“Hurry Up! The Train is coming!” At the time when my sister entered English medium secondary school in 1963, she had to go through Remove Class as she was from a vernacular school which was Pai Teik Chinese Primary School. At that time the Methodist Secondary School in Nibong Tebal did not have Remove Class. The nearest English school offering Remove Classes was Bukit Mertajam High School which was 15 miles North of Nibong Tebal.

It was a financial constraint on the part of my eldest brother to send my sister to study at Bukit Mertajam as extra expenditure had to be spent on transport as well as food if she were to stay back for extra-curricular activities.

As my sister was very keen to study, my eldest brother had to tighten the belt to comply with her perseverance and insistence to study. She and a few other classmates were admitted to the Remove Class in BM High School. This was the first time the school tradition of BM High School was broken to enrol girls in the Remove Class; my sister happened to be one of the few girls to be enrolled.

At that time a total of forty over students from Pai Teik Chinese Primary School qualified to be admitted to the Government Secondary schools had to travel all the way to Bukit Mertajam to study. About six of them studied at BM High School while the rest at Jit Sin Chinese Secondary School.

The cheapest means of transport to Bukit Mertajam at that time was by train. The train fare was 35 cents per trip per student from Nibong Tebal to Bukit Mertajam. A student could also get a season ticket valid for one school term at a price of thirty odd dollars.

The students would catch the northbound train at 5.55am and reached Bukit Mertajam at 6.15am. If a student happened to miss the train, then he had to pay 75 cents to catch a bus to school.

For every school day it was not uncommon that the town folks were waken up early in the morning, not by alarm clocks, but by the rushing footsteps of the students heading for the railway station. Intermittently, the quietness and serenity in the early morning of the town was pierced by the yells of boys, “Hurry up! The train is coming!”[ "快点！火车来了！" ] One would wonder if the late Tan Sri Datuk Professor Ir. Chin Fung Kee, the country's most distinguished engineer, would do the same to rush for the train as he was once a boy at Nibong Tebal studying in BM High School.

In order not to miss the train, my sister had to wake up before 5.30 am in the morning. My mother would get the breakfast ready. Usually, she would prepare alternatively either, noodle soup, fried rice or egg porridge as our breakfast. My sister was given $3 a day by my father, $1.50 for transport and $1.50 for pocket money. After taking the breakfast, my sister and her friends walked to the railway station accompanied by my father as it was still dark on the streets.
My sister had a lot of stories to tell about the journeys on the train. The one that most amused me was about my next door neighbour by the name of Teoh Swee Leng. He studied together with my sister in BM High School. He had been fooled by his friends to take a free ride to Ipoh. As Swee Leng had to help his father to run a coffee stall at night and to wake up early the next day for school, he usually fell asleep in the train on his journey back to Nibong Tebal. Once, his friends decided not to wake him up when the train reached Nibong Tebal. The train brought him to Ipoh. From there he had to catch another train back to Nibong Tebal. By the time he reached home, it was almost 8pm in the evening.

After one year of rushing for the train to study in Bukit Mertajam, my sister and some of her friends applied back to Nibong Tebal to study at Methodist Secondary School. This saved them quite substantially, the time, the money and the trouble in traveling in their pursuit of knowledge. Thus, the episodes of their traveling by train came to an end.

http://zest-zipper.blogspot.com/2013/01/train-journeytrain-mindfulness.html

Playing Ping Pong with the Wall



My second brother died of heart attack on the 4th of March, 1997. A year later, my nephew went to Singapore to enquire about the procedures for the release of my brother’s Central Provident Fund as he had worked there before.

One month later, my nephew received a letter dated 4th May 1998 from Madam Rozi Isahak of the Withdraw Branch of the Fund Board to ask him to furnish the names, the Identity Card Numbers and the current addresses of the deceased’s siblings.

Later, after another one and a half months , my nephew was served a reminder letter dated 22nd Jun 1998 from the same lady, as he was slow in his reply to the earlier letter.

My nephew then had to act fast to send the certified copies of the birth certificates of my deceased brother and mine with a cover letter dated 16th July, 1998 to prove my relationship with the deceased.

Within two weeks, I received a letter from the Central Provident Fund Board of Singapore dated 31st July to ask me to complete an enclosed form CPF-D(1) and at the same time to make a Statutory Declaration before a Notary Public(a Notary Public is a person, especially a lawyer, with official authority to be a WITNESS when somebody signs a document and to make this document valid in law). I was further instructed in the letter to get a Notary Public to certify true the photocopies of my Identity Card and bank statement.

I went down to Kuala Lumpur to see my sister. She introduced me to a prominent lawyer friend of her who was a Notary Public to witness and certify my documents.

The next day,I quickly sent the documents in an AR registered letter dated 12th September 1998. In the same month I received an acknowledgement letter dated 30th September 1998 in a registered post. Attached with the letter was my original bank statement.

By November, I received a bank draft of S$1172.96 in a registered post dated 20th Nov 1998 from the Central Provident Fund Board of Singapore. I returned the money to my eldest brother as my second brother had borrowed quite a big sum of money from him before.

From my dealing with the Central Provident Fund Board of Singapore, I noticed that the Board had acted in a speedy, accurate and no nonsense manner. When we were slow in our reply, the Board would send us a reminder. Every letter sent out by the Board was in a registered post; there was no question of the letter not received by the recipient. Apart from that, all the documents had to be either witnessed or certified by a Notary Public. The bank statement which I assumed unimportant was also returned to me in registered post.

I would like to draw an analogy of my dealing with the Central Provident Fund Board of Singapore. It is like me playing ping pong with the wall. Every time when I strike the ball against the wall, it bounces back immediately. The wall reacts spontaneously to every stroke of mine without fail. I can never beat the wall. Neither can I beat the efficiency of the Central Provident Fund Board of Singapore.

The Pioneers in Doing the Recycling Work

kerosene lamp

At the time my eldest brother was converted to sheet metal worker forty nine years ago, our financial resources were quite limited. It was not easy for my father to raise money from friends and relatives then as his old debts were not settled yet. Moreover, my brother was a novice in the trade. He had to do apprenticeship under the guidance of his ‘sifu’ [师父, Master] Uncle Chen Peng Nam [曾炳南].

Uncle Peng Nam was our back door neighbour. He was the one who encouraged my family to go into this sheet metal work business. He promised to teach my bother the skill in this trade. In return, we had to allow him to use a portion of our shop as his work site. That was the deal of mutual understanding.

Both my elder sister and I played a supporting role in helping my brother in his first business project of making a simple item, that is, to make kerosene lamps out of milk tin cans.

Early on a Sunday morning, we were woke up by our father to go out to collect empty milk tin cans from our neighbourhood. Each one of us carried a big bamboo basket almost half as tall as our heights. We walked through the back lanes of the shop houses or residential areas as rubbish was usually dumped in the backyards. We only collected empty milk tin cans. Most of the empty tin cans were found behind the coffee shops. When our bamboo baskets were full of milk tin cans, it was time for us to go home. Once in a while, my father would bring us to a Mamak stall to have a piece of roti canai and a cup of coffee each as a reward for the mission we accomplished.

The milk tin cans that we collected were given to my mother to clean. They were soaked, cleaned and rinsed with water and left under the sun to dry. After that, my father would help my eldest brother to cut the tin cans into shapes and then shoulder them to make kerosene lamps ready for sale.

During the course of our collection of milk tin cans, there was not always incident free. Sometimes we were being chased by stray dogs. We had to use our baskets to ward off the enemies. We were also been taught to pretend to squad down to pick a stone to throw at them. This would frighten them off. Other than dogs, geese would also chase after us as we were trespassing their territory. As far as possible, we would try to avoid them by taking a detour.

As the saying goes, ‘No flower would blossom for hundred days’ [花无百日开]. Weeks later, we had to go home with empty baskets. We later found out there was a contender in milk tin can collection business. His name was Lye Teik Sing [赖德兴] living in our neighbourhood. He was a few years our senior. He woke up earlier than us to ‘sweep’ all the tin cans he could find. When it came to our turn, there was hardly any left.

Our counter move was to wake up even earlier than our keen competitor. My sister and I were already in the back lane before dawn to do the collection in the dark. Sometimes, when we were confronted with a policeman, he would advice us to go home for our own safety.

Much has been said about the needs for recycling projects in recent years. We had done it forty nine years ago without knowing that we were doing it. So to say, we are the pioneers in doing the recycling work; my sister and me inclusive. Agree?

My Consultant from the Fourth Dimension

I was transferred from the Berapit Secondary School to the Taman Sejahtera Secondary School on the 6th of February, 2003 to teach Form 1 and Form 2 the Living Skills subject; a subject that I never taught before.

In the subsequent year, I was given back Mathematics to teach. As such I was entitled to apply for the allowance of teaching Science and Mathematics. I submitted my application dated 29.1.2004. My school clerk assured me that I would get it as I had fulfilled all the necessary conditions, among others, I had a credit in English for SC/MCE Examination and I had been teaching Mathematics for almost 26 years.

On the 15th October in the same year, after a period of about nine months, my application was then rejected with a brief hand written memo from a clerk at the Penang Education Department stated in Malay language as “ Dikembalikan. Tidak memenuhi syarat. Jadual tidak boleh ‘break’” [literally means: Form returned. Condition not fulfilled. Should not have break in the time tables for the teaching of Mathematics]. I was not convinced with such rejection, in form as well as in substance. I then submitted my appeal letter to the Penang Chief Education Officer by AR Registered on 28th January, 2005 and the carbon copies of it in registered post were sent to The Chief Secretary in the Ministry of Education and the Secretary General of National Union of Teaching Profession.

On the morning of 23rd February, I received a phone call from the Human Resource department of the Education Ministry to check my present status in school and the subjects I was teaching during those two years.

On the 7th of April, the Secretary General of National Union of Teaching profession, Madam Lok Yim Pheng, sent me a letter with the opinion that I did not qualify for the allowance. To me it was like pouring cold water over the hot burning wood.

On the 9th of April, I received a carbon copy of the letter sent from Human Resource Department of the Ministry of Education to the Education Department of Penang, the content of which was to request the later to reconsider my appeal.

Still no news what so ever came from the Education Department of Penang. ‘No news is good news’ was not what I wanted. On 19th of April, I sent and faxed simultaneously the same letter from the Education Ministry to the Head of the Curriculum Section of Penang Education Department for the attention of Dr Goh, hoping that those who were sleeping would not remain sleeping.

A few days later, on 25th of April, I was summoned to the Penang Education Department to explain to Mr. Mawardi the reason why I submitted my appeal letter without following the proper procedure. My reply was that the one supposed to reply my letter did not do so whereas the one I did not expect to reply had been following my case closely. To this, Mr. Mawardi replied that the Penang Education Department did not receive my AR Registered letter. It might have been misplaced during the recent shifting of new office from Georgetown to Bukit Gambier at Gelugor, Penang. According to Mr. Mawardi again, it was not necessary that the person to whom the letter was addressed to should take up the case; those carbon copy letter receiver could take due action too. That was the first time I ever heard of it during my thirty three years of service with the Government. It was entirely new to me.

The next day I telephoned Mr.Mawardi to find out the outcome of my appeal. He still maintained that I was not qualified to get the teaching Science and Mathematics allowance as I did not attend the induction course for teachers converted to teach these two subjects. To this reply I requested him to issue me an official letter of rejection from the Penang Education Department. I waited and waited. No letter came.

While this matter was still unresolved, I thought it would be a good idea to consult the Goddess of Mother Earth [地母娘娘] at a temple in Air Itam, Penang during the month of May. Through a qian[签 ] [a qian is a piece of paper on which an advice or prophecy is written in the form of a poem] .The Goddess gave me a good qian of No 81, stating that my effort would not be in vain as God would be helping me to get the allowance. The sailing boat would carry the treasure home was what she meant.

qian no.89_______qian no.81

By July, there was still no news from the Penang Education Department, either good or bad. On the 15th of July, I wrote another letter to Madam Khadijah of the Human Resource Department of the Education Ministry to thank her for the concern she had shown in my appeal case and at the same time to highlight the very same case that was still unresolved by the Penang Education Department.

In August I made another visit to the Goddess of Mother Earth [地母娘娘] to get further advice. Again, she gave me a good qian[签] of number 89, stating that if I could gather the help of a Samaritan [a person who gives help and sympathy to people who need it], I would be joyous with the treasure brought home.

Again, like my dad and mum before me, I was quite skeptical about the advice or prophecy of this consultant from the fourth dimension because an officer of the Penang Education Department had already verbally turned down my appeal.

Finally, on the 7th of October, my appeal was successful. I was informed by my school clerk, Kak Min, to fill in a form to process my claim of the Science & Mathematics teaching allowance. I got my arrears back dated to January of 2004; the amount totaled up to about RM6000.

Later, I learnt from the letter of approval of my claim from the Penang Education Department I received on 20.10.2005, it was Madam Khadijah whose phone call to the Penang Education Department on 5.10.05 that made my claim possible. Looks like Madam Khadijah was the Samaritan which my consultant referred to.

Luckily, I took the right move to appeal persistently. Otherwise, I would not have sailed in a boat carrying the treasure home as predicted by my consultant from the fourth dimension.

The Three- Steps-One-Bow Dharma Assembly
三步一拜法会

Heng Sure[恒实] and Heng Ch’au [恒朝]

On the eve of the Penang State Governor’s birthday, I paid RM 110 to join The Butterworth Buddhist Association [北海佛教会] on a weekend trip to Sam Poh Wan Futt Chi Temple [三宝万佛寺] at Brincang, Cameron Highlands, to participate in the Three- Steps-One-Bow Dharma Assembly [三步一拜法会] to be held on the Sunday morning.

Three- Steps-One-Bow [三步一拜] is neither an aerobics nor a line dance. It is a Buddhist method of cultivation of physical endurance as well as mental concentration. While reciting the sacred name of a Bodhisattva [菩萨] or a Buddha[佛], a practicing Buddhist will advance three steps simultaneously followed by a bow or prostration. This is repeatedly done until he reaches the destination.

Three- Steps-One-Bow was initially practiced by the Venerable Master Hsu Yun (虚云大师) (1840-1959) He was a renowned Zen master[襌师] and one of the most influential Buddhist teachers of the 19th and 20th centuries. Hsu Yun was born on 26th April 1840 at Chuanchowfu in Fukien province. At the age forty-three, Hsu Yun reflected on his achievements. He regretted his abandonment of his family, and went on a long pilgrimage from Mount P'u T’o [普陀山] to Mount Wutai[五台山] by three-steps-one-bow with the recitation of the sacred name of Manjushri Bodhisattva [文殊菩萨] to pray for the rebirth of his family members in the Pure Land [净土].
In 1977, Heng Sure [恒实] and Heng Ch’au [恒朝], the grand disciples of Hsu Yun, started their unique journey of Three- Steps-One-Bow from downtown L.A. to the City of Ten Thousand Buddhas in Talamage, California. A journey of more than 800 miles that took them two years and nine months to complete. They bowed in serenity. They bowed for the world Peace.

Sam Poh Wan Futt Chi Temple at Brinchang, offers an ideal place for this Three-Steps-One-Bow Dharma Assembly. It has cool weather. The patch of road leading to the temple is always clean and safe for carrying out the activity as hardly any vehicle would pass by before dawn.

The Butterworth Buddhist Association has been organizing this activity of The Three-Steps-One Bow Dharma Assembly for twelve consecutive years with overwhelming support from its members and the public. This year four buses carried 160 passengers participated. Of course the side programme of shopping spree of buying vegetables and local products could be another factor too. On Sunday morning at 4 am, the participants woke up to take a light meal and assembled at the temple compound in front of the main shrine hall by 5 am. After having a short briefing, all the participants walked down 1 km from the temple to the starting point. It took one and a half hours to complete the activity of The Three-Steps-One-Bow Dharma Assembly. By 7.20 am all the participants were already back to the main shrine hall of the temple to hear a Dharma talk.

What the photograph doesn’t “tell”

This family photograph was taken in the year 1950, one year before I was born. In the photograph my dad was holding my adopted second brother and my mum was holding my sister. My eldest brother was standing at the right whereas my adopted sister was standing at the left.

That very year of 1950 my mum gave birth to my sister. Due to the fear that my mum might not be able to conceive another baby boy as her age was catching up, my parents decided to adopt a baby boy from Kuala Ketil, Kedah as my second elder brother.

The fear of my mum was not unfounded. According to the fung- shui [风水] in our family, as was told by my eldest brother, for the past two generations, male offspring was scarce. My grandfather was the only son in the family and my dad was also the only son adopted from a Liao family. Although back in China before my mum came to Malaya, she was assured by her personal consultant, Tai Chi Oi Oi(大姊娘娘，the eldest sister of the seven deities), operated through a medium, that she would give birth to some more boys when she came to Nanyang. She did not believe that prophecy could become a reality. Indeed, it was. My younger brother and I were born later.

To look after the two babies at the same time was not an easy task. My parents thought it would be much cheaper to adopt another daughter than to employ a baby sitter. The daughter adopted was Ah Yung [阿蓉]. She was supposed to help my mum to look after the younger brother and sister.

An unexpected event happened years later. Ah Yung was made pregnant by a shop assistant my father employed. As her stomach was getting bigger day by day, my parents had to let her married to the shop assistant. The personal assistant of my mum had finally become the “permanent personal assistant” of our shop assistant.

This is what the photograph does not “tell”.

Old Khoo_ My Swimming Instructor

Mr. Khoo, 秋森, is my present swimming instructor. At the age of 62, he had qualified as a life guard with the attaining of International Life Saving Certificate. He joined the Butterworth Life Saving Society and took part in the 24 hour swimming relay organized by the society on December, 2005. In that event, every participant had to swim for 2 hours non stop at one go.

Mr.Khoo was a primary school teacher. He started teaching in the year 1957. In his teaching career of 33 years, he never took any medical leave except 4 days he took for his mother’s funeral. He retired 19 years ago. After retirement he tried out several jobs, working as a shop assistant, a factory supervisor and a private school clerk before he finally settled down as a swimming instructor.
At the moment he is a life guard cum swimming instructor attached to BM Country Club. He likes his present job as it provides him an opportunity to have a dairy exercise of swimming. He usually swims for half an hour or so before he goes back for lunch.

He is very ethical in his coaching. He only coaches those who are really interested in swimming. He does not want his learner to waste the money while he wastes the time. He would not accept learners below the age of 9 as he feels that these children are still not ready to learn swimming; they just like to play in the water.

In a swimming course of ten lessons, he will try to teach his students as many skills as they can master. Among the skills he tries to impart are breast strokes, free style swimming and diving. When I was first introduced to him, I was quite sceptical that a man at the age of 74 could still teach me swimming. However, after went through a few lessons with him, I was convinced that I found the right instructor. Unlike other instructors, Mr. Khoo would explain carefully and patiently the mistakes I made in swimming based on his experience, his knowledge of scientific theory and logical reasoning. He helped me to correct my mistakes irrespective of the amount of time spent.

He assured me that even if I cannot master the free style swimming technique by the end of the course, he would still coach me further until I master it. Rarely can one find a dedicated swimming instructor like him, especially in our present commercialized world.

Related stories:
http://zest-zipper.blogspot.com/2012/11/the-marvel-of-watergym-have-you-ever.html
http://zest-zipper.blogspot.com/2013/09/the-demise-of-sports-club.html


 

Fate "fooled" my dad

My dad came from a remote village of Guangdong province, south China. At the early age of twelve, he had already made up of his mind to come to Nanyang (South East Asia) to look for his fortune. A fortune teller predicted his first trip would be a failure and he would be back to China within 100 days after the departure. My dad did not believe the prophecy of the fortune teller. He headed for Singapore as a sinkheh (新客 - literally "new guests"), to work for a distant relative in a restaurant. As he was not accustomed to the climate of Singapore, or maybe due to his overwork, he fell sick with his foot swollen. As he had become a liability to his employer, he was dismissed and sent back to China. By the time he arrived home, it was exactly 100 days from the time he left China.

Four years later, he made another trip back to Malaya, working as an apprentice for a relative at Bagan Serai, in the state of Perak. He was a diligent and intelligent, working day and night, seven days a week, without any complaint. Within a short span of time, he had already picked up multiple skills ranging from doing business in the shop, cooking meals at the kitchen and sewing mosquito nettings at night.

When he saved enough money to start a business, he set up a store in the vicinity of the main bus station at Sungai Petani, Kedah. As his business prospered, he intended to expand his business by opening up a shop at Gurun town. He targeted a shop which was having good business at the time just before my dad took over. The business dropped drastically after my dad acquired it. He was fated to loss money.

He was back to square one. Nevertheless, he strived on. His business went ups and downs from time to time. In between, the three years and eight months of the Japanese occupation of Malaya also affected his business considerably.

After the war, he managed to gather enough capital borrowed from a few relatives to open a shop at Nibong Tebal. As Nibong Tebal was a border town by the side of Krian River which was separating Perak state from the Straits Settlements, smuggling activities was rampant across the river. My dad thought it would be a good investment to open a shop here.
Bad luck struck again. In the early fifties, the State of Emergency was declared. Dad’s business was badly affected. The situation was made worst when a police detective was shot dead at the eating stall just opposite my dad’s shop. Nibong Tebal was listed as a Black Area instantly. Business dropped severely as traveling in and out of the town was made inconvenient due to security check from the police and military personnel.

Finally, my dad had to declare bankruptcy in the year 1959 when I was at Standard 3 year. If my father was not fated to doom in his business, then I do not know what else had caused him that. I believe it was his fate that fooled him all his life. Any way, he was not to be blamed. He had tried hard; only that luck was not with him.

The Apartment Stay at Cameron Highlands

On the 28th of June, we went up the Cameron Highlands to have one night stay at an apartment at Brinchang.
The whole idea to have an extended family gathering was suggested by my niece one month ago. I readily accepted it as it was never done before.
I was entrusted to do the booking of apartment. A friend had recommended me to take an apartment unit at Hillville Rest House situated right at the middle of Brinchang town. I thought it was convenient to stay there too. After an enquiry by phone call on 5.6.08, I made the payment of RM200 for one night’s stay through Internet transaction and a copy of the statement was faxed to the person in charged of the apartments for confirmation.

We started the journey from Bukit Mertajam in the morning to meet my niece and her family at the Bukit Merah Rest & Service Area at around 9.00am. For this trip, my niece’s husband (my nephew in law) was well equipped with high tech equipments like Global Positioning System (GPS) and a set of walkie-talkies to ensure we reach our destination without sweat.

At around 12 noon, we reached Tringkap to have our lunch as we were informed earlier that it would be more expensive to take it at Brinchang where the cut throat business was rampant. Restoran Tringkap was the restaurant recommended by a friend who traveled extensively up the Cameron Highlands. The village chicken, fresh Highlands vegetables and Egg Foo Yong were among the dishes we ordered for lunch.

While eating was in progress, a heavy down pour seemed to upset our programmes completely. We decided to check in our apartment after lunch hoping that the rain would stop soon. My other nephew and nieces from Kuala Lumpur met us at the apartment. As the rain persisted and showed no sign of stopping, we had to proceed with our visit to the Buddhist temple at Brinchang and the Boh Tea Shop at Fairlie estate.

The twin children of my niece were the happiest members in our group. They were running up and down joyously inside the shrine hall of the temple. The elders were having their prayers aspiring to have better luck bestow upon them.

Next, we drove to the Boh Tea Shop at Fairlie estate for a tea break. The journey to the Boh Tea Shop was quite an adventure. The road leading uphill to the Tea Shop was quite narrow and winding. It could only allow a car to pass by. At any sharp turning, we had to give a honk or two to give a warning to the oncoming traffic that our cars were coming. Along the way, we could see the view of green rolling hills, with the neat regular rows of tea plants, which gave a relaxing feeling to all of us.

When we reached the Tea Shop, it was already past 4 o’clock in the evening. By then the guided tour for the visit to the adjacent tea factory was already closed for the day. After releasing the pressure in the toilets, all of us sat down to sip hot tea while at the same time enjoying the beautiful scenery around the shop.

In the evening, we adjourned to the nearby Country Lodge Restaurant for steamboat. Steamboat is a Chinese dish which is very popular among the tourists staying in this cooler night time climate at Cameron Highlands. The hot meal can warm up a chilled body.

The apartment we stayed left much to be desired. In the first place, the pipe water turned out to be “Milo drink”. When complained, was told to be of the God’s will after a heavy down pour. I wondered why a water filter system could not be installed to improve the quality of the water supply. The hot water system was in equally bad condition. It had to be serviced every time the tenants moved in before it could be of service to the occupants. Luckily we did not ask for the extension of another day. If not, all of us had to survive those two days at Cameron Highlands "without taking water and without taking bath".

Next morning, on our way home, we went round to various stalls along the road, buying some fresh vegetables, flowers, strawberry and local products.

This apartment stay, I hope, will be the beginning of many more to come for my extended family members.

My Mum as a 'Public Relation Officer'

My mum came from China in the year 1949 at the age of 39. I was born two years later rightfully as a British subject at Nibong Tebal, Province Wellesley which was part of the Straits Settlements.

My mum could speak no other dialects except her own, Hakka. She could not even speak a word of Malay language. How she managed to obtain her citizenship later is still a mystery to many of us in the family. It was understood that at that time, any immigrant who wanted to get a citizenship in this country, had to pass an interview conducted in Malay Language.

As the majority of the Chinese residents in Nibong Tebal were speaking Teochew dialect, the social circle of my mum had to be confined to a few Hakka families in the area.

My mum had some closed friends staying in and around Nibong Tebal. Once in a while, she would visit them one by one. While we were small, before the school going age, we liked to follow her in her social visits. I was particularly so, as I always anticipated a cup of coffee to be served by the host. If luck was with me then, I might get some other things to fill my stomach.

For every visit that my mum made, she would chat with her friend for hours. They would talk about family affairs, or stories that occurred to them back in their ancestor homes of China. We, the children, either sat quietly listening to their conversation, or we had to find something else to do until it was time to go home.

Like any good diplomatic relationship between two friendly nations, my mum’s visit would be reciprocated by her friend’s visit weeks later. Likewise, coffee would be served to the guest and I too would be given another cup of coffee.

My eldest brother observed that although my mum was poor materially, nevertheless she was always a welcoming figure among her friends, the rich or the poor. That was due to, in my opinion, her sincerity, her trustworthy and her willingness to listen attentively to others that made her so.

Kiyoshi_My Playmate at Kuala Kangsar

Last Monday, on our way back from Cameron Highlands to Bukit Mertajam, we stopped at Kuala Kangsar to pay a visit to my wife’s cousin sister. At the same time I could take a nap there before we continued our journey back home.

Kiyoshi, the only grandson of the cousin sister, was very delighted to see us. He personally gave me 2 pieces of ice cream cakes, telling me to eat one first and to keep the other for the next day. A moment later, he took out from the freezer one of his remaining two cups of ice cream to offer me. I politely turned down the gesture.

Kiyoshi is much closed to me as I am his sole play mate in the house whenever I pay a visit to Kuala Kangsar. He is a cute, energetic and intelligent boy. At the age of 5, he is very playful. The elders have bought him a lot of toys to play. What he really lacks, is not the toys, but the playmate(s).

As there was no child around to play with, I was made his Hobson’s choice. I did not want to disappoint him, so I tried to be quite obliging to cooperate with him, to play whatever games introduced by him. We kicked football; played basketball, badminton, snooker, golf and others. Hiroshi was very creative. He would introduce rules or ways of playing a game.

Once, he did show me how he “repaired” his toy electric car, imitating his mechanic father. At another time, he patiently narrated the stories of his pet, a tortoise.

Although Kiyoshi was playful, he was very rational and understanding. He knew that I was very tired after a long journey; he would allow me to take a nap first. He then played quietly by himself without making noise. After the short nap, I joined him in his play until it was time for us to leave the house.

Free Shows in the Sixties

In post Merdeka years the school children were entertained with a free show during the National Day celebration. Every school in the neighbourhood of Nibong Tebal was given complimentary tickets to be distributed to the pupils. As usual, older pupils from the better classes were given the tickets. On the morning of the National Day, they wore school uniforms to the theatre. Upon producing their complimentary tickets to the ticket checker, they were allowed to take any seats they liked. Usually, those pupils who came earlier would try to occupy the most expensive and exclusive seats in the theatre. Of course, the picture shown was usually an old one which might have been shown repeatedly over the years. The film shown was either a Wild West cowboy picture or a Charlie Chaplin show.

Free show was also provided by the Information Ministry to propagate the success stories of the Government in its effort to improve the living conditions of the people. Once in a couple of months, the mobile unit of the Ministry would come to town to project a free show for all to watch.

Earlier in the day, a radio car would go round the town to inform the people. The children were most delighted to hear the news and they would spread it like wild fires all over the neighbourhood.

Before the sun set, many children were already gathered in the field waiting anxiously to watch the show. A big,white screen was set up in the middle of the field. The film show could be viewed on either side of the screen. Before the show time, the children wasted no time in playing their own games, running around the field chasing one after another.

Show time began as night fell. The mobile unit of the Information Department would start with a documentary film on the development projects carried out by the Government to improve, among others, the living condition of the rural folks. It took about half an hour to run the film. Most viewers, particularly the children, were not interested at all. They continued with their play until a western picture appeared on the screen. All the people seemed to enjoy the English show although hardly anyone of them understood the language.

In the mean time, another party was going on. The mosquitoes were wasting no time in having their long awaited blood sucking feast.

At the end of the show, all went home happily, the town folks as well as the mosquitoes.

Free Shows at the Local Cinema Hall

At Nibong Tebal, there is an old cinema hall by the name of Southern Talkies. (A talkie, according to Oxford Advanced Learner’s Dictionary, is a film/movie that has sounds and not just pictures.)According to a friend of mine, this theatre has a history of not less than 100 years old. I do not know how far it is true.

During my Standard Four year in the primary school, it had been my daily routine to watch cinema show in the evening. The show would last for about two hours, starting from 7.00 pm till 9.00 pm. I used to have my daily doss of free show either by hook or by crook. Of course there were times I was quite frustrated for not being able to be admitted to the theatre after my repeated attempts.

In the evening, about half an hour before the show time, I would stand nearby the theatre pleading to any prospective cinema viewer by saying, `Uncle/Auntie, please take me into the theatre.' Some cinema-goers were quite obliging; others were not. When I was lucky, a man would hold my arm to bring me through main entrance and to allow me to sit beside him. To a lady who was not so willing to bring me into the cinema hall, I still clung to her by holding a portion of her dress as she walked through the entrance. Sometimes I even walked side by side among the children in a family pretending to be a member of the family. As I always appeared in the vicinity of the theatre, the ticket checker, by the nickname of 不倒翁(in Chinese it means a toy that assumes the form of Bodhidharma in a sitting position), could recognize me as a fake child of umpteen cinema viewers. So, it is at his mercy to allow me to enjoy a free show or otherwise.

Another means by which I could watch a free show was to hide in the toilet for at least half an hour before the show began. When show time started, the entire hall would be in total darkness. At that moment, I would quietly sneak into the theatre from the toilet to find an empty seat in the middle of a row. Hiding in the ladies’ toilets would be safer still as the ticket checker seldom checked the ladies’ toilets before the show.

Another desperate attempt to get a free show was a concerted effort by a few notorious boys. These boys, including my second brother, were already blacklisted by the ticket checker. They had no chance to enter the theatre through the main entrance. What they did was to climb over an eight foot tall plank wall or to crawl through a pre-dug hole beneath the wall.

As the toilets were situated outside the theatre, a high wooden plank wall was erected to enclose the toilets and the cinema hall. I could not remember how many times I followed my second brother to climb over the wall by stepping over the shoulder of another boy and went down from the toilet wall to walk into the cinema hall through the door adjacent to the toilets. In the process of climbing, one might be injured due to accident.

Another safer method was to dig beforehand a big hole beneath the wall and covered it with a piece of cardboard. On top of the cardboard was covered with soil to make it unnoticed by others. During the show time, one by one, the boys would crawl through the hole to get into the theatre.

Not all attempts to get into the cinema hall were fruitful. Sometimes, the boys would be caught in the act. Others still had to leave the theatre if they failed to produce counterfoil tickets when confronted by the ticket checker inside the theatre.

I was lucky all the while for not being caught by the checker. It was either I had an innocent look, or I was an excellent pretender to be a good boy.