Inconvenient truth: the beleaguered poor needs help

While driving to dinner last night with my wife, she was relating to me a story about the old guard at her office. Their daytime guard is contracted from independent security firms. I don't know which security firm her office uses but I do know that there are several around. Some are big ones and some are pretty small but presumably, their hiring policies should be more or less the same.

The story she wanted to tell me was that she discovered that the guard had gone to see a doctor recently and the doctor had diagnosed that he was weak and suffering from malnutrition. This came as a complete shock to me. I knew the guard was poor but to learn that he was malnourished, well, that puts his poverty into a different perspective.

How could he be malnourished, I inquired. Apparently, according to my wife, the doctor told her that he had been subsisting only on instant noodles. Not maggi mee, but the even cheaper ones. And he had been eating only noodles for a very long time. You see, there was not enough money in his household to buy anything else.

This is the unfortunate plight of many poor in this country. If you can read my blog, that means that you already have the means, you have the money, you are wealthy enough to pay for your Internet usage either directly or indirectly.

However, the poor guard does not care much for the Internet; he is more worried about where his next meal will come from. And the problem is compounded because in his line of work, he is paid only for each day he works. If he is sick and cannot work, he is not paid for that day. There is little or no healthcare provision from his employer, the security company. He cannot take any leave because his wages will be deducted for those off days too. He needs to work long hours and he needs to work on Saturdays and Sundays because this is all survival money to him and his family.

So knowing all this, do you have a tinge of compassion in your body? Would you want to do something to help this person's dignity? Giving him money will not help solve his problem but my wife suggested that a regular contribution of small nutritional food rations will go a long way to help people such as him. I think too, the Penang government should look into their programme to eradicate poverty and see whether this old guard - and others like him - qualifies for their monthly assistance.

Foreign radio broadcasts

Waking up at six o'clock in the morning means that the house is very quiet when I creep downstairs for my daily morning cleaning up routine. But lately, I've been using my old ipad2 (yes! I'm still using this old derelict despite technology having whizzed forward at tremendous paces!) to tune in to foreign radio stations.

My TuneIn Radio app on the ipad2 is still one of my favourite applications. With it, foreign radio stations which would have been impossible to listen in to are now streaming clearly and effortlessly into my home with just a wireless broadband connection. So close to home.

When I was still in primary school some 50 years ago, every morning my mother would be waking up early to begin her house work and prepare me for school. She used to listen to the radio too.

She used a mere transister radio in those days. This very same model that you see above: the Hitachi WH-817. Nothing fanciful about this radio. She was always tuning in to the Radio Malaya and later, Radio Malaysia, English language station in the mornings. Very softly, if I may add, because the kitchen was just next to my grandparents' room on the ground floor.

This transister radio had only three options - a medium wave option and two shortwave bands - which could be selected with the big lever on the front of the radio. Tuning was by means of a wheel dial on the right side of the radio with another dial next to it to provide finer tuning. And when a station was picked up, the small indicator needle on the front face would swing to the right. The volume dial was on the left side. Oh yes, the Hitachi had also thoughtfully featured a small dial lamp to assist using dialing in the dark. On top of the radio was a retractable telescope antenna.

So my mum would listen very softly to the Radio Malaya station. And I remember the type of music. The station played all very slow and soothing stuff at that time in the morning. As if there was a reluctance for anything else. As if the announcers were also afraid to disturb the sleeping.It was enough to lull me to sleep again, if I wasn't having to go to school!

When I was older, I hijacked this radio whenever I could after I had discovered the joy of tuning in to the Radio RAAF Butterworth. This wondrous community radio station was broadcast by volunteer soldiers and their families from the Royal Australian Air Force base in Butterworth. The RRB station was broadcasting on 1445kHz and that was at the extreme right end of the medium wave band of this transister radio. I remember too that on good days when the weather conditions were good enough, pushing the tuning dial further to the end would enable me to receive the crackly Voice of America re-broadcasts from faraway Saigon.

I never bothered myself with the shortwave bands on this Hitachi until very much later when the BBC World Service and Radio Australia (Radio Australia's cricket commentaries were second to none) caught my attention. Curious mind, you see. But once I caught this radio bug, life was never the same for me again. And that's why today, I'm using the ipad2 to re-live my past hobby. Foreign radio stations, yeah!

Mourning wear

At dinner last night, our conversation at the table suddenly touched on the topic of bereavement. One of his friends, according to my son, had passed away in the last fortnight or so and he had asked another of his old schoolmate to pass some money as pek kim (literally translated as "white gold" but it means "condolence donation" or a donation to the bereaved family as an expression of condolence) as contribution to the deceased friend's family.

It was good that he felt that way towards a friend. I suppose that after experiencing the loss of his aunt five months ago, he could more or less feel how the family would have felt after losing a loved one.

We gently told him that within the one year of his aunt's passing, there was no necessity to give the pek kim. But since he had already done so, well, just pay back the money which he was owing his old schoolmate.

There's so much custom for us Chinese to follow after the death of a close family member. Apart from the obligatory prayer days - seventh day, 49th day, 100th day, anniversary date and Cheng Beng - we are also not to get ourselves involved with the next Chinese New Year or even the making of koay ee (glutinous rice balls) at the Tang Chik or Tung Chik (winter solstice) festival. Moreover, we cannot attend other people's funerals, weddings and birthdays. All these are the customary taboos which were handed down to us from generation to generation.

I suppose life was so much stricter in the past when we had to follow all the instructions of our elders. Whatever our elders said or decided, we had to follow without question.

For example, even as recent as the 1970s, any one mourning the death of a close family member was not allowed to cut his hair until the 100th day was over. As such, the head could get pretty unkempt rather quickly. But there were boys in the 1970s who took advantage of this custom to keep their hair long while going to school, at the chagrin of the headmaster or disciplinary teacher who couldn't do anything.

Another old custom was that the direct family members were required to show that they were in mourning for three years. Yes, three long years. The first year, it was obligatory to wear all black in and out of the house, whether you were working or not. At the very least, wear a white shirt with black pants. From the second year, you can change to white and blue. Only after the third year can a person tnooi ang or formally don red clothes to signify the end of the mourning period.

When my paternal grandfather died in 1963, I was subjected to this rigorous custom. I had to wear black and white to school for one year, and fasten a small piece of black cloth on my sleeve. Only after the first anniversary was over could I wear all white to school again. In primary school, my sport colour was blue, and so it was quite all right for me to fasten the blue pieces of cloth on my singlet. I wouldn't know how my grandmother would have reacted if red or yellow happened to be my sport colour.

Then in 1966, my maternal grandfather died. We had to change hastily out of our third year mourning clothes of white and blue, did a quick tnooi ang, before donning black all over again. Luckily, this time, my maternal grandmother wasn't so insistent on custom and allowed us to tnooi ang after a year. Still, it was black and white until the 100th day. 

Maybe I should also add that when it was the turn of my paternal grandmother to die in 1967, my family only observed mourning for one year. My father was the eldest in the family by then and so, he made the decision. Similarly, we only mourned for a year when my maternal grandmother died in 1980.

I've always believed that all these traditional customs are only to show other people that we are traditionalists in the mourning process. But to me, it should not matter whether one wears mourning attire for three years or one year or one day; what matters more is how you mourn inside your heart. My father agreed with me on this point and when my mother died in 1985, he agreed to let us wear mourning colours for only 49 days. When he died in 1996, I decided that this outward demonstration of mourning for my family would be a week. It was even quicker when my mother's sister died in Kuala Lumpur several years ago and my father's sister died this year. We did the tnooi ang right after returning home from the funeral. But I must add that it was not done out of disrespect for either of the deceased. It was probably right because they were aunts and not parents.

Nevertheless, despite cutting short this outward show of mourning, my family still maintained the tradition of not getting involved with activities such as other people's funerals, weddings or birthdays. So while we shall not be celebrating Chinese New Year next year, it will also mean not giving ang pows away. My daughter and son probably won't mind but my nephews and nieces will be real disappointed. :-)

Contrast

Just a few days ago, I was so filled with a warm glow after experiencing how the service centre of one political party was going out of their way to make amends with me over a goof-up which saw the application for my aunt's death benefits go missing before it was even submitted to the Land Office for processing. It is the correct thing to do that when things go wrong, acknowledge the mistakes and then act of them fast. This political party sure knows how to appease the people.

And what a vast contrast my experience provides to this story that I picked up from Malaysiakini just a few days ago. Date stamped 6 October 2013, Nigel Aw told an embarrassing tale of a group of disabled people.

When people do not perform the job they are expected to do, they are a disgrace to their employer. In this case, the Director of the Kulim Welfare Department is a disgrace to the government. Imagine, hiding in her room and refusing to even meet a disabled man after he had crawled up the stairs. Can you blame the general public if they say the civil service is rotten to the core?

According to the writer: "A disabled man resorted to crawling up a flight of stairs in a bid to submit a memorandum to the Kulim Welfare Department (JKM) after its director snubbed his association.

"When contacted, Padang Serai MP N Surendran said some 50 members from the Persatuan OKU Setia Daerah Kulim had protested outside JKM to voice their grouses about welfare benefits about 3pm today.

"However, he said Kulim JKM director Rohana Yusof refused to receive the memorandum and instead chose to remain at the department's office on the first floor of the municipal council building complex.

"After waiting for over an hour under the hot sun, Surendran said one of the association's committee members, 53-year-old Gnana Pragasan, who cannot walk, decided to personally go up to the first floor and hand the memorandum to Rohana. "With the memorandum in his mouth, he used his hands to climb all the way up and banged the door until the director finally came out to receive the memorandum," he said.

"Surendran said the incident today illustrated the welfare department's insensitivity towards the disabled and elderly in the country. "It is a sucker punch for the disabled community, it is a national shame... the (Woman, Family and Community Development) minister must answer," he said.

"Surendran said among the grouses in the memorandum was the fact that the Kulim JKM office was on the first floor where disabled people found it difficult to access. They were also upset that JKM officers have refused conduct site visits to disabled people who cannot personally visit the department's office for assessment, while others were unhappy that they were not receiving their welfare allowance. Also present at the scene were Lunas state assemblyperson Azman Nasrudin and PKR legal bureau chief Latheefa Koya."
 

An appreciation

Readers of this blog will understand that my father's sister passed away in May this year. As she was not married and had been staying with me since the mid-1960s, I was her closest relative and had been looking after her very well until her last days.

Sometime in June this year about a month after my aunt's passing, I had submitted an application form, together with all the necessary documents, through the service centre of a political party near the Kampong Baharu market in Bukit Mertajam in order to claim the Senior Citizens death benefits from the state government.

Since more than four months had passed by without an acknowledgement of any sort from the service centre or state government, I approached the assemblywoman of my state constituency to make inquiries about the status of my application.

Initially I was informed that the service centre did not have any record of receiving the application. Frankly at that stage, I wasn't completely unsurprised. In fact, disappointed. But I do remember that the service centre was rather busy on the day I submitted the application. My form and documents could have been misplaced anywhere or forgotten. But it shouldn't be their excuse. Unfortunately too, I had also not kept any photocopy of the application for my own record as I had trusted the service centre too much to do all that was necessary correctly.

But what to do now, since they know that they had bungled and caused my form and documents to go missing? To the credit of the service centre, the mere realisation that something had gone wrong somewhere simply spurred them into action.

Over the past few days, I have received two telephone calls from the staff of the service centre, apologising profusely for misplacing my application. Yes, they acknowledged that they had no record of it at their office or the Land Office which would register the application.

But apart from the telephone apologies, they also sprung into action. First, a Mr Lim visited me to apologise personally. Then a Ms Ooi came along to hand me another application form and said that she would return later in the afternoon to collect all the documents back. I told her that I'd call her when everything was ready. I am really very impressed and feel very gratified over their personal service. So yes, thank you, I hope for an early resolution soon.

Oh, by the way, the assemblywoman that I spoke to was Lydia Ong Kok Fooi and the service centre in question belonged to the Democratic Action Party (DAP), constituency of Berapit in Province Wellesley. Okay, apart from having misplaced my application, they are making amends for this bungle by attending to my case in such an exemplary style. Kudos to the people there!

House

I felt more than a little surprised with the number of responses that had met my original post in The Old Frees' Association's facebook group. 

As the number climbed slowly, it became quite clear to me that the Penang Free School house colours remained a matter of  pride with a lot of Old Frees.

The house system could be considered the biggest of DR Swaine's legacies after he took over the headmaster's role in 1927. [And incidentally, it was the very first time that any school in Malaya had a house system. Ground-breaking stuff, this!]

With the sport houses in place, he instilled not only a sense of belonging to a club-within-a-club but also moved the competitive spirit to excel in each and every one of the Free School students of his time. Of course, this legacy holds true until today.

When he introduced the house system in the Penang Free School, Swaine was only the fourth headmaster in the school with a university degree. From the early days of the school's founding in 1816 until William Hargreaves' appointment as the headmaster in 1891, all the others who ran the school were not exactly academically qualified school superintendents or headmasters. I've read somewhere that one actually held a second job at the same time when he was supposed to be running the school.

From its inception, the school had adapted an existing education system known as the Madras System of Education that had been pioneered by a Dr Andrew Bell while he was the Superintendent of the Madras Orphanage for the sons of soldiers, and it had been the vogue in English Elementary Schools during the first half of the 19th century.

The Madras System was a monitorial system where a schoolmaster would teach basic lessons to a small, select group of brighter or older pupils, called Monitors, and each of them would then relate the lessons to another group of children. Thus, it was considered that one adult teacher was sufficient for an indefinite number of students. The Monitors taught and meted discipline under the teacher's direction.

In line with the rest of the British Empire, this system began falling out of favour with the Free School Committee from sometime in the middle of the 19th century and the Committee then looked to engage elementary schoolmasters from England as the headmasters. Eventually, with an eye towards raising the standard of education further, the Committee decided on appointing University graduates as headmasters.  

And that was how William Hargreaves, with a Master of Arts degree to his name, became the first academically qualified headmaster for the Free School in 1891. Under his term of office as Headmaster, the Penang Free School became the foremost educational institution in the Straits Settlements, reaping a lot of academic rewards.

Ralph Henry Pinhorn succeeded Hargreaves in 1904 and he brought the school to even greater heights during his time as the headmaster. When Pinhorn retired owing to ill health in 1925, William Hamilton was the next headmaster. Although his tenure was short, until the end of 1926, Hamilton had actually been long associated with the school since 1895 or even earlier! (His marriage in that year was registered in the Church of St George the Martyr.) Headmaster DR Swaine took over from Hamilton in 1927.

When Swaine introduced the house system, he did not need to look beyond naming three of the five houses after his three illustrious predecessors: Hargreaves, Pinhorn and Hamilton. There were also two vacant house names but there was no question either about naming them after a school master, Harold Ambrose Robinson Cheeseman, and a medical doctor, Gnoh Lean Tuck.

Contrary to what many people assumed, Cheeseman was never a headmaster at the Penang Free School. He joined the teaching staff in 1907 and remained at the school for 15 years. In 1922, he was promoted to become a headmaster of the Government English School in Penang but very soon afterwards, he was appointed as Penang's Inspector of Schools. By the time he retired from the Malayan Government Service in 1948, his rank had risen to that of Director-General of Education, Malaya.

Dr Gnoh Lean Tuck should also require no introduction. More famously respected as Wu Lien-Teh throughout the world, he was one of the Free School's greatest scholars, the first Chinese to study medicine at the University of Cambridge, the man who beat the dreaded plague in China, a nominee for the Nobel Prize in Medicine in 1935... What more can I say about him and his achievements?

Tunku Putra came into existence very much later during the Free School's sesquicentenary celebrations. Tan Boon Lin, who was then the headmaster during the school's 150th anniversary, announced the formation of this new House effective from 1967 and it would take in pupils from the other five houses. This house was named after Tengku Abdul Rahman, the Free School's Grand Old Free who was Malaya's Chief Minister from 1955 to 1957 and then the Prime Minister of the country from 1957 to 1970.

It was not until 2009 that a further two new houses, Sirajuddin and P Ramlee, were added to the Free School family. Like his father before him, Tuanku Sirajuddin Jamalullail is an Old Free. Since 2000, he is the Raja of Perlis and for five years from 2001 to 2006, was also the 12th Yang Di-Pertuan Agong, or King. The other Old Free honoured under the house system, P Ramlee, was one of the country's most well known entertainers.

As an after-thought, it just struck me that of the five original personalities, roads around the Penang Free School have also been named after them. Pinhorn Road, Hargreaves Road, Hargreaves Circle and Hamilton Road are further down from the Free School while on the opposite side from the school are Cheeseman Road and Wu Lien-Teh Gardens. There is also Tengku Abdul Rahman Road which was renamed from Ayer Rajah Road, while the name of Caunter Hall was changed to P Ramlee Road.

First-time acupuncture

This picture was taken last week at a free Chinese medicine clinic at a Buddhist temple in Seberang Jaya. Lately, I have been troubled by some nerve problem down my leg. And so, when I heard that there was an acupuncture clinic at the temple, I decided to see whether the sinseh could do something about my problem.

I had a second reason to try acupuncture: I had heard so much about it but had never experienced it before. Besides, even one of my old schoolmates who is a practicing medical doctor in Sydney swears by it and uses it on his patients. There must be some real medical benefits to this ancient Chinese practice.

I must admit there I was rather nervous when the first of four needles was pricked into my skin but surprisingly, there was very little pain when the needle went in effortlessly. And no blood was drawn. Same with the other three needles. Maybe, once, there was a numbing sensation when the acupuncturist twisted the needle to reach a particular spot but apart from that, I was more bothered about the accompanying itch than the other sensations.

The acupuncturist left the needles in me for 25 minutes but time flew so quickly that before too long, the alarm rang and the needles were removed. The first session was perhaps too brief for me to say whether there is any improvement in my leg and therefore, yesterday saw me registering again at the temple for a second session. I hope this is not going to be habit forming because there are people who tell me that they keep coming back for treatment for quite a while.

Anyway, there I was at the acupuncture centre again last night. The crowd wasn't as big as the week before but yet I had to wait until about 8.30p.m. until my number was called. I explained my problem once again to the sinseh and was more articulate this time. More confident this time around.

For this session, six needles were stuck into me; two more than the previous week. I didn't manage to see the needles when they were pushed in but I was rather surprised to note, when they were removed subsequently, that some of the needles were quite long and almost one-and-a-half inches had actually gone deep into my flesh. And yet, the only sensations I felt were itches and the occasional tiny pricks of pain. Of yes, I noticed too that one of the needles in my foot was jerking involuntarily. Quite interesting!

Did I mention earlier that I hope the acupuncture therapy won't be habit-forming? I may hope but it is truly hard to hope against this hope. The pricks, the tiny ant bites of pain, the throbbing sensations, the itch, and the wonder of seeing the needle going into the flesh.... Well, I SHALL BE BACK NEXT WEEK FOR MORE, I assure you!

Dog bite

When I was in primary school -- although I can't remember how old I was --  I was bitten by a dog. A big dog. As fate would have it, it was an Alsatian, one of the biggest dogs I had come across. Of course when I was small, all big animals looked extra big.

What happened was that it was almost the eve of a Chinese New Year. Maybe it was two or three days before the festival. My family was still staying in Seang Tek Road and my mother had baked some cakes. It was my job to go distributing them to friends and I was particularly looking forward to go drop a cake with a family that was staying in Lorong Seratus Tahun, primarily because the trip would take me past a wooden bungalow that once housed a maternity home. The maternity home where I was born.

So there I was, walking down the road with the cake and then turning right into Selangor Road before making a left turn into this Lorong Seratus Tahun. Pretty soon I had arrived at this double storey house. I opened the gate and rang the door bell.

Someone opened the door but before I could even say anything, this mean beast suddenly rushed out from inside the house, all barking and aggressive, and jumped up at me. It tried to sink its teeth into my neck. Going for the jugular. My jugular. Even at a young age with terror in my eyes, I turned my body instinctively. Instead of my neck, the dog's jaw snapped on my upper left arm. And as quickly as it had bitten me, it ran away into the house.

I was shocked. This family was shocked. It was the worst feeling. Nobody from my family was around. Events became blurry after this but I do recall being rushed to the General Hospital immediately where two stitches were put into my arm and a tetanus jab followed. And then I was taken home. By then, my family had been informed too and they were waiting for me to come back.

For years, I sported that scar on my arm and proudly showed it off to anyone at school whenever there was a Physical Education class or a need to take off our shirts. The scar has faded quite a lot but can still be made out. What a Chinese New Year present indeed.

My reading material

This has been some of my fodder since the beginning of the year. Of course, I haven't managed to read all of them yet and in fact, I've even brought out some old books to read too. But by and large, my range of reading interest goes down certain well-trodden paths.

Themed night for OFA 90th anniversary dinner

Still three weeks away but what the heck, I've already collected my tickets from The Old Frees' Association. 

I notice that it's going to be a themed night and members are encouraged to turn up wearing their sport house colours. What's your colour? Mine's one of these. :-)

Giant trees

One of the well-worn paths at the Bukit Mertajam Hill in Cherok Tokun lies beside the stream. As you walk up the terraced path before entering the forest, this huge tree looms to the right. It cannot be missed at all as it is really big with an impressive set of buttress roots. You may think that this could be the biggest tree at the BM Hill but actually, the hill is still largely unexplored and there may well be some other surprises inside.

Earlier this week, I got a message from Long Kin to ask whether I wanted to see an even bigger tree at the BM Hill. Seemed that he himself was shown this tree not so long ago by some other friends and he wanted to share this discovery with me. Okay, I told him, let's go!

So on Wednesday, we met at the foothills and went walking up the same terraced path, passing the big tree by the stream. I paused to take a few photographs just in case I needed them for comparison later. You can see the size of this tree from the two pictures below.

About five minutes into our walk, Long Kin took us to a detour to the right of the main track. It's off the beaten track. Not many people had been here, I observed. There weren't many obvious signs of gravel wear along the track. Much of the way was rather narrow and steep, and at two or three places we were required to climb over fallen tree trunks, but that was all. No dramatic danger around. And best of all, no leeches. Along the way, there were also some interesting flora:

And soon enough, our destination loomed into full view. We had reached a small clearing in the forest where, for the first time in my life, I saw an absolutely immense set of buttress roots. If I had thought that the tree by the stream was big, this one was h-u-g-e. Yes, huge. You've got to see it for yourself to appreciate how big such trees could grow when they are not disturbed by human development.

The above picture was taken from one angle only. I had to pick my way gingerly round the roots before I could get this second picture snapped from a different perspective.

It is impossible to say how old the tree is. My guess is at least four or five hundred years old - but possibly even older because it would be very hard to put an age on this healthy, living tree - as it is located in a little known, uninhabited area of the hill, away from human beings with only animals and insects as its companions. Undisturbed, it had grown to this immense size. Seeing how awesome nature works when given time, I wouldn't be surprised if one day, someone else would uncover some other even bigger trees around here.

Singapore hawker food

I won't say much about the hawker food in Singapore except to limit my comments to this solitary post. But the general rule of thumb is that if you can find similar food in the Malayan peninsula, chances are very good that these are better alternatives than the Singaporean version.

During my brief stay in Singapore last week, I did get to try the food at the much ballyhooed Maxwell hawker centre. Tried the Tian Tian chicken rice, the peanut soup and the Zhen Zhen porridge. I didn't have the space in my tummy to try the fish beehoon soup stall, though. But at all three stalls - selling chicken rice, porridge and beehoon soup - there were long queues. I actually waited in line for about 30 minutes before I got to my porridge, just to determine whether the stall's reputation was deserved.

But first, the chicken rice. Okay, I do accept that the chicken was very well done. I could have requested for the chicken drumstick but I allowed the hawker to serve me chicken rice with breast meat. I had expected the meat to be tough but wonders of wonders, it was soft and tender. Yes, that part was worthy of their reputation. But the rice was only of average standard. Definitely, I can get better rice even here in Penang. That, unfortunately, was the reality.

The peanut soup was acceptable enough to me. The hawker asked whether or not I wanted the glutinous rice balls. One came filled with grounded peanuts while the other was filled with red bean paste. Not bad, but I can still get this equivalent peanut soup here in Penang, with the slices of yew char kueh thrown in, although without the rice balls.

While I was enjoying the soup, an old gentleman sat to share my table. He had with him a bowl of the fish beehoon soup. So I struck up a conversation with him. He said that he always travelled down to this Maxwell hawker centre because these were the original hawkers in Singapore and the food here was marvellous. Marvellous by Singapore standards only, I thought silently to myself. And what would he recommend me, seeing that I've already satisfied much of my hunger pangs? 

Try the porridge, he urged me and poured all sorts of compliments on the food. And that was how I joined the 30-minute queue. Some of the people in line, obviously office workers, were buying back three, four, five packets of the porridge and that contributed to the long wait. But at long last, I settled down with my own bowl of fish porridge. I stirred the bowl. Yah, thin slices of fish came up. But the porridge itself was a surprise. The grains were so broken down through the long hours of cooking that the porridge had become one uniformly thick, gooey constituency. But don't get me wrong. It was all right with me. The first few mouthfuls were okay but as I progressed further through my food, I began thinking, "hey, why am I still consuming this starchy paste?"

So that's my brief food adventure at the Maxwell hawker centre. Reputable though the hawkers there are - one had even received an endorsement from the celebrity chef, Anthony Bordain - I couldn't help thinking that Penang hawker street food is still very much better, by and large.

(Picture from eatdrinkcooktravel.wordpress.com)

 
But the food items that are uniquely Singaporean are definitely worth experiencing. The bak chor mee for one. I didn't pass up the offer from one of my friends to take me to Meng's Kitchen, an 24-hour bak chor mee shop in Upper Thomson Road. As the place was packed, there was nothing to do but to wait until a table was freed. Soon, we were enjoying a bowl each. Ahh, here I must admit that this could be one of the best dry bak chor mee that I have ever had in Singapore. Just the right ingredients - pork, sliced liver, a small bowl of soup with accompanying meat balls - and perfect balance of sourness from the dash of vinegar.

And the other food item that is uniquely Singapore? Nothing else but their chwee kueh, which I located at the Ghim Moh market hawker centre. The old couple were busy attending to the short queue that had built up. Beside them was a large stack of small metal containers they used to steam their chwee kueh. I don't know how many are actually sold every day but I would hazard ... at least around a thousand? The name for this food item came from the small depression in the steamed rice cake in which a minute pool of water would condense and accumulate. The chwee kueh is best savoured with some minced meat and a dash of the hawker's chilli paste. Yes, I enjoyed it.

Old friends in 2013

Well, I made full use of the opportunity to touch base with a few of my old school mates when I was down in Singapore over the weekend. We all met up at the Ah Yat Seafood Restaurant at the so-called Turf City because it was the old premises of the Singapore Turf Club. The old building is now home to restaurants and food outlets, much like we can see at many refurbished places in Penang nowadays. I was told that this Ah Yat Seafood Restaurant is just one of several outlets in the city state.

 Old mates: left to right, Leong Teik, Nai Kwang, Kok Chuan, myself and Teik Kooi.

Cost was world of a difference

Roast pork rice. One was ordered from the food court on the fourth floor of the Wisma Atria in Singapore last Friday which cost me S$4.50 (equivalent to RM11.70 at current exchange rate of S$1 = RM2.60). The other was ordered today from a coffee shop located opposite the Kampung Baru market in Bukit Mertajam and it cost me RM3.80. Both tasted about the same. Guess which is which from the pictures:

 

Nobody bothered, of course!

Still carrying on from my post yesterday, I had unearthed a little obscure news report in The Straits Times of 25 Nov 1960. I'm sure many of our politicians would feign ignorance by claiming to be too young (or not even born) to be aware of this news item but there you have it: as long as 53 years ago, educationalists were already warning us against lowering our educational standards. Today, the insidious federal government politicians have been exposed for their own self-serving mediocrity.

Feeling annoyed over education in Malaysia

I am feeling very annoyed and indignant today because there is this stupid kosong kepala of a federal government minister who said that those Malaysians who have no confidence in the country’s education system as outlined in the National Education Blueprint can send their children to study abroad. This, coming from Idris Jusoh who is the Education Minister II.

Does this mean that if we do not have the means to send our children overseas, we have to put up with your silly blueprint? No, we still have got to see that we can get the best possible solution in our own country. In this very own country. And if this means making proposals to improve the blueprint contrary to the recommendations, it has to be done.

So please, lah, don't talk about taking our children overseas. Be prepared to listen and improve. Sell your idea to us parents. Convince us that the blueprint is the right direction. Your antagonistic attitude is totally not helpful at all. Instead of engaging concerned parents and educationalists, the federal government wants to ram their new proposal down everyone's throat without dissent.

On another similar matter, I was alarmed to read a long post on facebook by Dr Ramasamy who is the Chief Minister II in the Penang state government. He was ranting and commenting on the slide in the global rankings of our Malaysian public universities, but he really had hit the nail on the head. His comments were quite informative, factual and well-argued. All these truths are, however, being ignored by the powers-that-be in the federal government and as we know, they live in their own misguided utopia.

"Are we surprised that the Malaysian public universities further declined in the global rankings of universities. Out of the 800 universities ranked by World University Rankings 2013/2014, the top 10 included universities from UK and USA. Malaysia was nowhere within the top 100 universities. University Malaya fell from 156 place in 2012 to 167, UKM 261 to 269, USM from 326 to 355, UTM went up from 358 to 355, UPM from 360 to 411 to 420, IIUM from 401-450 to 501-550 and UITM from 601 to 701. So how do you explain the dismal performance of our leading public universities. First, our universities basically serve as government departments catering for the employment of Malays. Qualified non-Malays are not taken as both lecturers and employees. Public universities in line with the racist policies of UMNO are meant as a Malay preserve. Second, research and development, quality teaching and critical exposure remains at the symbolic level. Dissent and critical thinking are not tolerated in public universities especially those ideas that directly challenge the entrenched powers. Third, UMNO is basically the guardian "angel" of public universities. Positions like deans, vice-chancellors, deputy vice-chancellors and others are meant for UMNO members or those who toe the line of UMNO. Fourth, very few qualified non-Malays are recruited as lecturers and promotions are few and far between. Fourth, promotions to associate professors and professors are not based on academic ability and quality publications, but rather how political networks are established and maintained. Fifth, given the lack of academic leadership, there is little or no competition amongst students to excel in academic studies. Sixth, publications by lecturers and professors are not of international standard. Quantity is more important than quality. I can go on stating more reasons as to why the Malaysian universities are on the decline and why without a greater political transformation, it would be impossible to rectify the system."

Escaping the pain

(This is not an advertisement but only a testimonial on the effectiveness of a sensitive tooth toothpaste. Heck, I'm not even mentioning the name of the product....)

Oof! I tell you, having a sensitive tooth is no laughing matter. It can strike at any time. One minute you are fine but the next second, the most horrendous twinges of sudden pain sweeps through your mouth. A visit to the dentist may turn out nothing but if the dentist is experienced enough, he would recognise the symptom as that of a sensitive tooth.

Since a few months ago, I have had these sudden twinges of pain. Sometimes it was just a short dull ache among the teeth but other times too, there'd be a short, sharp pain akin to a toothache. At first, gargling with salt water and even brushing my teeth with a mixture of toothpaste and salt seemed to resolve the problem. For quite a while, the problem subsided.

Then it came back with a vengeance. No amount of salt could save me. Every sip I took of my favourite kopi-o caused me a searing pain in the tooth. No more choice but to visit my favourite dentist.

After I opened up wide enough for him to pry around my teeth and gums, he told me that I had a sensitive tooth. The gum had receded somewhat and had exposed the dentine. So every time I ate something that was not quite agreeable, the pain would remind me that the exposed dentine was reacting to the food.

So what can I do, I asked the dentist. Nothing much, he replied casually. Hey, I'm the one experiencing the pain, not you, I protested. Yah, lah, he shot back, nothing much for him to do.

Then he tossed me two sample tubes of a toothpaste for sensitive teeth. Just rub your teeth with this toothpaste every night and rinse away after five minutes. That's all? I asked him, feeling rather skeptical. That's all, he assured me.

For the past two weeks, I have been rubbing this paste over my teeth diligently every night. For good measure, I even resorted to doing the same in the morning too. And I'm happy to inform the world that yes, this toothpaste really works! It took about four days for the formula to start working but once it did, I haven't been feeling the twinges of pain again.

The problem is, I'm sure that this solution cannot last forever. There'll come a time when the pain will come back. So the only painless way to prevent the pain from returning looks like for me to continually use this toothpaste. If there's no more free sample, then I've got to buy it from the pharmacy...

Kong Hock Keong (Kuan Im Temple) reopens

The renovations to the collapsed roof at the 214-year old Kong Hock Keong, popularly known as the Kuan Im Temple, are almost fully completed but the temple trustees have already opened up Penang's oldest Chinese temple in Pitt Street, George Town, to the general public even as restoration work is still continuing.

The main entrance into the Kong Hock Keong.

 The main hall of the Kuan Im Temple. No joss sticks, no urns, no devotees praying.

The interior of the Kong Hock Keong is sparklingly clean. The old roof beams have been replaced and new tiles line the roof tops. The deities have all been given fresh coats of paint and new capes.  They look new but of course, I know that many of them are more than a hundred years old. Some, to my understanding, may even be closer to two hundred years.

The inner hall of the Kuan Im Temple.

A more significant change is that the temple authorities have now disallowed worshippers from burning joss sticks and paper within the temple premises. However, it was uncertain to me whether anyone could bring in their lit joss sticks into the building. The short time that I was at the Kong Hock Keong, nobody did.

Yes, "thank you," indeed. :-)

So where could people actually kneel down to pray? As far as I could make out, the temple authorities had placed two long rows of a low platform on the ground between the lion guardians. (You can also see them in the first picture.) People are requested to kneel here, I suppose, unshaded from the elements, whether it be the hot sun or the wet rain.

I didn't see anyone kneeling down under the hot sun! Would you?

   
All the old brass urns have been replaced with aluminium or stainless steel ones, and these are lined up in the open forecourt facing the entrance. A metal shelter has been erected there but I wonder whether or not this is going to be a permanent feature. The structure is definitely incongruent with the heritage status of the temple. It is ill fitting, out of place amidst our history and culture. Can be better designed. The temple trustees should consider alternatives. Public opinion is important. Practicality is also important.

The modern urns in the front courtyard

George Town by day, George Town by night

Buildings looked bigger at night than in the daytime, yes, no? Actually, what you see below were just tricks on the eye. Despite the height of the KOMTAR tower being relatively the same, the two pictures were taken from different perspectives and angles.

It so happened that I had a lot to do yesterday and consequently, I spent about 12 hours out on the island. I chose to travel by the Penang ferry on the outbound trip and came back via the Penang bridge. After the rains of the past two or three days, the haze cleared up and the sky was remarkably clear. Especially so at nighttime from the bridge, the lights of George Town and Butterworth were really brilliant.

I took some snapshots and I would like to think that these two pictures were the most representative from my little camera: daytime from the ferry and nighttime from the bridge. And as you know, the ferry and bridge provide completely different viewpoints altogether.

Thank you for voting Barisan Nasional

The people of Malaysia are now paying the price for the wanton spendings of a reckless federal government. Not just of this Najib regime alone, but also that of the Mahathir and the Badawi regimes. Your support of their corruption and blatant lies has now come back to haunt everybody!