Yours truly will be flying, yes, you heard it right! Flying to Langkawi tomorrow. Considering the fact that this will be my first time, let's just hope I don't have any fear of flying shall we?
Looking forward to some sand, sun and surf.
and doing ab-so-lute-ly nothing.
Will be back on Monday.
Cheers!
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
Sunday, February 19, 2006
Snapshots of Melaka, Bandar Bersejarah
In case anyone missed me over the weekend, which I doubt very much anyone did, I was in Malacca, with me family.
Presenting...*drumrolls*.. snapshots of Malacca!
First up, Holland. With yellow, 'tahi ayam' flowers.. according to my aunt. But I didn't go smell them to confirm though.
Presenting...*drumrolls*.. snapshots of Malacca!
First up, Holland. With yellow, 'tahi ayam' flowers.. according to my aunt. But I didn't go smell them to confirm though.
A clock tower near Stadhuys. Didn't get to go up to the museum eventhough I'd like to.
"Hmm..darling..shall we go for a stroll on the absolutely adorable flower-adorned trishaw?"
Who am I kidding. Most probably, "Eh, Want to sit ar?"
Mary ar..how does your garden grow?
With something bells and something shells, and pretty maidens all in a row!
At the Jonker Walk.
"Everybody turn behind ! Take picture !"
Voila.
Explored antiquities, fridge magnets, souvenirs, laksa, chendol, road side dim sum, fried 'lou pak ko', round bread, waffle hotdogs...you get the drift.
There was this karaoke competition going on too..Chinese oldies and CNY songs..One of the contestants even came on full swing in a 'Choy San' costume..with beard, platforms and all!
*sigh..
Malacca, lovely place to lepak, chill and eat.
Soak up on the culture and
at the same time, soak up
the Sun.
Burning sun.
Travelling's great...especially with loved ones!
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Monday, February 13, 2006
Of decisions, listening to my heart and life.
It was late Sunday night when I decided that I'd take my life in my hands and made up my mind that I do NOT like to be unhappy.
Ironically, at the same time, I hate the thought of giving up easily, and allowing others to sense some kind of failure or helplessness in me. Maybe all I ever intended is to jaga my air muka but I strongly suspect that I just want other people to like me and to praise me, as conceited as that sounds. I felt that I couldn't bear to taint my name.
But I made up my mind.
And the next morning, after getting permission from my father, I told the principal that I wanted out. That I can only work til Tuesday.
I sensed hostility. And I was right. Hostility came right at me, like splintered knives that carved at will. Words are indeed sharper than swords. For a split second I doubted my decision. I imagined myself being ostracized and destroying years of good relationship with them. And I hated the thought that she would think lowly of me.
I imagined that I would meet them somewhere and they'd brush me off.
I imagined that the whole world would somehow get some drift that I was bad and useless and all that.
Somehow, I wasn't as bad a shape as I could be.
She told me I need only work til today.
Hmm.
Am I being selfish?
Went to meet her later, told her I'm sorry for any trouble caused, took full responsibility for the lack of discipline in the students and the incidents that occured due to that. Told her I've tried my best and that it probably isn't good enough.
Accepted the criticisms with an open heart and listened. Good thing that I held my tongue. Respect is key.
All the kids were quite unwilling to let me go. One particular naughty girl was almost in tears. Wished them all the best. Gave them all a bug hug. They're forever etched in me.
Later, when I was about to go home, her husband had a talk with me. He was unexpectedly friendly and understanding. Totally grateful to him for making me feel so much better. Said that he could see I was trying my best and that he knew how difficult the primary children can get. Told me that I shouldn't take to heart whatever that's happened. And that I'm always free to visit. Had a friendly chat about results and studies and applying for U. The thing that made my day was when he said he received good comments from parents about me. And from the staff. Children, being who they are, report everything they do there. At the very least I know that I've managed to be the kind of teacher that I want to be. The ones who made a difference.
I know I have faults and I'm willing to admit that.
I could do some things in a better way than what I've done.
I know I have rooms to improve.
I've learnt much from this experience. I've learnt that nothing's quite like what it seems and that you must never judge someone without walking two moons in their shoes. I've learnt that you gotta learn to let things blow over and not be disheartened by whatever hardships that come your way. I understand children more and probably more patient than before.
Most of all, I've learnt that you can't please everyone.
At least my conscience is clear, I know I've done my best and I have no regrets whatsoever. That much I'm certain.
On a lighter note, I'm blissful.
In the words of Franz Ferdinand:
Take me out !
Ironically, at the same time, I hate the thought of giving up easily, and allowing others to sense some kind of failure or helplessness in me. Maybe all I ever intended is to jaga my air muka but I strongly suspect that I just want other people to like me and to praise me, as conceited as that sounds. I felt that I couldn't bear to taint my name.
But I made up my mind.
And the next morning, after getting permission from my father, I told the principal that I wanted out. That I can only work til Tuesday.
I sensed hostility. And I was right. Hostility came right at me, like splintered knives that carved at will. Words are indeed sharper than swords. For a split second I doubted my decision. I imagined myself being ostracized and destroying years of good relationship with them. And I hated the thought that she would think lowly of me.
I imagined that I would meet them somewhere and they'd brush me off.
I imagined that the whole world would somehow get some drift that I was bad and useless and all that.
Somehow, I wasn't as bad a shape as I could be.
She told me I need only work til today.
Hmm.
Am I being selfish?
Went to meet her later, told her I'm sorry for any trouble caused, took full responsibility for the lack of discipline in the students and the incidents that occured due to that. Told her I've tried my best and that it probably isn't good enough.
Accepted the criticisms with an open heart and listened. Good thing that I held my tongue. Respect is key.
All the kids were quite unwilling to let me go. One particular naughty girl was almost in tears. Wished them all the best. Gave them all a bug hug. They're forever etched in me.
Later, when I was about to go home, her husband had a talk with me. He was unexpectedly friendly and understanding. Totally grateful to him for making me feel so much better. Said that he could see I was trying my best and that he knew how difficult the primary children can get. Told me that I shouldn't take to heart whatever that's happened. And that I'm always free to visit. Had a friendly chat about results and studies and applying for U. The thing that made my day was when he said he received good comments from parents about me. And from the staff. Children, being who they are, report everything they do there. At the very least I know that I've managed to be the kind of teacher that I want to be. The ones who made a difference.
I know I have faults and I'm willing to admit that.
I could do some things in a better way than what I've done.
I know I have rooms to improve.
I've learnt much from this experience. I've learnt that nothing's quite like what it seems and that you must never judge someone without walking two moons in their shoes. I've learnt that you gotta learn to let things blow over and not be disheartened by whatever hardships that come your way. I understand children more and probably more patient than before.
Most of all, I've learnt that you can't please everyone.
At least my conscience is clear, I know I've done my best and I have no regrets whatsoever. That much I'm certain.
On a lighter note, I'm blissful.
In the words of Franz Ferdinand:
Take me out !
Saturday, February 11, 2006
Finally..
Been tagged for the first time and I've only just got the time to reply. Paiseh !
The truth is, it's Friday night ( technically Saturday morning) and I ain't wanna sleep. I'm gonna stay awake and savour the moment of knowing I don't have to work tomorrow as long as possible because I know that if I sleep, it'll just be a matter of moments before I wake up and it'll be a brand new day. A day closer to Monday.
Logical? Yes? NO.
Hmm..okay..It's about 5 weird habits that I have? Lets see if I'm able to fit 5..
numero uno : I always find myself saying a quiet prayer for the deceased and his/her family whenever I pass by a funeral. Any funeral. I'd pray that he/she will rest in peace and that the family would be all right. I'll even say a prayer whenever I see a plane flying by. A prayer that they'll arrive at their destinations safely and well. Weirder still, I'll pray for whoever's in a shrieking, speeding ambulance. Man , I pray too much!
numero erm.. dos? (two la!) : Admittedly, I have a smelly pillow. To those who's not in the know, I DO. It's been with me since birth, and now, 20 years later, it's all torn and tattered where the original casing is separated into 2 pieces due to wear. Strands of cloth everywhere and evidence of me trying to stitch the fragile pieces back together. Maybe it's not That weird, but each night I'll place my treasured pillow beside me under the fan, on the bed. I'll wait for it to cool to a temperature that's just nice before snuggling close to it to sleep. I don't know why I bother anyway, before long, it'll be as warm as me. Though some may attest that it's just not possible since I'm cold-blooded. Yeah.
numero tres : You might not know it but I'm One Big Sentimental Baby. I'm a rubbish collector. I have the habit of collecting little things and big things that might be of some sentimental value to me, just for remembrance sake. I still have wrapping papers of presents from friends, pieces of ribbons, strings from packages, pieces of paper, bits of plastics that bear some importance in my life, bottle caps, a sweet wrapper from the last day of school, a shell from Batu Feringghi, drawings, scribbles and loads, loads more. I even have a strand of hair from 1999? or was it 2000? Argh.
numero cuatro : This habit is attributed to my brother. You see, he's so vain that he'll catch a reflection of himself whenever he can. Mirrored escalators, car windows, etc. Now, I find myself doing it too. Albeit, more discretely. Even then, I'm NOT vain. Honest! Blek.
numero cinco : ....... this is harder than I thought!
Ok, this might not be weird but I have none left! Here goes..I try not to step on books, newspapers, papers, bags or anything that has remotely anything to do with knowledge. In the event that I find myself doing it, I'll touch the item that was unfortunately in contact with my smelly feet, with my hand (what else? my feet? *gasp* twice the evil ! ) to my heart 3 times. As a sign of respect I guess? Wonder if anybody else does it..
That's 5 ! I'm good.
Now, who shall I tag?
Hmm..
I tag YOU.
Yes, you.
You poor thing who is reading this now.
Geddit?
tu.
Humour me?
The truth is, it's Friday night ( technically Saturday morning) and I ain't wanna sleep. I'm gonna stay awake and savour the moment of knowing I don't have to work tomorrow as long as possible because I know that if I sleep, it'll just be a matter of moments before I wake up and it'll be a brand new day. A day closer to Monday.
Logical? Yes? NO.
Hmm..okay..It's about 5 weird habits that I have? Lets see if I'm able to fit 5..
numero uno : I always find myself saying a quiet prayer for the deceased and his/her family whenever I pass by a funeral. Any funeral. I'd pray that he/she will rest in peace and that the family would be all right. I'll even say a prayer whenever I see a plane flying by. A prayer that they'll arrive at their destinations safely and well. Weirder still, I'll pray for whoever's in a shrieking, speeding ambulance. Man , I pray too much!
numero erm.. dos? (two la!) : Admittedly, I have a smelly pillow. To those who's not in the know, I DO. It's been with me since birth, and now, 20 years later, it's all torn and tattered where the original casing is separated into 2 pieces due to wear. Strands of cloth everywhere and evidence of me trying to stitch the fragile pieces back together. Maybe it's not That weird, but each night I'll place my treasured pillow beside me under the fan, on the bed. I'll wait for it to cool to a temperature that's just nice before snuggling close to it to sleep. I don't know why I bother anyway, before long, it'll be as warm as me. Though some may attest that it's just not possible since I'm cold-blooded. Yeah.
numero tres : You might not know it but I'm One Big Sentimental Baby. I'm a rubbish collector. I have the habit of collecting little things and big things that might be of some sentimental value to me, just for remembrance sake. I still have wrapping papers of presents from friends, pieces of ribbons, strings from packages, pieces of paper, bits of plastics that bear some importance in my life, bottle caps, a sweet wrapper from the last day of school, a shell from Batu Feringghi, drawings, scribbles and loads, loads more. I even have a strand of hair from 1999? or was it 2000? Argh.
numero cuatro : This habit is attributed to my brother. You see, he's so vain that he'll catch a reflection of himself whenever he can. Mirrored escalators, car windows, etc. Now, I find myself doing it too. Albeit, more discretely. Even then, I'm NOT vain. Honest! Blek.
numero cinco : ....... this is harder than I thought!
Ok, this might not be weird but I have none left! Here goes..I try not to step on books, newspapers, papers, bags or anything that has remotely anything to do with knowledge. In the event that I find myself doing it, I'll touch the item that was unfortunately in contact with my smelly feet, with my hand (what else? my feet? *gasp* twice the evil ! ) to my heart 3 times. As a sign of respect I guess? Wonder if anybody else does it..
That's 5 ! I'm good.
Now, who shall I tag?
Hmm..
I tag YOU.
Yes, you.
You poor thing who is reading this now.
Geddit?
tu.
Humour me?
Friday, February 10, 2006
Of prosperity, 21 and Ngah Ibrahim, anyone?
I've always loved going back to Penang. Part of the excitement lies in the journey there itself, especially when I was younger, where trips to anywhere out of Klang bring such joy and trepidation that Chinese New Year is the holiday I count down to, throughout the year. Travelling on a train that rumbles rhythmically and sways ever so slightly brings such romantic notions that it doesn't matter that it took more than 8 hours to reach there. Hazy memories of watching steaming hot Milo swishing around in my polystyrene cup on the train canteen table and sneaky trips to buy junkfood while my parents slept and vistas of paddy fields are etched in me.
Now that I'm older, things start to get repetitious and one year seems like the last but the charm of family bondage is too strong to resist.
So.
How was this year's then?
A picture speaks a thousand words, so they say, which is just as well!
Warning : Description below may be a tad cliched therefore truly interested or bored people need scroll down. Everyone else, look at pictures la har.
Alritey then.
My family's reunion dinner has always been steamboat. This year, due to us being back only on the eve, My mom and I didn't really help out as much.. :Þ
We had 3 tables for family and guests..
This is for the 'men' aka prim and proper table.
The lion's high on Ecstasy. Ha.
Now that I'm older, things start to get repetitious and one year seems like the last but the charm of family bondage is too strong to resist.
So.
How was this year's then?
A picture speaks a thousand words, so they say, which is just as well!
Warning : Description below may be a tad cliched therefore truly interested or bored people need scroll down. Everyone else, look at pictures la har.
Alritey then.
My family's reunion dinner has always been steamboat. This year, due to us being back only on the eve, My mom and I didn't really help out as much.. :Þ
We had 3 tables for family and guests..
This is for the 'men' aka prim and proper table.
This is known as the ladies or 'couldn't-care-less-chuck-all-the-food-inside-stuff-yourself-silly-coz-no one's looking' table. (Note : hungry mom trying to make the soup boil faster by staring at it )
When tummies are all filled up, let the gambling games begin! Lost this year. Shucks..!
First day is of course filled with the excitement of wearing new clothes.
And finding out what everyone else is wearing.
and of course, angpows.
My aunt would make this absolutely delicious, not to mention sweet dessert thingy each year for us to eat first thing in the morning. It has gingko bilobas, nuts and erm..something la.
Off we'll go to congregrate at another aunt's house before starting the day's journey of visiting. The numbers of houses to visit dwindles over the years as elders passed on and children dispersed. Like seeds.
On the 2nd day, a lion troop would come over to my unc/aunt's house. Dog Dog Chiang!
The lion's high on Ecstasy. Ha.
"Must. reach. the. vegetable. though. I. eat. meat. Must. Not. Fall."
The next few days were spent going round town, eating, visiting and eating (X5). Thus, prosperity kicked in. Managed to visit Khoo Kongsi.
Beautiful exterior and beautiful interior.
We dropped by Taiping for a day trip. My father spent the first few years of his life there. They lived in Kuala Sepetang (formerly Port Weld : History: The first railway track was built there ) where my grandfather was a Stationmaster. He struck up a conversation with a guy at the port.
"Ah so-and-so still here ar?"
"Remember Ah B? His sister came back from Australia!"
"Ah C and family still live over at the shophouses..."
In Hokkien la.
See that man? He's actually washing 'sea ham' ( as in cockles, Not slices of ham found in the ocean, mind you!)
Ironic that my dad came from the Port to another Port; Port Klang, that is.
Went over to Ngah Ibrahim's house too, which was converted into a museum. Remember him? Conspired with Dato' Maharaja Lela for the killing of J.W.W.Birch. Remember? Masih ingat sejarah? Oh, nvm. This is his house. And yes, we were the only visitors there.
Surprisingly, it was quite fun.
Friday was spent traipsing around Penang buying stuff to take back home. Our car was more packed then when we left for Penang. 'Nuff said.
The day to go home to P.Klg came too soon for comfort. Images of work looms ahead but images of friends soften the blows. Thank goodness for visitings on Sat, Sun and makan on Monday to prevent me from bawling my eyes out and sulking over work at home. For that, I'm grateful.
Can someone print the wise words
" I complained of having no shoes til I saw a man with no feet" on my forehead?
On 2nd thought, don't. I won't be able to see it anyways.
How was your new year's?
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