As 2010 Approaches – Part Two (First Half of 2009)

Writing my last post for 2008 on 31 December 2008
Writing my last post for 2008 on 31 December 2008

How has 2009 fared for me? It has been a good year for me, I would say. Wifey and I got married in March, then she became a diver in August. The same month I went through what was probably the most difficult short course I have ever attended – NEBOSH IGC, and passed despite the attrition rate being 80%. We got our new house in July but finally moved into it late November, and come New Year’s Eve (tomorrow night), we’ll be doing a ‘housewarming.’ Not a full one, but for the sake of ushering in the new year.

JANUARY

January 2009 came in with a bang

January 2009 came in with a bang. The first week, we went down to JB to hand over the house in Nong Chik to the house agent. Wifey, Dalie and Rina took the opportunity to visit their alma mater.

The setans at the Setan Training Faculty
The setans at the Setan Training Facility

FEBRUARY

We also made a trip to Tioman at the end of the monsoon season. The sea was still rough and cold, so was the air, but there was a lot to see underwater.

Wifey and Dalie enjoying Tioman
Wifey and Dalie enjoying Tioman

Poo came down from Thailand for a short while and had dinner with us.

Poo came down from Thailand
Poo came down from Thailand

And the girls had their Setan dinner at Impiana.

The setans
The setans

MARCH

In March, we went on an LOB trip aboard the Wavebreaker. It was just two weeks short of our wedding.

Surfacing off Soyak Island
Surfacing off Soyak Island

On the 12th March, we celebrated our first year of going out together. A year and a half since we got to know each other. She didn’t make any burgers this time around, but we went for some cheapo burger at Kampung Baru.

Cheap Indian Buffalo Meat Burger
Burger Night – 2009 version

Zaza and Kazu came back to Malaysia for our wedding, and also for the trip to Perhentian.

Zaza and Kazu at Nasi Lemak Tanglin
“I want to show people in Okayama how to eat nasi lemak

We also went to watch live band at Bar Savanh.

The savants at Bar Savanh
The savants at Bar Savanh

We also went to Chakri Palace for dinner while shopping for wedding stuff.

Mieng Kham - Zaza and Kazu went nuts over this
Mieng Kham – Zaza and Kazu went nuts over this

A day before the wedding, we went to KL Tower for lunch.

Kazu's POV
Kazu’s POV

And Wifey and I got married at the al-Muadzin Mosque in Setiawangsa on Saturday, 21st March 2009.

Signing my life away as Eyda commented on this pic
Signing my life away as Eyda commented on this pic

Sign here, here and here, and your loan will be approved within the hour
Sign here, here and here, and your loan will be approved within the hour

Clinching the deal
Clinching the deal

Hubby and Wifey
Hubby and Wifey

One big family
One big family

My kids and I - they've been through the good and bad times with me
My kids and I – they’ve been through all the good and bad times with me

Our extended family
Our extended family – the people who helped make it happen

Post-wedding party at Las Carretas Ampang
Post-wedding party at Las Carretas

The very next morning, Kazu, Zaza, Wifey and I left for Perhentian:

At the Kuala Besut jetty
At the Kuala Besut jetty

Going for dinner at Abdul's
Going for dinner at Abdul’s

Going for dinner at Abdul's
Going for dinner at Abdul’s

The next morning, we spent some time on the beach. Then Zaza and Kazu left Perhentian as the latter had a flight back to Japan to catch. That was also the day Wifey breathed underwater for the first time.

Kazu calling home to tell there's no flight to Japan
Kazu calling home to tell there’s no flight to Japan

Happy people
Happy people

Saying goodbye to Zaza and Kazu
Saying goodbye to Zaza and Kazu

Off they went
Off they went

Wifey's introduction to scuba diving
Wifey’s introduction to scuba diving

APRIL

I took my first train ride in 10 years, going down to JB to be with Wifey.

Walking towards the train
Walking towards the train

All comfy on my First-Class seat
All comfy on my First-Class seat

My ticket
My ticket

Gemas station
Gemas station

Kluang Station...no, not the Kopitiam
Kluang Station…no, not the Kopitiam

And of course, the occasional outing with the kids:

With Wifey and the kids
With Wifey and the kids

Then, Wifey, Dalie, Rina, Gemgem, Ida and Ita went off to Bandung to shop, while Spena, Kimi, Nanster, Renek and I went to Sipadan.

Enroute to Tawau
Enroute to Tawau

Kimi on the surface
Kimi On The Surface

Frogfish
Frogfish

Horny Couple
Horny Couple

Pygmy Seahorse
Pygmy Seahorse

Flamboyant Cuttlefish
Flamboyant Cuttlefish

Mandarin Fish
Mandarin Fish

On the third day, we dived at Seaventures again in the morning, then the Eel Garden in the afternoon. I was down with high fever that night.

My favourite morning activity
My favourite morning activity

Blue-Ring Octopus
Blue-Ring Octopus – highly venomous

Turtle basking underwater at Paradise
Turtle basking underwater at Paradise

One hot afternoon at Billabong
One hot afternoon at Billabong

Off the Sipadan Wall
Off the Sipadan Wall

MAY

On May Day, Wifey and I checked into the Concorde and spent a night there, before taking a trip to Kuala Kangsar. En route, we stopped at Ipoh for some nasi ganja a.k.a nasi vanggey:

Nasi Kandar Ayam Merak a.k.a Nasi Ganja/Vanggey - 63 years and going strong
Nasi Kandar Ayam Merak a.k.a Nasi Ganja/Vanggey – 63 years and going strong

The following week, I witnessed the sailaway of the GOPB platform’s topside from our sister company’s yard in Lumut.

GOPB topside in the background
GOPB topside in the background

My colleague and I went for the OPITO-approved BOSIET (with additional OLF modules and transfer safely by boat).

Wearing a coverall for fire-fighting training
Wearing a coverall for fire-fighting training

All set for FiFi
All set for FiFi

Inside the METS for HUET
Inside the METS for HUET

JUNE

And in June, Wifey, Shah, Ali and I went to Tioman for the weekend. It was a good trip and spent a lot of time taking underwater pics. This would be Wifey’s last trip as a snorkeler.

Up close and personal
Up close and personal

Jay the dive guide climbing onto the dive boat
Jay the dive guide climbing onto the dive boat

Before leaving Tioman
Before leaving Tioman

Later that month, the company was involved in the Oil & Gas Asia 2009 exhibition.

The Duke of Pornwall, Peter and I at the booth
The Duke of Pornwall, Peter and I at the booth

Attending a meeting at the Mandarin Oriental
Attending a meeting at the Mandarin Oriental

Towards the end of June, I went on my last dive trip alone, with two guys whom I’ve not dived with for a long time: Zarir and Loy. It was another good trip with lots of nudibranch.

Chromodoris magnifica at Teluk Kador
Chromodoris magnifica at Teluk Kador

Me at Labas Island
Me at Labas Island

And lastly, I went to Miri to have a look at the company’s latest baby: the MV KPV Kapas.

KPV Kapas under construction
KPV Kapas under construction

To be continued:-

Happy 35th Birthday, Sayang

27th December 1974
The world is blessed with one child more
The podgy little girl, so cute, yet fierce
Calls her uncle names with a voice that pierces

At the age of 13 she gained another family
The usual gang at Satan Training Facility
Each became her sister and also a brother
Through thick and thin they’re always together

She was missing for a big part of my life
She’s now my beautiful and wonderful wife
I am so blessed to be loved by her
I want her with me forever

So here I am writing this rap
While she tells me to stop playing with my phone and all that crap
I love you, Wifey, hope you love this rhyme
Happy birthday to my favourite waste of time

Takong

Previously, this floor had been a happy and clean floor. I had a good time dumping crap, as many as 3 times a day here. There was only one other company housed across the floor.

Then, sometime mid this year, another company moved to this floor, located, too, across the floor. That was when the toilet started getting dirty, and I had to scold some Kampung Punya Anak Haram at one point.

After Aidil Fitri, another two companies moved in across the floor, and I try not to go dump crap there anymore if I have to….like unless it would be detrimental to my image (and pants). I cannot believe the toilet manners and etiquette of the employees of these companies – several times I caught them not flushing after urinating (let alone wash hands after); there would be tissue paper strewn all over the toilet floor. Some would be at the base of the rubbish bin (not inside, for some weird reason). There would be fresh pee spattered on the floor beneath the urinal bowls. These people must have snail for dick or something.

Just today, one yuppie came into the toilet, stood at the urinal next to where I was, unzipped his fly, and all I saw was urine shooting out from don’t know what (cos I doubt he has a dick), and it hit the rim of the bowl, splashed on the floor. Then he zipped up his pants, and walked to the wash basins. No, he didn’t flush. Neither did he wash his hands. He proceeded to press the zits on his face.

After flushing, I walked over to the wash basin to wash my hands. There was zit juice and blood on the wall mirror where he stood, and also inside the wash basin. Then he combed his hair and proceeded to the door. I was pissed. I scolded him:

“Mak bapak engkau tak ajar ke lepas kencing flush?”

He just stared at me and said nothing. As he was halfway out, I screamed at him:

“Lain kali jilat la nanah jerawat engkau tu!”

I went after him and shouted:

“Bodoh! Dasar mak bapak main dengan babi!”

He ran away.

I can’t wait to move to my new office now.

The Distinction Problem

I was queuing up to buy some drinks at the food court downstairs when I overheard a discussion going on between some students of a nearby college on Islam and the Arabic language. There was this Arab student who was telling the other students (non-Muslims) about the religion of Islam, and how it is superior to other religions, and how the Arabs, are the preferred ones as compared to Muslims of other races. To this, I turned towards him and retorted:

“You Arabs are scum of the earth. Muhammad was chosen amongst you NOT because your race is superior; it is because you guys were so fucked up then, and even so now. You have no manners; no regards for your surroundings; no regards for the traffic regulations of other countries; your kids throw things around in supermarkets; and you think this whole world is yours! Muhammad was sent to teach you bastards a lesson! And the Quran is in your language because that is the only language you can understand.”

He just kept quiet, red-faced. Everyone just ceased to talk, and looked at me.

This whole world is in a fucked-up state because the Muslims, Jews and Christians alike think that one is superior to the other. That the world domination of one’s religion is the supreme and divine cause, and that Paradise is promised to all those who succeed in subjugating the rest.

Well, let me put a damper to your thoughts, you religious-racists! God only asked you to be good, and that you follow the good ways. No one mortal has the right to say that the other is wrong or otherwise because that is God’s prerogative. Unless, you’re the Pharoah and you think that you are the God of all Gods. I can’t say if one has sinned, or whether his or her deeds would be accepted by God or not. That is for God to say, and not certainly not me.

And we are all the same: Muslims, Jews, Christians. We were so fucked-up that God had to send His Messiah to deliver us. Then, the Jews whacked the Christians for having Jesus, and not subscribing to David’s way. Then, the Jews and Christians whacked the Muslims for following a Prophet who’s not a Jew. Then idiots from the Muslim quarter thinks that world domination and submission is THE only way to go. While I’m at it, let me just whack my own kind, because the so-called religious zealots, while claiming to defend Islam, don’t even understand the Quran.

God stated in the Quran:

The Messenger (Muhammad PBUH) believes in what has been sent down to him from his Lord, and (so do) the believers. Each one believes in Allah, His Angels, His Books, and His Messengers. They say, “We make no distinction between one another of His Messengers” – and they say, “We hear, and we obey. (We seek) Your Forgiveness, our Lord, and to You is the return (of all). (2:285)

Say (O Muslims), “We believe in Allah and that which has been sent down to us and that which has been sent down to Ibrahim (Abraham), Isma’il (Ishmael), Ishaque (Isaac), Ya’qub (Jacob), and to Al-Asbat [the twelve sons of Ya’qub (Jacob)], and that which has been given to Musa (Moses) and ‘Iesa (Jesus), and that which has been given to the Prophets from their Lord. We make no distinction between any of them, and to Him we have submitted.” (2:136)

And those who believe in Allah and His Messengers and make no distinction between any of them (Messengers), We shall give them their rewards, and Allah is Ever OftForgiving, Most Merciful. (4:152)

Say (O Muhammad PBUH): “We believe in Allah and in what has been sent down to us, and what was sent down to Ibrahim (Abraham), Isma’il (Ishmael), Ishaque (Isaac), Ya’qub (Jacob) and Al-Asbat [the twelve sons of Ya’qub (Jacob)] and what was given to Musa (Moses), ‘Iesa (Jesus) and the Prophets from their Lord. We make no distinction between one another among them and to Him (Allah) we have submitted.” (3:84)

So, there have you. So if the three of you are bent on proving that this whole planet can be better if they subscribe to your ways, then get off the fucking planet. We all worship the same God. So, whichever way that you pray to Him, is your fucking business.

The Thing That Still Bugs Me At 43

Just the other day I went out with Wifey and the kids, and I looked at them eating. I did the same when my stepchildren ate. I just looked at them. I am always reminded of my childhood.

I learnt table-manners the hard way. That included the use of hand while eating; the use of fork and spoon and fork and knife while eating – all the hard way.

I think I was eight or nine years old. I would assume children of that age would have problems eating at their own house. It’s not fun to eat unless it’s something that cannot be cooked at home ie. hot dogs, burgers etc. And it is always more fun eating when there are people of your age: friends, cousins etc., that even if the food’s not that good, you tend to eat more than you would at home.

So, there I was, at the house of a family friend, eating plate after plate of rice with their children, and my elder sister. It felt so good eating with people around your age, and my friend’s mother would pile scoops of rice onto my plate.

A week or two later, back at our Section 16 PJ home, I was having dinner, and ate very slowly. After a while, I turned to my mother and told her that I didn’t want to eat anymore. My father was furious. He got up, scooped some rice into his hand, and literally shoved the rice into my mouth. When I did not chew as fast as I could, he would either twist and pull my ear, or slap me. I ate as much and as fast as I could even though I could taste blood. But I guess that tasted better than the ear-ringing slaps that were offered as the alternative.

Another reason to get slapped is when you go for a dish with your rice-covered hand – in this case, it was a fried fish. The fish was good, and I went for it. As soon as my hand touched the fish, a slap landed on my face.

And I dreaded those trips to Fraser’s Hills. Those were when I learnt the hard way how to use the fork, spoon and knife. My dinner would end more than an hour later until I got the correct way of getting all those peas and corns onto my fork using the knife or spoon, depending on whether it was local or western food being served. Come to think of it, maybe that is why I have tinnitus. Just by having dinner.

Sometimes, you get punished for not even being there. There was once when my younger brother had his fingers trapped by my father’s car door. I was inside my room, upstairs, when that happened. Then I heard my father yelling my name out. I quickly rushed downstairs and when I got to him, a hard slap greeted me – the kind where your vision blacks out momentarily and your ears ring like mad, but by the time you regain your senses, you’re being dragged by your ear to his favourite place for you – where all his canes were stored, and he would whack me with only two – either the Officers’ Cane that would leave the back of your thighs promoting the Royal Malaysian Police force, or the Kayu Tas cane from Sarawak that was covered in beautiful beads.

I was so terrified of my father. And it was not just me. Even my mother’s friends would scamper into the kitchen whenever they hear the sound of my father’s car. But why me is the question that keeps bugging me, even until now. Is it because I was born exactly 40 days after my elder sister died? I don’t know. I don’t ever want to know, and I will never ask.

It is because of the past that I still have problems talking to my father (not that I have for the past 2 years and 5 months anyway). But it is also because of the past, that I would give my kids big hugs whenever I see them.

Although I have this rampart built around me because of my past, my kids are inside with me.

Teletiquette

I went to the neighbourhood Giant but made a stop at the Automated Teller Machine (ATM). In front of me was this fat slob – and when I say FAT, it means that I’d look slim no matter where I would stand in relation to Shamu, who, in this case, is a younger woman. I couldn’t see the machine except for the part that’s taller than her.

Shamu was wearing a black rubbish sack which is an excuse for a leather (read: PVC) jacket, and a black leotard that was screaming for mercy. And there she stood in front of the ATM fiddling with her leotard, stretching the front to open, and out from the leotard (or I think it was her panty) came the ATM card. She inserted the card, then pulled up her leotard. Punched in the PIN, then waited. Then she stretched open her leotard again. Out came a Touch ‘N Go card. Out come the ATM card, which she put back into her panty. After she had reloaded the Touch ‘N Go, she retrieved the receipt. Much to my relief.

Just when I thought she was done, in goes the Touch ‘N Go card, and out comes the ATM card again! Once again she inserted the card, fiddled with her leotard, and punched in the PIN number. A few more buttons, then out came the money. She waited for the receipt again, then took the receipt.

But, was I in for another surprise!

She started counting the notes in front of the machine. Someone behind me asked her to move away from the machine. All she did in response to that was to turn and give us an ugly stare, much like a rabid pitbull would, then stuffed the money into her panty again.

“Oh, my turn finally,” I sighed silently.

Sorry, the whole process commenced agan. She inserted the ATM card again, fiddled with her leotard, punched in the numbers, out came the money, retrieved the receipt.

Then, Shamu did the unthinkable, though not entirely unexpected.

SHE FUCKING HAD TO COUNT THE MONEY IN FRONT OF THE MACHINE AGAIN!

Just as I was about to be rude to her, a young boy shouted from behind,

“Oi babi! Kira la kat tepi! (Count the money at the side, pig!)”

She turned and glared at the young boy, and trotted off in anger. Then got into her Perodua Kancil that tilted to one side the moment she got inside.

Poor car. Stupid pig!