000, its the talk of the kampung! I remember the negotiations that went on behind closed doors when Kak was getting married. She had had a long queue of very interested mums and even more interested suiters, but Pak was not willing to let go of his first child that easily. There were royalties, politicians and they pursued her relentlessly even after she was married and with child. Well, you could class her as a beauty, tall and willowy, fair and Miss Kebaya to boot! (And then of course Mak and Pak broke the mould and had us!)

But Pak was possessive not to mention protective. After rumours had it that she was being followed to work, he hired her a trishaw, with an uncle as an escort!

And finally, when a young dashing police officer in uniform came to nip the first bud in our garden, it seemed the right choice and we thank God for that because Abang is like no other and we love him tremendously . He still spoils us rotten.
Anyway, not before he had to cough up RM1000 for the dowry – a lot, mind you in those days!

There must have been a lot of talk...Waaah, Anak Pak Awang belanja seribu!!!

And behind our backs it must have been..."Ish, nak juai anak kaaaaaaa!"

I cant remember what happened to Kak Cik, but when it came to my turn, I recall having this reluctant feeling to go home during the term breaks. The minute the Mak Ciks know that you’re back, there would be strangers at the door. And you’d think they can be more subtle than that as they had been doing it as a profession – these mak cik merisik!

Mak would call out to me to make tea and I was supposed to make tea and walk all lemah gemalai and act all coy and sweet, which I was not at all. Then they’d look you up and down, not unlike the way they would do to a chicken or a goat before the big kill.

“Yang ni dah ada kawan dah kaaaaa?”

From a very young age I used to shiver when people talked about matchmaking. I think it started with a neighbour who used to put a dash of kapur on my forehead everytime we visited her! That was supposed to be a tag – a reserve tag for her son!

Anyway, nothing could beat this one – I was at my sister’s house when the phone was passed on to me – very businesslike this woman at the other end of the line. She proceeded to tell me that her son was very qualified and earning so much which left me quite speechless, not knowing head or tail as to how you respond to things like that.

Anyway, why did I digress so?

Oh yes...when the right wan, oh, sorry, the right one came, nothing mattered. Even if he had placed an IOU letter on the talam hantaran, it would be fine. I remember the rombongan that came to Abang’s house in Bangsar. I was not to be seen or heard, but I was told about the pantun memantun that went on downstairs! The next day, when I was driving around with my intended, he casually asked me the asking price. I mentioned the number and I swear to you...the car skidded to the middle of the road! He was perspiring! But then, that has always been his style of reacting to anything and I got the asking price in a small album - that took care of the bonus that he received from the NST at that time.

Nowadays, I read the figures can go to six digits, especially when the bride concerned is a celebrity!

Aaaah, I will have to seriously think about this again.. our children are at that age. Am not going into the business of haggling for dowries. The eldest will certainly have to work more before settling down – not for anything but for their future security. I am not materialistic, but I will not settle for camels for my girls.

"Siapa itu Kassim Selamat? Majistret? Loyar???" hands on hips, sumore!

As for my Batman, can I have more time with him, pleaseeeeeee!!!!

Interview With The 'Pontianak'

The house in Yan was in such an idyllic setting, with the imposing Gunung Jerai in the background. In the mornings when we accompanied Mak to the mosque, the fragrance from the cempaka flowers drifted in the air, giving that added chill. I shiver just thinking about it. Especially when we hurried past that big tree – according to murmurs, it housed a certain ‘being’. You know – the one that sits high in the trees and flies in the night. Pontianak. I never failed to look up whenever we walked past.

I think that was where we learnt about Pontianak. Well, apart from the black and white movie on telly, and of course stories we heard from older cousins when they spent the nights with us and we’d huddle in a corner and listened eyes wide open.

Of course now, we are wiser and realised that those stories were meant to keep us indoors at night.

A year ago, Shuhaimi Baba revived the Pontianak on screen with her Pontianak Harum Sundal Malam. Thirty years after it was banished by the censorship board! And her Pontianak – the lovely Maya Karin is far from the Pontianak that remained in the deep recesses of my young mind. I first met her when they were doing a reshoot of some scenes and Maya was wiping off her grotesque make-up when she was introduced to me.


Not two hours before writing this, I met Maya again. Three hectic days at the Estepona Fantasy and Terror Film Festival in Spain and she still looked ravishing.

And she has every reason to look glowing and happy - once again she bagged the Best Performer award, her second for her role as Pontianak in PHSM 2. The first – you will recall – was at the 49th Asia Pacific Film Festival in Japan.

I myself became interested in horror movies last year just as Shuhaimi reinstated our own monstrous feminine back on to the screen. I just wanted to know why in South East Asia there are more female monsters – compared to the west. Take Nang Nak - love it though I cried buckets everytime I watched it. It was an interesting term I had when I just devoted part of module to a study of horror movies and ended up presenting a paper on The Monstrous Feminine in SEA Horror movies in Sorbonne last summer. It was fun.

So when Shuhaimi hinted that she was doing a sequel I was really excited and I toyed with her suggestion that I should try script writing – of course that didn’t materialise. My mum was ill and there were other pressing matters – if not I’d be there as well – getting the awards, no?

But today I was back interviewing the ‘Pontianak’. And what a lovely lass! Once in a while she’d give me that look that sent the shivers up my spine. The same feeling I got walking under that big tree near our house in Yan.

I've been MEMED!

I’ve been memed left, right and centre and thanks to you all, and you know who you are, for dragging me screaming and kicking, away from my big D! So, here I had better get it done and over with. Took out my calculator and old diaries to calculate dates and see where I was and when.

Here we go:

20 years ago (1985)
At my age, (and we shall not dwell on that) its very difficult to think that far back and I have misplaced that year’s diary.
Anyway, my short term contract at the BBC was extended and I was learning the ropes, broadcasting to the world, so to speak. I made some wonderful friends, and one remains so close to my heart to this day, an inspiration and a great motivator, indeed. She started reading my blog yesterday and if you are reading this now, please know how much yesterday’s phone conversation means to me.

Just as I was enjoying having a boy and a girl, I was back throwing up into the toilet bowl again and the test kit showed positive (again!) I remember crying my eyes out in the bathroom but hubby as usual was ecstatic. But I knew that he was always there when I throw up at the sink or needed any midnight snacks. Am pampered throughout all my pregnancies, so no problem there.

But the problem was the house. The two bedroom we bought two years before was becoming too small for a family with two boisterous children, and another one on the way. Sold that and made a tidy profit, enough for a bigger house up the road. Three bedrooms and a hugeeeeeee eighty foot garden, with an obliging neighbour who tended to it until he was too old and too frail to do it. Now, its back to nature.


Ten years ago (1995)
Funny eh? After receiving my extended contract, I was made permanent at the BBC only to be told that the Foreign and Commonwealth Office had decided to axe a few services – ours included. But by 1995, I was well into the world of freelancers – a day a week at the British Library, two days at Linguaphone, several big voice jobs AND got my first book published by none other than Routledge. Its nice seeing the books lining the shelves at Books etc, and Selfridges. I’d go and check to see whether anyone had bought. And of course they did cos I keep receiving the royalties!
Did a massive project with Linguaphone and Dorling Kindersley.
Rezki anak. Oh, by now, we’ve got 4, and I wanted ten.

Five years ago (2000)
After years of writing pieces here and there, finally got my first column – London Buzz! Enjoyed that tremendously, especially when they were really nice positive feedbacks from readers.
Sorry, I lied. I had several columns before with Her World and Jelita, but was just not ready for a commitment. So those were shortlived but columns, nevertheless.

Did more television work and more teaching work. This television work took me places and enjoyed. And started doing voice work for a wonderful American company which to this day pays a lot of my bills.

Three years ago (2002)
The world opened up. I was told about Rantauan.com and since then I was hooked. Never surfed before and didnt know the meaning of chatting or ym’ing even. Was really into Rantauan.com and all the actvities it had to offer to bring Malays around the world together. We had fun with pantun wars, cerpen bersambung and most of all the wonderful friendship that I never thought could be forged even without a meeting face to face.
This year, I became bini Pak Haji, and mother not only to four teenagers but six cats! We had seventeen, but the nasty RSPCA came and took the little ones away and we cried for days.

A year ago (2004)
Quite a traumatic year. My friends were getting daughters in laws, sons in law, grandchildren and I went back to university, sitting uncomfortably in a classroom of kids young enough to be my children. My husband was all excited. Cos he thought we could relive our youth by having dates at the canteen, he’d carry my bags for me and wait outside the uni gate when the bell rang.

Did my first exam after what...thirty years? and survived. Went to Holland for my first conference as a student and then proceeded to Paris, where I presented a paper at University of Sorbonne! Not bad and was even quoted in a Thai paper! haha!

Again, with Allah's blessings, came a contract that ensures my fees for the MA is paid for. Alhamdulllah

Launched Rantauan.tv – we were holding hands – cyberspeak – with friends around the world – was in a shabby internet cafe in Rotterdam when the button was pressed in Melbourne! And there was our Prime Minister’s welcoming speech for rantauan members. I asked Pak Lah for this favour and he obliged – filmed partly by blogger Atok.

Mak was seriously ill and before I could book my ticket, it was already delivered to my house by a very, very kind friend who knew what it felt not seeing his mother before she died. Until now he made me promise to go home to see my mum at least, twice a year. Am going home again this October, Insyaallah to spend a hari raya with Mak.

And while recovering from jet lag from that trip, I started this blog and thus this addictive habit that connects me to so many out there who have again become so precious in my life (now that I have lost all my real friends because I have been a student/recluse) and who infuriatingly made me do this memed thingy.

This year (2005)
Am no longer the oldest student in class. There are two others.
Worked on a very old syair that has consumed a large part of my life.
Attended another conference in Exeter – an eye opener.
Lost more friends because I refused to go anywhere because of my studies and dissertation.
My Batman is sounding more like his father. Yesterday he brought back good news that he scored the highest ever grade for English and Science! Helped my eldest through his heartache. And right now am missing my soulmate who just logged off after a short, too short a chat.

Next year
I do so want to do my PhD – if my eyesight permits. Its not for anything – I just want to go back to the library and spend time with the books. And, AG, will you take me to do the Haj? I so badly need your guidance.

Am signing up fo Creative Writing classes and will write THAT book. Insyaallah.

Ten years from now? – Who knows? At my age, I count a year at a time.

Now, over to you Lydia and Jane and AuntyN and Pak Ajie!

A much needed break

I really need this and please don’t even start telling me that I shouldn’t be blogging at these crucial moments. I left the house at 0730 this morning and now it is already 1803 to be exact. And Kak Teh these days is not like the normal Mak Cik Kak Teh, dragging her feet. Now, she struts around with a heavy rucksack on her back, with all manner of literature books and journals weighing almost a ton. Yet, there’s a certain spring in her steps as she jumps on the number Seven and enjoys a quiet bus ride to the uni before the crazy crowd gets in.

Yes, I was here at the uni at eight am and I had to shout out and tell someone. So I sms’ed Jane Sunshine to boast about it. She, the poor dear, was still tucked comfortably under her duvet for she replied a few hours later, after I had booked my computer in the lab and walked around Russel Square looking for a decent breakfast. I had tuna sandwich and coffee at an Italian, while listening to Radio Two in the background.

The computer lab was dark and deserted when I got here. There was evidence that someone must have slept the night there and left early. I felt like the morning shift cleaner. Anyway, I couldn’t take any chances as the adrenalin was fast flowing and so were the words, ten thousand of them all waiting to rush out through my two fingers on to the screen - in which order I don’t know yet, but they are all there, believe me!

(I simply cant work at home. Jasper likes to jump on to the computer table and totally block the screen. Tabby sits on the books and Snowbell pulls my hand away to stroke her.)

The concourse of the university is looking nice with trees in full bloom and there were two Bhuddist monks – a tad early for the conference that they are attending here. It’s a shame I couldn’t enjoy the sunshine outside but there’s a more pressing task I need to attend to. So, I switched on the computer and ignoring the stern warning from my buddy in Aberdeen, I came straight here. My blog. Its just bad habit and I am a creature of bad habit. Too old to change.

Yeah, today I managed something ( a lot really) in spite of numerous frantic sms’es from Blabs who wanted to postpone her flight back to Malaysia and phonecalls from children. Then there’s a surprise call from hubby, who was somewhere in Jalan Mesjid India in search of a barber. He called because he thought I might want to listen to a song by a group of blind singers performing there. And I obliged and listened for a while, imagining him holding up his handphone in the air for me to get a good reception. Thanks AG, that really inspired me. He duly reported on the state of his hair and badly needed a haircut. I told him I badly needed to get on with my work.

I made several trips to the library – which is only a floor away and carried more books and suitably impressed the people around me with the number of reference books on my table. They, needless to say, are no longer at that stage of referring to books. They have drafted their dissertation and are mostly on to revising and editing. Oh well! These young eager students…what do they know, eh?

Oh, what would we do without programmes that offer footnotes, grammar and spell check and word counts? I love it. After every other paragraph I’d do a word count. Very encouraging! But the damn spell check – every time I typed out a sample of my syair that contained sayang or datang, the smart aleck changed it to saying or dating. And then had the audacity to tell me that the computer is not equipped to cope with that much Finnish vocab!

Then, when I hit a certain number of words, I sms’ed hubby : “Hooray eight thousand to go!” (By the way, the phone dictionary does not do Hooray – u’ll have to type it manually)

I visited several blogs – Lydia posted a new one, about her winning tickets to a concert. And at one point I caught her testing photobucket and there was this gigantic picture of Lydia Teh staring at me from the screen. In fact she later told me there were two big ones!

Okay, everyone is leaving and the guard has come to tell us we have only 15 minutes left. I am feeling quite, quite drained. And this only means one thing. I need my supplements. The number Seven goes past Tawana and I badly need an overdose of Thai Laksa.

ps
Several *&^%$£!! hours later.....
Have you ever felt like kicking yourself? The euphoric feeling of having accomplished something yesterday was replaced by exactly that kind of feeling. Apparently, what I had been saving, was not saved on to the computer. So, when I attached the file to send to myself ( to continue the work at home) I noticed that it had only several paragraphs. Uwueeeeeek!
Luckily, luckily, I had the presense of mind to print. If not my prof will never believe that I had done something. I know, cos I have had that kind of excuses from my students before..."Sorry Miss, I did it but something wrong with the computer!"

My Thai Sing Laksa
So, came back last night and drowned my sorrows in four bowls (yes!) of Thai Sing Laksa!

Bahasa Jiwa Bangsa!

Sepatutnya Kak Teh tak berbelog dalam saat-saat yang genting ini, tapi selepas melayari beberapa buah belog rakan-rakan belog di alam belogsfera dalam dua tiga hari ni, Kak Teh ternampak kempen yang agak giat untuk berbelog dalam bahasa Malaysia pada hari ulangtahun kemerdekaan Malaysia yang ke-48. Kak Teh tengok di belog Sharon Bakar yang dapat dari belog Eyeris.
Mula-mula teringat jugak nak buat syair merdeka, tetapi memandangkan entri syair asyik kena spam aje, Kak Teh rasa baiklah Kak Teh menulis tentang hari perayaan Merdeka.

Tahun ini sedih sekali sebab kami di London taklah dapat merayakan Hari Keluarga sempena Hari Merdeka seperti tahun-tahun lalu sebab dibatalkan dengan sebab-sebab keselamatan. Biasanya di London, kami akan mendapat jemputan ke hotel terkemuka oleh pihak Pesuruhjaya Tinggi Malaysia di London- adalah makan-makan sikit, tak banyak. Taklah dapat makan sekenyang-kenyangnya. Maklumlah makan di hotel, berdiri dan terpaksalah jaga adab makan minum, kan? Dan selalunya, perayaan Hari Keluarga diadakan tidak lama selepas itu di Brickendonbury – di perkarangan Pusat Penyelidikan Getah Tun Abdul Razak. Dah dua tiga tahun Kak Teh tak pergi sebab terpaksa balik ke Malaysia pada masa tu. Tahun lepas Mak sakit, tahun sebelum tu pulak, anak saudara kawin. Tahun ni nak pergi, dah cancel pulak.

Kak Teh memang suka pergi sebab di situlah dapat berjumpa rakyat Malaysia ramai-ramai – makan, minum bertemasya. Satu tahun tu, Kak Teh jual mee bandung, sardine rolls dan karipap! Ya, Tuhan lakunyaaaaaa! Tak menang tanganlah kata orang. Sambil menjual sambil menyanyi lagu Grease. Jangan tanya apa kena mengena merdeka dengan mee bandung dan lagu Grease Lightning. Tapi asalkan laku. Lagipun masa tu tak dapat CD Alleycats lagi. Kalau tidak sengau habis bergema di Brickendonbury!

Tahun selepas tu pulak, memanglah nak jual mee bandung jugak, tapi perayaan Merdeka dirundung berita sedih kematian Puteri Diana. Kak Teh ingat lagi, berkebaya merah menyala keluar dengan kru Tv untuk membuat liputan perayaan ni. Tapi separuh jalan dengar berita kematian Puteri yang cantik jelita tu.. Sampai saja di rumah Pesuruhjaya Tinggi, Kak Teh nampak kawan-kawan - terutama yang wanita semuanya menangis sebak selepas mendapat berita ni. Maklumlah, sapa yang tak sayang Diana, kan? Jadi selepas tu, Kak Teh pun terus pergi ke Buckingham Palace – alah, kat luar saja. Bukan boleh masuk ke dalam pun. Boleh lah buat liputan sedikit mengenai tragedy yang menyentuh setiap orang. Kak Teh pun memang sedih. Maklumlah dia tinggal anak-anak masih kecik lagi.

Eh, terlupa – ceritanya pasal merdeka, dah tersasul ke cerita Diana pulak. Tapi memanglah, setiap perayaan merdeka, akan terkenang nasib Puteri Diana sebab kemalangan itu berlaku pada hari ulangtahun merdeka.

Tapi Hari Keluarga tetap diadakan masa tu – Cuma ditangguh seminggu. Takkan nak bertemasya masa-masa begini, kan? Kak Teh pun jual jugak mee bandung. Tapi tahun ni kurang laris sebab Kak Teh asyik nak main netball. Lepas netball main musical chair, sampai terduduk atas riba orang! Ish, tak senonoh Kak Teh ni!

Masa kecik-kecik dulu, Kak Teg teringat jugak. Berminggu-minggu sebelum hari merdeka, terpaksa berlatih menari. Sebab Kak Teh di sekolah Convent, jadi, kami diajar tarian Scottish. Seronok betul. Bukan pasal apa. Sebab bila dok practise tu, kita practise di stadium Alor Setar, dan yang ada sama berlatih untuk hari merdeka ialah budak-budak sekolah Sultan Abdul Hamid . Ish, masa tu lah nak tengok dan beramah mesra dengan pelajar-pelajar lelaki. Selalunya dok selisih basikal saja. Dan jeling-jeling dari jauh.

Selepas tu pulak, dapatlah tiket percuma masing-masing untuk pergi tengok wayang. Entah, dah lupa dah gambar apa. Tapi seronoklah tak terhingga sebab dapat tengok wayang dengan kawan-kawan sekolah. Bukan senang nak dapat peluang begini.

Masa kecik-kecik pulak, Kak Teh ingat juga, kena berbaris di tepi jalan, untuk mengibar bendera kecik bila Sultan lalu. Aduh, panasnyaaaaa. Tunggu dah berjam. Kita pun kibarlah bendera. Kalau nasib baik Sultan dan Sultanah nampak dan lambai balik. Kalau tidak penat saja menunggu. Bekal air sirap dalam Tupperware yang dibungkus dengan tuala kecik tak boleh tinggal. Maklumlah panas.

Tapi yang paling Kak Teh ingat sekali dan kekal dalam ingatan sampai hari ni ialah Bulan Bahasa Kebangsaan. Masa tu, setiap negeri akan adakan Bulan Bahasa. Setiap sekolah anjurkan pertandingan syarahan dan juga berbahas – dalam bahasa Melayu. Dalam keluarga Kak Teh, yang pakarnya dalam hal-hal ni ialah Kak Cik. Wah, tera dia tu. Bersemangat kalau dia bersyarah. Setiap kali dia bersyarah, menang pulak tu! Sampailah ke peringkat negeri. Mai peringkat negeri – tak berjaya. Tapi tak apalah, banyak juga piala yang dikutip sepanjang masa. Sekarang ni dah anak tiga, cucu dua, dia dok bersyarah sorang-sorang kat rumah dia di Bangi. Bila Kak Teh balik Malaysia, dia ambik peluang untuk bersyarah kat Kak Teh. ‘Listen…’ ha tu pembukaan dia.

Kak Teh ingat dulu, ikut dia untuk pertandingan syarahan, sampai accident tengah jalan. Lori langgar basikal Kak Teh dari belakang dan basikal Kak Teh pulak langgar basikal Kak Cik. Jatuh gedebuk dua –dua beradik tengah jalan. Bila bawak pi hospital malu tersipu-sipu sebab punggung Kak Teh yang luka – doctor pulak muda dan hemsem! Ish, nasib baik tak jumpa lagi selepas tu. Tapi mungkin dia tak kenal muka kan, sebab dia periksa tempat lain.

Ish, Kak Cik masa tu – hebat dia. Bila dia bersyarah, orang tercengang sebab dia memang ada karisma. Kalau jual ubat laku. Orang akan beli sebab takut. Dah tu, dia dulu rambut ala Anneke Gronloh , macam sarang tebuan tu. Kak Teh ni, boleh kata tumpang sekaki sajalah.. Tumpang glamour – cakap tak pandai, berbahas tak pandai. Main sukan pun memang lumpork saja.

Tapi ni yang Kak Teh rasa kita patut pulihkan semula…adakan Bulan Bahasa .Bahasa menunjukkan bangsa. Pulihkan semula cara kita berpidato, cara penyampaian kita untuk bercakap dengan penuh yakin. Sampai sekarang pun kalau Kak Cik kata kat Kak Teh merah tu hijau, Kak Teh percaya dia.

Tak apalah, Kak Teh dah merapu lama dah ni. Orang sekeliling dok buat dissertation tapi oleh kerana Kak Teh pun dah komited untuk berbelog dalam bahasa Melayu, Kak Teh usahakan juga. Buat muka serious macam dok piker tentang argument untuk essay! Tapi orang ingat Kak Teh serious buat dissertation.

BAHASA JIWA BANGSA – SELAMAT BERBELOG!!

Life's Like That , eh Lydia?

It has been a while and I really need to come up for some fresh air. And how refreshing it is to be surfing and reading blogs instead of squinting my eyes at the syair and willing it to turn into a 10,000 word dissertation. So, I am back – briefly – because I’d like to welcome a new blogger - one who needs no introduction in the Malaysian media world. She is no stranger here as a reader but now she is actively blogging.

So, please join me in welcoming Lydia Teh, an accomplished writer and author. Last year, at this time I was in Malaysia and was looking at books at MPH to bring back when I saw her book – Life’s Like That and immediately bought it. A few years ago I brought back Malaysian Flavours by Lee Su Kim. These are the kind of books I love reading. Very often we take for granted our Malaysian way of life and when we are thousands of miles away, we yearn to hear the unique Manglish that is such a reflection of our soceity, our habits and taboos and culture that can only be Malaysian and none other. I used to love reading Adibah Amin’s As I was Passing and Lee Su Kim and Lydia Teh do remind me of that style of writing.

I find that these books are also useful in briefings to expats going to work and live in Malaysia. Lydia in Life’s Like That brings us scenes from Malaysian life that we have taken so much for granted and yet instantly recognise ourselves, the minute we read them in print. Lydia has also written a guidebook on how to maximise your chances of winning competitions. This, I must get before trying to get a place in ‘Who Wants to be a Millionaire’.

I don’t know whether we are related in anyway – you know – coming from the same Teh clan..he he, but we’ve hit it off so far...emailing and smsing. Yes, I know I owe you some replies to your emails, Lydia. And thanks for the comforting words in the last one.

So, from Kak Teh to Lydia Teh – Welcome to Bloggers’ World! You’ll be a hit!

The Big D

'tis the reason why


Menyusun jari meminta ampun,
mengundurkan diri Kak Teh memohon,
tugas mendesak hari dah singkat
akan kembali bila dah tamat.

Dear all,
As much as I'd like to stay on and merapu, I really need this intermission to finish some urgent work. Have fun, wish me luck and I will resurface once in a while for some fresh air.

Thank you all for making a very blur Mak Cik happy!

Thank you for the wishes and doa's and thank you to my fellow researchers.

My wonderful fellow researchers


Yaaaaawnnn! 

Syaer Sang Spammer

Tersebut kisah makhluk sang spammer
merayau masuk ke blog sume
tak kira sapa spam saja
nak jual barang nak promote apa?

Entri syaer ku banyak dah kena
dan kawan-kawan juga di sini sana
kami tak perlu viagra dan pill apa-apa
semuanya segar bugar sehat belaka.

Wahai Sang Spammer yang baik budi
tak ada kerja kah sehari-hari
Kak Teh dok delete dah sakit jari
pi lah buat blog sendiri.

Blog Kak Teh janganlah kacau,
kalau dikacau malam-malam mericau,
Jadi, sebelum kita jadi musuh
tolonglah – pergi main jauh-jauh!

Kalau tak juga reti bahasa,
nanti siang tak lena malam jaga,
OOD kuhantar pasti menangis,
baru lu cai makan tak habis!

Syaer Sang Isteri...[1]

Tersebutlah kisah seorang isteri,
pilu dan rawan setiap hari,
resah dan gundah tiada terperi,
dilanda rindu menggigit jari.

Dua hari sudah berlalu,
makan minum tiadalah lalu,
sesuap dua berhenti selalu,
teringatkan kasih hatiku pilu.

Pergimu itu tiada ku tahan,
dua purnama amatlah perlahan
masa berlalu menjadi dugaan,
pesananmu tiada jadi alpaan.

Sebelum kekasih pergi melayang
pesannya satu tiadalahlah kurang:
‘Tinggallah intan tinggallah sayang,
anak dan kucing berilah makang.’ (Treng.sp)

Pergilah kasih pergilah sayang,
lambaianmu masih lagi terbayang,
tiadalah lagi senda gurauan,
untuk penawar hati yang rawan.

Bisik dan janji akan kukenang,
air mata berlinang-linang
membilang hari sampai kau pulang,
tiadalah lagi hati kepalang.

Jaga diri baik-baik Tabby!

A Day at Sandhurst with Officers and Gentlemen

My earliest memory of a British soldier is one so tall that his head was touching our ceiling. But of course, it could be because I was small and short at that time, a mere toddler, (with bedak sejuk plastered on my face), that he would carry on his shoulders.

He came to the house with Pak Lang who was on leave from duties in Hong Kong. Beside him, Pak Lang looked like a midget. But he was such a gentleman, I remember that so well, because he never sort of dismissed me as a child only to be seen and not heard. I remember the black and white photograph of this officer with my Pak Lang – already yellowing at the edges.

But of course he was a gentleman. He was from Sandhurst – the Royal Military Academy – an academy that provides ‘education for gentlemen’.

The past few days, I have been mingling with such officers and gentlemen, who stood to attention when speaking to you and called you ‘maam’. And gosh, the officers do look so much younger these days and you wonder how you can trust them to defend the country.


It has been a hectic few days as the Malaysian monarch is here and what is significant about his visit is that for this year’s passing out parade, our King was given the honour by Queen Elizabeth, to represent her as Reviewing Officer at the Sovereign’s Parade. This is such an honour – there’s only a handful of other monarchs being given such honour.


Anyway, so there I was at the Royal Military College yesterday on a warm summer’s day. The weather, I was told by a young cadet, was just ideal for those on parade. Just the day before, seven passed out in the heat.

Watching the Sovereign’s Parade, so full of pomp and ceremony, so steep in tradition, brought memories of marching in step with the band, flooding back. I was in the school band and I tell you doing the slow march with the drum strapped to your body, while concentrating on how to do the drum roll at same time is not easy. I have never been much of a coordinated person, but I lasted just a year. I think I did better marching with the angklung – not the whole ensemble but just the one with the E note.

Malaysian flag over Salisbury Plains
Anyway, the sound of Negaraku, our national anthem being played in an institution so British, brought tears to my eyes. It had the same effect on me when i saw the Malaysian flag flying over Salisbury Plain the day before when I trooped along with the King’s entourage to a military site in Larkhill.

And yesterday, Malaysia’s 303rd cadet to graduate from Sandhurst was so chuffed that his Reviewing Officer was none other than his own King.
It really made his day. Malaysia started sending military officers for training at Sandhurst since 1950 and our very own King spent two years there from 1964 – 65. As His Majesty was telling us, (Ceeewah!!) as we relaxed on the balcony at Queen Building in Larkhill, after lunch of rice and vegetable curry, watching the cattles grazing in the rolling fields, he truly enjoyed the training offered by Sandhusrt. He had the opportunity to do military exercises in Libya as well as Normandy and experienced walking days and nights in the desert.

The King & I 
It was indeed a rare opportunity, to have the Monarch speaking so freely to us humble journalists, but we were truly honoured and I swear he must have waved at me from his helicopter as it circled above us before flying away.

Back to yesterday’s ceremony, I was so pleased to have this once in a life time opportunity to be there and witness such a grand occassion. It was almost like Ascot ..but for the military. The women were in really fine clothes and beautiful hats, while the men looked so elegant in their military uniforms with medals and swords. So, so handsome and smart. Our own officers were there in the crowd with their wives and you see an interesting assortments of colourful tudungs, with interesting looking hats and songkoks.

On arrival, (the security was of course very tight), we were greeted with 'Selamat pagi', by a Gurkha soldier. Aaaah, of course, I remember them. And when the King and Queen arrived, they lined the route to the pavilion where the Royal couple were sitting.

Excuse me, are you from Malaya? 
Then, as I took my seat, an elegant lady asked me, “Are you from Malaya?”, “Yes, I am from Malaysia”, I said, correcting her. She was so pleased as our presence there and the King’s made it so much more memorable for her as her grandson, the handsome chap on the white horse was commanding the parade that day.
Also, she said, she treasures so many happy memories of Malaya, where they lived for several years when her husband was the State Secretary of Penang. Her son grew up there.

Oh, there’s so much to tell, but I will let the pictures tell the rest of the story.

The Queen's 'Malay' Guard
But one last thing. As we were having our drinks in the building after the parade, we were joined by another dashing, young officer . “Hi, saya orang Melayu,” he said, not quite convincing me. Its true, he insisted, and proceeded to tell me that he was born in Jalan Imbi. His father is English and his mother, a Malay. However, he has joined the British Army and next week, this Malay officer will start his first duty, guarding the Queen of England!
Sandhurst 

Wartime stories - with the War Veterans

Its 9th August - Singapore Independence Day! And its time I dust my shelves and take out old files and albums again.
Three years ago, I attended a gathering of war veterans at the Imperial War Memorial Museum in South London where ex war prisoners met up to remember the 60th anniversary of the fall of Singapore into the hands of the Japanese on 15th February, a day that Winston Churchill described as the greatest disaster in British history. Here was what I wrote then...

"It was a cold bleak day in February when more than 100 Far Eastern PoWs and civilian internees met at this reunion, to yet again relive the experiences of working in labour camps and the notorious Death Railway and to remember their friends and relatives who did not make it home. It must have been a darker day in February 60 years ago for the Singaporeans then as well as the Allied soldiers.


Many were accompanied by their children and grandchildren and it was not difficult to spot the veterans. These British war veterans, who had served in Malaya and Singapore, came with their medals, walking sticks and in their wheelchairs and the painful, bitter memories of their embittered years as prisoners of war.

One even came with a painting of a harrowing image that still haunts his days and nights, but putting it on canvas has helped him to cope. Besides their impressive array of medals and name tags, they had colour-coded dots to help us identify them. Those with red dots, and there were quite a few of them, were prisoners of war. Green-dot bearers were civilian internees while those with blue dots were those who managed to escape and the ones with black dots were child evacuees.

But there was one distinguished-looking man whose surname could not have made it very easy for him to turn up and mingle with the rest. He was Brigadier James Percival, son of Lt-General Arthur Percival who was in command of the Allied Forces during the war. He was also the one who surrendered the supposedly-impregnable fortress of Singapore to the Japanese, which to Churchill was "a grievious and shameful blow to British prestige." The fall of Singapore did have dire consequences for the thousands of men, women and children who were forced to work in terrible conditions. Many did not survive. A few came to tell their stories again.

For the junior Percival, who himself served in Malaya fighting the terrorists in the Fifties, criticisms levelled at his father were unfair.
"He never had any conscience about surrendering Singapore because he always felt that if we had not surrendered it, the civilian population would have been annihilated by the Japanese," Percival said of his father. Although his father never spoke about the surrender, he knew that his father was bitter till his death, as all the blame for the loss of Singapore was on his shoulders. "The reason we lost that particular campaign was one of resources and we as a country were very pressed in the Middle East (and) on the Russian front. We didn't have many tanks in Malaya or sufficient ships. "So that was the result. He didn't have enough to fight with. We didn't know very much about fighting in the jungle and the Japanese knew a lot about it. He was a very honourable person and with his upbringing, he kept a stiff upper lip," said the younger Percival.

General Percival and his troops remained as prisoners of war until the end of the Second World War. He died in 1966 at the age of 78.

Robert Brook was a mere child when he and his parents were thrown into Changi prison.
"As children, we were better treated by the Japanese. They were strict with education and insisted that we be given sterilised milk," he remembers.

But for others, there were no fond memories. Wing Commander Peter Kingwill, who was a flight lieutenant with the Royal Air Force and served in Kuantan during the Japanese landing in Kota Baru, spoke of the starvation and tropical diseases he had to endure. He worked on the Death Railway for three years after his plane was shot down in southern Thailand. Not many escaped but one did and lives to tell the story. Roy Pagani, who was a corporal with the Reconnaissance Regiment, stained his skin with burnt rice and walked barefooted for 400km wearing a lungyi.

"What can I say; we were slaves on that railway track and many people died carrying the sleepers. So I had to escape."

Escape was not the end of the story, for it was only the beginning of nightmares for some.How does one cope with the trauma that haunts every waking hour only to turn into nightmares at night? Ronald Delavigne, who was imprisoned in Japan exorcised his nightmares onto canvasses. What he showed us was harrowing, what he experienced was worse. "The older I get, I become more intolerant of people who complain about being hungry, cold and wet. I think to myself, they don't know what it means to be hungry, cold or wet. But I am glad they didn't know," Delavigne says. Bitter as he is, he cannot hate his captors. He told a story about a Japanese worker, who gave him tobacco at the risk of losing his own head. The Japanese worker also helped him with his digging chores as Delavigne had broken his leg. On the day of his departure, he met the old man again and was invited into his house.

"He gave his tobacco pipe as a memento. He helped me," he sobbed. "So how can I say I hate all Japanese?"

The people in that room that day share a lot together. They appreciate solidarity, friendship and human kindness although it can be difficult for them to explain to those who never went through their ordeal. "

But pls continue sharing your stories in the entry below - ones that you hear from your parents or grandparents.