Sometimes I find that London is crowding me and fuelling my lung with polluted air. I like London and at the moment I don’t think I can live anywhere else, but once in a while I have to get away from the bustling city life. I had to get out fast to rejuvenate myself. London does have quite a lot of interesting parks whatsoever but it’s a definite no-no (unless I don’t have any other choices) because I think the city is kind of short of fresh air.
I guess the destination of my weekend getaways depends on my mood but they all must be nature induced. I miss the times in MO, where I can just take an hour or two off to Devil’s Ice Box or Finger Lakes. Or the Cosmo Park since they’re all not too far from home.
Anyway, this time I chose to go back to Skipton, located in the Yorkshire Dales National Park (YD). I said back because it is a town where I started my life in the UK and it’s the town that offered me chances. I won’t be able to live there anymore but I will surely go back for it’s wonderful sceneries.
My first job gave me a lot of chances to explore Yorkshire. Armed with a fleet of ice cream vans, my friends and I drove everywhere in the country from busy cities like Cardiff and Leeds to Malham and Dent, two quiet villages in the middle of nowhere.
The work was hard but the rewards were sweeter. I love driving on the single-track road in the dales along side the creeks and sheep with coloured spots on them, looking at me curiously. Sometimes when I wasn’t pressed for time, I would stop and just enjoy the lovely views. I can lose myself and engross in my own thoughts about a happier life and a peaceful world without a care for others. I just wanted to be left alone.
This time around, I had the pleasure of exploring the YD again. It was so refreshing to go back and see it from the eyes of tourists. Walking at a slow pace without the need to hurry, I find that the view is and will always be magnificent. And I can’t help but sing What a Wonderful World. For a while there, I felt connected with the world of cattle and vast countryside.
Monday 20 December 2004
Tuesday 14 December 2004
My Fairy Goddaughter
Earlier today, a little girl was born to a lovely couple. She will be the apple of her parents though her name is not Apple.
After all the scares her mom went through, she's finally out and about, sharing the same breathing space with us. She has tiny fingers and toes and she's a month early but in no time at all she will start kicking and jumping around.
Before she opens her eyes, she has already been given a book, A Little Lamb, but she has a long wait before she can start turning the pages. Once she knows how to use a girl's charm, she'll wrap us around her little fingers and not let go. With many uncles and aunties around to spoil her, she won't be short of anything.
Little Ellynor Sofia, welcome to our world. Be good, ok.
After all the scares her mom went through, she's finally out and about, sharing the same breathing space with us. She has tiny fingers and toes and she's a month early but in no time at all she will start kicking and jumping around.
Before she opens her eyes, she has already been given a book, A Little Lamb, but she has a long wait before she can start turning the pages. Once she knows how to use a girl's charm, she'll wrap us around her little fingers and not let go. With many uncles and aunties around to spoil her, she won't be short of anything.
Little Ellynor Sofia, welcome to our world. Be good, ok.
Monday 6 December 2004
Melayu losers? He can't be..
Last March when I was back home, my nephew, who is 14, mentioned about his schoolteachers being a prick. Well, that is actually my word, not his.
You see, he goes to Maktab Mahmud. In Kedah, it is quite a difficult school to get in because they only choose the bright ones and the boys were interviewed for their Arabic and Quran knowledge. The school is considered a prestigious academic institution that balances the dunia and akhirat. Or so I guess.
It seems like lately the teachers are ignoring Afiq in classes because he always put his hand up to answer questions. He is not a Know-It-All boy but because he is encouraged to be proactive in school by his mother and me, he became a bit confident. We always told him that it doesn’t matter whether his answer is right or wrong, he has to speak up. He did follow our advice, and because he is a bright boy he mostly got the correct answers.
My sister and I were horrified by his stories that his Math, Science and English teachers are now closing one eye and pretending not to see his raised arm. I understand completely the case where there is always someone in the class who has the answer to everything and annoys other pupils. But now that I am older, I would actually appreciate the situation because indirectly he or she is sharing the knowledge.
Obviously, the teachers think that Afiq is irritating and showing off. It looks like they are against him. As a result, he is now a little bit discouraged and reluctant to participate, as he sees no point in it. I
n this time, where everything around us evolves so fast, we have to keep up to the changes or else be left behind. Yet, the Malaysian education system is still far behind compared to the fast paced Malaysian technology and industry.
I am tired of listening to the Cabinet Ministers who keep reminding all to master the English language. I am tired of reading reports that local undergraduates should master languages including English to excel in education as well as to ensure a brighter future.
What is the whole point of these reminders when a kampung boy like Afiq (and I’m sure there are lot more boys and girls like him) found the courage to speak up and was shot down faster the bazooka being fired? They die without even trying. And people are complaining that the youngsters can’t speak good English or lack self-confidence? Duh!
The local undergrads are worse. At this level, they just didn’t want to try anymore and always finding excuses for lack of ability to speak English. Malulah. In kampung, people don’t speak English. Takut salah. Tak pandai. Takut orang kata showing off.
Nothing anyone could do to change this attitude until they themselves have the awareness and want to change. In the meantime, they’re just a bunch of losers. I do not want Afiq or any of my anak buah to end up like the rest of Melayu losers, so I’m going to keep pushing him. My sister, on the other hand, used a very direct approach. She filed a complaint with the school about his teachers. Bravo Sis. His teachers can eat shit!
You see, he goes to Maktab Mahmud. In Kedah, it is quite a difficult school to get in because they only choose the bright ones and the boys were interviewed for their Arabic and Quran knowledge. The school is considered a prestigious academic institution that balances the dunia and akhirat. Or so I guess.
It seems like lately the teachers are ignoring Afiq in classes because he always put his hand up to answer questions. He is not a Know-It-All boy but because he is encouraged to be proactive in school by his mother and me, he became a bit confident. We always told him that it doesn’t matter whether his answer is right or wrong, he has to speak up. He did follow our advice, and because he is a bright boy he mostly got the correct answers.
My sister and I were horrified by his stories that his Math, Science and English teachers are now closing one eye and pretending not to see his raised arm. I understand completely the case where there is always someone in the class who has the answer to everything and annoys other pupils. But now that I am older, I would actually appreciate the situation because indirectly he or she is sharing the knowledge.
Obviously, the teachers think that Afiq is irritating and showing off. It looks like they are against him. As a result, he is now a little bit discouraged and reluctant to participate, as he sees no point in it. I
n this time, where everything around us evolves so fast, we have to keep up to the changes or else be left behind. Yet, the Malaysian education system is still far behind compared to the fast paced Malaysian technology and industry.
I am tired of listening to the Cabinet Ministers who keep reminding all to master the English language. I am tired of reading reports that local undergraduates should master languages including English to excel in education as well as to ensure a brighter future.
What is the whole point of these reminders when a kampung boy like Afiq (and I’m sure there are lot more boys and girls like him) found the courage to speak up and was shot down faster the bazooka being fired? They die without even trying. And people are complaining that the youngsters can’t speak good English or lack self-confidence? Duh!
The local undergrads are worse. At this level, they just didn’t want to try anymore and always finding excuses for lack of ability to speak English. Malulah. In kampung, people don’t speak English. Takut salah. Tak pandai. Takut orang kata showing off.
Nothing anyone could do to change this attitude until they themselves have the awareness and want to change. In the meantime, they’re just a bunch of losers. I do not want Afiq or any of my anak buah to end up like the rest of Melayu losers, so I’m going to keep pushing him. My sister, on the other hand, used a very direct approach. She filed a complaint with the school about his teachers. Bravo Sis. His teachers can eat shit!
Saturday 4 December 2004
Dark Side of Life
Life is hard. Nobody ever said that it’s a piece of cake. All the frustration, disappointment and later on the achievement and happiness make up a complete set of life cycle. You and I have been through a lot, no matter how old we are. A young girl of 18 experiences the kind of feelings just the same as a 45-year-old woman if loneliness has its way. Even a mature man can act like an adolescent if he kept his frustration boiling inside. There must be a way to deal with all these. That’s what we are here for. To find a way to get around it.
Running away, however, is not an option anymore.
There was a girl I once know very well. In her early life, she had love and guidance. Her mother died when she barely finished university. She only cried once when she helped bathe her mother and didn’t cry again when the coffin was taken to the mosque and her mother was buried next to the grandparents. Things were blur and distant. She never shed any tears at the airport when she left her family in pursue of better education.
She was lost. Angry. Hurt. Life was unfair. She turned rebellious and became comfortable with her loneliness. She kept on smiling, but deep down she had a darker side. Instead of dressing like the next-door girl, she put on black attires from head to toe. Black lipstick. Black nail polish. Black shades. Black eye shadow. She was being pulled into a cult obsession. Reading materials were of satanic society, black magic and superstitious being.
Six months later, she finally broke down and cried in her sleep when the vision of her mother came in her dream. Her mother was holding out her hands and reaching for the girl before the girl destroys herself completely. The girl wept endlessly on the bed. It was a very sad image, but somehow it brought her back to the ground.
Her solitude continued but in a different way. She found peace by going for walks at the lakes, holding a fishing rod and enjoying the nature. Being the youngest, she had her sister and brothers as role model but she felt the love and guidance slowly changing. In her mind, she was on her own struggling to move on while the rest of the family got on with their own life. She was not sure what to do with hers. Her father followed the path of her mother soon after and this time she was truly by herself. She kept well away from family gatherings because she didn’t feel she belongs anymore.
People saw her as a happy person, who probably has no fear at whatever being thrown at her. But in reality, she drifted from job to job, found no happiness and slowly going into the state of depression. She was scared. Along the way, there were real friends who stood by her and never got tired of giving encouragement. They believe in her.
She is slowly getting back on her feet although it is taking her 8 years to get there. From a distance, there is a light at the end of the tunnel and the light won’t go off unless she pulls the switch. The bitter girl I once knew has slowly changed and become a new person with more positive vibes. It will take her a while to fully recover and reach her peak, but she is heading towards the right direction. And she wants me to let you know that she is still smiling and her darker side has shrunk, but not completely gone.
Running away, however, is not an option anymore.
There was a girl I once know very well. In her early life, she had love and guidance. Her mother died when she barely finished university. She only cried once when she helped bathe her mother and didn’t cry again when the coffin was taken to the mosque and her mother was buried next to the grandparents. Things were blur and distant. She never shed any tears at the airport when she left her family in pursue of better education.
She was lost. Angry. Hurt. Life was unfair. She turned rebellious and became comfortable with her loneliness. She kept on smiling, but deep down she had a darker side. Instead of dressing like the next-door girl, she put on black attires from head to toe. Black lipstick. Black nail polish. Black shades. Black eye shadow. She was being pulled into a cult obsession. Reading materials were of satanic society, black magic and superstitious being.
Six months later, she finally broke down and cried in her sleep when the vision of her mother came in her dream. Her mother was holding out her hands and reaching for the girl before the girl destroys herself completely. The girl wept endlessly on the bed. It was a very sad image, but somehow it brought her back to the ground.
Her solitude continued but in a different way. She found peace by going for walks at the lakes, holding a fishing rod and enjoying the nature. Being the youngest, she had her sister and brothers as role model but she felt the love and guidance slowly changing. In her mind, she was on her own struggling to move on while the rest of the family got on with their own life. She was not sure what to do with hers. Her father followed the path of her mother soon after and this time she was truly by herself. She kept well away from family gatherings because she didn’t feel she belongs anymore.
People saw her as a happy person, who probably has no fear at whatever being thrown at her. But in reality, she drifted from job to job, found no happiness and slowly going into the state of depression. She was scared. Along the way, there were real friends who stood by her and never got tired of giving encouragement. They believe in her.
She is slowly getting back on her feet although it is taking her 8 years to get there. From a distance, there is a light at the end of the tunnel and the light won’t go off unless she pulls the switch. The bitter girl I once knew has slowly changed and become a new person with more positive vibes. It will take her a while to fully recover and reach her peak, but she is heading towards the right direction. And she wants me to let you know that she is still smiling and her darker side has shrunk, but not completely gone.
Friday 3 December 2004
No problem, mate!
Telephone conversation is addictive. I was chatting on the phone with The Mentor for more than an hour from 17:11 to 18:43. Gosh, since I started driving from Winchester till I got home and parked in front of the flat. The Mentor always has something to say and after she finished giving some pep talk about work, we moved on to personal matters.
I mentioned to her that my boxing class is horrifying but awesome and I am having a good time, even though I can hardly lift my arms. My whole body is so sore from all the punches, jabs and kicks, and when I had to shift the gear while driving, the left arm just hurts so much. It’s a nightmare but odd enough, I am going back for more.
During our long chat, I told her about the talk I had with Martin last night. I am at a point where I am getting a bit frustrated because it seems like there is no two-way interaction. He keeps moaning, yet he does nothing about his situation. A lot of people talk to him and try to help; but I think that whatever advice people gave him just goes out through the window. He gave up easily and when he finally did something, I don’t think he tried hard enough. I don’t know what else I can do to help this guy. Hah! I needed help myself.
As we progressed, The Mentor had a go at me and pointed out my weaknesses. According to her, I need to toughen up because I am too giving and too softhearted. I always do something for someone without hesitate and didn't expect people to return a favour, which I think is true. Last week I helped moved this huge wardrobe from her house to her mother’s house in my little van. For me, this thing is nothing. It is something you would do for a friend. I would gladly do it again and again. She said to me she is waiting for me to ask for a favour and if I did, she would do anything for me, but she knew I wouldn’t ask. Wow! This coming from the director of company I work for. Some people wouldn’t miss this opportunity to ask a person of her position, but not me. I can’t do it and even if I can, I don’t know how. That’s the way I am.
Every now and then, when a friend asks for a favour, it’s always no problem for me. Last year on three separate occasions, I was busy travelling around the country doing my job but I keep a place in west London. I was going to Edinburgh when a friend called up several times and said his friends needed a place to stay. I didn’t know the girls but I left the key to my room with my housemate. They came and stayed there for a few days and when I came back, they already moved out since they found their own place. We never even met! Unbelievable. What if one of them was a psycho? But then again, you can’t go thinking too much about it either. What if they were just harmless and desperately needed the help?
The thing is you can’t just help someone and expect to be rewarded. It’s not ikhlas then. When I offer my help to someone, they do not have to return the favour but instead they can turn around and help someone else. You know, like Pay It Forward the movie. Plus, I always think we should lend a helping hand whenever we can because we just never know when we will need it back. Today is my happy day, but tomorrow could be my unlucky day.
I mentioned to her that my boxing class is horrifying but awesome and I am having a good time, even though I can hardly lift my arms. My whole body is so sore from all the punches, jabs and kicks, and when I had to shift the gear while driving, the left arm just hurts so much. It’s a nightmare but odd enough, I am going back for more.
During our long chat, I told her about the talk I had with Martin last night. I am at a point where I am getting a bit frustrated because it seems like there is no two-way interaction. He keeps moaning, yet he does nothing about his situation. A lot of people talk to him and try to help; but I think that whatever advice people gave him just goes out through the window. He gave up easily and when he finally did something, I don’t think he tried hard enough. I don’t know what else I can do to help this guy. Hah! I needed help myself.
As we progressed, The Mentor had a go at me and pointed out my weaknesses. According to her, I need to toughen up because I am too giving and too softhearted. I always do something for someone without hesitate and didn't expect people to return a favour, which I think is true. Last week I helped moved this huge wardrobe from her house to her mother’s house in my little van. For me, this thing is nothing. It is something you would do for a friend. I would gladly do it again and again. She said to me she is waiting for me to ask for a favour and if I did, she would do anything for me, but she knew I wouldn’t ask. Wow! This coming from the director of company I work for. Some people wouldn’t miss this opportunity to ask a person of her position, but not me. I can’t do it and even if I can, I don’t know how. That’s the way I am.
Every now and then, when a friend asks for a favour, it’s always no problem for me. Last year on three separate occasions, I was busy travelling around the country doing my job but I keep a place in west London. I was going to Edinburgh when a friend called up several times and said his friends needed a place to stay. I didn’t know the girls but I left the key to my room with my housemate. They came and stayed there for a few days and when I came back, they already moved out since they found their own place. We never even met! Unbelievable. What if one of them was a psycho? But then again, you can’t go thinking too much about it either. What if they were just harmless and desperately needed the help?
The thing is you can’t just help someone and expect to be rewarded. It’s not ikhlas then. When I offer my help to someone, they do not have to return the favour but instead they can turn around and help someone else. You know, like Pay It Forward the movie. Plus, I always think we should lend a helping hand whenever we can because we just never know when we will need it back. Today is my happy day, but tomorrow could be my unlucky day.
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