Showing posts with label Jurong Sec School. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jurong Sec School. Show all posts

Monday, 7 January 2019

AsH's Grove

I was taught this song during Music Class at Crescent Girls School during the late 1950s.




On 23 December last year came three visitors to grace our home.  What a soothing finale for 2018, for Ash and spouse.  Two of them, Mr Yuwrajh Durgude and Mr Charles Beale came from New York via Singapore just to "catch up with the Buchanans".  We last met Yuwrajh in May last year ........

https://anaksihamid.blogspot.com/2018/05/my-celebrated-settee-and-yuwrajhs-pop-in.html


............  but we had not seen Charlie for nearly ten years.  What a grand reunion for these two youngsters from Generation X and the septuagenarians from the post-War baby boomers.

Yuwrajh and Charlie excelled themselves as guests.  They not only belanja us for breakfasts and lunches but they also did the washing up!

From New York I only requested one Calvin and Hobbes but they brought me four.

The scarf, another gift from Mexico City makes a nice wrapper for me and for my C&H.  
By the way, I've read them all and all the rest of the C&H issues.  Any more ... please?

They had an odd Christmas with us when we went for a walk at Bukit Ampang

Lost at Bukit Ampang on Christmas Day.
.
I sent a local guide to look for them.

Had to give the guide a bag of peanuts for doing a good job.

And of course we must have that 'selfie' though the spouse did look a bit lost trying to understand the technology of the Smart Phone.

Yuwrajh and Charlie, do come back. Your room is waiting for you, here in KL and in Leicester.

For us, in this December good things came twice.

Two old friends who have lost touch for over 30 years, two boys from my teaching days of 1975-1977,  met on the 23rd.  I watched and listened to them exchanging tales and experiences from their
last few decades and I just felt like the most privileged teacher on this planet.

Yuwrajh and Din (and friends) forty years ago.


Din, Yuwrajh, Charlie - bless you all and your cotton socks.  Sob, sob!

Here's another song from my colonial style education days.  Very, very apt.





Tuesday, 27 September 2016

Unconquerable in Singapore

In English Universities we refer to our lecturers by their first names - that is what they prefer despite their academic titles of Dr or Professor.  Many, many years ago when Iain Buchanan was my tutor-lecturer, he preferred to be just Iain, and not Mr Buchanan. But being Asians we were not comfortable with the familiarity of the first name.  Respect for your teacher (and elders) was the norm.

In my experience as a teacher, despite 40 years of affectionate attachment between AsH and her former students from Jurong Secondary School; "Miss Hamid" is still their term of reference for me.  With an age gap of 17/18 years between us, they are not old enough to consider me as a "kakak" and not young enough to regard me as a "Mak Ngah".  (My youngest niece  is in her mid-twenties.)  But beneath it all, the bond of respect for their teacher is upheld by the nomenclature "Miss Hamid".

After all, I had a problem in changing the designation of Mr Buchanan to Iain when we got hitched up.  But now after years of matrimony, 'hey you' is good and sweet enough!

So "Miss Hamid" I shall be for the rest of my days. The spouse is an "Uncle" or just "Iain" to the girls while the boys simply call him "Iain".  Mr Buchanan is out of the question.

Last weekend (23-25 September), I left 'hey you' at home with a large pan of chicken curry for dinner/lunch and sultana and orange cake for snacks and tea, while I gallivanted down to Singapore.  Despite his wish, he could not accompany me to visit the "Kids"in Singapore for reasons known only to the  Singapore authorities.  Who are we to ask and to know why?

On Friday, from Changi Airport, Jai deposited me at a Malay "kedai makan"  at Kandahar Street...

From the "kedai makan".
 ... as he went on to Masjid Sultan nearby for Friday Prayers.


Masjid Sultan




The Congregation leaving the Masjid.

The old and new.

As I sat at the "kedai", observing the buildings ...

The wooden 'extension' at the top of the kedai,  a defiant two-fingers at progress and regulations!


......  and the people in this neighbourhood' , a poignant feeling welled up in me - this is the world of my childhood and teenage and adult years!

On each payday,  Abah  would buy us a treat  of nasi briani or roti murtabak  from Islamic Restaurant or Victory Restaurant at North Bridge Road.  NB. The man in the picture is guiding his friend who was reversing his car.  Nothing dastardly intended.


I will never be able to feel this way about Ampang Road, Leboh Masjid India, or Chow Kit.  Though the backlanes were not as spanking clean as today....




....  they are still the backlanes of my past when I visited my friends at Race Course Lane.  But I much prefer the muck and clutter of backlanes gone by.

The food may cost more today but the menu and aroma of the food remains the same; especially the omelette or telur dadar.  No eating establishment in KL can imitate or beat that rich juicy mixture of eggs, onions, chilis and daun sop (Chinese parsley).  So I asked myself   "How could I leave all this, the hallowed space of my growing-up years?  Or maybe to put it another way, "What happened to this space to make me leave?" - to move from my mother's tanah air to my father's?  Culturally, ethnographically, geographically, historically - they should be one.

Talking about food,  Jai excelled himself in not only giving us the hospitality of his abode for the get-together but he  also supplied the provisions, the facilities, the transport and manpower for a truly supercalifragilisticaspialidocious  meal, not just once, but for two nights running.

Pickle, Salad, Chapatti, Rice and Dhal - genuine Punjab cuisine.

As the matriarch at the gathering, AsH became the official food taster with Jai giving an indulgent smile on the left and Lely and Ummu pretending to ignore AsH's privilege.  

Clockwise: Kumar (chapatti chef), Malkit (dhal and chicken curry chef), Manjeet (unofficial chef) - all from Punjab. Thank you boys - we really appreciate your culinary skills.  More please!!???

A chapatti toast to the chef.  Lely (in red) and Irene in the foreground are now smiling because they had a tiny morsel of my victuals. 

The dinner (rojak mamak) before the  gourmet Punjabi meal. From L to R: Ash, Jai, Lely, Irene and Veera.


A smiling Veera - after picking up tips on the art of making chapati from Kumar.


Great food, great company, lively conversation with old and new friends - which went on until one in the morning.

But my greatest pleasure, which will last me to the end of my days was to see Irene laughing and enjoying the time we were sharing.  Next week she will begin her regime of chemotherapy, the first of sixteen.  All the joy we have had this weekend will have to suffice, to hold Irene - and the people who love her - together.  My whole being aches for her.  Her courage and her determined effort to keep on being brave and philosophical is heartrending and yet so inspiring.  I know she is doing this for the sake of her friends and less for herself.  She keeps her coming hell under wraps, keeping it for herself to confront.

I have known this sweet and gentle woman since she was fifteen and shared some of her ups and downs.  "What to do, Miss Hamid?" has always been her plaintive acknowledgement when life becomes a bit raw.  But this time dear girl, you have us all rooting for you, caring and looking out for you for as long as you need and want to.  You are not alone.

I do feel like taking a swipe at fate and the gods that that did this to you and Lely.

http://anaksihamid.blogspot.my/2013/09/a-special-special-posting-for-lely.html

You are Invictus Irene, always remember that.














Friday, 16 September 2016

For Irene

Enjoy your holiday .....  and the rest of your life.





This time - no words, just a song for days from .....

........  then,

... to today.

Tuesday, 3 June 2014

Keeping up with Comments

I've been having problems with my comments page just like I had a few months ago.  Here are a couple of them - which I could not deal with earlier.



Thank you Anon at 10.53am.  Racial and religious differences will always matter for all of us, not only in Malaysia.  If we look at the example of Northern Ireland  ( a part of the United Kingdom), where there is hardly any difference in colour and culture in the Northern Irish, the religious animosity between the two dominant Christian factions - the Catholics and the Protestants - remains as intransigent as ever, despite the Peace Treaty and the political transformation that followed.

As for racial and religious differences, if we look at what happened in many other countries (South Africa, Sri Lanka and Burma for example) the inherently and historically Malay-Muslim Peninsula has a lot to be proud of.  Despite being flooded with immigrants whose religion and race and culture are as far apart as chalk and cheese, Semenanjung Tanah Melayu has done a commendable job (albeit with a couple of warts) in sustaining  all who live on board, in sharing the country's largesse and even giving room for one immigrant group to maintain and develop their economic prowess and control.  Of course , the less privileged and the poorer denizens have to be given a leg-up, despite the complaints and whingeing of the well-heeled who believe that they got to be where they were and are,  primarily on merit.

The table below illustrates the reduction of the gap between rich and poor which, since Colonial times, has coincided with a racial overlay and an urban/rural divide.


Here's a closeup of the above Table:  Mean Monthly Gross Household Income by Ethnicity, Strata and State, Malaysia, 1970-2012.







In short this Government has done quite well, for a Third World Country - and a Government run by mainly  Malay-Muslims to boot!!



As for your second sentence, I detect a bit of snide and insinuation about referring to West Malaysia as  "The Malay Peninsula".  Whether the Malay Peninsula is now West Malaysia or Peninsular Malaysia or Semenanjung Malaysia - in the language of the Malays from the Malay Archipelago-  before the encroachment of the Portuguese, the Dutch and the British and the unnatural increase of the Semenanjung's population - the Peninsula  consisted of several  Malay-Muslim states:
1. The Kedah Sultanate which included Penang and Seberang Prai  (1136 to the present)
2. The Malacca Sultanate  (1462-1511)
3. The Johor Sultanate which included Singapore  (1528 to the present) ......

...... and the Sultanates of Pahang, Kelantan, Perlis, Perak, Selangor, Negri Sembilan and Trengganu.

As for Borneo, up to the arrival of the Europeans, the two major powers were the Brunei and Sulu Sultanates.  But that's another story of  Judaeo-Christian malfeasance in Southeast Asia.  They did the same when they carved up the African continent among themselves.  The violent mess that plagues the Middle East had its origin in the (secret) 1916 Sykes-Picot Agreement between United Kingdom, France and pre-Revolution Russia to divide the Arab provinces of the defeated Ottoman Empire.

The name of  a  nation can be changed, it can even be anglicized, but the core makeup of its entity remains intact despite attempts by certain parties to rescript its history.

"Those who do not remember the past are condemned to relive it."   (George Santayana 1863-1952)

                                                          ------------------------




Thank you Anon May 21 2014 at 4.05 am.

I don't think the Malay Sultans have the same privileges as royalty elsewhere.  The Crown Prince of the United Kingdom can spout statements about how Muslims are making life difficult for Christians in the Middle East and he can blithely compare Putin to Hitler AND he can get away with it.

Why name only Pertubuhan Melayu Kebangsaan Melayu Bersatu  (I assume you mean UMNO)?  What about PKR and PAS?

As for your suggestion that AsH should write an open letter to the "party president and the Sultan",  it reminded me of  another occasion when my fellow-Malays asked me to be their  'representative'.

In Singapore, in the late 1960s,  the celebration for Hari Raya Puasa depended on the sighting of the moon.  There were times when this did not coincide with the official date for Hari Raya.  When that happened, teachers and students of Sekolah Menengah Yusof Ishak were only allowed time off for prayers and then they had to report for school as usual.  That was when the Malay teachers, mostly men, both senior and junior pushed me forward to ask the principal, Mr Charles Lazaroo to give the Malay medium staff and students time off for the rest of the day after prayers.  I was just in my early 20s and I found no difficulty in chiding them and suggested ,  "Why don't all of us talk to Mr Lazaroo?"  That stopped all the proposals and pleas to place me in the line of fire.

This, I fear is the most destructive weakness of the orang Melayu - they are too self-serving and hence become too divided to take a stand.  They prefer to shine in the light of the opposition groupings by sucking up to them and to contribute to slagging off their fellow Malays  than to take on the taunts and  fire from their own  kin-groups and from their nemesis.

Furthermore, unlike me, your generation has a longer time left on this earth to make the necessary changes and sacrifice to guide the "frustrated and pragmatic Malays"out there - whether at home or abroad.   AsH is getting too old and weary from fighting too many battles for her students - being a minder for the Malay Stream against the English Stream in YISS  and for the English Stream vis-a-vis the Chinese Stream in Jurong Secondary School.

In my seventh decade, I  do not have the energy to pitch any more battles.  All I do is react- to hypocrisy and double standards - to convey a tit-for-tat and  turn myself into ....

Drawn by my Voodoo-man,  Iain Buchanan
  
Let me quote one of  our sharpest and kindest Malay poets and gentlemen, Usman Awang.  Where are the likes of him today??

Extracted from Zaini Hassan, Dilema Melayu Moden  (pages 373-376)
                                                  ----------------------------------------------


Thank you very much cannonkapit for the bouquet.

It's very touching, your belief in what I write.  Cikgu has never left her 'tanah air'  (which includes Singapore and  Malaysia), wherever she settles.  Right now, since 2007, the spouse and I have the best of our two worlds that we hold close to our hearts - Malaysia and  England. 


                                                    --------------------------------


 Thank you Leicester United Fan,

Even though our LFC did not make it big, but as a fan you've done quite well.  I can't agree more with what you've said.  The election results have proven what we all knew all along.  She was used for a patsy by her two Sifus -   the father and the son ... and Diana the Roman goddess of the hunt, the moon and birthing!



Saturday, 13 April 2013

Foot in Mouth Disease

I think Anon ( re: posting April 7, 2013), or should I say, "you of all people" should beware - and be more precise about accusations of   'intellectual dishonesty',  'anti-Chinese bias' and of an educator objecting 'to the acquisition of knowledge'.

Incredibly, you derived all these from the posting of  " A Sighting"!  http://anaksihamid.blogspot.com/2013/03/a-sighting.html .   I shan't insult the intelligence of my other readers by explaining the actual content of that posting.

But in the light of your petulant outburst I do need to demolish your allegations about my blog.  So let's expose your illiteracy, your vacuous interpretation and the insinuating mischief within.

We can start with paragraph two and your opinion of  "the great strides taken by the malay community"  in Singapore.  Clearly you attribute such  great strides to the fact they live under a Chinese-controlled  government in a Chinese majority (75%)  society - whose 'tolerance' and grooming are crucial to the Malays'  progress - a kind of progress as defined by the Singapore government.

Is this your contention?  If it is, it only confirms my view about some people's arrogance......  If it isn't, why make the link with my alleged  "anti-Chinese bias"?

Fourth paragraph:  How condescending of you to affirm that "the treatment muslims receive in singapore/malaysia is far more even-handed compared to what they receive in France/UK ".  If you had said that to a Brit in UK  ( just change the religion and the country)  they would say,  " Why not, it's our bloody country, mate!"  As for your 'aside' in the last paragraph about foreign languages in Britain, it's so laughable that a Brit would justifiably exclaim,  "What a tosser" !

I am bemused at your ignorance and gumption - especially as you present yourself  as some sort of cosmopolitan who had spent a ' substantial  period '  in London.  I recall that nursery rhyme  "Pussy cat, pussy cat where have you been,  I've been to London   to see the Queen".  So where has this pussy cat / tom cat been in London?  The British Museum?  The National Art Gallery?  Harrods?  Marks and Spencers?  Hamleys? Ministry of Sound London? Soho?

Fifth Paragraph:  Excuse me?  What is the connection between my ability to tolerate living in UK and my so-called  feeling of oppression  "by the Chinese in asia"?  Where is the  "intellectual dishonesty"? Are you aware of the correct use of this phrase?

 In the first place I do not merely 'tolerate' living in UK.  It is my husband's country and though it has its warts  ( which I often write about in my postings ), I respect and appreciate its ways and culture without turning into a 'kacang lupakan kulit'  (the pea forgetting its pod)  or a Bounty Bar or a Banana!  Secondly,  in my part of the world, my spouse speaks just enough Malay, Hokkien and Hindi and respects the culture of all people who call themselves Malaysians and Singaporeans.

No one race can make me feel, as you put it, "oppressed".  I take issue with and I write about injustice, mistreatment, prejudice, bigotry, self-righteousness, arrogance and most of all double standards in any society.  Check on the labels on my blog and eat your words!

In Singapore, as a teacher (I don't like the pompous word  'educator'), I had the privilege of teaching in a Malay medium secondary school  (Yusof Ishak Secondary School) and later in an English medium school  (Jurong Secondary School).  Both were "integrated schools".  YISS was "integrated"  ( notice how I use inverted commas for the word  integrated)  with the English medium, JSS with the Chinese medium.  I found myself having to play the role of intermediary between the two opposing mediums and at some and most of the time as a guardian/bouncer for my Malay medium kids in YISS for 10 years and for the English medium kids ( of all races)  in JSS for two years.

The crowning glory of my career in Singapore was when I was shunted side ways to Anglo-Chinese Junior College.
Read my exciting one-month experience in that pukka Missionary Sixth Form College. http://anaksihamid.blogspot.com/2012/04/x-factor.html and   http://anaksihamid.blogspot.com/2012/05/acjc-finale.html

And to add grist to the mill - I spared no effort in challenging the self-satisfied arrogance of  some of my mainly Malay colleagues in USM in the early 1990s.  Their brand of prejudice in tolerating and keeping a white American drunkard while giving a brown-skinned woman the short end of the stick, told me I had better get out of that education business at least!

In fact, I found much more joy and knowledge and meaningful experience working with the English working class in Leicester.  Read:  http://anaksihamid.blogspot.com/2010/11/some-good-people.html

Paragraph Three only displays how wet you are behind the ears or, if you're older than I reckon, how immature and puerile you are despite the age.  Malays, especially, wherever they are in the Malay Archipelago, should learn a third language (other than their mother tongue and English) like Mandarin, Arabic or another European language like  French or Italian.  For instance, Ariff, my great-nephew in a KL secondary school  is studying Mandarin as a third language.  Malays must not be like the frog in that poem "Bangau oh Bangau".  Read   http://anaksihamid.blogspot.com/2013/03/a-digression.html

While Twitter, the internet and blogosphere have widened the net for expression and discussion, at times they have also opened the door for ignorance and cowardice and especially the absence of accountability.  It is like "Kera di beri Bunga"  (giving a flower to a monkey)  or "Casting Pearls before Swine".

Finally here's my "Aside ".  I often refer to the proverb  "What is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander".  At 69, I still have use of what my favourite detective Hercule Poirot described as 'the grey matter', and I can't help but conclude that this Anon is the Gander whose sense of superiority is irked by what he reads in AsH.  So he  fabricates what he reads to brand  AsH as anti-Chinese - a very devious and sly ploy.   Alas, he botched it and has instead been hoisted by his own petard!

Now, that is dishonesty and it carries no whiff of intellectuality!  




   



Tuesday, 10 April 2012

Another Tale or Two.

.........  and to continue where I left off.  I was writing about the nail in the coffin that the Nanyang cabal at Jurong Secondary School had prepared for Miss Hamid.

But first, here are a couple of images from that inglorious era.  JSS had grand plans such as  running seminars during the school holidays to rejuvenate and inspire laid-back and browned-off  members of staff to be better teachers, to turn the school into the A-Team of Education.  That of course assumed that the teachers did not "know better" before this.  At thirty-two, I "knew better" : you can't teach an old dog new tricks.


Oh Yeah?  Tell us something new!

Blah! Blah! Blur! Blah! Blur! Blur .....zzzzzz
Of course every seminar must have a theme.

Towards Change for Betterment
 Remember, this was 1976 - so little old JSS was quite a pioneer in catchy slogans and self-advertisement.  But that "Towards Change for Betterment" was not my idea.   In response to the wishes and objectives of the gaffers the words were chosen by Mr J,  another  English medium teacher who was in JSS way before I turned up.   He was 'appointed' the general factotum for any task requiring the English language - doing tedious and time-consuming tasks that nobody else in the English stream wanted to do - like writing the minutes of every Staff Meeting.   Poor Mr J!  He 'co-operated' with the system because he was given the hope by those in power in JSS that they could help to expedite his application for Singapore citizenship.  Mr J. was from Johor.

By late 1976 and early 1977 I was feeling the strain of being a minority Malay in a minority English medium in an Integrated Chinese-English School  like JSS.  I was getting weary, having constantly to look out for my kids in the English stream, having to negotiate a way out of every nook and cranny of overt and covert discrimination.  This was like a re-run of my years in Yusof Ishak Secondary  School  (1967-1974)  when I played out the role of a 'bouncer' for the Malay medium kids vis-a-vis the English medium.

Sometime in early 1977 I responded to this advertisement  for teachers in Brunei.


I was called for an interview at Shangri-La Hotel on 12 April 1977.   In mid-1977 I was informed that my application was successful.  I got cold feet and tucked that letter away in a file.  They sent me another letter asking for my reply in November ( if my memory served me right).  I kept on thinking of  SLL's - my good friend and confidante - advice:  "Maz, as a Malay graduate, you won't go far in Singapore.  Your future would be better if you were just a factory worker.   If I were you I'd leave for Malaysia."

Well, as usual, circumstances and fate (?) helped me to make the right move.  Just a few days before January 2 1978, the beginning of the new academic year at JSS, I received a letter from the MOE (Ministry of Education) stating  that I had been transferred to ACJC (Anglo-Chinese Junior College).   I knew something sinister was afoot.   It was a plan that the Nanyang Mafia had drawn up to get rid of the craw in their throats.

In the first place, such transfers were usually given out weeks before the beginning of the new term.   This was like the rabbit that the Nanyang Mafia had pulled out of their hat.  Secondly, as a teacher in a Christian Missionary Sixth Form College, albeit one of Singapore's pukka schools, my future was doomed.  Moving you sideways meant that your upward mobility was extinguished.

I was told that during the first School Assembly at JSS,  no mention was made of the whereabouts of Miss Hamid, one of the school's Senior Teachers.  Usually the Principal would announce the arrival of new teachers and thank those who have been transferred.  I was quite simply airbrushed out of the picture.  I would  whenever possible, make several visits to the school to meet up with my former colleagues.  At times I would 'bump' into the Nanyang Mafia and their cronies on the school premises but they very quickly slunk away for an escape hole when they see me about.  I do enjoy re-visiting my /their sins!!


I dutifully reported for work at ACJC on 2 January 1978.  The day before, on 1 January I handed in my one month's notice of resignation to the MOE.  On that same day I wrote a letter of acceptance to the post of Education Officer in the Government of Brunei's Department of Education.

That transfer would be the biggest favour that the MOE of Singapore had given to me.

Syukur Alhamdulillah.

To be continued .......

Monday, 2 April 2012

A Tale or Two

In the light of the recent brouhaha about the "Christian threat" Seminar in Johor,  I recall some instances of my encounters with Christians and Christianity.

Like the merchant houses and various types of carpet baggers,  missionaries and Christianity came to our part of the world on the coat-tails of  Portuguese, Dutch and British invasions and imperialism.  One very potent vehicle for lubricating the colonial system and for conversion of the natives was the setting up of schools - for both boys and girls.  The missionaries undoubtedly contributed a great service to education in the far corners of the British Empire but it was a very successful enterprise which brought in bountiful dividends, both  financially and spiritually.

One very, very successful story is that of the Anglo-Chinese School in Singapore.  It could even be regarded as the Eton of Singapore.

I can claim  two very peculiar  flings in my education in Singapore.    The first - which also marked the beginning of my education -  was my one-day sojourn at Pasir Panjang Malay School - that beautiful school by the sea at 6 milestone Pasir Panjang Road.  The last was at Anglo-Chinese Junior College, better known as ACJC.  That was just for one month, for January 1978.  That year also marked my final break from teaching in Singapore and the beginning of a new, wonderfully weird and wandering life.  Like my ancient ancestors who were maritime nomads, I became a terrestial one.

The background goes like this.  When I came back from my study leave at London University in 1975, I was posted to what the likes of the wealthy well-scrubbed boys in ACS would describe as a sink school.  Jurong Secondary School was initially a Chinese medium school tucked away in the 'jungle' of Jurong.  It expanded when Jurong became the hub of Singapore's industrial revolution.  It had to take in the English medium teachers and students but the reins of 'power' were held - or should I say, monopolised - by the Chinese stream Nanyang University graduates.  After a year spent in JSS, I dubbed them the Nanyang Mafia and sometimes the "Gang of Four" (as in Chairman Mao's PRC at that time).

The English stream students were treated like second class citizens.  They were constantly picked upon by the Disciplinary Teachers, mainly  Nanyangians.  Those from the Chinese stream were treated with kid gloves. 

My best friend  KT  was a brilliant English Literature teacher but she was relegated to teaching English as a Second Language in the Chinese Stream.  As she was not a Graduate she had to give way to someone who was .  KT and I will never forget this Graduate's excuse for not wanting to teach Shakespeare's  "As You Like It".  She did not study that particular play while she was in University!!!!  Do they still make graduate teachers like that today?

So  KT went to her first ESL lesson in  Secondary Two  Chinese Stream .  When she greeted them with the usual "Good Morning Class" , they responded with grumpy mutterings - almost hostile.  Then one of  the girls 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, a series of louvred windows as KT walked past every classroom on that floor.  She was assailed by the sound of snap, snap, snap from the louvres of each window frame 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 to the Teachers' Common Room, she broke down.   How cruel, these snaps of bigotry from such young souls.  All said and done, the Principal attempted 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 their  "Sen Sen".

Hats off to you Malaysia - in making Malay the National Language and the medium of education.   Fifty-five years on and I can still hear those snapping louvres!!

By my second year in JSS, I was promoted to  Senior Teacher for the English Stream.  I made it my duty to 'correct various anomalies' in the administration of the school.  For instance, the winners of the oratorical and story writing competition were usually given prizes of Mandarin Dictionaries.  I put a stop to that practice.

There was "a problem", they said, of getting the right prizes.  I offered to get it done, to select the most suitable English  language books for each  level .    That would be too costly, they said.   I asked them how much they allocated for the Chinese stream.  On that basis, I had no problem getting the kids the right books.  It took me several  trips from Jurong in the west to MPH and other bookstores in the  city centre, but they loved what they got.  That did not win me any hearts from the Nanyang Mafia.

When the school was organising a trip to West Malaysia for the students who had done well,  I stood my ground and made sure the English stream students were duly represented.  And on the first lunch break of that 'holiday' in Malacca, I blew my top when the non-Chinese students were told to have their meal in a Chinese restaurant with the rest of the entourage. The Organising Committee lumped everybody's diet to be the same as theirs.  I remembered one statement I made which made them turn purple with fury.  "Is it that difficult to get Muslim and non-Chinese food for us in West Malaysia?  This country has more Malays and Muslims than Singapore!"   So I bundled my non-Chinese ( not just Muslim) students off to a suitable place to eat. And  I did that for every meal at every stop.  The expense came from my own pocket.  The Committee expressed no sympathy or culpability.  I made no claim because it was all too dingy and sickening.

I reckon that was the last nail for the coffin the Nanyang Mafia had prepared for me, for Miss Hamid.  As a Senior Teacher, my next step was to move up - to a Principalship.  I had all the qualifications, the experience and my CV was immaculate.  But they had other plans.

The link with Christians and Christianity?  Wait for the next instalment.




Tuesday, 2 November 2010

Mohd Amin - Gone too Soon

They say the greatest pain for  parents is when they survive their child.

Teachers feel the same when they have to say a final farewell to their younger former charges.

Din informed me that Amin passed away this Tuesday morning.  He was only 49.

I can see him in his seat, 4th from the front I think , in the  row by the windows when he was in Sec. 3F (1976), Jurong Secondary School.

I can visualize him standing up to the Disciplinary Teacher, Mr Johnny Lau, to ask that the boys should be allowed to wear trousers instead of shorts.  When he was asked for the reason why, he stood up and pointed to his legs which were abundantly covered with hair!

Dear Amin - may Allah bless your soul and I pray that you will find peace in Allah's presence.  May your parents find peace too.

We shall never forget you - our unpredictably cheeky Amin.


AL-FATIHAH

Wednesday, 28 July 2010

The Sunshine of Their Smiles.



The 'kids' from Jurong Secondary School (1977) held their Reunion at our abode from July 23-25 - and this lovely photograph of them taken by my brother Mus aka sunnysideup says everything I want to say about those three days.

Amongst them are two Chinese, two Indians, one Peranakan and two Malays. It is vital that I state their racial background because their close friendship which they nurtured for over 30 years since they left school bears testimony to what Singaporeans and Malaysians should be and can be.

I have decided to keep this happy picture on my side-bar, to remind me that some thirty plus years ago I managed to do something right.

The complete gory details of that Reunion will come later.

Shyama, I hope you are now safely ensconced in Jakarta.

Roy (Raden Rohaya), have a safe journey back to Perth and your kids on Monday.

As for the Singapore lasses: Irene, Lely, Oi Bek and Ruqxana, keep on swinging.

Din will have to polish up his act before Ben comes along to challenge his thorny status amongst the roses.

Saturday, 17 July 2010

BEN

Most news of Ben has come from Din, his mate from JSS days.

Although he had, at times, communicated with the rest of the gang via their facebooks, text messages and in my blog they were only little 'peeps and winks' (his words), rather like the elusive leprechaun.

The Girls and his mate tried to get him to come for the Reunion next week-end but they now know Ben will not be able to grace and disgrace the get-together.

He had always been a cheeky sod from his schooldays. Very often he managed to make a quick getaway and fell on both feet. Call it the luck of the Baba leprechaun. But he is not as agile as he used to be. Life does that to you, Ben.

We shall miss the presence of this Baba Jendol.

This posting is to give you a message from Din, Irene, Lely, Oi Bek and Teech in three languages, that we shall make sure that one day soon, you will come back to KL, if only for a night.

That the Rainbow Band are standing by.

And regret nothing.

But not absolutely because like a ripple, our actions and inactions touch many other lives. And some of them are innocent.

Tuesday, 15 June 2010

SPILLING THE BEANS - by the Stinging Detective

It was a dismal, torpid Sunday. This detective wanted (not needed) sustenance and wanted it fast. Out of sheer boredom she switched on the e-mail expecting the usual bills and court orders. But there was something special from Canary, a connection from way back. She had just obtained a photograph from Karang Guni King Kumar (5th from right in the photograph), an ex-student from Jurong Secondary School.

I saw my chance to make a deal because there was a big fish in this photograph, someone I could squeeze for profit. So a few days ago, I dropped him a line and gave him an ultimatum - pay up 5,723 thosais ( complete with dhal and chutney), or 579 cheesecakes from that good-looking broad, Ruqxana, from Cookery Magic. The fish refused to bite so ... I shall make him eat dirt because here's that incriminating photograph hee, hee, hee. It's a laugh-a-minute!!!!

Now put on your shades because this closeup will be a real eye-sore.

Well, now that the Agency's bearded factotum has finally got me my strong, hot black coffee, I can begin to expose the shady goings-on in Jurong Secondary School during the mid 1970s.

So, to begin at the beginning. There was this shaggy bunch of wannabe dropouts - a mixed bag of rainbow colours and cultural affiliations. Those last two words, of course, would be gobbledygook for this Gang in those days. They were used to earthy words like Mamak (for Indian), Malaikwai or Melayu Blachan (for Malays) and China Bukit or Sepit (for the Chinese and Peranakan).

This Gang had no name and no leader because they were all bloody-minded about their independence and the integrity of their pet schemes - like escaping to the roti canai stall at Jurong Market during Art Class. They had no written Constitution because they were always changing the rules and moving the goalpost to suit their purposes. But they were avowed to just one cause - to buck the school's system, whenever and where ever they could - because for five hours a day they had to contend with a regime of narrow-minded, despotic school administrators, nicknamed the Nanyang (University graduates) Mafia.

The Big Fish I was trying to hook was Samseng A, as seen above. Do not be fooled by that cute well-scrubbed look, like butter won't melt in his mouth. As for those white socks, what you see is only the tip of the iceberg. The rest is just spotty black and quite horrendous and that goes for the rest of The Gang.

JSS imposed short pants for all the boys including the Seniors. For the latter, that was really unacceptable because long pants were the symbol of manhood for these teenagers running high on their testosterone. Samseng A (SA) decided to test/mock the rules by wearing a pair of trousers that looked like it could not make up its mind - to be a pair of regulation shorts or long shorts? What the regime did to him is best kept a secret.

Just to the left of SA was the other dominant male of this Gang - Big Bad Ben. They called him The Hitman though sometimes it was Hit-and-Miss. One reason for this monicker was whenever he opened his mouth to sing "And I have to say I love you in a Song" to his secret paramour in The Gang he got pelted with banana skins and a barrage of @&*+"%#. But despite his heartache he managed to devise many devilish schemes to cause chaos and havoc to The System. Looking back, if he had only grown up in a society that engages and develops a student's imaginative and creative talents, he would be a writer today, and a fine sensitive writer too.

Every authoritative body, even such a nefarious Gang, needs someone to fiddle the books. For this, there was Yuwrajh(7th from right) - because he was the only one in The Gang that could add up to 10 on his fingers. All the rest of them were called "platypus" (a mammal that lays eggs), by their mathematics teacher because they never fail to score a zero in their mathematics examination. Samseng Y was such a rotten accountant that he always ended up being owed money by the rest of his mob. This nice financial wizard had one flaw however. He couldn't spell for nuts. He was mercilessly taunted for sentences like "The sun sat in the west" and "She wore a beautiful diamond neckless" . So he ran away to London where he is happy because, over there, there are lots and lots of Brits who cannot spell either.

Then there was Rojiah the Dodger(3rd from right), like Roger the Dodger in The Beano. She was their Getaway Gal. She was good at getting them out of tight spots because she was also the School's Head Prefect.

And here's my source - the one they called the Canary. This doll-like creature was the Gangster's Moll, caught in the eternal love triangle with SA and The Hit Man. It was like a choice between a rock and a hard place. Wisely, she found her own comfort zone away from those two brooding Jurong Romeos. She still plays a mean guitar, and there are rumours about a secret song she used to sing for SA only.

There are two other members who are not in this picture - they were mainly part-time Gangsta Gals because they suffered very strict curfew hours. One of them was Lely - or the LadyBird or the SS. SS is not the Secret Service but the Shxx Stirrer who specialized in knocking the System. Her main coup was in noticing the love bites on a certain young teacher's neck and for once this teacher managed to retain the class's attention.

The other was the Omnipotent Oi Bek - the Serious One - who made sure The Gang left no traces of their presence. She also saw to their insurance cover.

The Gang's Nemesis was of course the Nanyang Mafia running the school - led by Johnny Louse and Two Pee Sang (The names have been changed to protect their identity.) Partly, it was all a matter of those long trousers. Remember, all boys - including seniors - HAD to wear shorts - so that the school could let it be known just who was in charge.....or just who wore the pants!

Now, it was bad enough that Samseng A already towered over them when he was 15. And as for the others, by the time they were 16-17 about 80% of the boys would be taller or as tall as the Nanyang Mafia.

But my concern here is Samseng A, the truculent one who was reckless enough to gamble his present and future standing. This daring sleuth can now reveal that(even in those early days) Samseng A was a shadowy man, there was something of the night about him. He was, like the bats and foxes and Vampires and Draculas, a nocturnal animal. He was almost always semi-comatose during the day and only came alive after dusk. Some girls believed his dozey eyes were a sign of a simmering sizzler - a PHWOAR! But, really, he was just sleepy!

He puts on this air of somnolent nonchalance to disarm his opponents. But those eyes were saying, "Just you dare cross the line." What you see is not what you get!! He was not known as "The Samseng with Velvet Gloves" for nothing.

And so ... ?

Well, for a Malay kid who grew up in Kampung Jubilee, off West Coast Road, Singapore - and who is not a product of pukka schools like Raffles Institution or Anglo-Chinese School - this SA, this lad - has gone far. But no matter how high and how far he has been, he does not forget his old friends or where he comes from.

They call him "Rocky" in Malaysia. He's a somebody in Malaysian journalism. He has always been his own man - ever since he stood up for himself when the Disciplinary teachers of Jurong Secondary School wrongfully entered his family flat and ransacked his room to look for 'stolen' artworks.

But he's still "Din" to his old teacher. And I can still cuff him about the ears if he crosses the line. Basically, though, he's a good lad.

Post Script: The most recent photo of SA with Canary on the left and LadyBird on the right.

Thursday, 22 April 2010

The Lovers, Dreamers and Ben

A Reply to Singaporean-in-Exile aka Nowhere Man aka Baba Ben

Of course you are never forgotten by your mates from 30 years ago.

Firstly you need to sort out the hole in your head, "to stop your mind from wandering".
"Where I belong I'm right where I belong".

So wander on when you can to visit your Rainbow Connection or the JSS Lovers and Dreamers. But don't wait till you're 64 as you threatened to do. By that time I will be pushing up daisies and as 'bibik' said, "you dah tak handsome lagi" like this. Also Oi Bek expects you to keep on crooning.

Furthermore, remember this is one of AsH's many talents.

Be afraid, be very, very afraid.

Tuesday, 20 April 2010

Just Like Yesterday

Please click on the arrow on this home-made video.
After a somewhat long hiatus we caught up with Irene again, with the help of Oi Bek and Lely.
Like the rest of that uniquely cheeky and harmonious bunch of students from Jurong Secondary School Sec. 4F 1977, Irene
means a lot to me. We all go back a long, long way and though our lives have been filled with joy and pain we try to maintain that quintessential core of our friendship - love and loyalty.

It had been a weekend of eating,
walking in the park,
relaxing,
and meeting new friends like Comot.
Best of all, Irene met up once again with someone she had not seen for 33 years.

Thank you girls and Din. It was just like yesterday.

Monday, 16 November 2009

By Desperate Request of Pickled Herring and Helas

Tapestry of Sunnysideup's Past


Brother-in-Arms
Cisco Kid and Durango Kid (note the side-parting) in the Botanical Garden's desert.
Minus Side - Parting

Father and Daughter

To be fair- here's something else!

Pickled Herring and a well-known (notorious?) media man

Tuas Beach and my former Jurong Secondary School's inmates before modernisation and progress stepped in.
They are Ben, Yuwrajh, Rojiah (in the background) and Pickled Herring (in the foreground)