Category: Daily Whatevers

What a day it’s been. My son, Alim, who goes to the same school as Fazira, went missing after school. He finished half an hourbefore Fazira did and, probably felt sleepy, walked back to the lesser ventured part of school and slept there. It took us more than half an hour to locate him.

I now have to drive Iqa to and from school and that’s screwing up my daily schedules.

Gotta do something about it.

It’s 7.40am and I am at my daughter Fazira’s new school, which happens to be her former school. She studied here 2003-2004, then went to her former school for two years (2005-2006). She had met some of her former classmates but she seemed a bit lost; it’s a bit like being in fast forward, suddenly your friends have all grown up too, doing their own things. Alim will be schooling here too, as soon as the wife can sort out some admission cock-ups she herself did by not consulting me beforehand. My two elder daughters, Hana and Iqa will attend the same school. Farhan will attend kindergarten near the house.

After this will be forking-out-money time. I’ll be a poorer man than I am now in about an hour’s time.

…has nothing to do with the fear of xylophones. My parents are back from London after three weeks, and my father related how he, even though he holds a Diplomatic passport, still gets held for questioning before being allowed to enter the UK and the US. And this is one man whom Her Majesty Elizabeth Regina II personally invites to the trooping of the colours annually.

If you ask me, it has all to do with being xenophobic; and worse still, it is something that the British themselves did both at the turn of the last century, and the years that followed the end of the Second World War. Look at how screwed up the Indian sub-continent is now; the Middle East, to name a few. Pakistan and India stll bicker about who has control over Kashmir. The funny part was, Kashmir was majority Muslim and still is. yet, the local ruler of Kashmir in 1947 was a Hindu, he opted for Kashmir to join India for the partition of that sub-continent.

The British, too, was responsible for the outcome of the Middle East now. They financed the various tribal leaders of the region to undermine and usurp the authority of the Ottoman Caliphate. Having played a role in the disintegration of the Ottoman Empire, they carved the Middle East into pieces and gave the tribal leaders power to rule. And to control the growing resentment against the Jews, they helped bring about the Wahhabi sect, which was supposed to introduce a more moderate version of Islam, doing away with the bidaah parts. Somehow, the Wahhabis brought about an ideology based on strict YES and NO. and of course, with it, came the doing of their American counterparts: Osama bin Laden, the culprit who is responsible for all the bad publicity the real Islam is getting. Yes, Wahhabi is a MI6’s baby.

Anyway, when I step foot for the second time in England back in 1983 (the first was 3 years earlier) to further my studies, I had to face xenophobic people. I’ll not use the term racist here: that I reserve for people like me who like to watch races, Formula One especially. I was the only non-white in a Grammar school for my A-levels. The only person, on the first day who would speak to me was my classmate, Jonathan Goosey, who is now a policeman in Southampton. So I figured I had to earn their respect. I started to flash 50-pound notes during lunchtime, just to show them that I had more money per week than their parents could bring back home in a week. I only received the attention of the girls. Even seniors. Then one day, it snowed heavily, and kids from the school next door (who were calling me names like Paki, Nigger etc from day one) threw rocks contained in snowballs at me. When one hit me on the forehead, I went for their gang-leader and whacked him for all I care. I did not even bother about the other seven who were pummeling and kicking me from behind. Once their leader was bloodied, they all left. From that day on, I was the leader of my own gang.

Even my Economics teacher used to make fun of me, just because I did sound like I speak the Queen’s English. But when she asked me where did I learn English, I replied, “On the plane on my way here.” I loved going to the library because I could show them history books to show how civilised the people of the east were when the people of the British Isles were still running around in loinclothes hitting women over the head with clubs just to be able to get laid.

With the exception of Steve, who hails from the western part of England where they have a horse for a duchess, most mat sallehs are kampung folks, like those from Hulu Grik, or Jerangsang, Tanjung Besar etc. But when they come here, some stupid girls would worship them like their Viking Gods etc., and as if these people are from the master race. Let me tell you one thing. If I hadn’t taken my neighbours to Heathrow, the only planes they would have seen were the ones passing above them at 30,000 feet. I used to throw cookies on the kerb to watch the kids fight for them. Some would knock on my house door just to sample my mee goreng.

There are good people, there are bad people. hey exist in all communities and races. The good ones are those who understand or make an effort to understand other cultures. The bad ones go around subjugating others and act as if they are of the master race. You see this happening in Malaysia too.

So for all you girls who think that mat sallehs other than Steve (since Steve is more malay than most malays) are so great, go to FELDA Nitar or FELCRA Seberang Perak. If you see kampung folks, believe me, those people are at par with the mat sallehs here…save for Steve alone, that is.

Oh, who is Steve? He is a mosque committee member who speaks malay perfectly. Some Malaysians cannot even form a sentence in Bahasa Malaysia.

This may be my last blog posting for 2006 as tomorrow is Aidil Adha for Muslims in Malaysia. The day after tomorrow we will be in the new year of 2007. Saddam Hussein won’t be celebrating either day.

I wrote some of the things I would like to achieve in 2006 and they are as follows:

For 2006:

1. I’m now doing my Divemaster training
2. Hope to at least become an Assistant Instructor before year end
3. Dive HMS Repulse
4. Conclude my land and timber sales deals (I hate finnicky buyers)

So where am I now?

1. I am now a Divemaster.
2. No, I haven’t begun to do my Assistant Instructor course as my priorities in diving have changed.
3. HMS Repulse is out of the question as the organisers cannot guarantee the safety of the LOB in Sri Lanka.
4. The buyers are still finnicky; I am now trying to conclude several land deals.

And what are the other things that have happened to me in 2006?

1. I completed my Decompression Procedures course.
2. I no longer work for Stale Tandoori Store.
3. I have moved back to my old (new) house.
4. I dived the Nichi Asu Maru and Gyoshin Maru wrecks.
5. Bought a Princeton Tec Shockwave LED dive light.
6. Made more friends (divers/non-divers).

What do I hope to achieve in 2007?

1. Get that LOB going.
2. Do my Instructor course and complete it, of course.
3. Do my KISS CCR course and buy one unit (manual).
4. Do my Extended Range course.
5. Do my Trimix course.
6. Do one more course that some friends and I plan to do.
7. Close the land by the beach deal (and several others in Kota Bharu, Langkawi and Bangkok).

So, if you look at the photo below, remember I asked how many of those in the photo would still be there at the Stale Tandoori Store? The answer is two.

I only wonder how much longer can the company sustain its operations, or how many more con-jobs can they do to get money to pay the employees.

Hussein al-Tikriti, or Saddam Hussein, is no more. He was executed by hanging at 10.05am Malaysian time, thus bringing to an end the life of a brutal dictator.

Saddam rose to power through bloody manipulation of the Ba’ath Party, after purging the party of dissidents, including some of his own uncles.

He did many bad and brutal things, including the massacre of fellow Muslims – Kurds and Shiahs.

Personally, I believe Saddam Hussein deserved to die, but at the hands of fellow Iraqis. Whether or not the current Iraqi government can be seen as one that is independent of the US, remains to be seen. I am sure he government tries to portray itself as not stooping to the demands of the US, but the fact that it was set up after an illegal invasion by the US and its allies makes it as just another extension of the arms of the US.

Personally, I will also wager my money that the violence in Iraq will not stop. Not at all. The current sectarian violence has nothing to do with Saddam, not directly anyway. In a country were the Shiahs are the majority, and the fact that they were subjugated by the minority Sunnis for decades, will ensure that the violence will not stop until the country is either controlled by one group, or broken up into different little countries according to sects, and even then, cross-border incursions will not stop, as the oil-rich territories will then be in the control of both Kurds and Shiahs.

In a way, Iraq was better off under the brutal control of Saddam Hussein. His death is only the end of ONE Iraqi nightmare amongst thousands others. And the timing of his excution could not have been worse. Every Aidil ‘Adha Muslims in the region will remember it as the day Saddam sacrificed himself.

The Internet’s been exceptionally slow today. Towards the end of this posting you will know why.

Where were you on Boxing Day of 2004?

Me, that morning, I woke up late…tennish I presume. The night before was my younger brother’s wedding reception at the Sheraton in Subang Jaya, and we had all stayed up until late. I didn’t feel the quake that morning. I got up, got ready, checked out of the hotel and went straight to Kajang for my maternal cousin’s wedding reception.

I had arrived home from Langkawi two days earlier, with colleagues from my former workplace. A friend of ours who works with a telco was to continue working on Rebak island through the Christmas weekend. I did not learn about the disaster until nightfall when another former colleague, Andy Lim sent me a text message saying a Tsunami had hit Langkawi and Penang islands. From that moment onwards, I flipped from one news channel to another, both local and international ones, to learn mor about the disaster. For the next two days, my former colleagues and I frantically tried to locate our friend who was supposed to be on Rebak island, as Rebak was one of the peripheral islands off Langkawi that was badly hit. Then he texted us saying he was on the mainland with his family when the waves hit Rebak. Thank God for common sense.

I watched the HBO movie on the Boxing Day Tsunami and how true to real it is. Two days after the Tsunami hit the west coast of Peninsular Malaysia, I was up north trying to gauge what was needed by those affected. The house I stayed in in Penang when I first got married was not spared, although it is still standing to this day. As those in Penang who were lost were mostly beach-goers, I shifted my atention to a fishing village in the Kuala Muda district in the state of Kedah. The HBO movie reminded me of that scene: confusion, chaos, people crying and wailing, destruction and what have you. There was no coordination between the various governmental and non-governmental orgnisations; agencies were jealously guarding whatever figures they had on casualties and victims; no one actually knew where to start. The State Assemblyman was very helpful, and I promised to get some help.

A week later, my NGO staff and I managed to muster aid in the form of goods donated by kind human beings: three truckloads plus my MPV. When agencies got to know of this convoy, each wanted the glory of being the agency resposible to distribute these aids. In the end, I managed to met the State Assemblyman who then directed us to the correct aid distribution center. There were many agencies that were not pleased with us but they can go and give the dog a bone for all I care.

Almost two years to the day, this nation’s readiness was again tested in the form of almost ten dead and some 80,000 odd victims being housed at relief centers due to the worst floods in three decades. I have not seen floods of this magnitude since standing on the hilltop of Bukit Peringgit in Melaka where my house was, looking at the “sea” beneath the hill. That was back in 1970/71, I think.

The problem is, every single agency head, political leader, NGO head etc, want mileage out of the misery of others; and disasters like this is the perfect opportunity for them to shine and be seen. And sadly, this is being done at the expense of the victims. Thus, there will never be coordination and economy of effort in disaster relief in this country as people will be too busy looking good for the cameras of the printed and electronic media.

And yesterday, there was a powerful earthquake that had hit Taiwan, but luckily the threat of an impending Tsunami has come and gone. However, cables damaged there is affecting communications in Malaysia, Singapore and elsewhere, according to a Taiwanese telco.

I shudder to think how the relevant agencies would react if they had to handle the floods and a Tsunami hitting the east coast of the Peninsular as well as the northern and western coast of Sabah.

We were brought up to think that Malaysia is virtually safe from unnatural disasters (there is nothing natural about earthquakes, Tsunamis, and hundreds of thousands dead in one go),but the recent earthquakes,the Boxing Day Tsunami, the recent typhoon that hovered off the East Coast, shows how vulnerable we are.

The weather and climate change every several thousand years. Maybe we have come to the end of that cycle.

This picture of Nisaa was taken as she turned 23 months old. Next month, she’ll turn two years old.

She’s a big girl now, she can form sentences, count from one to ten in both Malay and English, and whenever I do something absurd in front of her, she’d laugh and say, “Gila.”

Everywhere I take her people would come up to her and kiss her and tell me how much they love her curls and eyelashes.

And I love the way she calls out to me whenever she wakes up…always with a big smile.

This is Farhan on his 4th birthday. No, we did not celebrate his birthday, but I bought him a present.