THIS HOUSE IS OUR HOUSE

Of Discomfort and Challenging Views

2008-04-13T19:46:00.000-07:00

A recently concluded training that I organized on women rights is another eye opener.
Not that I shut my eyes to the issue before this, but I do not have to deal with it straight on as I did during the training.

One of my fellow facilitator propose that for examining a specific aspect on whether or not women can imamate, we should look at contemporary examples of women, who faced death threats and hate mails, risked their lives to prove their beliefs that women can be an Iman. Subsequent to that, we will bring up these examples supported by past experiences found in hadiths of how this is possible.

To put things in context, my dear Watson, is, as many contemporary thinkers put it, is elementary. Or, to understand the agencies that influence a woman's approach to dressing themselves or behave, as feminists contextualize women issues.

I kept my mouth shut at this point while my brain tried as fast as it 29 year old living cells can process thoughts. Then , I explained my view as a trainer. A trainer is a person whose job is getting across messages or new infos that at times are delicate. The message can also many a times be uncompromising or heaven forbids, potentially blasphemious. In doing so, I need not only weigh the probabilities of doing it by looking at the context of the message or infos I want to inform the target audience, but also the target audience's context.

Like for the previous training on women rights, my audience are basicly a bunch of normal peeps that thinks "gender" is one of the column we need to fill in those official forms. They are Muslims who pray and fast and loves to watch Akademi Fantasia. They could come up with crude jokes on why people love to dress baby boys in blue and at the same time, concerned with the rape and sexual harassment cases that happened to their friends or family members. They wanted to learn about women's rights but could not identify what are the things they need to learn.

So, as a trainer, I would say let's plan our training content and session in the light of our praticipants's context. Can they stomach Amina Wadud when they themselves have problem digesting the idea of women equality? What about looking at women as Syariah Judges and Muftis? They might have issues with these two areas too. But after some convincing, they rule out having the issue as the main theme but rather put it up for power point. I said sure. But of course, during the training itself, people just simply stared into blankness, pretend not to listen or whispered among themselves. Well, at least, they don't go off board screaming "blasphemy" or walked out. To me, the passive repsonses is normal when you talk about something they are not comfortable with. After the session, I had a round of casual chat with them and discovered about 90% of them are uncomfortable with the topic. That's likely to happen as I have assumed that to happen from the start.

Okay, so, some vocal imaginary readers might raised his/her imaginary hands and ask this very real question, " Then what's the biggie, dude?"

The biggie is this. The inter-faith commission, the proposed new direction requesting family memebers to inform their family if they want to covert, Islam Hadhari, Islamic State, Kongsi Raya, the recently concluded training and a list of other issues that you could group together with the rest here lacks one thing. It lacks a structure for people who are not comfortable with issues that are beyond the context of their beliefs, faith or norms but are confronted with these issues head on to actually name their discomfort and identify their fears. I just realized that as much as the facilitators of my programme tried their best not to sound imposing when speaking about the issue of women as imamate, it still came out sounding imposing. Or is it just natural for areas like religion or race to have such effect after all. And people are citing "unbelievable" or "this is too much" when they listen to the presentation but they could not offer a reason for feeling that way. Has the supression of freedom of thought, opinion and choice in our society reach a depressing level where people walked around in state of fear, angry or blur without knowing why? Or is it because of our culture that stresses on courtesy and politeness? Well, I think we could still speak our heart and mind politely. I mean, that's why our ancestors are able to invent courteous mode of language plays in order to be cynical such as simpulan bahasa, pantun or gurindam. Not only to court or flirt around, you know.

Or maybe, there won't be any structure at all. damage done is damage done. No such thing as damage control. Isn't that scary then? For forever we will not be able to deal with our personal fears over some contemporary issues except by having those mental battles that could be frustrating and depressing for us to handle.

Sigh

This house needs a loooong vacation next week.

Heracles, ni hao ma?

2008-03-27T23:44:00.000-07:00

<--- [Linda and the Tibetan couple]

The recent public protest in China for hosting the coming up Olympics remind me of an incident that me, Linda (an activist working on HIV/AIDS issue in China and Sylvain (a soft hearted feminist anarchic from Quebec) encountered in Montreal few years back. We were waiting for a gig to start (it was Ted Leo and the Pharmacists) at the Spanish Esplanade Club, situated in the somewhat more “young and hip” spot of Montreal, when an old Chinese couple approached the three of us. We thought they were Linda’s relatives or Chinese folks wanting to do some bonding with fellow countrymen until they said, in firm loud voice, “We are Tibetans,”

Sylvain swore under his breath or mumbled something about hoping no fights will ensue out of that “reunion” while I just stood, grinning rather foolishly. Both me and Sylvain had some sparse knowledge of the China-Tibet conflict and were prepared to intervene should anything occur. However, the couples just came closer to her and gave her a strong wholesome hug that only two old friends can afford to give each other after a long separation. Then, they start talking in their native language while the couple from time to time, pointing and holding the native made sling bag she had with her. No wonder, Linda explained later, the sling bag was decorated with Tibetan native motifs and became an entry point for the couple to act in such way.

“But you’re not a Tibetan, you’re Chinese,”

“I know, I explained that a Tibetan friend gave that bag to me and the rest is history,”

They spend the rest of the waiting period conversing with each other, laughing and smiling over some stories or jokes they shared while me and Sylvain tried our best trying to get a glimpse of the cute guys who was busy doing sound check. The Tibetan couple showed us their nice big restaurant just opposite the club and invited us over for a meal. “Maybe next time”, we said.

We rocked with Ted Leo that night (and some other up and coming Montreal bands that are quite “syok sendiri”) while at the same time felt relieved that our comrade did not get into an inter-State conflict right before we are ready to enjoy the gig. To Linda, I miss you actually and hope you continue to touch the lives of people in China with your hard work and determination.

To China, May Heracles watches over you
*shaking my head and rolling my eyes while saying this*

In Time for Santau and Love

2008-03-25T20:31:00.000-07:00

I promised the people that I loved that I will not hang my dirty laundry in this blog but perhaps this time, I will let my broken heart do the talking or typing. Take this as an oxymoron attempt. An honest outburst spiced with diverse feelings using an artificial space that doesnt care about honesty at all. here goes...

My brother, only brother to be exact, has fallen in love with a girl from Kuala Pilah. "You' re sick with love, and I am sick watching you," I told him the last time I met him. How did he take my words? A goofy wide smile and I am almost sure some fictious salivas must have been drooping from his mouth. But what do I care? He loves her so it is his choice and I know my brother very well. He is a localised version of Don Juan Marco who put so much efforts and strings of sick love declarations in all of his relationship. But this time, he wants to marry her.

"Your choice, Boy. I am just happy that you want to settle down and all, but again, you know what's best for you,"

Mom and my whole family find it a bit strange.
'He's too young for this" That's Grandma.
"What is he trying to do now? Kill me?" That's Mom
"There could be black magic at work!" That's both my mom and grandma.

Boy indeed has been effectively "santau-ed" to the level that he started to miss his weekly visits to our houses and also balik kampung trips. I am sure the santau is made of the strongest ingredient that no man can withstand its magical effect. The ingredient is love. Angau, lovesick, gila bayang. There are many names associate to this santau. But my heart strongly say its a santau made of love.

"The girl's mom is a black witch and she's very good at making santaus,"
"The girl is evil, she has "locked" boy into only loving her and forgetting his own family,"
I wonder where all this accusations will lead us too. Boy, has always been a bit detached from us because he was raised by my Grandma and our other aunties, alternately. There is a time where I feel we had taking advantange of his reserved and detached self and sort of abandoned him. And now, he found solace with a group of strangers. People that never raised him and knew him before and yet, maybe care for him.

How convenient for my family to dismiss this observation casually and blame black magic as the reason. How convenient it is to insult others in return of concealing our darkest guilt and secret.
Two days ago, Boy met with an accident and broke his arm. He chose to stay in Seremban rather than coming back with his family. Yesterday, he called in tears and asked me to take him back to my house. Mom came to the Ward to pick him up after he was discharged but got into a nasty quarrel with the girl's family.
'Bawak aku balik, aku dah tak tahan dah, aku nak mati," Was his emotional words.

During the trip to Seremban to "save" Boy from the nasty affair, Union Guy asked me...
"You are not thinking its a work of black magic, right? ,"
"Nope,"
"Me either, maybe we ourselves need to reflect on how we treat Boy all these fighting years,"
"Yeah,"
"How would you feel if he chose the girl's family over yours?"
" What can I do? I am just happy to know somebody loves him better than us and can take care of him,"

And I told him of the story of the two mothers that were fighting over a baby they claimed was theirs. King Solomon ordered for the baby to be cut into halves so that each women got their equal share of the baby. One mother withdrew from the fight upon hearing this and said, " Give the baby to the other mother, but please don't kill the baby,"

I don't seek to win the fight over Boy's heart in this case, similarly like the Mother in the story above. I am ready to let him go and embrace his new family if that is the best thing for him. No matter what happens, he is still my brother and no santau can change that.

Hopefully.

For "Once", move aside Dreamgirls!

2007-11-20T17:48:00.000-08:00

Another musical, minus the fur , sequins and sexy thighs.

I am talking about "ONCE"- a musical starring an Irish band frontman with lotsa hair and a cute professional musician. You get to watch this pair flirt and seduce each other in between their musical interactions loaded with lotsa, lotsa chemistry.

They might not end up being an item in the movie but oh, yes they are dating outside despite the age gap. But, wait, I mean ...what AGE GAP? They want each other and they are happy to be together. Pardon my corny persona, I can't help it. Safra is in the midst of trying to overturn her chubby self on the playmat. Sob.

Here's some lovey dovey tracks from the movie. Aww...

Radiohead says "Pay as U Like"

2007-11-19T18:04:00.000-08:00

Radiohead
IN RAINBOW
Digital: Oct. 10 '07,
Discbox : Bef./On Dec. 3 '07

Thanks Radiohead for letting us consumers/fans buy your new album according to how much WE THINK it's worth.

Hail to the consumers. Clap. Clap.

My friend bought it for zero pound. He thinks it is TOO good to have a price tag.
"And price tag..." He claimed, "... is a creation of the market system, I think Yorke wants us to understand this point, that us consumers have our own individual evaluation of the worth of their latest product without having to succumbed to the price set by major labels and the market"
Uhuh.

OR dear friend, let just say you're having a credit deficit problem!

Constant faves: bodysnatchers, 15 steps, reckoner
Dreamy and lullaby-isque: videotape

It's Radiohead before Amnesiac, me thinks. A lot more clearer lines with lush sounds of bass, less experimental without losing that Radiohead signature sound.

Go buy and pay as you want.

When yellow raincoats are radical!

2007-11-12T00:38:00.000-08:00

From last Saturday onwards, yellow disposable raincoat will be considered as the most fashionable and subversive street wear and we have GUARDIAN counters to thank.

Clap. Clap.

Apart from the massive public turnout (estimated at around 80K by a participant and 40K by Malaysiakini.com), the next best thing about the BERSIH rally is the willingness of the Royal Institution to accept the memorandum despite Pak Lah’s warning, not to drag the Royal Institution into politics. This house hopes more will come out of this event. The huge number of demonstrators marching to the Royal Palace also reflects how the public could no longer withstand our powers that be’ s dirty electoral tactics and manipulation of democracy. But of course, even Hitler is a product of the ballot box.

As for Zainuddin Maidin. I felt like drowning myself into the huge swimming pool in front of my room as I listen to him desperately trying to sound firm but unintelligent (that does not need any trying, me thinks) over the phone with Al-Jazeera. There gotta be SOMETHING that earns him such a position that overestimates his ability and talents.

Boo. Boo.

To the demonstrators, hail to democracy!

Some YouTube stuff on the demo

Flickr pics on the demo

I accidentally arrived early for work today and this was what i did.

2007-11-06T16:13:00.000-08:00

Do we really mean it when we say we care about other people? + What happened last Saturday?

2007-11-04T18:47:00.000-08:00

There are two different levels of atmosphere, worldview, philosophy and maybe even clothes when it comes to my work. Let's call the first level the "bussiness class" level. I need to wear nice coats or silky and shiny baju kurungs matched with expensive leather pumps or high heel sandals plus a small impractical handbag sling over my shoulder or delicately held between my fingers together with my leather file stacked with papers, proposals, reports, Federal Constitution and simplified version of International Human Rights Conventions. The meeting will be full of ( or should I say infested?) with pleasentries that even the sweetest "kuih lapis" failed to match the exchange of words between the senior officials. This is also the time when sugar canes are mass produced every minute or so, whilst the Secretary furiously scribble away minutes of the meeting and still able to answer SMS on her phone efficiently. Welcome to the world where I am practising negotiations with some of the top officials in the country in the areas of human rights. Some of them ARE and potentially the human rights violaters themselves but my organization has high hopes that soft diplomacy might change the situation.
At this level, my superior could stand forever to speak on human rights. Not just her, almost everybody could "stand" the air-conditioned room, delicious refreshments and velvet cushions while lamenting on the poor predicaments of the people down there. Me, on the other hand, had in the past, involved in series of heated arguments which most of the time I give in. Due to my impatient nature, I am not a very popular choice to attend meetings. Besides, knowledge is something that everyone retrieve while you are articulating your unsubstantiated points. I didnt say this. Somebody I believe thinks so.

What about the second level? This level requires me and the others to go down to the grassroots and try to mobilize and empower them to stand up and claim their rights. This involves trainings, workshops and perhaps even just sitting together with the community for hours, trying to understand their language and feelings while dissecting their issues and problems. This is the level where my superior would be asking " can we ask them to explain their problems faster?" or "can you ask them to register their names faster?". People apparently are getting less patient at this level. The heat or dust, the insects or thick jungles has this effect of making people lost control. Last Saturday, the program of which my organization conducted for an indigenous community in Pahang requires everybody to be patient. Apart from getting the Registration Department to register the indigeneous people's birth certificate and identification card, we also have a session where facilitators were assigned to sit with numerous groups of indigenous parents, giving them some space to talk about their children's education. Again, patience is the key.

I must say, my patience is tested from minute to minute during the program but it helps me emphatize with the nature and situation of the indigeneous community. Let my patience be tested on the ground as part of God's design to help me improve my temperamental self, rather then acting patient in the conference room when what I actually wanted to do is scream myself to contentment as everybody around me apply their PR skills. It is hence, proven now that I will make a very bad diplomat or negotiator.

Where am I?

2007-11-02T01:27:00.000-07:00

Apart from getting more and more jaded with how things are at the office, the only thing that makes me happy these days are 1). Safra and 2). Union guy. Corny, I know. Make sure you "bold" and "capitalize" the word when you are reading this. I mean, what else can make you happy after a rotten working day apart from a cute daughter who's exploring the possibility of eating her own hands and a hubby who's funny and calm despite earthquakes or other types of natural disasters?

My busy days saving the world commenced rather chaotic-ly after my maternity leave ended. From figuring out where to put Safra during my working hours and other parental issues which never crossed my mind 27 years before this. This weekend would be the first time I left Safra for more than three days as I have to conduct training for religious teachers in the northern part of the country. Safra has not showed any signs of protest yet except sucking her hands vigorously as I told her a bedtime story about a queen who has to leave her princess with a nice nenek kebayan because the queen has to fight some war in the northern part of her kingdom. Sounds familiar? :)

My love to our brave astronaut...

2007-10-17T19:09:00.000-07:00

Pardon me if I spelled "astraunaut" wrongly.
That's why I am not one of the 854.

"Oh, gee, stop being sarcastic", Hubby started to get irritated with my endless jab at our first spaceflyer.
"We know we need someone from Malaysia to be an astronaut". He added oh-so-no-sarcastically.

This household was excited at the thought of having a Malaysia exploring the space.But the excitement stops there. But I bet the rest of the Malaysians find the privilege of having our first astronaut great and memorable. Well, JAKIM for starters, produced a booklet on how to pray in outerspace, relishing in the fact that a Malaysian Muslim made it to the space. I bet right now, toy companies even Matel Inc. would love to mass produce batu seremban and gasings with a fresh caution on the packaging-"May also be played by qualified astronauts ONLY".
The eloquent English speaking kids from SK Bukit Damansara who were interviewed by TV3 last night could still be talking non-stop about their experience chatting live with our spaceflyer via televideo conferencing with their eloquent English speaking parents.

'What's wrong with that?" My hubby asked again. Well, nothing wrong about that but I bet Malay speaking kids studying at SK Sabak Bernam may come up with similar answers as the SK Bukit Damansara kids, if not as eloquent.

There's a reason for public (some) to jockingly call our first spaceflyer a space tourist.
Well, I will give our Syed some "muka" and call him an astronaut.
Wonder if he could see Putrajaya from up there as clear as the great wall of China.

Meet my friend- the Music Snob!

2007-09-16T00:26:00.000-07:00

Do you have a friend who is a music snob?

Oh wait, before we get to the more delicious part, lemme first define "music snob".

Music snob is someone who thinks he or she posses great quality of taste in music that are identical to the taste of music reviewers, and who thinks that because of his or her self acclaimed good taste in music, he or she has the right toshoot down other people 's music preference.

Mild example:

Music Snob: God, I feel like an idiot wearing this "The Cure" t-shirt when I don't even watch them "live".
A friend who's wearing "The Cure" t-shirt: Really?
Music Snob: (Stifled a gigle) Oh wait, I take that back. I did see them "live" in Singapore.
(Raised an eyebrow) What about you?

I have/had one.He seemed like a nice ordinary music geek who dedicate his sen and ringgit to concert tickets, CDs, rock t-shirts, concert dvds and the works. Before he has wide extensive knowledge about the indie rock scene, he was an avid Wikipedian who researched dilligently hours before he went out and hang out with his buddies. He will then, interrupt a conversation here and there, with the question, "Do you know that..." while others swore in their hearts, for letting him hung out with them. O, What dedication! O, What passion!

Except...he used his fierce passion for music to put other people down.

MS : You like these US bands?
( I am a fan of the Elephant 6 bands plus some other indie-folk band like Neutral Milk Hotel, but the MS, he only listens to UK bands because according to him, the Next Big Thing always emerged from that part of the world. Maybe that's why he looks like some lost Mod dresser in Brickfields )
Me : Yeah, they sound different. Weird but interesting.
He just shrugged off my answer.

Modest Mouse, Arcade Fire? Nope, not his cup of coffee.I don't care, actually, as long as you don't act snobbish with your choice of music. He also likes to act bored or pretend to be "in the know" if his friends recommend new emerging bands to him. I bet he owns a Music Band Almanac, for saving his face as the music band specialist just in case some of us mention bands he's not familiar with.

When I asked him why he's like this, he answered back, assumingly like some rude big headed punk rock star, "Oh, I don't have anything else better to do,"

Yeah, right. Let's start with your current job which has a lot to do with saving the world.

Now comes the best part (err...for me, I think).
I was checking out the files I saved on the desktop when I noticed a music file for Clap Your Hands And Say Yeah. My other half do not listen to this band. Me, on the other hand, owns the band's first album.
"Who send you this?" I asked him. He said "The Music Snob".
I smiled widely.

Next thing I heard he bought a Modest Mouse CD.
Hah.
The reason, he cited was because Johny Marr, The Smiths's former guitarist joined the band for their latest album, We were Dead Even Before the Ship Sank. Johny Marr? Again, Johny Marr???? Are we even talking about The Smiths, now? The force to reckon with when you talk about MM is not Johny Marr, its Isaac Brock!!! What nerve!

To the Music Snob; dude, enjoy your music but just don't forget to respect other people's choice of music and get a life!

Safra in the flesh...

2007-09-15T08:17:00.001-07:00

When she's cheerful

When she's not happy

When she's sleepy

Love you, girl!

Salam Merdeka, Nek Shamsiah!

2007-09-01T06:23:00.000-07:00

History, they said is written by winners. If that is the case, then history is merely a compilation of selected facts that suits the powers that be.

How very sad.

That is why our country's 50th celebration of Merdeka Day is a sad affair. Its a combination of mass or (public) happiness conjured by music and fireworks to mark the day our land was freed from the wretched colonial powers. It became a much nauseating event when th public is drag into idolization of those currently in power as those responsible for setting Tanah Melayu free from the British.

How very sad.

I am not lying (or being ultra-dramatic) when I say I shed tears on Merdeka Day. Not for feeling proud for what we have achieved so far as an Independent Country. Our monuments of progress are everywhere for every Ali, Ah Chong and Muthu in the country to brag. I shed tears on Merdeka Day for things that our country CAN be. I also shed tears for Shamsiah Fakeh, a long forgotten freedom fighter who led AWAS and later joined the 10th Regiment, her contribution was reduced to a mere paragraph in our mainstream history textbooks. I would not be shocked if it will be reduced to a mere footnote in the future. I mean look what happened to the Studies on Unity textbook for undergrads. History is also subject to fabrication and amendment...by people that manipulate history as a tool to gain power or influence.

Speaking of Shamsiah Fakeh, where is she during Merdeka Day? Sad to say, she is struggling alone on hospital bed, resisting her breathing problems while receiving a handful of admirers. Me and Union Guy were among those visitors. Thanks to our friend, The Cat Lover, we get to know about her condition on Merdeka eve, prompting us to visit her although we are pretty sure WE would be mere "footnotes" to her.

Shamsiah Fakeh seemed frail and vulnerable because of her illness, but two things I noticed about her which immediately separate her from other frail old folks resting on hospital bed are 1).She still read. A book by Syed Zahari rested on her lap when we came. 2). She wore a wrist watch,checking on the time as we mentioned time or other tentatives to her.

Her voice however, is barely audible because of the gas and food tubes attached to her nose and mouth. In spite of those medical complexities that surrounded her sick body, Nenek Shamsiah (as we called her, impromptu) is still alert to our words and actions. Leading a life as challenging as hers, we are aware that trusting strangers is the last thing she would do. As Union Guy softly mentioned our other friends who had came earlier to visit her, she responded with slow nods and mumbled something slowly. We tried to get her wrote her answers but her hands were weak and her handwriting is hard to read. Finally, we just sat beside her and let silence consume ourselves. She smiled the widest when we showed her a digital picture of Safra. She wiped her eyes when we told her we wish Safra has guts like hers in pursuing whatever she will do in the future.

I wish her Selamat Hari Merdeka before we left. I told Union Guy, it sounded like a mockery to her because she is fully aware of how her contribution to history was robbed by the "winners".
But what can we do because we don't write the history? On this point, I silently wished that works by young people who are defiant to rewrote history so that all the unsung heroes a.k.a freedom fighters gets the place they deserve in history will be succesful and recognized by the society.

But is it all about having a place in history? I remember a lecturer told me, way back in campus, "Nope, its about getting by history right".

On that note, I dedicate this year's Merdeka to our unsung forefathers who fought with blood and sweat without succumbing to the demands of British. Those who were in AWAS, API, KMM and other Merdeka fronts failed to be recognized rightly by our history. They know who they are. So do we.

I also dedicate "Merdeka!" to the people especially some anak muda who are not just "berlapang dada" with our existing history but with strong spirit of inquiry and motivation, took the initiative (and risk, I must say) to dig our past and unearth the old wounds or bittersweet kisses of our country's history, no matter what. Because, like someone said " Siapa cakap sejarah tidak boleh ditulis semula?"

But then again, I beg to differ slightly, baby. We can rewrote history if we have the money. Cat Lover told Union Guy, "Kalau aku nak historical footage dari Arkeb Negara, aku kena bayar RM400 seminit! Itupun, Arkeb Negara hanya ada 10% sumber nih, the rest masih ngan Arkeb di London.Takkan nak pegi London plak untuk research sejarah negara sendiri."

Betul ke Merdeka sedangkan sejarah tanah air sendiri masih di tangan bekas penjajah?

Selamat Hari Merdeka, Nek Shamsiah!

Common Law plak...

2007-08-28T21:31:00.000-07:00

I might be a bit blur due to lack of sleep because Safra decides that 3 a.m is the best time of the day to try out "London Calling" but THIS I can't miss.

So, apparently, in the name of Independence, we need to abolish Common Law as a source of reference for our legal system. Before I could say "Milk Rashes", I noted with great astonishment (of which I kept for bizarre incidents, only, mind you) that THIS was suggested by our Chief Justice and our present AG.

OK, I am not a practicing lawyer, but for God's sake, I am trained to be one and I fully understand the significance of Common Law to our system. Not only that, I am also fully aware of what "Independence" means. So, this I would like to ask to those who come up with this idea and to those who support it; How far has Common Law become a source of threat to our country's Independence? Should we abolish CL, which means the Civil Law Act, Section 3 and 5 (I hope I get the Sections correct) need to be amended, in one way or another, are we ready to introduce a new system of setting precedents which will not jeopardize the functions of the Judiciary? Are we ready to refer to our own local set of precedents in matters pertaining to human rights? Haven't the lawyers and judges being creative and steadfast in their interpretation of our local law by referring to progressive case laws from UK and other Commonwealth countries? In fact, our importation of CL into our legal system is not blatant or unchecked as the Civil Law Act allows it so long as it is permissible within the local context.

Want to really challenge the colonial legacy? I have a suggestion. Abolish ISA. This piece of legislation was a British invention to fight insurgency. The Societies Act. That was also another Act designed to counter triad activities once upon a time ago. Now, these draconian Acts are nothing but archaic laws that have outlived its objectives.

But why has these Acts been overlooked by our CJ and AG? Obviously some of us can pick and choose how to define "Independence". Especially when we have the power to do so.

Stardust or The Alchemist?

2007-08-23T07:06:00.000-07:00

I read "Stardust" to Safra* today. That's because I am 1). A sucker for uncanny love stories, 2). I'm "dried" (go figure when a mom says this) 3). I am a sucker for uncanny love stories.

Stardust has always been my favourite love story. A classic literature bait for a pure Piscean like me. Throw in a male freak, (example: a werewolf, Severus Snape or Norman Bates), blur and lost on who actually deserves his love, an egoistic fallen star, some other mad cuckoo characters and a long trip which takes more than a year. Oh, speaking of adventure and journey, we also have Coelho's The Alchemist. But still, I liked Stardust better. Gaimen or no Gaimen.

Stardust - the movie I trust will reach us soon. I am not sure if Claire Danes will make a convincing arrogant fallen star. But let's give it a try. Like letting Daniel Radcliffe act in the play 'Equus" and be surprised with the result. Who would have thought he could convincingly acted like he enjoy killing horses?

Sorry Sheperd Boy. I vouch for Tristan Thorn any day.

* A curious female infant laying on my lap.

Nursafra

2007-08-18T05:55:00.000-07:00

I am currently resting at home. Tired to the core,looking pretty yellow with a long C-mark just below my belly. The result? Nursafra. A megababe standing at 51 cm, weighing a mere 3.5 kilo with a toothless smile every now and then.Oh, with a killer yowl too. Cute.

I did not expect to deliver my first baby via C-section but it was an emergency decision. Safra stuck her big head just right between my pelvic bones and I can't push her out. Almost 2 days of contractions, I 've lost all my energy during the first phase and all I got from the doctor was "OS : 3 cm".

I did not cry during the contractions nor all the injections or what nots,I cried when they pushed me to the Operation Theater. I was damn worried about my baby. The doktor pakar was explaining about how my baby might suffer from fetal distress if kept longer in the womb. She needed to be delivered immediately through operation.

Safra came out at around 5.48 pm on 07.08.07, sucking her left hand in a tight knob, after crying her best loud. The surgeons and doctors were explaining to me about how I have a double tear on both sides of my abdomen to released Safra's head or the fact that Safra 's almost suffocated.I didn't hear a single thing. My feelings were beyond any existing vocabulary. She was safe and doing fine, that was all that matter.

On the third day in the ward, she got jaundice. Normal for 8 out of 10 newborns to get jaundice. However, Safra's blood test showed that we need to extend our stay at HKL for another few days. Her Riboflavin' s reading was high.

Alhamdulillah, all that are now behind me. More, I am sure, to come in the next few years-sleepless nights, chicken pox, wounded knees or muddy small feets on my celebrated shiny floors. Oh, but what the hell.

To those who helped me in the labor room and OT, thanks for the patience and persistent expertise. Sorry if I asked so many questions during the operation. Told you, you should give me a GA.

To the mothers whose babies, Safra had non-purposedly lured into an all night choir performance, I am so so sorry. I had a bad time trying to convince her we don't need her to sing us, mommies to sleep during those trying nights.

To a lonely mother I came to know at K5 HKL, I hope she' s doing well with her baby and I pray that the man who put her into such predicament will face the music A.S.A.P.

To the underground movement against full breast-feeding at the hospital of which impressed me during my stay at the hospital, let me see if I can suggest some recommendations to the Ministry when I 'm back in office.

To Union Guy, thanks for the final Harry Potter hard cover. I finished it on the morning that Safra was discharged from K5.And oh, even the doctors were asking me about the ending. ;-)

Kidding. Actually it should be thanks for being there. My babbling self was overwhelmed by the whole experience, so maybe less is INDEED more.

To Nursafra, THANK YOU. Ibu loves you. You rock!

Iraq 's the Champ

2007-07-30T05:04:00.000-07:00

Forget Zidane's head butt at the World Cup Finale or that MYTEAM is starting its second season with a surreal ambition to thrash Indonesian team this October. Right now, its all about IRAQ.

With almost EVERY single player polished their soccer skills with the Arab Soccer League, away from their homeland, with every single player having to balance both the grief over losing their family members in the war and also the pressure on the field to grab the AFC Cup, Iraq showed potential which put other Asian countries in the competition to shame.

As other countries showed either brilliant improvement over the years (Vietnam seemed to play better soccer than US) or consistency (Saudi Arabia in the Finals again? Yawn!) in the AFC, Malaysia is anything but improvement (Well, you could say they are consistent in losing matches). Want to blame the coach? Oh, c'mon, does this mean if only we could afford Pele or Maradona, then would we be up for a good Malaysian soccer team? We ditched Viera who used to trained our youth players and look who has the last laugh.

Another funny part about the live telecast yesterday is how our commentators were not able to put Iraq's victory into perspective. I remember one of them saying" Kalau Iraq boleh memperbaiki mutu bola sepak mereka, mengapa tidak mereka memperbaiki pentadbiran mereka?" Doh !

Well, congrats to Iraq and yes, I am still pregnant.

Expecting, expected and expectations

2007-07-18T19:08:00.000-07:00

The bothersome part about having a blog is the fact that you have to write. And it created a more acute sydrome of bothersome when you are expected to write "consistently". Expectation such as this shows that there are people reading your blog. Perhaps, the entries of readers comments in my blog gave you all the impression "Who the hell reads your blog? Comments showed you were interacting with "a" person for more than once and got 5 comments for that...sheesh,"but surprise, surprise, there are actually people who read my written ramblings.

I am currently getting rounder and heavier. I am due on the 30th this month and excited+scared as hell now because anytime from now, my baby girl will pop her head out and say "ibu rocks!". Meanwhile, I have been briefing my baby about stuffs happening outside the womb. Union Guy in his blurrest stage of blurness, is always asking me why am I talking to myself. He forgets the fact that there is a third life being called "our daughter" inside me. Dads, ayah, abahs, whatever...they are the least imaginative autonomous unit in a family.

What kinda stuffs I told her?

1. I told her that Malaysia is a secular state. Even if Najib or Dr. M and the whole bunch of boring politicians cut their wrist or burn themselves ala expressionist artists to prove their point that Malaysia is an Islamic State, nothing can change that. Maybe we have a majority number of Muslims in the country, but hold on, that's the kind of official info we get from the Registration Department, even that fact is very much disputable nowadays. Yes, Islam is the Official Religion of the Land but then, that's IT. Its role and function as the Official Religion of the Land is limited to personal matters of the Muslims of the Land such as family matters. The notion of " Islamic State" propogates by "some" ruling party figures and "some" Opposition party figures are merely political agenda.

2. I also told her that "Nuri" has outlived its presence and performance as one of our military's prime air transportation eons ago. With a record number of crash and people deceased, this is not the time to lament on live TV that " We have no choice but to use Nuri all these years". The annual budget for Defence, if I am not mistaken, hold the biggest allocation next to Education. If we could afford to buy other hi-tech defence equipments or submarines (Ops, have we ever bought submarines, I could be OSA-ed for this like our dear rocking Nat), why can't part of the allocation used to replace our ancient "Nuris"?

3. Last but not least, I told her "No, you can get pregnant even if you make out in the swimming pool because there is no such thing as the chlorine can kill off the sperms. Or that when you jump up and down after having sex, that could also prevent pregnancy. Further details about some other myths about sex, here.

I am currently resting and trying to be calm and happy most of the time. My mother and "Atah", my kick-ass grandma will be coming to my house next week to assist me throughout my confinement period. Untill then all I can say is : "what a chaotic world we live in".

On being a mother

2007-07-05T22:03:00.000-07:00

I was sitting alone, holding a 4001 slip, giving myself a mental pat on the back for arriving first at the Klinik Ibu & Kanak-Kanak. I decided to get my antenatal check-up at a government clinic near to my housing area. Well, if any of you have been to a government clinic before, you could picture yourself the congested narrow waiting halls, sounds of babies wailing, and nurses attending to patients right under your nose. And oh! The pungent smell of medicine poking your nostril. Then, after a while, “4002” arrived, in the form of a tired looking Malay lady, dressed in a sleeveless long dress with batik motifs whilst her beefy shoulder was covered in a tight white t-shirt worn inside her dress. I offered a smile and greeted her with a monotonous “hi”. It’s 8.00 a.m in the morning and I rarely am my chirpy self until say, the next three hours. She on the other hand, was in her element of chirpiness straight away. She complained about the traffic. I nodded my head absent mindedly. She told me about her teething eldest daughter. I nodded my head again. Wait! Did she say “teething” in the same sentence with “eldest daughter”?

“How old is your eldest daughter?” I know it took me another few hours to be in my investigative mood but I just need to know, now.

“11 months” She answered back. I gave a nod and returned to my former self. She on the other hand, felt the need to prolong the conversation.

“My hubby, he wants a son and told me, `ayang, lepas pantang, kita bikin satu lagi ye, mana tau, dapat anak lelaki`, so, you know, as a wife, I can’t say “no” to him,”

“Of course, you can”, I shouted in my mind. I gave a polite smile while my brain formulated 1001 questions; what’s wrong with having a baby girl? Why jump into Baby No.2 so soon? Why can’t you just say NO and let him live with that? Social stigma or maybe cultural manifestation of women as a “machine” to mass produce?

I shook my head in a lame attempt to make me more alert. It seemed as for today, I need to work on my mental prowess a bit earlier. Oh no.

“Kalau tak dapat anak lelaki... katalah tup-tup akak dapat anak perempuan jugak,” I hoped she didn’t say “then, we try again,” But tough luck, Gee. She said just that. Her calm submission to the fact was rather creepy. But I proceeded to listen to her story, neutrally. As a new found friend: she was 4002 and I was 4001.

The fierce looking nurse called my name, waving a long syringe in my direction. Needle time. So, I said “later” to her and walked off.

When I was done with my session, I walked out and saw her still sitting at the same spot, perhaps waiting for further check-up. She looked very tired, a bit haggard for a lady of his age. She looked like she didn’t get enough sleep last night. I wondered whether she had to wake up all by herself, each time her baby cried at night while her husband, grumbled something like “go and have a look at our baby…I need rest for work, tomorrow” and continued to snore albeit the loud wailing. Man, I wondered.

I waved at her and told her that I was done. She just frowned and complained that the nurses were damn slow and she needed to get back home quickly to check on her daughter. She stood up, almost wobbling on her swollen feet, and walked rather slowly towards the nurse at the counter. I wondered with her second child, potentially waking her up at night and requiring extra attention from her, how will she ever find the time and strength to attend to her daughter’s needs? I remember her telling me, she had to quit her job and concentrate on her daughter plus the soon-to-arrive baby. I need not ask if money is a problem because she was quick to add that money is an issue but she cannot cope with her job while taking care of her children at the same time. I also don’t remember her mentioning her husband in the conversation at all except on the point where her husband is adamant that they should proceed with their next addition/edition to the family soon after her confinement ended. What happen to “susah senang kita bersama”; the overrated mantra couples recite during courting days when the moon and stars were their reluctant witnesses?

I had encountered similar story as an undergrad i.e. as a curious student trying to understand women‘s issues regarding reproductive rights for my Gender and Law assignment. My attitude at that time was scholarly and my approach to the issue was more theoretical than anything else. The difference now is that, I am listening to such story as a woman and a mother myself. It obviously impacted on me in a different way compared to my campus years.

I saw Union Guy arrived at the lobby and knew it was time to head home. In the car, I asked him this question, out of curiosity,

“When do you think we should have the second baby…or you know, if we ever want another one?” Union Guy joked with me, once that he was looking forward to at least 8 children. He gave me a weird look plus that infamous frown of his and held my hand.

“I think let’s just focus on one first and see how it goes, okay?” I put my head on his shoulder and sighed in relief.

Here’s another story about being a mother, but with a little twist.

Minimum Wage: Manufacturing Consent or Politics of Desperation?

2007-07-04T17:42:00.000-07:00

It seems that “Legislate Minimum Wage Now!” is the new “mantra” for MTUC nowadays. Having a public campaign on minimum wage is an honorable attempt. But common, I guess to the culture of civil society in Malaysia, “wage war first and engage later” is the strategy of the day. We forget the fact that just as important as getting the call for minimum wage in Malaysia realized by the State, the process of engaging and consulting grassroots concerned is much more important. There is a reason, so I see, for U.K for example to invest its precious 10 years into public engagement and campaign before producing a solid proposal for minimum wage to the government. If I am the government of the day, I would point a finger at MTUC with a smirk in my face and say “Et tu, MTUC?”

Why the sarcasm? Somebody may ask. It’s simply because for ages, civil society in Malaysia has been fighting for a legitimate space for grassroots to be engaged in State’s decision making process. We demand for the “trickling down” effect so that policy making wouldn’t seemed like an exclusive process that negates the voice of the people. The problem now is this: Since early 2000, when MTUC launched its demand for minimum wage, have any of us, layman heard of any sort of social engagement or consultation with workers themselves about this pressing issue? Apparently not. So, don’t you think “2 x 5 “seemed appropriate to describe this?

We know that MTUC is fighting for minimum wage, but on what basis, what itty gritty facts of life or constructive arguments, that remains to be seen. A quick visit to MTUC’s website revealed a somewhat brief attempt at research on this topic which consists of a comparative study on the different levels of salaries paid to workers based on demographic factor. Would that be good enough a proposal to earn a full attention from the government on how serious MTUC is in lobbying for minimum wage or would that be “real” enough to demonstrate the workers actual plight for better wage in Malaysia.

So I say don’t blame the government if they perceive MTUC’s demand as a political ploy to grab attention. Not that I support the government’s stand either. It’s just that I feel both government and civil society have more often than not, forget that the very essence of the conduct of their action for social justice lies with the voice of the powerless whom they claimed they are representing. The fact that the public was not allowed or not given the opportunity to participate in the process is a major failure itself. Oh sure, we could go out and picket now to fight for the issue. But pickets by the workers would no longer be seen as a weapon which manifest the strength of the workers support, but merely a "media event" if not accompanied by a strong proposal for minimum wage which is constructed from the people's true experience and hopes.

It is common for decision makers or community leaders to think that they know what’s best for the people they are representing. But again, its all are mere perception if what they think they know is the product of their “wise” assumption and not “actual” assessment.

Other voices on this issue:

1.A guy exploring this issue from the "competitiveness standpoint".

2.Union Guy's first writing and it's on minimum wage issue.

Campus Land for Sale!

2007-06-13T03:24:00.000-07:00

It seems that the State feels making campuses in Malaysia undemocratic and subject to draconian control is not enough. Hey, let's even sell the land and relocate the institution!

I know that as compared to the 70s, UM 's reputation has been reduced from a university which ignited student's social and political movement to an institution infested with billboards idolizing government leaders. But still, I love my alma mater. I don't want it to be relocated to Sepang!

Read the news here.

Lina oh Lina...

2007-06-10T05:34:00.000-07:00

The way of love is not a subtle argument.
The door there is devastation.
Birds make great sky-
circles of their freedom.
How do they learn it?
They fall, and
falling they’re given wings.

-Jalaluddin Rumi

I have really abandon this new blog. Work and flu,two depressing elements in my life now, really kept me away from me blog.

And then, there's Lina.

Well, I didn't rush to my PC straight away after the COA announced its decision. I was stuck with 30 plus hardcore women activists, feminists or social workers, discussing the next direction my organization should take in confronting women rights issues. But in the end, everybody wants to talk about Lina. The reaction was of course, pretty mixed. Some said Lina should not court her demands, that was why it is inviting controversies. Some said she was asking for trouble, the "label" Islam in one's IC does not signify anything, anymore. Very few, in soft voices, thought that Lina is going through all the trouble because she wanted to be honest with herself. At peace with herself.

On Monday, the next week, I was called for an interview with an international human rights organization. The same question about Lina, was posed by the panel of interviewers. Lina, again. I told the interviewer, I kinda expected the question. "Then, you are ready to answer my question," He said with a hint of smile. I said "Not exactly. I ponder about this kind of problem everyday,"

Back in office, after a long concocted story of why I was away for the whole morning (which did not at all touched on the interview...hehehe), my supervisor told me that I need to initiate a programme targeting religious people and establishments. The aim would be to reconcile the society's understanding of Islam and human rights. I could almost read "freedom of religion" between the lines. I could also imagine Lina, sitting on her own, unknown amongst the audience, during my programme. A week after Lina Joy's decision hit the public, the urge to write something about the decision grew stronger.

Yes, Lina Joy is not perfect. By Islamic term, she's a "murtad". A renouncer of Islam. Yes, she also made a difficult (or stupid, as some of us thought) decision to make her status publicly known. Now, her freedom of conscience becomes a technically legalistic argument. But, isn't Islam in Malaysia has been reduced to a mere technical matter?

In the Constitution, Islam becomes a comatose existence. It is one of the prerequisites for one to officially hold the title "Malay". The document states Islam is the religion of the land. But what does it mean, anyway? Again, technical.

I know Islam requires a system to work. A framework to materializes its existence as away of life. But is there any point of having a system which does not co-exist with its believers constant battle with social issues, personal questions about life and God or changes which require in-depth study or reinterpretation. It is now a system which stand tall to words or action which go against Islam. But perhaps, it was never meant to pose the big "?" over why people doubt Islam or why people lost faith in Islam. What a shame. I met people with these kind of questions everyday. Not because they hate Islam. It is because as human beings, they are independent units with mind and feelings. They can never escape these questions, as far as I see it.

It's like this old house I frequent every day on my way to work. Strong and majestic. I bet it had withstand the test of weather and other natural ordeals. But the house seemed like a ghost. Empty. Abandoned. Its "For Sale/Rent" sign is rotting away among the tall grass in front of the old house. It might stayed on for another 10 or 20 years to come. But without owners or occupants. Cold and lonely.

I hope that is not ISLAM.

Sex Education 101

2007-05-29T01:05:00.000-07:00

A colleague forward these excerpts from a German text book on sex education. I am not sure whether the book is the official text book, supplementary or whatever. Its definitely "Sex Education 101".

Blatant truth? But blatant or not, it is the truth. A man and a
woman (or more than one man and woman) make babies. Uncomfortable truth? The fact that the pictures depict sexual intercourse or the fact there are pictures after all?

Pictures tell ALL. Do we want it to tell ALL or not?

P/S- Part of my work now is to look into children textbooks. Cool...but at times, shocking!

P/P/S- Been very busy lately, that i really hope I won't by chance, give birth on the way to my programmes or in the conference rooms.

I think I’m Muslim, therefore I’ m Melayu?

2007-05-17T19:00:00.000-07:00

“Baca, baca artikel aku pasal Islam Melayu!” Isham Rais, the raw organic talent powerhouse of social and political critiques (laced with black comedies and tongue-in-the-cheek retorts) urged us sleepyheads (It was after 1 am at that time) to read his latest article. It was my first time at Bau Bau and my first reunion with a bunch of close friends since coming back from Scotland.

Isham broke his record for getting 142 comments from readers for this piece. Well, that’s how you get large number of hits on your blog, I guess. Put Islam and Melayu in one sentence. That will definitely give our society a deafening wake up call. (Or...errr...put also "murtad" and/or "dadah" in the same sentence).

Like what happened at Union Guy’s work place months ago. A young guy openly declared to his fellow colleagues that he no longer embraced Islam. He had converted to Christianity. Let’s not delved into the reasons why he thought its fine to declare that to his friends. I am more interested with his friends and employer’s reaction. The obvious happened. They boycotted him and his declaration won him a transfer to another branch with immediate effect. Before he was transferred, a heated debate took place between this “infidel” and his fellow “defenders of Islam”.

Among the issue he raised was he had doubts about some of Islam’s rules, citing polygamy as one example. I thought an interesting debate would ensue on how Muslims approach polygamy but of course, that only happened in my wet dream. His friends, angered by his so called blasphemous arguments, answered back with something like this: “Hoi, kasilah kitaorg *toot* bini ngan anak perempuan ko, kalu ko dah benci sangat dengan poligami!” And that answer which is so close of being the dumbest answer in the history of inter-faith debate, of course failed to help both sides reconciled. The young guy got intimidated by the outburst and withdrew. The others vented out their anguish to Union Guy, “Aku kalau dia ni minum todi, tido dengan perempuan, berjudi takpe lagi, jangan keluar agama, sudah, buat malu org Melayu je.”

Oh, macam itu ke?

To me, the ones who are embarrassing the Muslims are these people. Do they think ALL Muslims do not have questions about what it takes to be a better Muslim? My God, it’s like the Cartesian Duality question, pondered by philosophers for ages, questions about existence of God or religion has always been there. Muslims or not.

I for one, always have these questions wandering in my mind: What does it takes to be a better Muslim every day. Pray? Help each other no matter whom? Less shopping? Less activity of mengumpat? Contrary to how we, Muslims, think, being a Muslim is not straight forward but a very bumpy journey. Iman Al-Ghazali would not have produced Tahaful Al-Falasifa or Ihya’ul Ulumuddin, without first, seeking the answers to his doubts about his existence, about his religion. These outstanding works was produced by a man who struggled so hard in his life, perfecting his conscience and beliefs in his faith, every day. Similarly like the young guy that denounced Islam earlier, he had some doubts about his faith but nobody bothered to listen. Apparently, it is much more important for them to lead him towards a speedy repentance and save Melayu some face.

Touché Islam Melayu!

Coming back to Isham’s article, the only reservation I have was his agreement for mosques to be built for Chinese Muslims. My problem with this is not because I wanted all mosques in Malaysia to project Melayu-ness + Arab-risqué quality only. But for this one particular reason.

Our country had tremendously suffered as a polarized society and our political, economic and social historical landscape has witnessed great racial divide. Hence the fear, that by setting up separate institutions such as this, it will only encourage further divide. We are so comfortable with our pre-determined place (re: NEP, Federal Constitution) in the society that should we allow for separate mosques to be built; we might agree that Islam could also be a tool for social divide. It’s the existing mosques that actually need to be reformed. It’s the Muslims that need to be more compassionate and spread the love.

Don’t simply buy new cloths just because you can’t fit in the old ones. Lose your weight.

Sewing Machines Can't Buy My Democracy

2007-05-10T03:21:00.000-07:00

Today I met a friend for lunch who grumbled on about Opposition’s lost in Ijok. She’s one of the volunteer for the by-election, helping out the Opposition candidate, to be exact.

I recalled the by-election in amusement. I thought Ijok was a yesterday’s story and after a few jokes on sewing machine and tractors[1], I said this to her

“That’s yesterday news, babe. Buat apa nak dikenang?”

But of course, being directly involved in the process, she can’t simply push aside the incidents that took place during the election. She needed to reminisce and get sentimental about the tragedy that befall Ijok. She knew that it’s harmless to bitch about both the Opposition and Ruling Government to me because I don’t trust partisan politics at all. Statistically put, I might be ticked off as “potentially a gone case” if the BN or Opposition canvassing volunteer conduct their voters survey.

To wait for five years before making a statement about how shitty your country is, is… well…shitty. I dedicate this to those who I absent-mindedly referred to as election junkies. I know some would say, that is better than just becoming part of the silent apathetic majority (SAMs) who didn’t’ care at all. I say that’s wrong. That’s even worse because you put your faith on democracy on a once-in-every-five-year event which later , will only cements the powers that be’s political existence in the system, whilst the SAMs do not waste their time on hoping AT ALL. We might think that one nice fat cross on the ballot paper will ensure that democracy will be alive and kicking. The sad news is, democracy will not survive but rather in state of dying for the next five years before it will be put on the stage show again for a political drama. With such vicious cycle, election would become a dictation. Pilihanraya then will be “Takde Pilihan”

Like I said “Buat apa nak dikenang?” Bring out your pen or painting brush, write or draw democracy today. Raise your hand in the lecture hall and scared the shit out of your lecturer with some open-ended questions, and resurrect democracy on campus again. Dumped your abusive husband the next time he hits you, and teach him that in a democratic marriage, he has to learn to accept a “No” for answer. Stop telling your kids what you want them to be/do and let them own their own space and self.

“My..my...aren't preggies preachy...” My tensed friend retorted after I told her that I would rather believe the fact that I can lose my weight tomorrow than believing that change can only come through electoral process. Power might transit. But quality of society would be just as stagnant if we think democracy works once in every five years.

Lagi kelakar when a friend declared that he can’t wait for the next election to perform his “undi rosak” ritual. See? To be "civilly disobedient" also must wait for the next election ka? Don’t make David Henry Thoreau weeplah geng!

[1] Ijok now could potentially be the constituency with the most number of sewing machines in Malaysia, while at the same time, witness the first ever tractor convoy in the country that could put the Volkswagen’s Club to shame. Tsk tsk.

Don't play the racial cards with me, dear...

2007-05-08T19:01:00.000-07:00

“So how? Want to go or not?”

Union Guy asked me for the umpteenth time. He received a sms about a free voucher for a 2 nights 3 days stay at any of the SG Hotel in Kuantan, Damai Laut or KL, which need to be collected today at a mall in PJ.

I, on the other hand, never believed in all these free stuff smses. The only free thing in the world that I recognized is my mom’s wrath and my wide toothy grin.

But being a very optimistic person who had braved through many stupid things, I said okay and agreed to go. The worse thing that could happen to me and Union Guy is we have to endure lectures on the importance of joining a vacation club and how that would strengthen our husband-wife relationship. Well, on that point all I can say is been there, done that.

True to my premonition, a young chubby guy welcomed us at the entrance, took us in and started gearing into the importance of going for vacations, to be able to see the world…bla…bla…the whole work. My brain went on screaming “Shut up! Shut up!” for the whole 45 minutes as he tried his damndest best to convince us into joining the vacation club. When I asked him back, “How much is the fee to be a member?” He quickly called his manager, explaining to us that only his manager can explain to us about fees and payments as he is not authorized to do so. Oh, so he is the product ambassador. Cheh! Not attractive at all.

A woman, in her mid-thirties with a business like smile approached us. Then, the following conversation took place;

“ Ala, dik, murah je dik. Take this as an investment, kalau adik ambik Full Platinum Membership, baru RM20,000..”

Mak oii. The fried rice I ‘ve just walloped felt like coming out. RM20, 000? Was she nuts? Do we look like a couple with RM20, 000 to spend on a vacation membership? Correction. Do we look like a couple with RM20, 000 in our banks?

Seeing our looks of horror, she went in for the kill. She explained that we could pay the fee in installments. I could see RM in her eyes.

‘Err…kami datang sini pasal nakkan voucher percuma tu je.”

I tried honesty. It works sometimes.

“Takkan nak voucher je kot, dik? Ambiklah membership satu,”

She’s a seasoned sales woman from the looks of it. We might be drawn to her convincing marketing style. That was, until the following words erupted from her mouth…

“Nilah orang Melayu, tengok kene keluar duit banyak sikit, dah terkejut, dah panic. Tak pandai nak menilai kualiti. Kalau org Cina, India, senang je nak jual”.

Ewah, ewah. This woman wanted to play racial card with me now. Where did she get her marketing skill training from? A Birotatanegara Camp?

That really did it. Not because I am insulted that she thought me being a Malay, I am therefore

a). Stingy

b). No money

c). All above.

I am offended with the fact that she characterizes people. Making free judgments that people are willing to sacrifice their RM20K based on their race. I can tell her how many of my grandma’s Hokkien neighbors in Kuala Kangsar would shake their head in disapproval to this vacation membership because they need the money for food, kid’s education or a better house. Or how Indian plantation workers are only getting a raise which is less that RM2 for working like modern slaves. But that wouldn’t matter to her at all, I bet. She further hinted that we prefer to pay the full sum for a lousy hotel like The First World Hotel which quality-wise is similar to her toilet at home, rather than getting discounts with the membership she is offering. (P/S: If her toilet has AC, carpets and room service, why is she working HERE?)

I shook my head and concluded that she is just plain cruel when she got disappointed. She is not playing the racial card to win a by-election or to get tenders. She is just a mean old woman, frustrated that her Malay counterparts are not helping her in getting more commissions for the business.

But I and Union Guy would not want to give her a hard time. And we don’t talk about class or wealth distribution at 6.30 pm in the evening. I just said that I couldn’t afford the membership even though I and Union Guy had traveled to UK, Europe, India, and Canada, Korea, Indonesia, Cambodia, Bangkok and some other places. We also normally didn’t stay at posh hotels during our travel. Either we bunk in with our friends or stayed at hostels. He looked at Union Guy’s faded work uniform in disbelief. Yeah, yeah, we know…we don’t have hip cloths too.

She just handed us the free voucher and shook our hands briskly.

Thank god, the voucher was after all “free”.

Moral of the story:
Do not wear your ugly work uniform (if it’s ugly), when you want to convince people that you have been abroad. Kidding. What I actually learned is that racial card is always on the table, played by politicians or even we, the laymen; in pursue of personal interest and profit. It just gets a notch sadder when we ordinary folks also succumbed to such “poker game”.

Homegrown with a Pulitzer? We wish!

2007-05-08T00:38:00.000-07:00

“Woit, look here, anak Malaysia won the Pullitzer”.

I looked at the news. I commended on her courage in exposing the injustice in China and applauded the Wall Street Journal for recognizing her talent from the start.

So, what’s next?

We are amazed by the number of Malaysians showing their true talents abroad with prestigious organizations, bodies or even celebrities (Remember the Beckham scandal?). But I for one wonders, why abroad? What’s wrong with being the best in what you do, over here in Malaysia but gained international reputation or awards for doing so, abroad?

Pramoedya Ananta Toer didn’t get his work translated into hundreds of languages because he studied at MIT or has a "kerusi" in Oxford. He lived in exile in his own country, creating masterpieces in Indonesia but being heralded by the international literary world.

So, what’s wrong? My bet would be that if Fong Foong Mei is to expose the injustice taking place among the migrant workers in Malaysia, she might get the Pullitzer but not before getting banned, harassed or even detained for security reasons first. For that, she could even bag the Nobel Prize. Far from being envious but rather, proud with her achievement, I am questioning the reason of why our homegrown talents could not flourish here, on our local soil? Could it be because Malaysia suppresses creativity to the T, that our talents have no choice but to flee and seek opportunities abroad? And Malaysia, a country that enjoys cataloguing Malaysian born achievers located anywhere in the world, would find this new discovery an asset to show off that Malaysia Boleh!

Of course, people like Yasmin Ahmad, is a homegrown talent who gained international respect and recognition through her cinematic achievement. But look at what she had to endure locally? Ocean of tears? Censorship Board having a blast snipping her films? Or the so-called old timers who felt that they are the ones who determined the face of Malaysian film industry? Of course, she could have suffered the same predicament in other countries, but I guess the greatest challenge for her to step out and become the person she is now in Malaysia, is to defy the local people’s state of mind who are constantly judging her work with a conservative outlook.

For that matter, we would forever be expanding our necks into other countries, seeking Malaysian born prodigies in Hollywood, football stadiums or media giants, perhaps to decorate them with titles like Datuk or Dato’, whilst at the same time ignoring the cry for more space and freedom for our own homegrown talents to bloom.

What can I say? That is soo Malaysian!

Goodnight, Trotsky!

2007-05-07T23:46:00.000-07:00

i. BEFORE ARRIVAL

“Can they stay over…say on the 4^th and 5^th?”

Two unionists from Australia will be coming to Malaysia for an exposure trip. Two Trotskyites, as my friend, explain. I imagine two Australian screaming “Down with Capitalism” in red pajamas, punching the air aggressively with their left fist, before retiring to bed.

“Oh, sure,”

I could take any Marxists, Anarcho-syndicalist or Emo-ists in, anytime they need a clean decent bed for the night. If they can understand the fact that;

a). My house is situated in a very Malay-condensed area. So far, people that visited our new home seemed to defy the accepted schema of “kawan orang-orang Melayu”. They must be able to be relaxed in a surrounding where my neighbors would pretend to wash their cars REALLY late at night just to have a glimpse at our foreign visitors. Kepochi.[1]

b). My house reflects opposing themes and can we say, tastes acquired by both me and Union Guy. It’s like a person suffering from bipolar having second thoughts about how to decorate the house ALL the time. Far from being a house congested with exotic materials collected from our journeys abroad or pop art wall hangings of Che Guevera; it’s a plain layman house with stacks of Archies, IKEAS catalogues and old receipts and bills. But of course, if we have the time, we could take out our lefty books and spread the stuffs on the floor of our dining hall or carelessly hid one or two behind the sofa‘s throw to project our “lefti-ness”, but that would be like betraying our “comrades”, wouldn’t it? So, there we have it, hardly a house which resonates spirits of proletariat struggle or reflects two people with a penchant for activism staying together to raise future freedom fighters. Err unfortunately…nope. I am afraid that after their shout of “Down with Capitalism!” they will have to retire themselves to a sofa bed bought at IKEA, a multinational capitalist company.

ii. AFTER ARRIVAL

I could see the shock in their eyes. I guess they are not expecting to stay over at a Muslim’s house. The guy didn’t even offer his hand to shake mine. I take it as a show of respect to the fact that I am clad in my scarf. I offered mine and gave his hand a good shake. I pondered; there are many other leftists, socialists or unionists with good homes in Lembah Klang that could offer a nice comfy room for these peoples? Why us?

The Petai-Eyed, our labour activist friend explained earnestly, “Well, they want to stay in the homes of really ordinary people who have normal jobs and have family, not full fledged activists.” Oh sure. Me and Union Guy are damn normal. We named the mice that frequent our trash cans to just be friendly to them. Yeah, I am okay with my singular/plural grammatical rules. Not a mouse but we are talking about a couple of mice, here.

Well, as planned, they stayed over at our house for two nights. We get to chat a lot and learned a great deal about what it meant to live the ways we chose as opposed to preconceived text book notions. I mean everybody could read Trotsky, Marx or own stacks of communist materials in their house, but to breath soul and give meaning to these ideals. That’s a different story, eh?

By the way, Union Guy and I do not own a single t-shirt bearing the iconic Che Guevera not because we don’t appreciate his struggle for world reform, but we don’t want to be mistaken by the public as a fan of Rage against the Machine’s lead singer.[2]

The Australian unionists are heading up north, to Bangkok today. Well, thanks to them, I discovered that

a). It wasn’t a pair of red pajamas, more like undies. Don’t ask how and why.

b). And I can keep my sofa bed with pride.

[1] Busybody. With capital B.

[2] I was in UM in 2001 and asked a fellow coursemate,” Do you know the name of the person on your T-shirt” while pointing at the typical Che Guevera pose with his infamous beret. He answered, “Yeah. It’s Rage against the Machine’s lead singer”. Humiliating is an understatement.