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North Pole Freefall Expedition 1998 – The Beginning

The international logo

In this series, I shall write about the expedition I was a member of, week by week until the 10th anniversary of that landing done on the 21st April 1998 at the North Pole.

It all began in mid-January of 1998; it was during the month of Ramadhan, when Lt (B) A Aziz Ahmad (who was appointed the Jump Team Leader) called me up asking me to report to the Malaysian Ex-Commando Club (Kelab Bekas Komando Malaysia) for a breaking of the fast ceremony. I went, and the usual club committee members were there. That was when Datu Abdul Rahim Dahlan, the Expedition Leader (and then President of the Club) announced to the club members the intention to go to the North Pole, and my appointment as Deputy Jump Team Leader and Expedition Planner. Other members of the Support Team included Kapt (B) Sudirman and Kapt (B) Datuk Azmi Tan Sri Abdul Hamid Bidin. By the end of January, just before Aidil Adha, we had sent a letter to the Ministry of Defence, and the Royal Malaysian Police, to select two of their best freefallers each. The rest of the jumpers would include civilians from the Wilayah Sports Parachuting Club, and those selected by the Malaysian Parachuting Federation.

After Aidil Fitri, the team assembled at what was SENTRA Apartments (behind Wisma MCA) for mental training conducted by the Biro Tata Negara, and our first freefall training at Tasik Titiwangsa. The 16-member team comprised of Rahim (ex-GGK), Aziz (ex-PASKAU/HANDAU) and myself (ex-PASKAU/HANDAU) as the key people of the expedition, Nordziah Mohamed Noor, then 39-year old mother of five representing the MPF, 2 members each from the Air Force (PASKAU), Navy (PASKAL), Army (GGK), Police (VAT 69), Wilayah Sports Parachuting Club, and two VIDIOTS (freefall cameramen) – Kapt (B) Noorizan (a.k.a No Reason – ex GGK), and Mejar Kamaruddin (Air Force – PASKAU, now based at TUDM Ipoh).

Our first freefall training was conducted over Tasik Titiwangsa on Sunday, 8th March 1998. Reporter Stephanie Rajendram from the NST filed this report:

Our parachutists to freefall onto North Pole

Monday, March 9, 1998

By Stephanie Rajendram

KUALA LUMPUR, Sun. – Spurred by the successful scaling of Mount Everest in May last year, Malaysia has set her sights on the North Pole.

In what appears to be no easy feat, 15 parachutistswill attempt to freefall onto a drop zone at the Pole, amidst unpredictable weather conditions and harsh terrain on April 18.

Nordziah Mohamad Noor, 39, a mother of five, will be the only woman in the team.

The “North Pole Freefall Expedition Malaysia 1998” is being organised by the Youth and Sports Ministry and the Malaysian Parachuting Federation under the patronage of Prime Minister Datuk Seri Dr Mahathir Mohamad.

Dr Mahathir is scheduled to launch the expedition on March 30 which is being financed by various sponsors.

In a practice jump carried out at Lake Titiwangsa today, expedition leader Abdul Rahim Dahalan said they only had till the end of the month to practise on home ground before leaving for Moscow on April 1 where more gruelling practice sessions await them.

“We will be training at a special landing zone area for free-fallers 80km north-west of Moscow. We will be training for seven days in a row, sometimes performing as many as three jumps a day,” he said.

The reason for picking Moscow, according to Abdul Rahim, was because the Russians were providing the team with logistical support in addition to assisting in rescue and emergency strategies.

“The other reason is the almost similar weather conditions to the Arctic,” he said, adding that their last practice session would be at Kathanga, Siberia, where it is -35 degrees Celsius.

Abdul Rahim said all the parachutists except Nordziah were experienced jumpers from the Armed Forces, police, the Federal Territory Parachute Club and the MPF as well.

Meanwhile, team doctor Dr M. Kamaruddin Isa, said all safety precautions were being taken, from using boots that can withstand up to -73 degrees Celsius and insulated suits to protect against the cold.

“They will be jumping from a height of about 3,500 metres where it is as cold as -70 degrees Celsius,” said Dr Kamaruddin who will be part of the support ground crew.

The jumpers have been advised to jump during “a window period” when the weather is expected to be less hazardous and the recommended dates have been been April 18, 19 and 20.

The freefallers are expected to pull their cord to release “ramair parachutes” (rectangle in shape), at about 750m and land on four-metre thick ice, coating waters as deep as 4,200m.

Besides the danger of them landing in a crevice or ice cold water, winds lashing at 175km per hour could also jeopardise the jumpers.

Spunky Nordziah, an officer with a local training company, who has also hiked up Mount Sibayak (a live volcanic mountain in North Sumatra), said she was excited about taking part in the expedition.

Expedition members after the Tasik Titiwangsa jump

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As The Wind Blew Strongly Outside

“You have not been sleeping properly, have you?” she asked me, her face trying to look stern, I almost laughed. I didn’t say anything. “And you had Maggi at 4.30 in the morning?”

“Yup, I did,” I admitted my guilt. There was no point for me to deny that one. The empty bowl she found by the kitchen sink this morning was evident of my bad habit of eating late at night.

“We must do something about this late night meals of yours,” she began. “I don’t want to see you grow bigger!”

I looked at her innocently and asked, “But what if it gets bigger down there?”

“Ah, like that okay la,” she replied with a smile, then spanked me hard. “But that is wishful thinking, isn’t it?”

No reply.

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King On The Throne

Play golf while dumping crap

Imagine the time wasted while you sit on the throne. The above is a new idea on what you can actually do while dumping your crap. But I cannot imagine having to walk from the throne if you want to get the ball back, and you’re having diarrhoea at that time.

I would either have a magazine or a novel with me. If I cannot get those, then I would read the fine label prints of a shampoo bottle or the toothpaste tube. However, thanks to the advent of wireless technology, I am writing this from my bedroom toilet. Imagine the number of fine ideas you get while you dump the crap out of you – marvellous.

My favourite read in the toilet would consist of anything on theology, any underwater activity, military or politics; there was once when I would frequent to the toilet after forcing myself to eat spicy food just so I could finish this non-fiction novel on the involvement of the United States Coast Guard in World War Two. There were times when I would finish one whole chapter only to find my butt feeling very dry and flaky. Of course squeezing your butt-cheek or clenching the muscles of your sphincter would help remove the flakes and make washing of the bum much easier.

Nice toilet

Nothing beats a clean toilet bowl. My favourites would include less-visited R&R or lay-bys along the North-South highway. I would however avoid the ones at the Tapah R&R because the toilets there are worse than popular prostitutes who hardly have the time to dry their pubic region because of high demand. But you cannot win them all: dumping crap is an activity that cannot be stopped by anyone, even if the King himself has summoned you. If you have to go, you have to go. Recently I was at this famous shopping mall in the Klang valley and after a bout of spicy indian food, found myself running to the gents. This was the emergency type where a simple fart in the pants would be extremely disastrous. Unfortunately, all but one toilet bowl was free, and it had to be the one with a broken seat and rim. Let me tell you, I managed to dump my crap and how I did it deserves me a phD.

So, what is your favourite activity while sitting on YOUR throne?

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It’s 1.05am

My friends died on the Death Star
Damn! My friends died on that Death Star!

The night is as dark, as it is as empty and as soul-less
it echoes an eerie silence of loneliness
the chill of the night seizes every inch and every part
this pain, like a thousand needles poking at my heart

A dozen miles of God’s earth separate us
as our hearts yearn for togetherness
I scream out loud but there is only silence
my voice muted in an emotional violence

Your touch that soothes me, I will never get
your kiss that warms me, I can never forget
your caring hands, filled with lovingly feel
your undying love, for which I would gladly kill

Though I see you daily from my visions of the past
my soul aches to know how long will this life last

1.21am – 11th February 2008
5th day of the Lunar New Year

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When It Gets Hard In Between The Legs

We were lying down on the carpet after clearing up the condo. So much rubbish after last night’s party. The air-conditioner was blowing strong, and the fan was spinning at number 3.

“We have to be at the church before 6,” she said suddenly.

“That’s okay. We can leave in half an hour’s time,” I replied. “Can I get in between your legs?”

“Whatever for?” she asked.

“I just want to feel comfortable and nice,” I replied, taking my position on top of her and my legs in between hers.

Suddenly she lurched upwards, “Ouch! What’s that hard thing poking in between my thighs?”

I looked down and put my hand down there.

“Oh, it’s that damned wallet again, Honey.”

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Shuang Jie Gun

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 qi

kuai 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

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Korek, Korek

Korek must be the buzz word nowadays. It can also be habitual. I caught my son picking his nose the other day (Korek Hidung) and scolded him. But how on earth can I tell him that such act is unbecoming if this woman does it too?

Queen Elizabeth II picking her nose

I remember back in 1993 when my squadron also doubled as the base’s Provost, one of my Senior Non-Comms, Sarjan Uzaid, informed me that some men were going for Kopi Korek after work and were getting the attention of the religious authorities. For a moment, it did not strike my mind how “Digging Coffee” would be detrimental to one’s religious or moral standing until Uzaid described me roughly what the term meant. I decided I had to put a stop to those visits before they become habitual. Of course all the Koreking happened in a darkened coffeeshop:

Korek! Korek!

Man, gone are the days when the term Korek would be associated with something more productful, like the Kapal Korek (Dredging Vessel), something that would have been a normal view for those passing through the Bidor to Teluk Intan road, or the Tronoh and Tanjung Tualang areas. Those born after the late-70s may not know what I am talking about, so here is to Korek your memory bank:

Kapal Korek

Of course, the most famous Tukang Korek now is none other than our very own VK Lingam, who has been associated closely to my paternal aunt’s ex-husband, Eusoff Chin (yeah, the plonk used to be married to my Mak Andak when he was a High Court judge). Lingam’s famous Korek! Korek! is now one of the most downloaded ringtone. What he was saying was “Correct! Correct!” in his purported teleconversation with the former CJ Ahmad Fairuz. For those who have not heard how Lingam Koreks, you may click on this link.

Ahmad Fairuz had to endure Lingam's non-stop KOREK
Ahmad Fairuz had to endure Lingam’s non-stop KOREKs

Lingam, during the Royal Inquiry, had repeatedly denied the fact that it was him who was shown in the video when all evidences proved that it was him. And his Korek had become so habitual that he even used those words during the inquiry.

Anyway, Lingam is now a superstar, both in court and off-court. If you don’t believe me, he has a chance to make it as big as Snoop Dogg or 50 Cent. He now has his own rap music cut for him, it is called the Lingam Korek Rap.

This insomnia had better not be habitual otherwise I’ll have to find more things to write about Lingam.

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Prosperous Tapioca Industry

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.

Orang Asli home

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.