Malaysian Dad, American Dad

I must say that I have - yet again - enjoyed Petronas' Hari Raya drama-advert.

I do wonder sometimes what they would come up next. It seems to me, year after year, Petronas keep on churning out poignant drama-advert. Would it dry up soon? Certainly not Petronas' money - not any time soon, I hope not, with the crude oil price hovering near the US$100 mark. But it is the creative idea, and the presentation, that matter here and I hope it won't dry up anytime soon.

You see, my sis was wondering about bapak's reaction, when we - the elder siblings - questioned him about the 'new' car he brought home one day in the 60s. To be honest, I remember that day quite well. I remember dad taking us for a spin, with us questioning him about the newness of the car to him, when we were told by his friend who was there with us at that time that "we must be excited about the new car!"

I do not, however, remember his response. May be he just smiled away, may be he tried to explain it to us. I don't know. To me it doesn't matter now, and I am sure it didn't matter then.

We were then, I guess, his adorable little kids (hahaha...yeah yeah I know) and the apples of his eyes and nothing that we say or do then would make him feel down.

It takes a lot more than that to get him upset or make him feel down.

Just like the Burung Murai dad. His kid was perhaps bored; perhaps playing the fools, who knows? But he - the dad - would answer it lovingly and without a hint of boredom.

While I applaud Burung Murai dad for his calmness and self control in answering the son's continual bombardment of the same question, here is where I believe our belief and education methodology are below par compared to other cultures.

I remember reading a book on Dr Richard Feynman, the Nobel prize winner for Physics. For the uninitiated, he assisted in the development of the atomic bomb and was in the panel who investigated in the space shuttle Challenger disaster. He is perhaps one of the most famous scientist and I believe one of the most brilliant.

But that's not the reason why I brought his name up. I read one of his book, the semi autobiographical "Surely you're joking, Mr Feynman - Adventures of a Curious Character" and was taken by his description on how his dad taught him true meaning of knowledge, and the way we should be seeking knowledge.

Apparently like most true blue Americans, Feynman Sr loved the outdoor and so he used to take Richard around in the countryside, especially for bird watching. Richard of course, like the burung Murai kid, would ask his dad about the various birds that they were watching.

Richard: "Burung apa tu, Abah?"
Malaysian dad: "Burung Murai tu 'nak."
Richard: "Burung apa?"
Malaysian dad: "Burung Murai tu 'nak."
Richard: "Burung apa?"
Malaysian dad: "Burung Murai tu 'nak."
.....and so on and so forth.

But Feynman Sr is not Malaysian. So unlike burung Murai dad and other Malaysian dads, Feynman Sr would not simply answer that question for Richard. Before you start pointing out how great our traditional Malay cultures and values vis-a-vis Feynman Sr's American Jewish education philosophy (if I may describe it that way), let me tell you that Feynman Sr would instead tell his son on the detail characteristic of each bird, their habitats, the eating habits, and various other information that would characterize each bird specie.

Here is how I envisage the conversation between Richard Feynman and his dad.

Richard: "Burung apa tu, Abah?"
American dad: "There are as many as 20 species of this bird."
Richard: "Burung apa?"
American dad: "Do you know that the heart of this bird is very similar to human's heart? It has four compartments."
Richard: "Burung apa?"
American dad: "The specie is bit shy but is very protective of its territory. Every season it will lay about 2-3 eggs ; its voice is very pleasing to the ears."

...then after the umpteenth times; after American dad had exhausted all his knowledge on the bird...

Richard: "Burung apa?"
American dad: It is the Murai, son. The main types are called burung murai batu, murai hitam, murai Kampung, Murai Everett etc. But funnily the Malays in Asia would call someone who talk too much as "mulut murai" or "Murai mouth."

Richard: "Terernya abah!"

Feynman Sr: "It is not difficult, dude. You can find all these in the Wikipedia!"

(Obviously the detail of the conversation is the figment of my imagination, but I guess the philosophy is not. And from the above conversation, it is more logical for Richard to be asking the same question over and over again!)

In his book, Dr Feynman describes in reasonable detail how his dad would describe each specie to him.

"This is how I learned," concluded Dr Feynman in his book," not by knowing the names of the birds, but their characteristics!"

We tend to teach our kids the opposite way. This is a cat; that is burung Murai; or Itu gajah, but we could not tell our children what constitute a cat, a burung Murai or an elephant. In the end, our kids knew the name of bird, but nothing else. We should not only be able to tell our kids the different car model, but how it works - the engine, the gearbox etc, and the different characteristics between each model. It should be easy nowadays.

Advancement in science is not made on knowing the name of the specie, but its characteristics.

Feynman went on to become one of the greatest mind in physics; his sister is also a professional physicist. His dad (parents) must have done something right; something we ought to emulate.

And that's how, I believe, America become a great superpower, while we are still a third world country; and that's why, in an earlier entry, I thought so highly of the American Education philosophy. We are still a long way to go to achieve what they had achieved. Not until we change our attitude towards education.

Every single one of us.

EPILOGUE
Read about Dr Richard Feynman here. If you have the opportunity to read his book, do so by all means. I do wish I had 'known' him much earlier. He is an amazing character; Dr Feynman is. I am all in awe of him.

His philosphy is that if you can't explain, to a general audience/laymen or freshmen, the complex theory of physics, then it is not fully understood yet. So I believe his books and lectures are all readable by us. Much like what Stephen Hawking had done - another brilliant physicist & mathematician.

This is one scientist who would dare pointing out to Niels Bohr his flawed thinking!

The book should give some hints how his dad Melville developed his curiosity.

FRom Wikipedia: The young Feynman was heavily influenced by his father, Melville, who encouraged him to ask questions to challenge orthodox thinking.

Again here: His habit of direct characterization would sometimes disconcert more conventional thinkers; for example, one of his questions when learning feline anatomy was: "Do you have a map of the cat?" (referring to an anatomical chart).

BTW his exploits during the press conference of the Challenger accident task force was legendary. You should read about this.

I also love this quote attributed to Dr Feynman. He is witty - a trait he got from his mum, yet insightful, but certainly not blasphemous:

"God was invented to explain mystery. God is always invented to explain those things that you do not understand. Now, when you finally discover how something works, you get some laws which you're taking away from God; you don't need him anymore. But you need him for the other mysteries. So therefore you leave him to create the universe because we haven't figured that out yet; you need him for understanding those things which you don't believe the laws will explain, such as consciousness, or why you only live to a certain length of time--life and death -- stuff like that. God is always associated with those things that you do not understand. Therefore I don't think that the laws can be considered to be like God because they have been figured out." — Feynman Online Quotes

Tags: education Edit Tags
Tuesday November 6, 2007 - 09:46pm (SGT) Edit Delete

Menjelang Syawal ’07 – The Ketupat & Dodol Story

Menjelang Syawal ’07 – The Ketupat & Dodol Story

Hey you, just in case you have not noticed, or that you have not been keeping count, or that may be you have just came back from a hiatus at Gunung Ledang or some deserted island in the middle of the Pacific, we are on the last leg of Ramadhan - less than a week away from the most celebrated day in Malaysia - Hari Raya Aidilfitri or the end of Ramadhan celebration. I guess that gives us the permission to start thinking about the auspicious day just ahead of us. Yay!!

To me, Hari Raya would almost always be associated with ketupat, never mind that in KL you could find it all year round. It is the symbol of Hari Raya. You will see it everywhere, especially in decorating the streets of Kuala Lumpur. To me, it is the main dish for Hari Raya. I would hit the ketupat (nasi) and kuah kacang right after solat raya - like man possessed, and all day long for sure. Kuah kacang raya to me is one that contains some mince meat, just to differentiate it from the the kuah kacang we can normally get with our satay kajang, all year round.

(Pic taken by zali, I think)

I love the ketupat, but to be honest, I don't know how to weave the palm leaves to make the pouch and I am too old to learn now...hahahaha. So I would only buy ready-made ones. Of course someone in the family would be able to do it, so I would leave it to them to do the needful.

I would not mind not having anything else for Raya, but I have to have my ketupat! And it is easy to make after someone had woven the palm leaves of course lah - just boil them for few hours. You would not even be there. But be careful not to overfill the ketupat pouch - it will be 'hard' when it is cooked. Tak sedap. Too little, and it will be too soft. But put the right amount of rice (3/4th or was it 2/3rd?) and it will be just nice! As the rice cooks, the grains begin to expand to fill the pouch and the rice becomes compressed. This gives the ketupat its characteristics and texture. Tender but firm; that's how I like my ketupat.

But don't give me ketupat daun palas and the likes lah. I don’t fancy them at all. That is the northern states of Kedah and Perlis’ version. I guess they are steamed instead, and use glutinous rice. I tell you bro, palas is no fun to eat one. Since this is made of pulut, it is more like lemang and too glutinous for my liking. But this to me is a poor man's lemang or rather lazy people's lemang! Jangan mare, Kedahan. Betui per. How else would you describe it?

I would like to story mory about lemang, but nantilah dulu - next one kut.

Give me ketupat (nasi) anytime, or give me no ketupat at all. Ntah la, tak penah minat that triangular ketupat daun palas. May be the slightly odd shaped ketupat (nasi) is more appealing to my eyes and hence my palate.

Anyway, here is a pantun ketupat.

Nyiur gading puncak mahligai
Sayang ketupat berisi inti
Hancur daging tulang berkecai
Belum dapat belum berhenti

I have not seen nor eaten ketupat with an inti, have you?

Dodol is another Raya dish though it is peculiar to the southern side of the peninsular. The Minangs, Malaccans and Johoreans (Jawa la kut) would go by this dish for Raya. Not for the people in Kelantan & Terengganu, or so I am told. They don't cook dodol for Raya.

Caption: The house where nenek would cook dodol.

I remember when I was kid in Aulong in the early 70s, nenek would have to have dodol forRaya without fail, even if she had to cook it herself. I would guess that as a Minang, dodol is quite significant to her - much as I consider that it is not Raya without ketupat! And since we live on the other side of Aulong – all within cycling distance, we would help her whenever we can.

Now if you know my nenek - she was a very petite lady and quite thin to be honest, but frail she was not, and if you know how difficult it is to cook dodol, you would think it is close to impossible for this Minang lady from Kampung Haraban in Bukittinggi in Sumatra Barat to do it on her own.

But I guess even with many of her grandchildren around, and some reasonably big enough to play rugby in primary school (ehem ehem), towards the end of the cooking process, when the dodol had become so sticky and viscous that it is no longer Newtonian fluid, she would be the one ‘stirring’ the dodol. In other words, she would be the last 'man' standing! So much for the hype that men are supposed to be stronger.

Overview of the making of dodol at my cousin Baharum's house in Kemunting on Nov 1, 2005. That's mum supervising the whole operation. The kawah was kepunyaan turun temurun. Not many inlaws, or even real sibling would want to handle the work requirement of dodol making.

A couple of years ago (Nov 2005 to be exact), the Hariris decided to cook our own dodol. The kawah besar that nenek used to use for cooking is now Mak’s, and she knew the recipe and the trick and tips well enough for us to have a go.

So we went to a cousin’s house in Kemunting, since his house is more suitable than ours for a day's worth of cooking. It has a compound and a shed; which is very important should it rain, and Taiping is of course known for its rain. Furthermore he has access to matured coconuts easily.

So with the proper ingredients (something like 5 coconuts for each kg of rice flour, may be, you need tons of coconut milk), gula kabong etc, we light up the fire at around 11 am in the morning. It was easy in the beginning. Even Arif who is not known to be masculine chipped in in the beginning.

The idea is to stir it (kacau) continuously over small fire to ensure that the mixture will not get burned in the kawah. If it did, you can practically throw away the whole thing - it is not nice to eat dodol with a hint of even a slight charred dodol.

.....and the mixture thickens. It is from here you need all the muscles you can muster. You can see mum trying the control the fire, as we need to slow cook dodol mixture, or it will burn and you have dodol with a stinging burning smell.

Tak sedap.

Caption: One hand demo on how to kacau dodol.

However, after more than 2 hours, the mixture started to thicken, changing its characteristic from Newtonian fluid to non-Newtonian fluid (read this only if you are a chemical or mechanical engineer). Then the energy and strength required to stir the mixture would be exponential. At this stage, the dodol fluid exhibited quite a character with big bubbles trying to push through from the bottom of the kawah. It looks like you have a volcano crater. Interesting behaviour - I guess the Minangs of the old days were trying to imitate the volcanic activities within the environment in Sumatra Barat to their kitchens! By 3 pm, it has thickened considerably and by then you wish you had not been so stupid to embark on the dodol project.

People started leaving the kawah as the mixture thickens. The energy and effort required would be exponential at this stage and it is best that you don't stick around! Find a reason for you to have to leave like taking pictures, and then slowly move away from the fire! ;-) My sis Farah, and my niece are in the background, starting to disappear, I guess. Eh, Azhar, kome pun nak cabut ke tu? hahahaha..I am glad this bro in law of mine was around.

“Why did we bother?” I asked mum, “Wouldn’t it be much easier just to purchase our own dodol?” Mak did not answer – to her that question need not be answered. Remember the response from Sir Edmund Hillary when people asked him why he had to climb Everest? Because it is there!

Dad and son at the helm, having fun in the shade. You can see the bubble forming in the right pic. Eh Mai, asyik dok tengok je, when are you going to help with the chore? Oh and Azhar did come back to help. I told you I can rely on him. This dodol was cooked with lots of love, and lots of sweat! Tu yang sedap giler tu. Haha puji sendiri!

By the time we finished (when the dodol was in semi-solid form), it was about 5 pm. We had been cooking by the fire for a grueling 6 hours. We were totally exhausted.

For the next 15 minutes after the completion, I was the horizontal man. I could not even move. I don’t quite feel I have a limb anymore.

When I looked back at what we did that year, it reminds me so much of nenek, who looked so frail but has the strength of two men, easily. I would not do it yearly for sure. I don’t have her strength and her will power. Inilah anak lepas merdeka .

In hindsight though, it was a fun family affair, especially when everybody chipped in. It brought the family together for the occasion.

But I am sure I did not feel that way that day.

In conclusion, should you have a craving for a good dodol in the future, but baulk at the idea of paying top ringgit for it, trust me, it is not, and it is worth every single sen of your hard-earned ringgit. It is not like making teh tarik or cooking rice. A whole team’s effort is required to make top notch chewable and sticky, but tasty dodol. And it is hard work.

So what about you? What are you favourite Hari Raya dishes?

PS A good dodol should not be sticky to your finger, or the plate actually. If it does, then it means that it has not been cooked properly. It should not be too sweet and you would also taste the creamy side of sweetness.

Epilogue

Chemical Engineering 101

A Newtonian fluid (named for Isaac Newton) is a fluid that flows like water—its stress versus rate ofstrain curve is linear and passes through the origin. The constant of proportionality is known as the viscosity.

A non-Newtonian fluid is a fluid in which the viscosity changes with the applied strain rate. As a result, non-Newtonian fluids may not have a well-defined viscosity. An inexpensive, non-toxic sample of a non-Newtonian fluid sometimes known as oobleck can be made very easily by adding corn starch(cornflour) to a cup of water.

NI termasuk dodol lah ni....

There you go - our tok nenek dedulu were competent chemical engineers. They produced fanciful edible solids that were converted from newtoniann fluid to non-newtonian ones, which to my mind is one of the more difficult branch chemical engineering - fluid dynamics. As noted by a friend at Petronas, sure die one sebab nama pun 'die'namics! Funny guy. Honestly I can't still comprehend many of its behaviours.

Puasa doloe doloe - Ramadhan '79 @ MRSM KB

I don't remember all the details. Thirty years had since passed - so much water had flown under the bridge, so to speak. At that time, our time is perhaps 30 mins earlier than they are now, so I presume waktu imsak is at around 5 pm. If I am not mistaken, at around 3 pm, thedewan makan folks would come to the hostel to wake us up.

With a bell!

"Sahur, sahur," they would call out aloud, of course while ringing the bell. Kleng kleng, kleng kleng. "Bising ler," many would be cursing back, especially those sleeping near the windows facing the corridor, "oghe nok tido pun tak sene."

Obviously many of would be just too lazy to go to the dewan makan. You cannot just jump out of bed and head to the hall. At the very least, you would have to wash you face and comb your hair properly. If you have proper etiquette, you would be brushing your teeth first. With your hair in a mess, I would not go. The gals would be even worse. At 3 am, you would want to still look 'come'. It's not so bad on the boys - many would be stone-faced, irrespective of their appearance, I guess.

But what can you do? Many a times, there would not be water running down the tap. You want to wash your face dengan tayammum?

The dishes at the dewan makan was nothing to shout about, obviously. Nasik kawah, after all, what do you expect? Hence, many of us were not too bothered to have sahur. Funnily,lauk gulai kawah is now back in popularity. I guess many of us, having reached the pinnacle of our lives, are longing for the good old days, which unfortunately included the bad foods.

We have short memories, so we were told by none other than our former PM himself.

But the kawah at the kitchen is bigger than those at the restaurant and of course did not use woods anymore.

In order to ensure many would come and eat the lousy food they cook, the dewan makanfolks would come up with a new marketing strategy. They were quite good actually; I am sure many would have passed their MBA, if they were to take classes. They would go to the gals' dorms, with the bells in their hands - kleng kleng, kleng kleng.

"Sahur, sahur," the makcik dewan makan would shout, "ayam goreng, aye goreng." They were announcing to the gals that the dish that morning would be fried chicken.

Upon hearing that, the gals would leap out of their beds. It was not every day we would able to have fried chicken. The dewan makan folks would rotate the menu obviously, and unlike today, sea food, especially fish, would normally be the order of the day. Ayam goreng would be for special days. Ikan jeket besi would be typical.

Many would not be edible, at least not to our taste.

But fried chicken is fried chicken, even though the dewan makan's version is no KFC. Hence it was easy to please kids who have no recollection of the taste of KFC then. And that morning, we were going to get fried chicken, and for that, it was worth going for sahur.

So we would all wake up, while the gals would put talcum on their face, and some makeups - to make themselves presentable, and with a glint in their eyes, headed to dewan makan, everybody with a mug in their hands.

Ayam goreng, aku nak makan ayam goreng - that would be in their minds as they walked passed each other like zombies. They may walk like zombies, but at 3 am, many would make pretty zombies, ;-) if you know what I mean.

Alas, we would all be disappointed. We were all tricked by the marketing gimmick of the dewan makan folks. Instead of ayam goreng, it would just be ikan Uji Rashid or ikan jeket besi. Obviously I was a fan of her, but definitely not a fan of the fish version. But since you are there already - you had taken the effort to wake up and do the needful to be at the dewan makan, you had no choice but to eat them.

Genius.

I think the dewan makan folks have their own KPIs then. And their KPI would be to get us to finish those lousy foods.

But that's not my story. I would not have remembered such detail. That came from Shema, circa 2003 that I still remember. I thought it was funny. In fact it was funnier in words, and in first person, than in cold, static written words, as they were written here. Pity them nonetheless, tricked by the dewan makan folks. I don't think that was an issue for me. Syed Aboo would be waking us up reasonably late - no chance for a lengthy sleep and most likely, we would leave it quite late too. Like 4.30 am or something, so that we would not go back to sleep.

That's not it, as far as her story goes. According to her, those too lazy to wake up and go todewan makan, would - before they go to sleep - immerse/soak their instant noodle in hot water, so that at sahur time, they would be able to just eat it without having to wait.

And then would hit the bed again.

Like a sleeping beauty. Amboi.

Some would even just eat crackers for sahur, by soaking them in the maggie mee. I have no idea about this. I guess the gals' recipe did not make it to the boys dorm. Yalah, there was no hp or sms then. They would do anything to lengthen their sleeping hours.

Janji puasa.

But the best of times would be during the breaking of fast. We were allowed to go out to buy food and kuih to supplement our buka foods. Most likely we would head to the warung near the PPH (pasukan polis hutan) Pengkalan Chepa in front of our school. We are obviously talking about Kelantan here and Kelantan is known for her sweet tidbits, not unlike the Kelantan gals of course.

Unlike at the pasar ramadhan in KL, all you can get there is murtabak, murtabak and moremurtabak. Or otherwise it would be ayam percik, as if that there were no other foods and dishes. The murtabak would be paper thin, thinner than your 60g photostat paper. If it is as thick as the The Star newspaper, it would not be as bad, at least it would be worth it to buy and eat them as it would be filling, even if it were tasteless.

But in Kelantan, you would get all fancy foods - foods you would not get in KL. Jala Mas is a favourite of mine. I simply could not find it here in KL. Taik itek, akok, laksam etc etc. Of course some of these can be found in Pasar ramadhan, but they paled in comparison with the real thing in Kelantan (or Terengganu).

Akok has to be made from telur itek, so I was told.

The warungs of PPH Pengkalan Chepa would have better foods than you would ever find in the pasar ramadhan of KL, anywhere, or combined.

But the breaking of fast may pose a problem to some. During the non-fasting months, you can probably have your dinner from 6-8 pm or even later, and as it was staggered, theDewan Makan can accommodate all of us. But to do that within a space of 30 mins, it surely cannot seat 600 or more hungry students at the same time. As such, they decided that breaking of fast will be done according to class. When your turn to eat at the Dewan, all of us would be there with our own tray and mug, complete with all the rice, dishes and dates, waiting for the call for prayer.

Like these Pasteur 4 (1979 boys) waiting for someone to shout "dah masuk dah" and the hive of activities would begun. More of chaos, rather than gluttony, I guess.

All the other boys were looking at the direction of the camera but this blogger was concentrating on the foods on his tray. I can see dates, watermelon, veggie, eggs and may be a fish dish in the tray.

We were allocated 2 tables and as the boys outnumbered the gals by 4 (14 to 10 for a total of 24 students), sometimes someone may have to share the second table with the gals.

One can see Zai, Azli, the blogger, Budi, but I am not sure the far end person on the right. On the left I can see Abu, Jamil and Toi on the furthest end. I am not sure who was on this end of the pic, unfortunately the photographer took the picture vertically, when it should have been landscape. But he surely has lot of dates.

The Pasteur 4 gals - Minee, Jaghah, Sally, June and Liza. The others were hidden; they must have been shy gals. Not! At least 6 more of them in this picture, but it is not their fault; it is their photographer's. I wonder who was the gal on the left - just a portion of the hair can be seen. Sally should know I think. All them of them are in this pic, if you count the tray.

Hehe funny mugs; I am sure nowadays they would want to be seen with those anymore!

Arif told me that during his time at MRSM, he would be breaking his fast at the dewan with his homeroom mates. It sounds so boring to me, if at least I was not as familiar with my homeroom mates as I would be with my classmates. But time has changed I guess, he told me, that it was great that way.

A friend of mine - not mentioned above, told me of this story a couple of years ago. One day during Ramadhan that year, he went to buy a favourite sweets of his - Nekbat (I can't find this in Cheras). It is bigger than the marble you used to play with and it would be soaked in sugary solution.

Coming back from the PPH and getting ready for buka puasa, I guess since he was a bit late and the boys' table was full, he would have to sit with the gals, so it became a mixed table. To many, it would be a dream comes true to be able to sit with the gals, for one chances are they would share some of their cookies with you.

Of course the best part would be the cuci mata part! ;-)

In the tray would be the mouth's candy, and left, right and in front of you - the eyes' candies!

But that proofed to be a bane for him, for he had to sit with some he had been admiring (from afar) and she was quite a popular gal in class and in school, and I guess he knew he was not in her league. Not only he had to sit at the same table, but she was directly in front of her.

Lidah kelu, tak boleh berbicara.

Tak tentu arah dibuat nya. Nak makan pun tak selesa. You were trying your best to be cool and impress the other party, or at least not make a fool of oneself in front of her. Penangan cinta zaman sekolah.

So in the end, he did not touch his Nekbat and I guess he would remember this incident for the rest of his life. He was looking forward to enjoy his Nekbat, and in the end, he did not get to taste it at all as he was too embarrassed at the dining table.

Bro, should have given away the Nekbat to me then!

I guess this was the year that we had to rotate eating at the Dewan and at the dorm. She seems to be able to remember them all, this informer of mine, for I seems to have forgotten the huicy details.

She said, "Which year yang the boys and gals kena rotate buka puasa buka puasa kat dewan makan and dorm. Seingat I all the time macam tu kan, boring sungguh kalau kena angkut kuih2 tu buka kat dorm."

My brain is telling me that it is reaching an overloading situation. Beep, beep, does not compute. Memory overflow. I am shutting down...

Sorry Ma'am, I don't remember no more. I only seems to remember eating next to the gals tables. If there were no gals in the dewan, it would not be that much fun, and would not be a filling dinner. Your story on having to dine at the dorm would have blanked out from my memory ;-) It would not just be not fun having to carry the foods back to the dorms to have meals with the boys; in fact, it would be boring as we cannot 'cuci mata' while 'cuci mulut!"

Originally posted Oct 6, 2007 at 0725 hours at 360 blog.

I used to live in paradise

Having lived in Kelantan for a good five years while growing up and later in life in Terengganu (for another four years), I normally would not bat an eye-lid whenever I passed by many of their pristine beaches - I have seen them all (you know the been-there-done-that-seen-em-all attitude). I was so used to PCB in Kota Bharu (did I also visit Pantai Irama or was it Bisikan Bayu?) in the 70s. Fine beaches that they are (with poetic (or is it exotic?) names I must say), I always think that this is a norm rather than an exception in Malaysia. I thought then that all beaches in Malaysia are of Kelantan and Terengganu's standard. After all, we all live in paradise, don't we?

So I can't comprehend the fascination people have with the east coast beaches until I moved to Melaka. Pantai Klebang is not fit to be called a pantai. It is dirty and muddy and while one can enjoy the sea breeze, one surely cannot enjoy a dip in the sea.

In hindsight, I love my sojourn in the east coast in the late 70s and late 80s. In Terengganu, I love Pantai Teluk Bidara and Pantai Kemasik - in that order. To me they are sceneries postcards are made of!


Pantai Kemasik is no. 2 on my list. It is only 5 mins from Rantau, so we would go here often in the late 80s. Arif and Akmal love this beach too. The above panoramic pic was taken by Arif in May 07 while having our kepok leko from the same spot. What a place to have your leko! Note the moon in the pic (below, right). The big pic above was taken by someone in flickr - thank you. it is a nice pic.

To me then, with nothing much to do either in Kerteh or Dungun, I love to take a stroll and do nothing at these beaches. Yeah, it is ironic, isn't it? Good for the soul. Kopratasa even raved about this beauty in an equally-beautiful keroncong song that immortalize Teluk Bidara, which is sited near Tanjung Jara.

My No 1 beach in Malaysia - Teluk Bidara, pasirmu nan putih...you should listen to Kopratasa's beautiful keroncong, waxing lyrically about this beach. There is cave in the rock hill that will take you to the other side. There is also a light house on top of a hill near the beach. Look at the crystal clear water and azure blue sea. Forget about the Mediterranean, or the Caribbean or Hawaii. This is no.1 beach on my list. Come to think of it, Terengganu has a monopoly of songs about her beaches - Cendering (Jimmy Boyle), Kenangan di Rantau Abang (Rafeah Buang), Teluk Bidara (Kopratasa). After all, it probably has hundreds of miles of pristine beaches.

Arif and Akmal at the cave entrance at Teluk Bidara and enjoying the crystal-clear water. Note the white sandy beaches in the background. This was taken in 2004 during the general election as this writer is a registered voter there by virtue having lived in Kerteh/Dungun in the late 80s. Someone offered me a 4.5-acre land here fit for chalets - I didn't have the money so I didn't take up the offer. I wish I have the money that will enable me to retire in Paradise.

Recently during the school hols, I stopped with my car full of 6 childrens at a Kerteh beach, during a full moon. My God, it was so beautiful with only the moon lighting up the beach there. The (full) moon as at about a third of the sky's height, illuminating the sea. It was so calm, so serene. I was really mesmerized by the scene. So I really do appreciate the east coast a lot.

Personally I think beaches on the west coast pale in comparison.

Why the brou-ha-ha about Penang beaches for example? Other than the charm of old Georgetown, I can't for the life of me think of any reason why I would want to go to Penang to sample her beaches. Don't get me wrong, I love the colonial set-up of Georgetown (the very reason I love Taiping). But having spent 2 nights there last weekend for a math indoctrination with Arif and Akmal, I would not go to Penang for her beaches.

Tanjung Bungah and Batu Feringhi are over-rated. For one the water is muddy and not crystal clear - these two things can easily put one off. Secondly, do check in the vicinity how many drains there are that are draining waste water directly to the sea. I found one big one in Tanjung Bungah only 50m from my hotel. One can see the effect of the drain on the seawater as it disperse into the sea. Even if the water is 'clean', no one would want to swim in 'air longkang', would you? Pity those mat sallehs for bathing there. I should have told them to go to Terengganu and Kelantan.


The view from the hotel room of Tanjung Bungah beach. Note the boundary layer of the longkang water with the sea water. One can see the ripples of the longkang water as it drains to the sea.



Arif, Akmal and I went investigating after breakfast looking for the culprit. This is the source of the waste water draining directly into the sea. It is not only unsightly, but downright dirty. This is in the heart of Penang. No wonder Penang is called the garbage dump of the orient.

Shame on you Penang City Council - stop treating the beach as your waste-and-waste-water dump site! You have no excuse to allow any drain to go directly to the sea.

Love our beaches. They are our treasures that we can't buy with any amount of wealth. Our childrens and grandchilds may never enjoy them again, if we are not careful.

Epilogue

I am beginning to wonder about the naming convention of beaches in Kelantan. Such poetic name I must say - Pantai Irama, Pantai Bisikan Bayu and the old Pantai Cinta Berahi which has been changed to Pantai Cahaya Bulan (but with the initials intact). My fav is of course the Beach of the Whispering Wind. Macam citer Famous Five by Enid Blyton je! Unlike in Terengganu, beach naming is a bit more simpler - Kemasik is the name of sungai near the beach (and the town).

Listen to Nyanyian Ombak by Harmoni.

First Posted on Time in a Bottle
Sunday July 8, 2007 - 10:18am (MYT)

Oh burung Pungguk....

Prologue

Yesterday morning (Sunday) while I was jogging near my apartment in Kerteh, I came across this creature. At first glance, I thought it was a small ugly monkey. Upon closer inspection, it looks like a burung punggok, tho I am not very sure as I always thot that normally Punggok has wide round eyes.

It didn't fly away when I went close to it to inspect. (Luckily my former PDA phone - now with only PDA functionality - has a camera. It is only a 1.3 MP camera, so it is not that clear.)

This bird ain't afraid of no human. It stares back at me when I close in on him. "Hey you, why stare stare? I may be ugly but you think you are so handsome yourself?" the bird seems to be saying to me. But it sure has very nice batik-like feathers.

Never mind, punggok or no punggok, I remember this old song - a remake by Sharifah Aini. I love this song. It is different from the normal love song - in both the melody and lyrics. Well, it still is a love song (albeit one on unrequited love), but it is more subtle and full of idioms (this time starring the owl). The backing orchestra also did a fine job with the song, for it is a difficult song to accompany - it has at least 4 different tempo (unlike normal song which normally would have two, in my amateur opinion). I can't find the lyric on the net, so I am writing it down as I remember it. I do have this song in my collection, but away in KL.

(Click here to listen to this beautiful song)

Burung Pungguk

Oh burung pungguk
Malang nasibmu
Rupamu buruk
tak siapa yang mahu

Bila malam telah tiba
Dilangit bulan bercahaya
kau berbunyi berhiba-hiba
merindukan bulan purnama
Sungguh suara mu menawan hati
kedengaran dipohon kayu
bagaikan bintang dikasihi

Tetapi wahai pungguk
Kau tak diacuhkan
Walaupun kau merajuk
Maratapi diri
Bulan hanya bagai mengatakan
Oh kasihan

Malangnya nasibmu wahai si burung pungguk
Tidak seperti burung Nuri didalam sangkar
dikasihi lelaki dan perempuan
untuk menghibur hati yang rawan

EPILOGUE

This entry was originally posted at Time in a Bottle
Monday May 28, 2007 - 09:43am (MYT)

The Perak Man and I could have shared the same Alma Mater
You all know the Perak man, right? No, not me lah. I am a Perakian, but not the Perak Man. He was prehistoric, lived 10,000 years ago in Gua Gunung Runtuh near Bukit Kepala Gajah which is right at the edge of Lenggong town. He was found buried in 1991 by Prof Dr Zuraina of USM. My point is if the Perak man is still alive, I am sure he would have gone to the same school I attended to in the 70s – SRJK (I) Lenggong. If he was born in the 60s we could have been classmates – after all he died in his 40s. Our house in Lenggong was only a few hundred meters from Bukit Kepala Gajah. We used to wonder about the hill when we were kids while walking to our mengaji place in the nearby kampung. Although we didn’t know its name then, we nicknamed it Bukit Gajah since it resembles gajah. (Little did we know it is really known as Bukit Kepala Gajah!) We reckoned then that it was the work of Sang Kelembai who ‘sumpah’ the gajah to become batu. For what reason, we do not know.

For that I would claim that that school must be the oldest school in Malaysia!
Cikgu Faridah (Std 3)

I recently went to a wedding in Taman Tun. That was the second invites I got from the host. The first time I was seated next to a UKM lecturer and while we were having our small chat, he asked me about my relationship with the host. I said, “Well, I was bride’s mother’s Std 3 student!” He was surprised, “And you all still keep in touch?”

(Hey, I am not that old you know! ;-) )

Yeah, we do. Cikgu Faridah and her husband Cikgu Hizam are family friends of my parents, and the first three of us kids were, at one time or another, taught by one of them. In my case, cikgu Faridah was my class teacher for Std 3 in SRJK (I) Lenggong in 1972. A nice teacher eventhough I didn’t do too well then because of the eye-sight problem that I have that year, so I had to move from the back of the classroom (I was the biggest boy obviously) to the front of the class, next to a girl (Sarah was her name), so my study suffered! Hahaha, joking only mah! She kept on reminding me how my study had deteriorated, but there was little I could do without glasses.
The second time we got invited to another of their daughter’s wedding, the Hariri’s family was allocated a table of our own. And just two tables away was a group of their teacher’s friends from Lenggong. And obviously their teacher friends had to be our teachers too!
Cikgu Laily (Std 2)

So that’s how I met again my Std 2 (1971) teacher Cikgu Laily. I would have to say she was perhaps one of my favourite teachers, if not the favourite teacher. I couldn’t recognize her to be honest, and I must say that I didn’t realize that how far we had gone through time. Whatever memory I had of her, that’s not how I remember her. I remember a very fair, good looking - make that pretty - teacher. I believe the feeling was mutual, in the sense in front of her at that time is not the innocent 8-year old rural town boy, but a 40-something father of two, all burnt out from life’s pressures. She is still soft spoken I must admit.

I guess it is different with Cikgu Faridah and Cikgu Hizam. We probably met every few years, so the changes are more gradual. As for Cikgu Laily, well that was the first time I saw her again after leaving Lenggong for Taiping at the end of 1972; that’s more than 35 years ago. But I have fond memories of her. I excelled under her tutelage and was untouchable then – it helped, of course, that the smartest girl in school was no longer around. (More of her later.) I really enjoyed her class and her presence as a teacher. I remember that year well, for she had given me the task of ‘memorising’ the Rukun Negara (for a competition I think) when it was first introduced (you know that…Maka kami, rakyat Malaysia berikrar….keluhuran perlembagaan…) and I guess she was confident I would win it (or at least that’s how I remember it). But I was sick when the day arrived and hence didn’t compete.

Cikgu Laily, I especially remember the subject “Berita” where we had to write a short story or news and present it to the class. At one time I wrote a story along this line; “Yesterday I saw a beggar who was all wet by the rain. He went into an old barn and light up a fire to heat up his body’” and of course complete with a drawing of someone lighting up a fire next to a cow, or something resembling someone and a cow. OK OK I am no Picasso or Latif Mohidin!

I guess it must have been so real that she had to ask me if that was a true story! I didn’t answer her; I just smiled. (Of course I made that up. I was quite imaginative then.) Oh, BTW I learned that song Senjakala in her class.
Cikgu Ainon (Std 1)

Another teacher during those years was cikgu Ainon; my Std 1 teacher of 1970. She was the only teacher who would dare caning an anak Hariri. Well it was my fault really and if bapak were to read this I am sure he would applaud Cikgu Ainon for that. Since I was a big-sized boy for my age, I would normally have to sit at the back . Back then I had a good friend, Fazidah who is the daughter of bapak’s boss at the Pejabat Tanah (the ADO), so at every opportunity I would chit-chat with her. Well, when we were in the same class, I had to play second fiddle to her – she definitely was smarter.

So during one of those rare lull periods, Cikgu Ainon would ask us to do our own reading, while she was marking the books or something along the line. I had other ideas then. So like all hyper-active Std 1 boys, I would sneak to Fazidah’s desk – hiding behind rows of tables, for another chit-chat session. I guess we were engrossed in our chats – God knows what seven year olds would talk about - that we didn’t realize that Cikgu Ainon was right behind me and all of the sudden I heard a swooshing sound and felt an excruciating pain on my back. She had hit me with a rotan! Take that for defying her order.

But I guess that didn’t devalue me in her eyes. Many a times, she would ask Fazidah and me to do the honour and ‘ring’ the bell for the break. The first time she asked us, we had difficulty finding it. By the time we found it after asking around, Cikgu Ainon had beaten us to the bell! I guess we must have taken so long a time, or may be she thought we had abandoned the search and gone to the canteen ourselves!
I had my revenge of sort (well, not really actually) in Std 3, when one day I stopped her and told her that an uncle of mine kirim salam to her. I am sure that he was just pulling my leg, thinking that I would not dare telling Cikgu Ainon, but I did! As I have said, in SRJK(I) Lenggong, I was a much different person and untouchable! Hahaha...I can't quite remember her reaction, but most likely she took it in her stride. Luckily for me, she didn't marry him. If she did, then he would not have been my uncle! (For he was an uncle by marriage. He is also the most talented artist that I had ever met - he used to paint the murals on the Taiping Zoo entrance arch. But like many talented people, he died young - at 36 in 1982; one of the three saddest years of my life in the 80s, all on a trot.)

Unfortunately like the abode of the Perak man, the school is in ruin. Like many rural schools, it was built using timber, so it didn’t last that long. It’s a pity. The building is no longer in use and the school has been relocated to another site. I was told recently by an ex-classmate, who took the trouble to look for me through Ansara KB, that many of us are doing quite well. We have a couple of engineers (ehem ehem), a doctor, a couple of professors, many teachers, many businessmen/women etc in our midst. Quite an achievement for a school in a town quite remote, where in the 60s you would have to pass by a couple of army posts to get to town. Communist insurgency was not the only problem then, it was so remote that when one night we had a car breakdown in the middle of nowhere on our return to Lenggong (from Taiping), bapak told us to wind up all the windows while he went out to check on the engine. It was pitch black outside. Mr Rimau was the problem in the 70s!

The view of the main entrance of the school. One could see the padang where we had our scout jamboree in 1972 and all the sport activities. The blue building in the background is the Balai Raya where it used to host my kindergarten class. The hibiscus flower in the middle the building is still there. It was at this Padang that we watched our first public screening of a cowboy-red indian movie. We didnt buy any drink or food there as we were warned about possible 'santau'. Despite that, we had our fun in the moonlight!
Then again, I am not surprised by my exclassmates’ achievement. The Lenggong Valley is the prehistoric capital of Malaysia and we were right in the middle of it. There must be a reason why our prehistoric ancestors chose Lenggong Valley for their abode. I am sure it rubbed off to us kids during those days.
Of course we had a strong foundation set by our teachers then. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.