Out with the old, in with the new...

Or is it out with the new, in with the old.

Many people might simply just give up.

Anisah, 6 February, 0:00 (+8GMT)

People want politics to work for them.  Not politicians politicking to warm the seat of governance.

Health caution: the following might well be a satire of animals on a farm.

There was a pack of hyenas, one young heir to the pack decided to voluntarily be interred into domestic services.  He donned the collar so to speak, towed the line, fetched when he was told, lapped up the food in his bowl.  After a while, the life that was left behind seemed to offer greener pastures.  It was more free.  He managed to persuade the other domestic canines to revolt and leave.  Some were genuinely persuaded by the equality in the New Republic of Canines that they wanted to build.  Others felt that he would make a good leader of the pack, living up to his destiny when he was once heir apparent of the hyenas. 

Many other domestic animals were also persuaded by the ideals in the New Republic.  Indeed, many of the N.R.'s principles and practices were indeed what should have been, but never came to being.  All those who became willing citizens of N.R. were jubilant.  However, N.R.'s survival is still very much rocky at best.  So the new President, riding the wave of his high approval ratings, began a vigorous campaign to persuade by all means more animals who have not migrated from the Old Country to join him in the N.R. 

The farm animals in the Old Country began to feel threatened by all these new activities.  They could also not come to terms with the high uptake of N.R. by some former O.C. subjects.  By now, the O.C. knew something had to be done soon because there are already puppies, kittens, ducklings, kids, etc., who are born-citizens of N.R., those brave-new-world individuals who were never tainted by the baggage of the O.C. 

Very soon, it became tit-for-tat.  N.R. technocrats are trying their best to entice their former colleagues from the O.C. to join them.  Not to be outdone, the O.C's tried even harder to stop this brain-drain and also to recruit those new-born N.C. baby-boomers.  By then, most of the odinary farm animals in the New Republic; the chickens, the ducks, the buffaloes, had begun to see themselves as less equal among their canine leaders.  Some begin to realise that life in the Old Country might be slightly better.  Disappointment sets in.  Some animals from amongst the ducklings, the kids, the foals, including some of the aged ducks, goats, cows and horses who were disagreeable with the canine leadership began to plan for life without canines in the future.  Almost every animal is holding its breath, wishing, praying that these new breed would succeed and finally implement the New Republic that had remained elusive until now. 

Meanwhile, the canines and their former colleagues are still fighting it out over a bowl of spoiled feed.

An inspiration, but potentially not miraculous.
Anisah
19 January 2009, 23:05, +8GMT

Less than 24 hours away from Barack Obama's inauguration as USA's 44th president, and first black president (to be definitionally correct, non-white, mixed-race), many non-Americans, Muslims especially put their hopes on Obama for a more just American policy in the Middle East.  As the hour approaches, I could feel that these people around me are feeling scekptical, disillusioned and distraught (not necessarily in that progressional order!) that it would be the 'same old, same old'.   They would like to think that with a closer connection to Muslims in both his family and his travels, he would be unlike previous adminstrations who had been unwavering in their support of Zionist Israel.  His press conferences until now have not proven that.  Some say that the White House has merely changed colours. 

This is not an apologist article in support for Obama.  This is also not a refutation of the growing sceptism and very plausible disillussion that will follow, at least on the Middle Eastern front.  This is a call to the sceptics and the disillusioned to understand American politics and society.  This is also a call to appreciate what an Obama victory could do to inspire American societies and non-American societies. 

Understanding American politics and society.
Obama is elected by American citizens to be an American president.  He is not the president of Malaysia, or Qatar, or Egypt, or Pakistan, or Kenya, or any other country.  That is a fact.  He would be untrue to his country, which is the United States of America if as president, he does not serve American interests, even if those interests might not be the mutual interests of Malaysia, Qatar, etc.  If American interests are pro-Zionist, no matter how non-Americans dislike it, and Obama's adminstration remains pro-Zionist, or not antagonistic to Zionists, he would still be a good American president.  That is another fact.

American politics and society are such that it allows for political lobbying by interest groups.  American policies are also very tied to what, who and how the successful presidential candidate is funded.  The fact today is that pro-Zionist lobby groups have the money, have the people, and have the networks to secure an upper hand in all echelons of American politics, be it in the Democratic party, or the Republican, or independent candidates. 

This situation is not going to change anytime soon.  In politics, the usual senario is that a new agenda or new direction is rarely adopted, but it is the incumbent status quo which is lost.  So the political dependence of American politicians on pro-Zionist support, and therefore permeable to pro-Zionist persuasions and amicable to pro-Zionist policies are inevitable and more importantly, not going to disappear soon. 

Three years ago, I had a conversation with an American citizen of Arab descent who is a member of the Democratic party.  He has secured some funds to start a lobby group to bring out the issues that Arab-Americans or Muslim Americans are passionate about.  He was disappointed to share, and I am disappointed to know, but we should not be surprised, that his inniatives did not receive enthusiastic support from these very Arab-Americans!  The take-home message from this is that as non-Americans, we could not expect the American president to be passionate about what his fellow Americans are not. 

Does a Malaysian citizen think that it would be fair for the Malaysian prime minister to champion a cause which is contrary to what the majority of Malaysians are very vocally and demonstratively for?  If a Malaysian does not expect his/her Prime Minister to do that, then why is that same person expecting the American president to serve non-American interests?

A binary view
This is another problem with Americans and non-Americans.  "You are either with us or against us."  "This is either all wrong, or all correct."  "America is all bad."  "Americans support Zionists."  "Jews are bad."  "Muslims are bad."  It doesn't take too much intelligence to decipher who said what.  That is not the smoking gun issue.  It is the binary view of things.  People tend to conveniently over-generallised, and this trait has been used (rather misused) by politicians and lobby groups to get what they want. 

The fact is that there are Jews who are opposed to Zionism.  There are Israeli civil rights groups that are fighting for Palestian causes in Israeli courts.  But if one wishes to be elected in Malaysia, would this inconvenient truth be raised at all?  Perhaps in private circles, but never in quotable quotes. 

The fact is that there would not be any pious Muslims who would even quietly approve of the recent Israeli murderous incursions into Gaza, but there are Muslims who whilst disapproving (and condemning) of this Israeli action, who would work with Jewish groups to reduce Muslim-Jewish tension (almost entirely) caused by the more than 60-year Middle East unrest.  But would an American seeking election to public office highlight that? Perhaps in private circles, they could see the injustice to Palestinians, but would they publicly condemn Israel?

Most people, in their zeal to champion what they believe to be right, adopt a very convenient binary view of the other.  It might give one a better sleep at night, but it does not even begin to solve problems. 

Boycotting American consumer products
That is a very good micro-economic sanction which could be done by individual consumers to protest against something they do not wish to directly and indirectly support.  Such tactics have been used, and achieved somewhat success in certain issues.  For example, consumer action against shark's fin soup, or vegetarianism by people against cruelty to animals.  However, not drinking Coca-Cola, or not eating KFC, or not buying Nike shoes are not going to affect American interests or Israeli interests.  They are immediately going to affect the livelihood of Malaysians who are employed in factories in Malaysia producing those products.  When many people are out of jobs, and there many ARE products linked to American interests, what happens to the Malaysian economy?  Many people will not have a salary to purchase anything in the Malaysian economy.  The Malaysian economy will suffer a cold, before the American or Israeli economy even feel like a sneeze is coming!

Uneducated protest methods
A Muslim man from Pahang called into IKIM's radio talkshow (Institut Kefahaman Islam Malaysia) to express his displeasure that religious scholars in Malaysia are wearing lounge suits with the Muslim skullcap (kopiah).  Why wear louge suits?  It's their clothes! 

Opinions like this demonstrate how shallow people see a very complex issue.  It tacitly summarises our collective (non)comprehension of the issue, our uneducated response.  After all such responses and protest methods, when the Palestians still suffer, when the Zionists still murder without fear, we say the Western (America) world is unfair to them?  After Obama's inaguration, we say that Obama did not do anything despite all the hopes?  Who are we to express hope on an American president? This is not to say America's inaction is explicable and hence forgivable.  This is to say that we have not planned and have not done anything that could plausibly turn things round for the Palestinians!

This is also not to say that we should stop hoping that America really does stop its unwavering support of the Zionist state.  This is to say that we should not simply lash out at the American president for not doing anything about it.  This is to say that among other strategies, continuous diplomatic pressures efforts to persuade America should be kept up.

Obama victory an inspiration
Instead of writing off Obama because of what he could not do for Palestinians, why don't we see his election victory as an inspiration for positive civil society movements?  For the believe that in a democracy, a struggle for a more just society is possible?  This is not to say that a (half)black man is in the White House, all African Americans' problems will go away over night, or at the end of Obama's presidency. 

This is to say that it is indeed an inspiration, that less than 50 years, after the American Civil Rights movement, that American citizens of African descent who were denied a vote, who could not even hope to register to become a presidential candidate (not even about winning the Presidency), these people who are still alive today, could in their lifetime see a black man in the White House.  That is an achievement in American society. 

Despite our better hopes, and what a few of us in close circles are freely sharing, that any, and any Malaysian could be a Prime Minister, we don't see that day coming in our lifetime.  No Malaysian law has ever disallowed that.  But an American law within living memory did.  And yet, the same could not be achieved in Malaysia because of inter-ethnic issues.  The majority ethnic group could not accept a member of a non-majority ethnic group in the PM's seat because of nationalistic or religious reasons, or both.  It is not that nationalism and religion is at fault, it is the perception of people who claim to be nationalistic and religious.  Again, a distintion must be clearly stated here, for fear of purposive misinterpretation.  It is not nationalism or religion which are the stumbling blocks, or the faults of this societal deadlock.  It is what and how people think nationalism should be positively manifested, and how religion should be sincerely observed.  Again, nothing wrong with these in themselves.  It is the binary, often simplistic approach to problems and their proposed solutions which are the problems. 

Last word
As I write this, the BBC is showing live pictures of Obama doing some ordinary painting with normal Americans in a homeless shelter in Washington DC.  In the words of the journalist, "On other occassions, this would be the most mundane thing, but this is anything but."  The Civil Rights movement, what Martin Luther King started has enabled Obama to become a president in one generation.  That is how far that country has come since the days of King's non-violent movement to remove an American racist law.  Incidentally, a day before the inaguration is the Martin Luther King day.  White supremacists placed a bomb in a Baptist church in September 1963 which went on to kill four black female children in a church within living memory.  The parishers who survived it are today singing in jubilance for what is going to happen today.  That memory is still very recent.  More than two million Americans, of all colours, will line the two-mile route to the inauguration. 

James Clyburn, the Majority Whip in the House of Representatives and a member of the Congressional Black Caucus Congressman, while being interviewed by Stephen Sackur in BBC's Hardtalk on 19 January 2009, said that (not exact quote) Obama should not have to suffer what the Civil Rights generation had to.  He is where he is today, made possible because of that generation.  His children should not have to suffer what he has to today.  Each generation should strive to make it better for the next.  

An African American man at the Mall interviewed by the BBC journalist said this:  "Obama said that 'I'm an ordinary man, doing an extraordinary thing.  Everything is possible."  How inspirational to any society in the world could that be?  His African American friend beside him said, "It wasn't so long ago we had to sit at the back of the bus.  It wasn't so long ago that we wouldn't be able to walk on this Mall." 

On the 5th of November 2008, while recovering from bronchitis, I wrote this about Obama's election victory, and I still sand by it.

5th November 2008

This is a short entry, a prelude to a longer one.  It's so phenomenal that I need to write this now.  I came in from the doctor's at one o'clock, despite my bronchitis, I postponed my sleep to listen to Obama's victory speech, live.  Fourty odd years after the U.S. gave its African American citizens the vote, a black man is in the White House. Yes, in a country that politics should be colourless, there are still pockets of American voters who could not bring themselves to vote for a black man.  But, they are in the minority.  Good sense has prevailed over time, education, and shared dreams.  I lament the fact that in my own country a Lim Guan Eng or a Sivakumar, could hardly aspire to be the Prime Minister.  African Americans who once lived through being chased like dogs in America lived to see the day when they elect in a black President without any untoward incidence or suggestions of untoward public unrest by politicians.  My admiration for the American people for collectively working towards this.  My hope, my prayers are that in my own country, I will live to see the day when proponents of race-based politics are in a minority and we could vote in the best man, or woman, regardless of ethnicity and religious convictions. 

Tribute to Mini Cat

Anisah
14 January 2009

"timid but very manja"

Mini Cat was called Mini because she looked exactly like mom, Bulu Cat, who is called Cat because of her tricolour tortoise shell coat.  Their only difference was Mini had a stubbier tail with a knot at the end, and mom has a longer, straight and more slender tail.  When she was no longer minute, she was sometimes called Mono. 

Mini was born in a packaging box on the afternoon of 3 March 2008 with her siblings, one who is now called Polo Pau because she looks like the colour of a very tastily baked bun(!) and one other a marmalade who did not survive her first night for she was killed by a feral male cat. Polo Pau is also called Pau Pau who is now getting more manja by the day.  While Mini was always quiet, Pau Pau is the loud one.  Her entire life was spent at home, only venturing out for trips to the vet for vaccination.  She would never venture out even with the door on several occassions left unattendedly openned.

She was the more timid of the two kittens.  What she lacked in bravery, she compensated doubly (or triply) with her affectionate behaviour.  She was inseparable from mom Bulu and later Pau Pau.  She would lick Bulu and Pau Pau from head to tail, including behind the ears and inside the ears!  At seven months she was still trying to suckle from Bulu who most of the time allowed her.  From their days in their birth box, Mini and Pau Pau slept either one of top of the other, or curled up against one another, each using their bodies as pillow and cushion for the other.  They curled up in baskets, pails, boxes, sofas, and even the dustpan! 

When they were younger, Mini was always the underdog (undercat?) when it came to sisterly wrestling.  Pau Pau would strive to immobolise Mini by sitting on her with her heavier weight and slightly larger build.  Mini would adopt the 'undercat' position by laying on her back with her four paws kicking off Pau Pau from below.  Their numerous session will be played out on the vast living room floor. 

Mini copied everything Pau Pau did.  Not long after, Pau Pau could be found pinned under Mini.  When Pau Pau was running up the stairs at two months, Mini was going up and down like a coiled spring, jumping each step of the way.  When Pau Pau jumped up to sit on the dining chair, Mini pulled herself up before learning the art of jumping.  At five months or so when Pau Pau could reach the ceiling by climbing the security rails, Mini soon learned the trick although she usually had more difficulty coming down.  The only agility of Pau Pau which Mini never mastered was racing up the L-shaped stairs at top speed and then jumping onto the banister. 

However, Mini was the more meticulous of the two.  She was slower to graduate from toilet school, but she outdid Pau Pau.  Never once did she miss her 'aim' at her litter box and always covered up after doing her business.  For the last two times she went to the loo, although with no more energy to jump into the litter box, she crawled to the litter box.  Pau Pau has her peculiar habit of scratching the air instead of the sand post-bowel movements. 

 On her idle moments, Mini would sit on the edge of the first floor with her two front paws hanging down.  Although she knew she was not allowed, at any given opportunity she would sneak into the room and jump up to the foot of the bed to sleep with me.  She was also quite an accomplished little beggar.  She liked human food, although she knew she would not get any.  On the rare occassions when she succeeded, it would always be tiny pieces of chicken (no bones) with the salt and whatever sauce washed off.  She would go absolutely mad for milk, often lapping up one ladle-full in one session. 

Throughout her life, she had never had the need to be given a bath.  She never stank, every other waking moment not spent in chasing or cuddling up to Pau Pau or sleeping is spent in grooming.  She had two permanent toys, two blocks of soft wood to scratch her claws on.  She had many other improvised toys, toilet roll turned into 'paper flowers' with the help of Pau Pau, newspapers shredded to bits (again in concerto with Pau Pau), curtains which was always good for climbing up and playing hide and seek with Pau Pau and Bulu, and numerous table and chair legs to play 'go karting' with Pau Pau and Bulu in their uncountable chase-ups round the house. 

She would come up against you to rub herself against your feet, sometimes settling on your lap, or other times inching her body closer to you on the couch.  Her big saucer eyes, round as marbles, would take away the stress from a day's work.  She was really like a family member, with her own querky ways but always enduring, timid and manja.  As if endowed with the sixth sense, she would always be there to cheer you up with her presence whenever you were stressed out. 

Other than her last five days, she had a full life.  On Sunday she was photographed by a friend near the ceiling, having reached it via the metal grill.  I saw her standing on her hind legs peering through the window from the study when delivery men delivered a table to the house.  The evening after that, she was sitting in one her favourite foetal position cuddled up position on a book shelf.  She stopped eating on Monday, was brought to a vet by Tuesday, began to show signs of difficulty in breathing (dyspnea) by Wednesday.  She refused sardines and milk on Tuseday, only drinknig a few licks of glucose.  The vet had to hydrate her subcutaneously.  Her rectal temperature was constantly at 38C every day.  On Thursday her breating was getting more laboured.   X-rays did not give any alerts.  Her heart was strong.  Her condition deteriorated very quickly.  The vet could not find anything wrong with her.  She was given daily hydration to prevent dehydration, urinated several times.  She still had the will to kick with her legs at any attempt to hydrate her orally.  She had adopted a sitting position.  Her pupils did not react much to changes in light.  Her breathing movements extended to her abdomen.  With the lack of other symptoms, she was suspected of injury from a fall which would heal on its own.  She was given hydration, and multi-vitamin injection until she resumes eating, and antibiotic injection to counter / ward off infection.  In this part of the world, there are no facilities to do blood or histopathologic work on domestic animals.  Her condition never improved with the intervention.

On Friday morning, she showed signs of tachypnea (shortness of breath).  The vet usually opens at 10 a.m. and I had to go into work because there was no chance to cancel my class.  At 9:30, my housemate rang to say that Mini's condition had gone from bad to worse.  She was breathing from her mouth and was on her side, propped up by the kitchen slippers.  I rushed her to the vet but he had not arrived. 

Mini was always looking up at me, her head cradled in my left palm.  I propped her into a sitting position.  I spoke to her, stroked her, and she would respond by thumping her tail feebly and her left front paw would softly grasp my right palm.  There was no option of putting her to sleep.  At noon her temperature had dropped to 35.4C.  I held her body, she felt light.  She used to weigh 3 kilos when she was a bouncy cat, but later we found that she only weighed 2.22 kg.  Her little body was failing her wonderfully big spirit.  She breathed her last in my arms at 12:22, shortly before the Azan for Friday prayers.  I had told her to go in peace, and I asked her to forgive anything that I had or hadn't done, that all her food and everything is for her, that God willing, we would meet in heaven.  I said goodbye to her and she was gone. She was a very good companion, like a family member.  She was 9 months and 6 days.

Her post-mortem showed a condition called pleural effusion but with no pathology work, the cause of death could never be definitely determined.  It was confirmed as not tuberculosis.   It looked very much like chylothorax. 

I am very grateful for the compassion and care from the vet, his wife and his staff. 

She was always my best girl.  She now rests under the shade of the jambu tree in the front garden with wafts of sweet scent from a nearby pandan bush. 

Those who knew Mini, also called Mono were truly blessed.  She has now returned to her Creator.

Mini Cat @ Mono
3 March 2008 - 9 January 2009

This is a short entry, a prelude to a longer one.  It's so phenomenal that I need to write this now.  I came in from the doctor's at one o'clock, despite my bronchitis, I postponed my sleep to listen to Obama's victory speech, live.  Fourty odd years after the U.S. gave its African American citizens the vote, a black man is in the White House. Yes, in a country that politics should be colourless, there are still pockets of American voters who could not bring themselves to vote for a black man.  But, they are in the minority.  Good sense has prevailed over time, education, and shared dreams.  I lament the fact that in my own country a Lim Guan Eng or a Sivakumar, could hardly aspire to be the Prime Minister.  African Americans who once lived through being chased like dogs in America lived to see the day when they elect in a black President without any untoward incidence or suggestions of untoward public unrest by politicians.  My admiration for the American people for collectively working towards this.  My hope, my prayers are that in my own country, I will live to see the day when proponents of race-based politics are in a minority and we could vote in the best man, or woman, regardless of ethnicity and religious convictions. 

Jangan penjara hati ini
ia tak erti mencari kunci
cuma diam menunggu.  

Jangan hulurkan saja kunci
ia tak kenal mana satu
cuma bukalah mangga.

Jangan juga tunggu di pintu
ia sudah lupa bangun
cuma pimpinlah keluar.

Barangkali ia akan ikut.

Anisah
Kota Kinabalu
27 Oktober 2008, 01:43.

This is in Malay.  Somebody can translate it into English? The beauty of prose is that it could convey so many meanings.  Here, it could mean a woman trapped within the confines of a patriarchal society and its norms.  Or, a woman trapped within herself.  Or an individual deprived for so long that she has given up hoping.  Or it is a woman after all, but a man?  Or it could be someone who has given up on faith, waiting for someone to hold his hands to return again?  Or, what else?

Eid Mubarak,  Selamat Hari Raya Idul Fitr.  Maaf zahir batin.  

With love, hopes and prayers,
Anisah

Disordered world

Anisah, 01:15, +8GMT

This week, I had a conversation with someone.  It went pretty much like this:

I think I have obsessive compulsive disorder.

Do you arrange all your toothbrushes?

I still straighten all my towels.

Do you straighten the bedsheet to perfection?

I use to.  I don't have time now.  But I still order my thoughts and essays.

That night, just as I was about to fall asleep, a thought struck me.  I used to be like that.  In the world of a six-year old, obsessive compulsive disorder was not a concept yet.  I used to arrange my lego blocks, well not Lego^TMbut the lookalikes, by colours and size.  Then I built a hut out of the blocks, each layer arranged by colour.  I used to say hello and goodbye to every furniture in the house(!), not missing a single chair or footstool(!) each time I visit my dad during school holidays.  I have also arranged coloured pencils by length, books by standing height, and shoes on the rack.  Then as primary and secondary schools brought more homework, more co-curricular activities, I just unconsciously stopped all that. 

A week ago, I had a panic attack.  I couldn't walk a straight path from my office door to my desk because students' assignments were piled on the floor.  It was bedlam.  It took me a good two hours to clear the floor area.  I'm sure primary and secondary schools did a lot of good to me, including getting rid of what might have been an obsessive compulsive disorder.  But in the progression (or regression?), I ended up such a disordered person.  They say, the proof of the pudding is in the eating.  I have told a few friends on several occassions, "I couldn't clean up (yet) because my project is still ongoing.  In the disorder, I can locate where each item is.  If I were to tidy things up, I wouldn't be able to find anything."

For three days now, I've been straightening my towel on the rack!  I want order, but hopefully, I won't feel the compulsion to arrange my wardrobe by type, length, and colour.  But come to think of it, I do hang my dresses with neck opening all in the same direction, for as long as I could remember.  Which is it: old habits die hard? or, there is light at the end of the tunnel?

Anwar vs Ahmad

 00:17, +8GMT

I have just watched the live debate between Anwar Ibrahim and Ahmad Sabbery Chik.  The former is the de facto 'opposition leader' and the latter is the Information Minister.  

In a debate, the jury must decide one side who is more persuasive, with more empirical facts, with more defensible theoretical argument, and if all else fails, the less worse between the two sides.  

As a reputably good orator (note good orator; this is not a pronouncement of good politician), I expected more from Anwar.  As the Information Minister who was reported to have told the Prime Minister that a new Information Minister should he 'failed', he might have just shot himself on the foot.   

A jury in a debate cannot give a draw.  Therefore my vote, as a juror in this debate, had to go to Anwar.  

Monsoon of 2008

Anisah

17 June 2008, 23:43, +8 GMT 

How do you know if someone's yours?
I don't. 

How do you know if someone's for you?
I'd be blessed if I do.

How do you know?
I don't.
You tell me.  

There's too much work, and too little sleep.  Now, there's the oily business of high oil and food prices.  Add a few oily colleagues to the equation and you get quite a greasy situation!

One friend sent me an email full of statistics showing why Malaysians should not have to pay so much for our petrol because profits from the national oil company, PETRONAS is enough to cover their exploration and expansion needs as well as domestic fuel consumption at the prevailing price before an 80 sen increase from RM1.90/litre to the current RM2.70/litre.  I would give that email more thought if our politicians from both part of the divide provided statistics for debate rather than the government justifying the need for development and the opposition challenging an un-endorsed set of numbers.

Newspapers in Malaysia reported a staggering number of advice from various government politicians on the need for the public to prefer public transport.  One report even lamented commented about Malaysians dismal use of public transport to Europeans.  What that report failed to show was the frequency of bus/train trips per route, and number of routes served per locality.  Perhaps with both sets of data in the same report, things will finally even up.  I live 5 kilometres from my work place.  To use public transport, I would have to change buses four times, taking a total of five different buses!  It would have taken me about an hour to leg it all the way - except that a woman was kidnapped and raped on part of the same route about two months ago.  Do I have a choice?  Unfortunately yes, pay RM71 to fill up my fuel efficient car, and try my best to achieve a constant speed of 60km/h to achieve better fuel usage and lower emmissions.  I already live in a non-air-conditioned house, and don't iron all my clothes, eat rice once a day, with amount of rice per meal set at about 50 - 80 grams.  I cannot think of anymore substantial ways to change my lifestyle to pay less.

In this, I'm very much reminded of how my mom used to cope.  Dad lived in another state due to the nature of his work.  We lived with mom in a different state to attend better schools.  Still, the schools, an all-girl Convent for me, and an all-boy school for my brother.  Both are a stone's throw from one another, but both are about 7 km from home.  That meant school buses were out of the question.  Even if there were school buses willing to take us, we would leave for school two hours before school, arrive late for classes, and arrive home three hours after school!  A school closer to home would solve our commuting problem, but it was a Chinese vernacular school and it was decided that my brother and I would get an English-Malay education.  Our neighbours thought we were odd: 'single-mother' family, who looked Chinese but shunned Chinese education, never gave our house a lick of paint in twenty years, and built our own pavements.  The latter two because paint and labour were beyond our means.  

To make the money go further, mom packed lunch, drove us to school in the morning, I attended morning school, my brother did his homework in the school grounds until it was time for his afternoon school, and then I had my lunch and did my homework while waiting for my brother's class to finish, and then we'll go home in the evening.  Schools back then had to operate in morning and afternoon sessions because they weren't enough school buildings at that time.  All the while mom will sit with the child not attending class either in the car, with the doors flung open for ventilation, or in the canteen.  Extra after-class tuition was provided by mom.  So all in all mom made two trips to school, rather than six trips if she had gone back and forth.  It was not a comfortable arrangement, but she ensured we had a good education, and there was food on the table everyday.  Had she prefered the comforts of home, my brother and I would not have that many hours to do our homework or we would have gone hungry.  Our mother sacrificed so much!  

Today as I try to live frugally, those memories become even more vivid.  It is heartening to know that she could now sit back and not worry about money anymore.   She watches Wah Lai Thoi on ASTRO most of the time, enjoys the occasional eating out with dad.  And, most heartening, she tells me, 'I love you' at the end of every telephone conversation whenver I call her.  

(to be continued...) 

Yellow card for fly alone women!

Kota Kinabalu, 4 May 2008, 22:36 (+8 GMT) 

Regressive. Unfair. Bias.

These are the words published on page 4 of the New Straits Times of 4th May 2008.  The paper was reporting on a Malaysian Foreign Ministry newly proposed move to require women travelling out of the country alone to have a letter from parents or employers.  Why?  This is supposedly to be able to stop Malaysian women from being duped into carrying drugs for international syndicates.  Statistics showed that to date 119 Malaysian women are in various stages of prosecution or serving time, or awaiting time for capital punishment for drug trafficking abroad.  

Outrageous! for four reasons:

1.  that convicted drug traffickers should be given capital punishment.  Studies show that capital punishment for traffickers do not stop trafficking or deter cartels from duping people to become traffickers.  

2.   that Malaysia should react to its citizens receiving capital punishment for drug trafficking overseas when the country has the same mandatory punishment for convicted traffickers.

3.  that free-born Malaysian women cannot travel on equal terms with free-born Malaysian men.   

4.  that women who wish to carry drugs can dupe their parents or employers to provide such letters. 

Can the government assure us that this is the opinion of the Foreign Minister together with the Home Minister and not the opinion of the Cabinet?  

 Even if there are the same number of men, or less men who were duped as drug carriers, the logic of this proposal is sitll outrageous.  Free citizens, be they men or women, who have not been convicted of any crimes, or not awaiting trial should not have additional conditions imposed on them just because they are more likely to be duped if they were to travel alone.  

The proposal might render single females above 18 years who have lost both parents, and who are unemployed or self-employed, inelligble to travel alone!   

Please can good sense, equality and fairness prevail?  Otherwise, the following might sound sane and possibly be carried out!

1.  that women must not drive because they might be duped to carry an illegal object in their cars!

2.  that women must not possess their own passport so that they could not travel alone.  Their particulars must be in the passport of fathers, husbands.  Without either, then with employers.  Without that, with a guardian appointed by the Home Ministry!

3.  that women must not step out of their houses alone.  They must be accompanied by either father / husband / employer / or call the police station for an escort because they are more likely to be raped than men are likely to be sodomised!

 The scarry thing is, there are a sizeable number minority of Malaysians who find that the above ludicrous suggestions to be very good indeed, and no sarcasm is meant in this sentence!  Why, because the most educated of people can be ignorant of civil society.  This is especially so when civil society activities are not actively lived up to, or not enthusiastically encouraged by agents of the state.  The state might want to view itself as the good-intending Big Brother, and that should send chills down spines.  If it does not, I fear for the end. 

 Postscript

Thank goodness, the proposal has since been shot down.