COLIN and his PENAPHERNALIA.

 The most memorable part of coming back to KL was not :

1.  The Home Quarantine e-bracelet and the Covid 19 Lateral Flow Test.  From 2 days before we departed from Heathrow and the end of the Quarantine we had altogether 7 Covid tests to prove we were negative (of Covid, not attitude) and hence acceptable to be let loose - despite getting all three vaccinations.

Our e-bracelet and negative tests.

2.  The surprises awaiting when we got home.

Fermented pasta in the kitchen cupboard (left) and exploding tiles in the study (right).

3.  Leaking roof in the bedroom which saturated the base of boxes of gramophone records and books, suitcases of my precious batik collection and embroidery, Iain's drawings and black and white photographs from the 1960s  This we knew a few days before we left when our lovely neighbour Zarina and son Haiqal went upstairs to supervise the cleaners.

The sodden, sodding floor after 2 weeks of drying and airing (left) and dear Haiqal laying out the gramophone records made up mostly of Malay songs from the 1950s and early 1960s (right).

4.  Operation touch-and-go repair.

                        1 - Drying out the record cases.

                        2 - Record sleeves - after Iain's repair.

                        3 - Some of the salvaged records.

                        4 - Some of the stuff transferred to the dry bedroom including Iain's drawings for 

                             "Fatimah's Kampung" and the record player.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words (and sodden belongings) can never hurt me.

Leaving Leicester can be heart-rending because we have to leave behind dear old friends.  Friends who are kind, generous and gracious;  friends like Jack, Jackie and Julia, Jagdish and his wife Poonam, friends in Leicester Animal Rescue Charity Shop and last but not least, Colin.

2021/2022 had been a "long, hard winter" for us but good old Colin brought out the sun.  He is a Jack of all trades (or in modern parlance a "Renaissance Man") but above all he is a master photographer.  As a photographer, Colin brings with him the light and the colours of the most generous sun.  

But for silly ole Ash, Colin is (and has always been) a dear friend, the world's greatest boyfriend - and one of her two bestest idiots.

 

In fact, Colin has his own mug, strictly reserved for him when he turns up at our house for tea or lunch or dinner!

To add to his credentials, he is also responsible for causing a domestic fracas in our household.   Let me explain.

This Christmas, Colin gave us a precious gift he made with his own hands.   Here is a picture (with copyright notice added):

Pen 1 : For Iain or Maznoor.

Pen 2 : for Maznoor or Iain.

We can only choose one but we are still fighting over which one.  In fact each one of us would love to have both!!

What is the pedigree of these two ironwood pens?

It started with this piece of ironwood from Quoin Hill, near Tawau in Sabah, given to Iain when we visited the Cocoa Research Centre.

.

It was from a gigantic ironwood tree that looked like the one below.

AsH (not the tree) and the ironwood tree (1983) behind her.

Iain gave his good mate Colin this piece of ironwood when he learned of Colin's new hobby, making pens from wood.  To enliven these times of Covid pandemic, Colin spends hours and hours in his garage, making pens out of specially selected woods.  

Iain is also in love with wood.   He has a collection of wood pieces ranging from a bit of plank from Iceland, a piece picked up from a tree felled near P Ramlee's house in Kuala Lumpur, pohutukawa from the volcano of Rangitoto Island, Australian Jarra from an old railway sleeper in NZ, a 30,000 year old length of swampwood from NZ, rosewood from an old rosebush growing in our front garden at Oxford Avenue Leicester, hawthorn from a hedge near a pig farm on the A1 in England, oak from a fence post in Wales, the rewa rewa from his Mum's old hand mirror, all kinds of driftwood from Paekakariki beach (his home village in NZ), swamp myrtle from Norfolk from his late friend Dave, a belian roof tile from Sumatra given to him by an old Malay lady in Muar, olive wood from Bethlehem bought from an antique shop, and his piece de resistance, a 200 million year old fossilized tree trunk from South Africa which was given to his father Keith when he was teaching in South Africa during the late 1940s.   

But back to Colin.    I wanted to know from Colin how he constructed these beautiful writing tools.  As I was too dense (like the ironwood) to fully understand the process from Colin's verbal description, he gave this illustrated account for his pen-pal idiot.

THE STORY OF COLIN'S PENS

The first step

Colin,  although you have no wish to share your garage space with spiders, at least you are gentle with them.     Because of that, you can be assured - the next time we get back to England - of your supply of spicy roast chicken, yellow rice, tomato chutney, bread and butter pudding, lemon layer pudding, onion bhajis, rice noodle soup, roti jala and Malay chicken curry and your top favourite from my kitchen, lemon cheesecake!  I shall of course ensure that the spouse keeps you well supplied with mugs and mugs of tea.

"Ta raa me duck!"   Keep safe and well while we're away.

Postscript.

More examples of CGB's work.

In Loving Memory of KT

Dear KT.  It took your sad passsing for me to discover that you were 12 years older than me!  In all those two years when I was your colleague and lunch companion at Jurong Secondary School from 1975 to 1977 and during our lunch-revivals when I was teaching in Brunei from 1978 to 1984 and after I left Singapore for good as of 1985, you were the epitome of youthful liveliness and good cheer.

That memory of our times together as colleagues and good friends have lit up my life and times all these years since we were separated by our changing and changed directions in life.

I am so grateful that sometime during 2008 or 2009 those dear former students of ours from JSS (Year 1977) managed to put us together again.  By then life and circumstances have changed drastically for both of us and our girls as well.  But you retained that effervescent personality and gentle graciousness that have always been your hallmark for as long as I have known you.  What I would give to catch that warm and sweet smile again.

I remember two occasions when we were teaching at JSS when I saw a  Miss Lim Keow Teen that so endeared you to me and I felt that here was one good person and friend I must treasure.

It was sometime during my first week in JSS when I encountered my first dose of the incorrigible spirit of these kids from the backwaters of US or Ulu Singapore.  No middle class parents would deign to enrol their offspring in JSS - a den of working class kids from Jurong Industrial Estate.  

I was on my way to the Teachers' Common Room when I saw a little commotion in one of the classrooms.  There was a bunch of 14 year-old boys pushing something into the class cupboard.  I put my head in and asked if there was a problem.  They were startled and as a result, several boys fell out of the cupboard, the littlest of them was the first one to descend.  I still remember his name, Suhaimi.  The puzzled (not angry) look on my face made one of them explain: "We are trying to find out how many (boys) can be stored in the cupboard."  What did I do? The normal thing was to call in the Discipline Teacher and bundle them into the Principal's Office.  I put on a  straight face and told them sternly, "Just be careful".

As soon as I got into the TCR I broke out in laughter at the antics of these scalawags .  They've got spirit I said.  But some of the teachers frowned and said they should be punished.  Only one teacher shared my glee. She was Miss Lim Keow Teen who became from then on my very special friend.

I found it strange that the ones who disapproved were younger than KT and I!

KT was a brilliant English Language and English Literature teacher.  She could extract the best out of those kids even though they think she's rather old-fashioned and quaint because of her hair style and her dressing.

She was later relegated  to teaching English as a Second Language in the Chinese stream of JSS.  As she was not a graduate she had to give way to someone who was.  KT and I often recall this graduate's excuse for not being too happy to teach one of Shakespeare's plays.  I can't remember which.  It was because she did not study that particular play when she was in University!

So KT went to her  ESL lesson for Secondary Two, Chinese stream. When she greeted them with the usual "Good Morning Class", they responded with grumpy mutterings - almost hostile.  Then one of them, a girl,  stood up and haughtily asked KT, "You are Chinese, why do you teach English?"  For a moment, KT was stunned, She simply told them.  " I am here because I was given this duty by your Principal.  Whether you like it or not, English is an important language for you to learn."

A few days later as KT was walking past these Chinese stream classes the students had prepared another greeting for her.  They snapped shut very loudly one by one, the series of louvred windows as KT walked past each classroom.  She was assailed by the sounds of snap, snap, snap, snap  from the louvres of each window as she walked along the corridor.  There was no one to be seen - just that serial clattering of snaps.  KT kept calm and when she got into the Teachers Common Room, she broke down in helpless tears.  How cruel, these snaps of bigotry and terrorising from such young souls!  All said and done, the Principal tried to assuage KT's anger and explained to her why these Chinese stream students did what they did, blah, blah, blah and all they had to do was to make a curt apology to the 'sen, sen'.

KT and I knew if the situation had been reversed and the English stream students did that to the Mandarin Language teacher, they would face the full wrath of punishment and discipline from the Nanyangian top hierarchy of Jurong Secondary School.

KT, I salute your bravery and your professionalism. I remembered you saying, "They are just kids, Maz.  Some adults  put them up to it."  

Your graciousness is so inspiring.

I shall never forget you dear friend.  Have a peaceful journey and may flights of angels wing you on your way.

                                          "Just Like Yesterday" by James Griffin (of Bread)

As miserable as ..................

 ...... sin.  So it says in a dictionary of similes.  But there's nothing pitiable about sin.  I prefer "as miserable as a frost bitten apple" - from Frank J Wilstach's  'A Dictionary of Similes'.

For the past two weeks, AsH has been feeling wretched because the laptop was hit by a virus, it had to be disinfected.  Then there came the re-formatting.  AsH had to save all her stuff in Pictures and Documents into a Hard Drive.  After the formatting was done, she discovered to her horror that she had not saved Word and the Printer/Scanner ... more sighs ... more wringing of hands ..... technology is wonderful but this time technology sucks.  I blame it mainly on myself because this hi-tech world is not for the likes of someone born in the first half of the last century.

How shall I deal with this?  Yes!  I shall cook an English dinner and invite this deserving and loving lass Dorah and her good friend Sheila (who cooks the tastiest lasagne East of Bangi) as our special guests. 

___________________________________________________________________________________

[Dear Lely, we wish you could be here too (because I made the same roast chicken stuffing that you so liked so much .....

Remember this Roast Chicken dinner?

........ when you came to spend the spring of 2008 with us in Leicester many, many moons ago).  But that nasty Covid 19 has made a right mess of our lives and relationships in 2020.  However, we will be thinking of you and Uncle  especially - by devouring your share]

___________________________________________________________________________________

So I vented my frustration over the computer by cooking all day on Saturday. It was a right slap-up meal of mushroom soup with croutons, roast chicken marinated in rosemary and olive oil plus stuffing, sauted potatoes, French beans in garlic butter, Yorkshire pudding and Iain's in-house salad. 

For dessert, it had to be the spouse's favourite apple pie and custard. 

 That indeed washed away all my misery. 

 

And when the young 'uns like Dorah exclaimed, "Auntie, I'm going to eat first.  I just cannot, I cannot help myself" followed by a sweet "Thank you, Uncle" from Sheila, I knew I can now say bye bye to my computer woes.

Bless their cotton socks!!

Syukur Alhamdulillah for the food on our table, for all our blessings.  The heart however, cannot and must not stop thinking about the misery of so many in our Tanah Air who are jobless and trying their darndest to keep body and soul together while our elite, political and business thrive on their ill-gotten wealth, their power-lust, grand lifestyle and  privileges.

Hari Kebangsaan Malaysia 2020

I think love is so beautiful ........

Top left : Ros and AsH at the Pavillion in the grounds of Tugu Negara. 
                  Top Right :  A similar sense of affection and friendship, though of dissimilar age.    Thank you Dorah, for capturing that moment for posterity.             
 

As for the picture on the right and the caption below, it came from an article in a magazine of picures of children and their quotes which I had cut and pasted into a Scrapbook that I kept during my years of teaching in Brunei from 1978-1984.


If there wasn't any love there would be madness.


In 1983 I took the first of my two trips to India, accompanying the spouse on his research work during his sabbatical.
I was not prepared for the poverty that existed in India.  More so when one noticed the obscene gap between the rich and the poor.  The poverty that surrounded me was quite overpowering and so despairing that you almost lose your sense of humanity.  When a group of child-beggars gathered around me at Bombay's Victoria Terminal ......




with their big doleful eyes saying, "help me, I need food", I broke down and yelled,
"Go to Rajiv Gandhi!" He was then the PM of India.

That was my breaking point after being constantly confronted and assailed by the poor, especially the children and women on the streets of Bombay.

Having a bath on the street.

Got back to my job in Brunei, and I just had to take a picture of this billboard along Jalan Gadong on my way to Maktab Perguruan Sultan Hassanal Bolkiah.

Polo has been described as the Game of Kings.

When I got home to my flat at Anggerek Desa, the very next day, I wrote this poem which took me just about ten minutes to write.

With the odour of shameless poverty in India still reeking in my psyche, I wrote of  "the hungry Child (who) dissipates into an echoing hunger and craves for carrion's share".  In my memory I recalled a scene at a railway platform of a comfortable-looking Indian resident throwing his unfinished bhaji to a beggar squatting at the side of the wall.  The beggar grabbed the leftover.  It was like throwing rejected food at a stray dog!

Abah would get us the Straits Times Annual every year.  One picture from the early 1960s (I think) stuck in my mind for years, that of an exhausted, weary and weather-beaten fisherman from Dungun with his catch, which I think could provide just one meal for  his family and a liitle more which his wife could turn into kropok to bring in some cash.  I finally managed to get to Dungun in 2019 and from what I observed in that fishing town, I reckon the children of that fisherman have done quite well in the space of 59 years.  But of course, the Malaysians on the 'multiracial' West Coast and especially the urbanites,  have progressed by leaps and bounds in comparison to the Malays on the East Coast.

Today, the child who wrote that little quote about love and madness ......

........ might think the world has become a lunatic asylum.  Or maybe not.  Maybe it's just a cynical and pesimistic AsH who has seen too much and been too long on the road.

But something wonderful was in store for AsH.

When I started blogging in 2008, I encountered several like-minded spirits, good souls like Ros and her daughter Catharsis aka Dorah.  Early this year we met up with Dorah and just a month ago we had the pleasure of the company of her Mak and Abah, Ros and Kadir.  Dorah has been like a guardian angel, and a lady-knight in shining armour for us during the Covid 19 MCO.  But after several months of knowing her she has turned into our "me duck" ( a term of endearment used by the good folks of Leicester).  As a result I think she is going quackers hoo hoo!


On Sunday 20 August, Ros and Kadir and Dorah took the two geriatrics for a Malay breakfast at Nasi Lemak Tanglin followed by a stopover at Tugu Negara. We are not one for monumental structures but I must say it was quite breath-taking.

I just wish Abah and his mates, the LEP (Local Enlisted Personnel) in the RAMC or Royal Army Medical Corp of the British Army could have seen it too.  That generation sacrificed a lot before, during and after the Communist Insurrection from 1948-1960.

Left:Ros and Ash.   Right:Their (In)significant Other,  Iain and Kadir

And so, we got home to Setiawangsa to partake of hot lemon tea brewed by a genuine English bloke.

We had a warm cosy tea-chat  on the verandah facing Iain's garden.

He was quite chuffed about how Ros and especially Kadir, were the only guests we had who really appreciated his "wild garden",  a habitat for birds, toads, tree shrews, butterflies and our nerdy cats.

Kadir, my favourite 27 year old kampung rotan chair and Ros; with Rusty in the background  getting narked with all these 2-legged creatures interrupting his kip.

But Dorah landed herself in hot soup/tea :

Ooooh , you're in trouble.

She had nicked Uncle Iain's personal Union Jack mug!! Even AsH has to ask his special permission just to clean that tea-stained mug.  One day that mug might be classified as racist because of the (late Empire's) flag.  After all the BBC have banned quite recently the lyrics of "Land of Hope and Glory" and "Rule Brittania" for the Last Night of the Proms.

On that day, thanks to Ros and Kadir and Dorah we savoured the meaning of that quote.

Merdeka and Freedom would be futile if we cannot translate it into friendship, sharing and respect for one another and the values that each one of us hold dear.

Here is a fitting image to end this posting.

With the Tugu Negara behind you, my generation is passing on the baton to you and your generation of kindred spirit to preserve and protect what your forefathers and foremothers have sacrificed and upheld for their future generation.

Jackie and Julia - Episode 3

Dear Leicester Ladies, my heartfelt apologies for the long, long delay in concluding the episode on the rise and fall, and fall of Jackie and Julia.  Since you left we have had no end of visitors from Japan, New York, Tung Shin Hospital, Putrajaya, Petaling Jaya and UM - and the mandatory meals.

By now I hope you have been fully rehabilitated into your cultural and culinary milieu.  We expect to see the ole familiar J and J when we get back in a few weeks' time.

Let me now recall your adventures just for the record and perhaps after this you can submit the whole series for publication in our Leicester Mercury.

I do hope the following revelations about the two of you will not be too salacious for some of the conservative folks in the East Midlands - though I do believe these little stories will not jeopardise your standing in the NHS (for Julia) and in Animal Rescue (for Jackie).    Well, at least we hope so.

Taking the water :  During the 18th and 19th century the Brits would  partake of the waters in the spas of cities like Bath.  It was supposed to detoxify the body from all the nasty effects of a rich and lazy lifestyle - to improve the circulation, so to speak.

Well, when Jackie and Julia came to the Tropics they made sure they took to the water - this time in Pulau Kapas.

Taking to the lovely warm tropical waters of Pulau Kapas

Indeed, the experience improved their circulation and more!   (The spouse says it improved the circulation of the sharks too - he saw half a dozen circling the two ladies!)

The subsequent events were almost like watching the transformation of Eliza Doolitle  ( My Fair Lady) in reverse: from high society lady to a Cockney flower seller!


Cor Blimey.....they started eating with their hands!  They threw caution and their cutlery to the winds and tucked into Malay food, lock stock and barrel using their hands.

Tucking into Terengganu fish, fish and more fish under the tutelage of Nulan.

Wot! no teapot? no cups and saucers! And wot's that rainbow drink?  I think it's Terengganu ABC Margharita - J & J could not resist it.

Besides that, they became quite adept in disembarking from a ferry, Terengganu style.  No jetties, just a step ladder - but still clutching on to a  Leicester CO-OP shopping bag.  You can take Julia out of Leicester but you cannot take the CO-OP out of Julia.

Barefooted belles from Linden Drive, Leicester

By now, J & J are familiar with the habit of taking off shoes when entering a Malaysian house.  And they naturally did it when Nulan took us to a heritage kampung house at Pulau Duyung (see the above image on the right).

There was a lot to learn (and appreciate) from this visit to Kota Lama Duyung.

A synopsis of Kota Lama Duyung.

From top right clockwise:  the bedroom, the well and the kolam, the para or kitchen and the front of Kota Lama Duyung.

Again on Pulau Duyung, we discovered almost by chance a traditional Terengganu boatmaking yard under the bridge linking Pulau Duyung to the mainland.  As a contrast there was Terengganu's version of what the locals describe as Tower Bridge of London.  We reckon the former is far more formidable than the latter.

But now, as a caption to the pictures below: Just a little worrying prophecy from Ash for what she reckons is the last bastion of  a truly Malay landscape, Malay economy and Malay lifestyle in a Tanah Melayu.

 Top left : an abandoned local welfare organisation (Pertubuhan Kebajikan Pulau Duyung).  Hopefully this organisation has been moved to  another/better building.
Lower left :  An unloved kampung house next door to Kota Lama Duyung.  Top Right : a wakaf needing a bit of TLC.  Lower Right :  On the road from Marang to Terengganu; just look at them thar hills - a yummy site for developers to rush in and construct gated housing estates and condominiums along this prime and beautiful East Coast Road.

Sorry.  It's just AsH being a cynical old git!!


Our last day in Terengganu was spent driving all the way back to the Muddy Estuary (KL).  On the way Nulan stopped at a beach with an amazing rocky outcrop.  Iain and I tried to recollect our lessons in geology from decades ago to figure out the rock structure but to no avail.  Still, it's a beautiful formation.

Most interesting are the two lower images which show the symbiosis(?) or struggle(?) between vegetation and an eroding top soil.

While the beach looked spectacular we were a bit perplexed.  Why did Nulan make this stopover? Uh huh, is there some mischief afoot?  Is our guide and leader finding us too much of a handful - three women who never stop talking in the car and won't allow him to switch on the radio.  As for the other male, all he does is fiddle about with the aircon knobs in the car and says a lot of "yes dear", "no dear" . Oh dear!!!

1.  It was Julia (top left) who felt the first inkling of concern.
2.  She then directed Iain to climb up the rock and be the look out man(top right).
3.  Then he saw Nulan sitting and talking to a few men resting at the wakaf (lower left). Two of them had very heavily laden bicycles with them.  Should we worry?
4.  Never fear, Jackie,  our intrepid SRN (State Registered Nurse) caught sight of a tour bus on the main road (lower right).  We have our escape route!!!!

But all was well.  Nulan was just chatting to two middle aged men from Kedah who were cycling in the Semenanjung in preparation for their journey on the Hajj - by bicycle - next year!  We had a chat with them and were quite overwhelmed by the dedication and tenacity of these two ordinary and brave men from Kedah.  May Allah keep them safe.

Through a heavy rainstorm along the Karak Highway, Nulan drove us safely home to Kuala Lumpur.

Before the ladies flew home to Leicester, Din (the man who facilitated our holiday in Terengganu) arranged a reunion of the Magnificient Five  and a meeting with Nulan's family.  It was good because we got a chance to thank his lovely wife and daughter for 'lending' him to us so that we could have a safe and wonderful holiday in Terengganu.

What a lovely Finale.

Back in KL we left them on their own to do the usual tourist trips to Batu Caves, Pulau Ketam, Twin Towers, jumping on the hop-on and hop-off buses.   (A disclaimer:  We are not responsible for what they got up to during this time!)

But, just to be on the safe side, Iain wrote them a warning note when they got back home.

"How are the folks at LAR (Leicester Animal Rescue)?  Do give them our love, and we shall see them at the Christmas do - unless you manage to twist arms  and have us banned.  If you do, we shall tell them all about your clubbing nights in downtown KL.  I know you don't remember, but it was really difficult carrying you both from the taxi at 4 am.  And not just one night!"

They flew home to their cat Minx and their lovely garden on 5 October.

It was not easy to say good-bye.

Taraa me duck!

We've grown accustomed to their ....