Your Opinion Does Not Matter
Another one of my old favourites from Jay Chou’s album Fantasy.
I love the chorus…
kuai shi yong shuang jie gun, heng heng ha xi
kuai shi yong shuang jie gun, heng heng ha xi
xue wu zhi ren qie ji, ren zhe wu di
shi shui zai lian tai ji, feng sheng shui qikuai shi yong shuang jie gun, heng heng ha xi
kuai shi yong shuang jie gun, heng heng ha xi
ru guo wo you qing gong, fei yan zou bi
wei ren geng zhi bu qu, yi shen zheng qi
A friend and I had this conversation about the Orang Asli earlier on, and I related to him several experiences of mine with the Orang Aslis. For those who have been following this blog would know that my ties with the Orang Asli go back to around 27 years ago. However, this one story he found truly funny.
If you look at the above, this is the typical Orang Asli home. It is usually of the studio concept where parents and their 4 to 6 children would co-exist in a tiny space that would make the population density of Bangladesh (2,200 people per square mile) look spacious. That would be where they sleep and eat.
One day, as I visited several families of Orang Asli from the Temuan tribe in south Pahang, I noticed how the men and women were missing; not the older ones, but those young parents. The teenagers were at the horrendously uneven football field playing football barefooted, and the kids were wallowing in dust together with their dogs, playing games. I went up to one of them and asked, “Ayah mak ada?”
“Niak,” the reply would come from each of the children.
“Ayah mak pergi mana? I asked again.
“Pegik tanam ubi.”
That’s about 20 missing couples in the jungle planting tapioca. It must be a cooperative thing that the government has been encouraging the Orang Aslis to do, and this community has chosen tapioca as its source of income. I thought I should go see this tapioca farm.
“Jom ikut akuk caik kek mana mak ayah tanam ubi, nak?” I asked one of the kids.
“Ngan, mak ayah marah,” came the reply from the oldest of the lot. “Pukul tujuh malen baru balik.”
That night as I sat with the Tok Batin and the village elders, I told him how proud I was to know that the community is active in planting tapioca. The Tok Batin and the rest laughed, looked at each other and said, “Owang hempam tu.”
I couldn’t understand what was said, so I just drank my coffee and dunked some Jacob’s Cream Crackers into the cup.
The next evening I decided to go visit this tapioca farm of theirs without asking for an escort. After ten minutes of walking into the jungle it became evident that there was no clearing for them to plant tapioca in. Then I heard voices. I went into the direction of the voices and soon, about 50 meters away, were a couple planting tapioca. I could only observe from far for a moment and then walked back towards the village.
That night, more laughters came from the Tok Batin and his merry men.
Then I knew what kind of tapioca they were planting every evening; then I knew the meaning of the word Hempam; then I knew how they were able to make babies with their children sleeping around them at night.
It was all done during the “tapioca” planting time.
No, not a single tapioca tree was to be found inside that jungle.
Well, I can’t wait to get back underwater. So before I go back to my favourite realm, I just want to take a trip down memory lane:
Performing safety stop with Nizar and Mior at the Vietnamese Wreck, Perhentian – March 2005
This was my first underwater shot using my (then) newly-purchased Nikon Coolpix 4200, Redang – May 2005
This was Port Dickson at its best – a dive off Blue Lagoon – June 2005
This was taken by Andy Lim at Tukun Laut, Perhentian in July 2005. Still one of the best trips ever.
This was taken during surface interval at Pasir Panjang, Pulau Tulai – September 2005
Exactly a week later, I took my daughters Hana and Iqa to Tioman and they did their first night dive at Pulau Labas – September 2005
2 weeks later I was back in Tioman to photograph this little guy – October 2005
2 weeks after that, I was back in Tioman, seen here prepping the YBOD (Yellow Box Of Death) for a dive – October 2005
A month later, Syed and I were doing work underwater during a dive trip to Pulau Jarak on the Kaleebso – November 2005
Two months later, I was diving Koh Lipe in Thailand – January 2006
A month later, I went back to Tioman during the monsoon. And the usual 1 hour boat ride became 3.5 hours instead – February 2006
2 weeks later I was back in Perhentian and shot this little guy near the Vietnamese Wreck – March 2006
2 weeks later I went back to Perhentian – April 2006
2 weeks after Perhentian, I was deploying artificial reefs in Tioman – April 2006
A week later, we (including Gee) were back in Tioman to complete the deployment – May 2006
And a week after Tioman, I was back in Perhentian and took this pic at the Sugar Wreck – May 2006
Three weeks later, Nizar, Gee and I dived at the Aquaria. This is Gee feeling cold – May 2006
5 days later I was back underwater in Tioman – May 2006
Two weeks later I was back in Tioman for a technical diving dive trip – June 2006
Two weeks later I was on the Wavebreaker and took this pic of the Nembrotha kubaryana feeding on a sea squirt at Labas – July 2006
The next month I was in Perhentian experiencing the best visibility ever – August 2006
A month later I was back on the Wavebreaker headed for Pulau Aur – September 2006
12 days later I was in Perhentian before the season ended – September 2006
Two months later, we forced a dive center in Tioman to open up for us because we wanted to do some monsoon diving – and it was stormy but still good – November 2006
Two weeks later, in the middle of the monsoon, I was at Pulau Bidong doing video shots of the underwater gallery – November 2006
Two months later we were missing the sea water again, so a group of us went to dive Port Dickson again – January 2007
A month later, we went on Kaleebso’s penultimate trip to Pulau Jarak – February 2007
A month later, monsoon was still in full force but the four of us returned to Perhentian. There was a lot of rubbish underwater and I got this nice photo of a floating underwear – March 2007
Two weeks later, Gee and I went to Perhentian for 5 days and were joined by Nafi and Ina and the rest of the gang towards the end of the trip – March 2007
A month and a half later I was back in Perhentian – May 2007
3 weeks later, I went back to Tioman to do several technical dives – May 2007
2 weeks later, Gee and I were in Bidong exploring wrecks – June 2007
I went for a dive trip with Deepblu in July but do not have any photos taken except for this one of my 200th dive (which really was my 483rd)
A month later, I went back to Perhentian with Trisha, Kurt and Bakawali. Bakawali took this pic of me and the Malaysian flag at the Sugar Wreck – August 2007
Early September 2007 I went to Perhentian with someone.
Followed by another trip with another someone a week later – September 2007
A week after that, I was in Redang with the guys – September 2007\
On the second day of Hari Raya Puasa, I was back in Perhentian – October 2007
A month later I was in Sipadan. I went very happily, but came back a sad person – November 2007
And this was the first seahorse I saw on the trip to Pulau Sembilan on board the Kaleebso. A very sad trip indeed, a closure for everything and for the year – December 2007
I watched the HBO miniseries again last night on DVD. Somehow, I have always admired the men of Easy Company even when I read the book written by the late Stephen Edward Ambrose. To see the real men behind the characters of that miniseries, and what they had to say about their wartime experiences, have never failed to bring tears to my eyes. Mind you, one of them, Carwood Lipton, who was Easy Company’s First Sergeant promoted to Second Lieutenant after the skirmish at Foy, at Haguenau, where Easy Company saw its last action in WW2, had died in 2001.
Here’s the video of that part:
It’s the chinese new year and I whistled this song to myself at around 2pm just now. It’s a favourite from Jay Chou’s album called “Fantasy” so here is the music video.
fan huang de chuan lian huan can liu zai qiang shang
yi xi ke jian ji ge zi “suai suai ping an”
zai wo mei hui qu guo de lao jia mi gang
ye ye yong kai shu xie yi ge manhuang jin ge pa man le diao hua de men shuang
xi yang xie xie ying zai ban bo de zhuan qiang
pu zhe ju mu ban de wu nei hai mi man
lao lao dang nian nian de dou ban jiangwo dui zhe hei bai zhao pian kai shi xiang xiang
ba he ma dang nian de mo yang
shuo zhe yi kou wu nong ruan yu de gu niang huan huan zou guo wai tanxiao shi de jiu shi guang yi jiu si san
zai hui yi de lu shang shi jian bian hao man
lao jie fang xiao nong tang
shi shu yu na nian dai bai qiang hei wa de dan dan de you shangxiao shi de jiu shi guang yi jiu si san
hui tou kan de pian duan you yi xie feng shuang
lao chang pan jiu pi xiang
zhuang man le ming xin pian de tie he li cang zhe yi pian mei gui hua ban
Let’s welcome the Year of the Rat.
Don’t ask me what rats do or how they are supposed to be good for all of us. The first things that come across my mind when I think about rats are phrases like” “You look like a drowned rat”; “That guy is a rat”; “I don’t give a rat’s arse about that”, so on and so forth. So how can the year of the rat be any good?
How did this topic come about?
Well, it was after paying phone bills at the machine, and I was walking back to my car when I saw a rat trying to eat something on the drain cover. It looked at me while quickly munching just to see which direction I would take. Finally it dawned upon it that I was heading its way when it grabbed another grub and scooted away. Such a greedy critter.
Then I read the chinese zodiac signs. Being a Fire Horse, I am most incompatible with either Rat or Snake – unfortunately, I have had one of either signs in my life before. I don’t have to describe their characteristics to you, but just looking at the type of animals they are is enough for me to know why they are so unsuitable for me. Then again, you will to take these predictions with a pinch of salt, because a Fire Horse is most compatible with the Fire Sheep – and Honey is a Fire Sheep; and so is my first ex-wife. So how do you explain that?
Whatever it is, my outlook for this year – things are going to get more expensive as oil prices have reached peak high, and the government can no longer afford to give hugh fuel subsidies. So, dive rates are going to get higher, as evident in an announcement made earlier by a dive shop here in KL on pool dives and pool usage rates.
Maybe it’s time to invest in my own boat and compressor, and a diesel or NGV-powered 4WD so I can tow the boat anywhere to go diving.
Otherwise, I’ll have to take up new hobbies like killing rats and snakes.
It’s what the kids would say in Mandarin when they want the ang pao (or hong bao in Mandarin). It simply means “Congratulations and Prosperity! Now give me a red envelope!” It’s what the kids always go for. Oh, unmarried adults get it too. So do parents, from their married children. Maybe I should pay Cincin, as well as Countloon and Cindy a visit on Thursday to collect the hong bao.
For those wanting to give hong bao but do not know certain taboos – just make sure you do not put any amount that has the number 4 in it. 4 is a homnym for ‘death’ – so any amount that has the number 4 in it is a no-no. Just don’t ask from me.
Honey will be going back to her parents’ place tomorrow afternoon. Buddhist Babe, I’m not sure. Mocha should be going back to Tanjung Malim (correct me if I am wrong). Icecool and Metalized? Not sure.
For those working at Uptown or frequent the Uptown Foodcourt, please be advised that Ah Keong will not be operating his Chee Cheong Fun stall from today until the 12th February. He will re-open for business on the 13th (Wednesday).
So for those driving back to their respective hometown, have a safe journey to and fro. Don’t drink and drive as you might spill precious alcohol onto your nice shirt. Drink before you drive is okay, or after you drive. I’ll be going for some drinks on my own on the eve of the New Year.
For all my chinese friends, here’s wishing you and family Xin Nian Kuai Le – Gong Xi Fa Cai.
As for me, ending an annus horribilis, I’ll just say out loud: Sui Sui Ping An and hope for things to get a lot better this new year. Maybe I should print the image below and hang it outside my door too.
Some people hate me for the fact that I am almost always right – especially when it comes to understanding the human heart.
“A final comfort that is small, but not cold: The heart is the only broken instrument that works” said T.E Kalem. And mine has been broken over and over again to the point that smithereens would seem to huge a piece for each piece of my heart. But it still works. At one point, I was seen to be wallowing in pain, then suddenly people would SMS or e-mail me saying I have moved on and changed to a point that most do not recognise the old me anymore. The question is: Have I actually moved on? Do I not feel any pain?
So let me give you an insight into several categories a man’s heart.
Macho Man
Most men have this facade on them. No matter what, they will maintain an even strain; act cool; no soppy-soppy business. While some suffer inside, most would seem to be able to move on even faster than a Formula One race’s average pitstop times. To them, emotional displays are hogwash and unmanly. They get the chicks faster than a hen can hatch one, denying the fact that these chicks are just rebounds: which explains why they keep changing partners.
Sensitive Man
The sensitive man feels for his partner; other people; and himself. He adapts easily into the likes of the partner, and is always sensitive to her needs. He can be clingy and pressing at times, but she would almost always yearn for his love if he is being lost. To overcome sadness, the sensitive man will try to move on, and may seem to have moved on, putting up a happy facade to hide his pain. He is most vulnerable when he is alone. No matter how long, and how many partners he may have had along the way, he will continue to think about his greatest love that was lost.
Leopard Man
A leopard doesn’t change its spots – much like tigers don’t change their stripes.
Leopards and Tigers – male ones, never care much for their partners. To them, the task of bringing up the children lies in the spouse, as are house chores, making sure his work clothes are ready, his food on the table waiting for him, washing up after meals. He expects his spouse, partner, mate, to understand that he is the dominant figure, and that she should be sufficiently contented with the fact that she is his spouse, partner, mate that he has provided a roof over her head, food to eat, so on and so forth.
When threatened with the loss of his loved ones, he tries to change his stripes or spots, and adapts the culture and emulates the values of one person his spouse, partner, mate has always dreamt of having as her life partner. Like male cats, these are just stances they adapt to make sure the mating partner will always succumb to his needs and desires: be the nice person she has always wanted to see. Once the mate is securely within his grasp, he goes back to his old ways, finding other mates to mate with: as male cats do. This man will show no or very little remorse or regret for the things he’s done that could have cost him his marriage, relationship or whatever have you – typical Alpha-Male behaviour.
Old Dog Man
They are nothing but dogs – old dogs. And as the saying goes, “You can’t teach old dogs new tricks, the saying applies to them aptly.
In a relationship, he would show jealousy, as male dogs would; but as male dogs are, he will show no commitment. he does not venture beyond his learning curve after a while and expects his mate to accept him as he is, and understand him for what he is. He will not reciprocate until and unless he is being threatened with the loss of his spouse, partner, mate; much like the Tiger/Leopard up there. But unlike the leopard/tiger up there, he is most afraid to show commitment, and most afraid of losing the love of his master (parents, first wife etc) than to lose the love of his spouse, partner, mate.
When threatened with the loss, much like a dog that has overstayed its welcome, he will attempt to show that he has changed and is willing to learn new things just so it won’t be chased out of its owner’s house. He will do anything extraordinary to him to win her heart. But as the tiger/leopard up there, he will soon wear out and will become himself back: back to wanting the partner to understand him and not reciprocating. Then he takes this stance of a chauvinist male and expects the partner to understand if he has to lose her, telling her she is strong and not to worry about life – as if he had no role to play in her being broken hearted.
So there you go, the four kinds of hearts men have. There are no middle of the road categories. So pick your choice. – and do so carefully.
“Vakratunda mahakaya
suryakoti samaphraba
nirvighnam kurmedeva
sarvakaryeshu sarvada”
I was chanting the Ganesha vedic shloka (I call it the Om Vakratund) that Hindus would chant in the morning before they start their daily chores. They’d pray to Lord Ganesha for his blessings for the day.
Maybe I should have done the equivalent of that as I was spending my hour and a half in the jam trying to get home after sending my daughter, Iqa, for her netball match. Everywhere the roads are jammed, then I remembered: it’s Federal Territory Day and roads are closed everywhere.
Kuala Lumpur became the first Federal Territory back in 1974 (since then, two other places have come under the Federal Territory – Labuan and Putrajaya). Prior to 1st February 1974, we would have to sing three songs during the morning assembly: NegaraKu, Duli Yang Maha Mulia (the Selangor state anthem), and the school song. Anyone born in KL before that day, would have the state code ’10’ (for Selangor) as part of his/her national registration identification card (NRIC) number.
A year before that, a packet of nasi lemak at the school canteen would cost only 5 sen; and with 10 sen in your pocket, you’d be feasting like a King. Of course there were boys in my school who would be buying a bottle of Coca Cola (beyond my affordability then) and entered the Coca Cola Yoyo Competition, while I would buy junk snacks just to get my Bruce Lee stencil collection (if not the Ultraman ones). Then came the oil crunch with the formation of the OPEC; and since I never got pocket money from my parents and had to rely on my daily butter with sugar sandwich and syrup in a tupperware (that is almost always empty by the time I get to recess time because most of it would have spilt inside my school bag), and had also to rely on my collection of Singaporean coins because they looked good with the little dragons on them, I was royally screwed: even the kacang putih seller stopped recognising Singaporean money. So I blame my current condition to my maid’s generosity in sprinkling tons of sugar onto the butter spread on my sandwiches (scapegoats are always good – especially when they are already dead).
1974 was a good year somewhat. My favourite times would be the weekends when I would spend time at my friend’s place at Taman Ibukota in Gombak. I’d wear a cardigan when it was morning school session (those days you’re on a 6-monthly dual-shifts: afternoon, then morning). KL would get misty on cold mornings. Then came June 1974 when everything changed. My father’s predecessor, Tan Sri Abdul Rahman Hashim, was gunned down by a communist assassination squad between the Lee Yan Lian building and Bukit Mahkamah (where Menara Maybank is), and my father was promoted as the nation’s top police post on June 8th, 31 days before my 8th birthday: and life turned to hell.
But life back in 1974 was simple. KL was just a simple city: Campbell building was the tallest then, save for the Parliament building. Pertama Complex, Bangunan Ming (on Jalan Bukit Nanas), Menara Zainal Abidin (former BBMB – where Bank Muamalat is now) were still under construction. And we friends, malays, chinese, indians alike would put “school first” than “race” whenever there is a quarrel between inter-school sports rivals. Race and religion were in our pockets somewhere, never to be seen.
How KL has progressed in terms of development, and regressed in terms of race relations, and changed in its character 34 years later.
My thoughts on 1974’s KL was interrupted when a car honked as the light had turned green. My car lurched forward and several minutes later, I arrived home. I gave a sigh of relief, went inside the house, greeted by my daughter Nisaa, asked her a few questions, then came into this room to log on to the Internet.
As I began to type this posting, a text message came in and it read:
“Ayah…kitorang dah habis main netball. Dah boleh ambik sekarang.”
Oh, crap!
“Vakratunda mahakaya suryakoti samaphraba…
It’s the Malaysian Maritime Enforcement Agency. I hope to either get a post at the HQ, or in Tawau or Sandakan where piracy and smuggling activities are still rampant. Go where the action is. After all, I have 13 good years left, and I can only live this life once. I can make good of all the training I have received during my Air Force days.
It would be a good thing for me to be away, too.
Maybe I would grow to like the place, and follow the footsteps of some of my predecessors in the military who have settled down there and never to come back.
All I’ll be needing would be my dive equipments.
Now, let’s wait for the reply.
SeaDemon Says 
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