(1301)Life Bores Dreams Galore

Lately a few minibus drivers caught COVID. As a result, the entire private minibus service to town was halted. Therefore I no longer am able to get new books from the public library in town.

The brain is a marvelous organ. What drama I lacked in real life began to appear as dreams at night. Let me relate a hilarious one from this morning, right before I woke up. I was brought in as a Chinese language examiner taking part in a meet-the-missionary-candidates to China. (Really this could be the worst time to send missionary to China as there was a wave of crackdowns and deportations.)

It was raining cats and dogs during the dinner date. Yet dinner was still served in the garden! It was an interesting sight seeing the wives of leaders and other serving ladies in rain gear and holding umbrellas.If that was not funny enough, the tables began to sink into the swilling mud. That was a frightening sight! Just like in most dreams, there was no logic. Folks rescued the best vase, picked up the most expensive crystal goblets... The person in charged was calmly telling me that the boss had ten tables like that. Well! If you say so, I thought. Three tables disappeared from sight. In the impossible way of dreams, it was like a job done on an ordinary day. Everyone was very matter of fact dealing with the situation.

The usual questions were asked during dinner. The expected answers were given. Meanwhile, we ladies were observing and choosing our own candidates. For example, the number two candidate just won't do as he seemed a most finicky eater who picked at his food. The Chinese as a race places great emphasis on enjoying good food. To fit in as a missionary in China, one should love food. Well, number five should not go as he was visually undressing every shapely lady server. Number seven was just going along with everything for a subsidised trip, anyway.

But of course not a single decision maker was of the fairer sex. Perhaps ten to twenty thousand dollars would be spent sending a test team to some busy, impersonal part of a city in China. No harm was done. After all, there was still a lot more money left in the coffers yet.

(1300)Fried Rice (Three)

During my college years, one of my hostesses taught me how to mass produce Vietnamese egg rolls. Her church ladies sold it every Sunday afternoons in front of different supermarkets to raise funds in aid of new Vietnamese refugees in town.

Armed with the know-how of frying rice and egg-roll making, I had cooked for every host family I visited. Usually I would choose a Friday dinner to take advantage of using leftovers and excess ingredients in the fridge. Most mistresses of the kitchens appreciated this conversion of odds and ends into a delicious main meal.

It was during one of these visits that I used an electrical wok. That enabled me to stirfry, which was normally impossible with frying pans. Minor frying could be done using a heavy base stainless steel soup pot. Till now I could walk into any kitchen and hustle up a simple meal should the need ever arise.

(1299)Fried Rice (Two)

Once I smuggled a bowl of Asian student fried rice to our affable cafeteria manager. I didn't realise he shared it with four other cooks.

Thereafter before an Asian fare was attempted, someone would ask me about things that was not clear. Actually I knew nothing about Japanese and Korean food. They were not commonly available in the seventies in my country. Since I could hardly be called a cook, I rounded up my Chinese counterpart, my fellow Malaysian and a Pakistani senior to answer all of their queries.It was really funny to see professional cooks taking cooking tips from them about ethnic cuisines.

In my senior(4th) year, I had a floor mate who was 67 years old. She rallied a few Starkiens (students housed in a former infirmary) and we produced a special meal out of individual donations of food, money or labour. I remembered the cafeteria manager was invited and he was really impressed. It was a delicious meal, cooked by six students, representing Virginia, New England, Southern and Texas cuisine. It was a meal no single household could offer because of the diversity and authentic recipes used.

I was the vegetable washer and cutter for the 7-layered salad. I must say that it was the best salad I had ever tasted in my entire life because of the secret sauce made from the recipe of Betty's grandma.

Subsequent to that meal, I was asked to demonstrate the Asian way of slicing broccoli and cauliflower into bite-size twigs or florets. I had thought that commercial or mass cooking would not allow such a technique. Imagine that during one of the last meals I had in college, the cooking staff took the trouble to slice their cauliflower the Asian way for a side dish. It was beautiful and it tasted much better. Perhaps that was why a homogenously white college would offer finantial aid and scholarships to attract international students to be represented in its midst.

(1298)Fried Rice (One)

As a teenager at home, I avoided the kitchen. Believe me, kitchens and implements are fraught with perils for a dyslexic. I have had a life-long handicap, when combining sequential actions with time factor built in, would always rattle me and reduce me to accidents and tears.

As a foreign student in North America, I missed rice. It was so bad that I dreamed often about Yong Chow Fried Rice. Every opportunity I had, I would cook a student version of fried rice. My partners in the dormitory kitchens were Choo Lien Li from China and Cookie Lee from a city 200km from my hometown. Cookie was a name given by a Cypriot fellow student. We would pool our resources and walk 2km to buy cheap ingredients. A bag of long grain rice would cost $1.12. Two big onions would cost $0.25. A tray of minced meat could be $2.83. A thin stack of egg roll wrappers could be $1.75. With that, we could have a feast of American college fried rice and deep fried wantons. I would volunteer to walk to Kroger. After one disaster of burning something, I was relegated to only wrapping wantons and dish washing.

We were each really tiny in size. Yet with a few dorm mates sampling our food,there was nothing left of what we cooked, except some uncooked rice. None of us were plump. But how we could eat! We really enjoyed our own cuisine. I forgot to mention that the cooking oil came from our appreciative food tester Marion who lived in Okinawa for two years. Soy cauce came from Katherine the self-professed Chinese-take-out queen. Tabasco sauce came from Lee's room mate who loved Cajun food. For readers who tried to estimate the cost, each partner paid $2.00. There was five cents or a nickle left for the next purchasing trip.

(1297)Early Tutoring

I am the youngest child in my family. However, when my elder cousin was born, her parents were living with us. It was exciting and such a joy to have a newborn in the house.

When my cousin was three, her little family moved a block away with my grandma. Each morning grandma would come visit with her and stay for lunch. One Saturday, they did not turn up. By ten o'clock mom sent me over with some freshly cooked braised pork to check on them. You could blow me over with a feather, I saw my cousin sitting on a 6-inch plastic seat on a normal dinner chair. She was being tutored in Arithmetic. My aunt shrugged and said she did all she could, but my cousin still could not comprehend addition and subtraction. It was time to bring in an experienced teacher to help.

Tutoring a pre-school child was unheard of in the early seventies. Around that time I started tutoring an 11-year-old boy in English. It was a close-to-impossible task, as I taught and retaught simple vocabulary and tenses week after week. I was 13 years old that year. Even at that time I realised a person may be good at some things but quite slow in others. My pupil was slow in picking up English but good in Math and Science taught in Chinese. Perhaps it was a good idea to start early. After all, family yarns credited me with the ability to count up to 100 coconut sweets accurately at age three. It was perfectly reasonable to expect my cousin to be able to add single digits at the age of three.

Half a century has passed. Looking back, my cousin was a most fortunate little girl. Her mum had actually implemented early intervention. Chances were nobody did call her stupid nor laugh at her weakness in arithmetic. Truly she never excelled in maths, but she did not fail. She dropped the subject as soon as she could.

(1296)The Sneer

Sofia, who normally has much to say, confessed that even she was unable to correct Lucas when there was a certain look on his face. Lucas was Ben's playmate and Ben is Sofia's son. Each boy was often found at each other's house during the weekends and holidays.

This was what was said during a ladies' meeting. Quite a few ladies ended what they were saying quite abruptly to hear about this look that would even stop Sofia's ever flowing commentary. According to Sofia, It was a certain curling of Lucas' lips. She attempted to purse her lips in imitation of the 10-year-old's expression.

When I got home, I asked my husband and Keziah (my last school-going child). The former could not catch head nor tail of what I was saying. Keziah, however, had seen that look. She was a few years older than Lucas and was friends with Lucas' sister. Keziah had noticed Lucas sneering at his sister once. Keziah was of the opinion that when Lucas sneered, one should stop talking and save one's breath. Nothing would go into his thick skull just then.

All that happened a good 14 years ago. Interestingly after Lucas graduated, he asked for a year's break. His family gave him six months to rest. At that point of time, no one thought that those particular six months would be of any significanse. Yet as events developed, his sixth month ended on March 2020, the very month that COVID-19 hit Malaysia with the first wave. Most people were forced to work from home unless they were in what the Government termed essential industry. It is now November 2020, Lucas did get his one entire year of break and more. Yet with the economy stagnating and perhaps even shrinking in certain sectors, how was he going to get a job as a fresh graduate with no working experience?

I would not call Lucas stiff-necked, yet he could be rather hard headed sometimes. Perhaps it was not by chance that he was handed a difficult hand in his young life.

(1295)Three Million

Chatting with my fashionable friends in the capital city, it seemed folks were saying it would take three million in investment before a couple could safely retire for life.

Depending on the interest rate, that meant $10,000 to $12,000 a month, an annual income of maybe $144,000. With that amount of disposable cash, one could have a graduate Filipino maid. Living next to a golf course would not be a hiccup. Master and Mistress could run separate cars. Club and gym membership would cause no sweat. Missus could still purchase a branded new handbag every 6 months or so. Yearly vacation overseas would be a given. Eating out a few times a week at premium places would enhance one's lifestyle.

The strange thing is, I have known quite a few millionairesses, who lived quite near the bare bone right above the poverty level. There was Crystal's friend Rea, whom everyone thought Rea was as poor as a church mouse. She died of a massive stroke while watching a black and white TV given by a well-wisher. After the bodies (Rea and her invalid mom) were removed by the authorities, bank books and deposit certificates were found in the master bedroom as well as ten title deeds of shop buildings in Silver City. Mother and daughter jointly owned no less than $10 million cash, apart from receiving rent from pricey real estate.

In 2008, Madam Loi who helped manage Soo Peng's finance said the latter had $3.5 million. Among friends, everyone encouraged her to buy a new condo and hire a maid. There was not much point in hoarding that amount as she was well over 60 years old. All our advice remained useless words. Soo Peng lived in her deceased parents' old house and bickered with her sisters over a few cents. Recently we heard of her passing, she was the very last of her family to depart. We wondered how her wealth would affect her maid, lawyer, her many nieces and nephews; or would the government benefit?

I have a good friend who was known for the congenial parties she threw while we were single. Once she inherited millions from her dad, she somehow became another person. I wonder if she was still counting thirty-five cents in Perth? Her poor Indonesian maid was reprimanded for boiling an extra egg one lunch time.

A final thought: what is going to happen to Soo Peng's sisters' ashes kept in urns behind the coffin shop in Silver City? Did Soo Peng really left instructions in her will to finally put them to rest in a proper place? Money could be used as a good tool. But it could also become Mammon the slave driver, if a person becomes obssessed over it.

(1294)Shanghai

One of my daughters found a part-time job with a Shanghainese woman. My deceased grandma used to say that out of the entire mainland China, Shanghainese women were the hardest nuts to crack. When I met Choo Lien in Virginia, she was the very first Shanghainese I met. After about a year of being friends, one day I asked her if that statement was true in China. She did not deny it but claimed that her mum and her were different because they followed Jesus. I asked what about Beijing or Nanking, why was it that the women in mega cities did not get that reputation? She said that for hundreds of years Shanghai had been a cosmopolitan port. It was very difficult for women to survive there, especially women who worked at selling things on the street. It took ruthlessness, persistence and ingenuity to exist and bringing up offspring there.

The thought of surviving in pre-Communist China brought to mind that it was not easy to survive after the takeover. My uncle, who lived most of his life in Mainland China, said that the Great Leap Forward and the Cultural Revolution had killed off virtually all the upright, brave or courageous people in that country. To me, he was upright, honest and principled, at least that was my impression as a 33 year old niece visiting. He replied that he owed his life to his politically savvy wife. There were many instances where she had stopped him from acting out or speaking up during those turbulent and terrible days.

We see China as the economic power house and I was really tickled when I heard that Saudi Arabia has made Chinese the compulsory second language in their schools. With Covid-19 rampaging, it is most unlikely I would visit China in the forseeable future.

(1293)#Golden Rule

During my happy sojourn of 12 years in Silver City, a good portion of my weekday afternoons were spent in Angeline's kitchen. She is a practical homemaker like I am. We are both fond of our children, keep our houses reasonably clean, and cook because we need to eat.

Her husband was a regional manager in his field who often travelled to distant cities for meetings. He invariably brought back sachets of green tea from those five star hotels he stayed in. Angeline kept them carefully, as our afternoon's highlight was those two cups of hot green tea. Sometimes she took the first infusion, other times she gave me the better cup. So we keep ourselves to one tea bag per afternoon, maybe two or three visits a week.

Contrasting her to my mother-in-law, the latter would serve herself the best of every item before everyone else. Of course with a table full of yummy dishes cooked at home or restaurant-bought, it did not matter who took what. At the end of the meal, everybody would be satiated and happy. Yesterday I looked at Angeline's Facebook update, I saw a photo of her family, including a new son-in-law and her lovely daughter-in-law with two grandchildren. We seldom talk now because she resides in Singapore. As the border is practically closed, we probably would not see each other, whether this year or the next. Knowing her, she practises the golden rule with everyone around her. I have no doubt that both her daughter-in-law and son-in-law would be very fond of her.

(1292)Branding Talent

We are facing a mild form of lockdown now in Sabah. Daily I find myself relating my childhood incidences to my son.

My scientist brother was a rather accomplished woodworker since he was in primary school. He built a school desk, chair, a book shelf and a wooden box. The school desk broke after our move from Petaling Jaya to Ara Damansara. The school chair is still being used in front of my mum's house. The bookshelf has been downgraded to hold slippers. I think the box must have finally found its way to the maker's storeroom.

When my cousin was three years old, she was fascinated with the school desk. It was of a design that opened the drawer from the top. As she was playing with the swinging top, she asked me,"Who made this?" Getting the answer, she went to ask my finance brother what he did make. He pointed to the aquarium holding guppies. My cute cousin asked me with wide eyes,"What did you make?" I indicated my simple blouse and skirt as well as the big bow on her head. Being mischievous, I asked her what would she make? Using wood and nails? Using cement and glass? Or using cloth and ribbons?

She pondered for a minute. She rubbed her forehead and said,"I make stories with exciting words in my brain." Today she is a noted talent in Branding.

(1291)Wasp Nest

When I was a preschooler, I asked my dad why did he removed all wasps' nest, but left a bird nest built under the eaves alone. We lived in one unit of a long row of wooden houses back then. My dad explained that wasps stung people, therefore we do not want any wasps living in close proximity. Birds are friendly creatures. We should be highly honoured if wild birds chose to nest next to our house. He went on to talk about how smart animals are. Birds would not nest in flood-prone areas. They would choose to nest near kindly and peaceful folks who live in harmony with nature.

My second brother heard that and went investigating. There was a neighbour living nearby that we nicknamed Fierce Mother Hen. She was quarrelsome with her own family, and often found fault with the others who lived nearby. My brother and I certainly did not find a single wasp nest in front, nor behind her house. Of course no bird would nest in her back yard as she chased all of them away. The interesting fact was that we could not find any trace of ants crawling towards, or away from outside her house. It seemed all kinds of ants avoided her house totally. From chatting with her children, I found that she would constantly scald every ant in sight with boiling water. After living there for a few years, one day the family moved away suddenly. Apparently white ants (termites) proliferated in that unit since no other ants went there. The unfortunate lady's furniture was damaged. The landlord evicted them to repair the structural damage caused by termites.

It was true what the ancient Chinese wrote about animals and humans co-existing side by side in texts recorded hundreds of years ago. My dad read widely although he did not have much schooling. That was a long time before the modern terms like being green, environmentally friendly, limiting our carbon footprint... My brother who was interested in our environment as a child is today a scientist specialising in electronic engineering. I, who was curious and being a chatterbox as a little girl, am still interested in people and often write articles describing human foibles. This morning I found my son removing wasp nests built right by my front door. I found myself telling him the lessons my dad taught me more than half a century ago.

(1290)Being grateful

I was chatting with my local friend in Starbucks. The phrase of 'gratefulness despite bad fortune' brought out my tale of the Indonesian friend who received most of my household goods in 2017 (as recorded in a much earlier blog post). My friend asked me where is the Indonesian friend now?

Well! She could be in Tivoli in her own tiny wooden house near the airport. Or she could be in her elder son's plantation looking after grandchildren, that would be about two hours by car from the former capital of Borneo. Possibly she could be with her second son in Sembawang. But wherever she could be, she would no longer be travelling by public bus from town to town. Her work permit has expired. She is too old now to qualify for legal employment. As an illegal person she has to be mindful of staying below the radar. By now she has spent slightly more than half of her life working legally in this state. It is very sad that a law-abiding person like her could not apply for proper residency permit to stay on. Both her sons work here on permits. It simply would not make sense for her to go back to a country she has no one close enough, to return to.

(1289)#Tiger Mom

I met and befriended a widow while I stayed near the General Hospital in Silver City. She was a kind soul. Although she was 76 years old, she regularly shopped for the shut-ins within walking distance of her house. One of her 'clients' was an 87-year old, a mother of 10 children. The "client's" husband died ten years before that. Her surviving children were six boys, and two girls. Somehow, out of that, she was estranged from all her sons. Still, the eldest daughter came to wash the old mother's clothes twice a week. This daughter was 68 years old. The youngest daughter would come once a month from a city two hours away, bearing rice and other staples. The 'client' must have treated each child differently. What had happened to the six sons and their families? Why did each of the six leave their aged mother to live alone, never visiting or sending money? I could not even guess what had happened, until I met Mei Ling in China while visiting my uncle's family. Mei Ling worked as an hourly-paid maid for a few families in the neighbourhood. She had five children, three daughters and two sons.

First came Fish and Veron, a pair of identical twins girls. They were both qualified accountants. Next we have Apple, a female teacher posted to Tibet. The fourth, Archie and the youngest, Jude, were adopted fraternal twins. Both were lawyers, Archie worked in Shanghai, and Jude in Beijing.

All these grown children had good jobs and were married. One would think that Mei Ling would be living in clover. As things went, Mom made Fish and Veron work hard for many, many years, to pay for their younger siblings' education. Once the youngest graduated, Mei Ling released the accountants from supporting her, for life.

Perhaps because a teacher earned far less than accountants, Mei Ling did not ask for monthly contribution from Apple. Every year she visited Tibet and enjoyed being taken on sightseeing trips. Archie, the elder twin, sent two hundred Yuan every month to Mom, citing high living standards in Shanghai. Jude sent one hundred from Beijing, giving the reason that his wife earned far less than him. Poor Mei Ling could not live on their three hundred and her little pension, therefore she went out to oblige her richer neighbours. It was interesting to note that the further away an offspring lived from old mum, the latter thought better of him or her and did not expect too much from them. As Fish and Veron lived close by, the old lady expected far too much, and kept finding fault with them. The mother could not say one thing good about either of them. She was proud of the two lawyers who were far away from her, and sang praises of the teacher who hosted her yearly. Listening to Mei Ling abusing the two nearby daughters verbally, I could sympathise with them for being wary of her.

Going back to my widow friend's 'client', I will describe an update I heard recently:- The number 7 son came back to visit his old mum with thoughtful, though not very costly gifts. A neighbour happened to be visiting the old ady and witnessed the entire incident. Old mum was sarcastic and abusive in her comments. When the son gave her an ang pow (red packet containing money), she opened it and found four $50 bills. She was livid, all of his small gifts and the money from the red packet, was flung out of her door. She shouted a tirade of abuses and scolded him for giving her so little to last a whole year. The poor young man picked up the money, bundled up the gifts and walked sadly away to wait for a bus. He was poor, and had saved for an entire year to come back to see his aged mum. It would mean a trip on three different buses, before he would finally reach his rented room half a day later in a far-off city.

(1286)Semi-Charmed Kind of Life

My friend's daughter was spoilt by the latter's grandparents.

When both old folks passed on, she went to her parent's and raised havoc. As a 23-year-old, she had not worked outside the house before. There was no physical deformity. Neither was she mentally unhinged.

For a few months, she went into a charity training program to become a hairdresser. That did not last long as she quarrelled with the trainers. For a week, she tried to work for an NGO (non-government organisation) running a soup kitchen. There were disagreements with the founder. For another week, she went to help as an intern in a farm in Kedah. She was set to return there for a 3-month stint on a small stipend. But alas, she also fell out with the manager.

Other posts did not last more than 4 days. Sometimes she was dismissed, and other times she resigned in a huff. Therefore when she obtained a temporary position, hourly paid, in the midst of a COVID shutdown, none of us dared to hope it would last.

Of course friends and well-wishers have been praying for her for months. The night before the second shut down of the nation's capital, I woke to full alertness at 3am and started praying for her employers. Right before sunrise, I had such peace in my heart that I knew all would be well. At that moment, there was a sense that if within 24 hours she did not leave her hostel, she would stay at that job for at least 3 months. As things developed, she did not quit. During the lock down, no one could legally transport her and her belongings across state lines. Neither could she take the subway if she was not going to work at an essential job. Should anyone be caught, it would mean $1000 fine and jail time. Going to jail is eesentially a guarantee of catching COVID. Punishment would be meted out to transporter and passenger alike. Circumstances were such, that she was forced to stay through the difficult teething period of adjusting to a new job. Not even a spoiled brat could escape from the hand of God, even though she led a charmed life for the past 23 years.

(1285)Saga of a Foreign Wife

I met her when I started teaching Drama in an after-school adventure centre. She hailed from Pakistan. Apparently, at the 'ripe' old age of 26, she was a disgrace to her parents because nobody asked for her hand in marriage.

Her parents prepared to send her to an arranged marriage in Malaysia. Before she met her husband, she knew 3 things about him: his parents are rich, he is single and he has no criminal records. Her mom spent hours, and thousands preparing her dowry. She was given gold and jewels, hidden from prying eyes, so that if everything failed and she was alone in a strange land, she would have enough valuables to pawn, to pay for her own airfare to safely fly home. Her parents shed much tears, they were old and infirm, she was their only beloved sole daughter, apart from six sons. On top of that, she was the youngest.

As my acquaintance with Mrs Sahar deepened, her entire life story poured out of her like a waterfall. Her husband could not keep any job to feed himself, much less his wife and children. Her position in the house was worse than that of a normal nanny. As soon as her younger son left for an education in Britain, her mother-in-law told her to get employment immediately, or else her in-laws would stop feeding her. That day, she spent her bath time crying, bewailing her fate, trying to decide if it was the right time to go back to Pakistan.

A stubborn side of her rose up and protested angrily: No! I'm not going to run away and lose my sons. She has two tall, handsome, intelligent and kind boys. The very next day, she started her quest to look for a job. It was by no means easy, as she had no need to work in Pakistan. All of her years in Malaysia, was spent slaving in the kitchen and serving her in-laws' household. At 56 years old, holding a red IC(permanent resident), who would want to hire her, a woman with no qualifications or work experience?

There were two things in her favour, she speaks excellent English and she drives. The following week after that ultimatum, she meekly drove her mother-in-law around town. After entering a coffee shop, the mean old lady would not even allow her to order a drink, so she excused herself and walked to a nearby bookshop. After all, her husband had asked her to buy 3 receipt books. She took her own sweet time browsing and making her purchase. On her way back to the coffee shop, she saw a help wanted ad, for a receptionist at an after-school centre. That was how she came to be employed. Being bright, cheerful and friendly, she made many new friends, myeself being one of her moral supporters, during her interlude of being persecuted by her mother-in-law, or getting bullied by our boss.

Mrs Sahar owned an old Nokia handphone. Soon, only a select few of us(teachers and mothers), would call her to check on her status. One of us taught her how to wrangle a pay increase. She was initially paid $450 (no EPF, no socso) monthly for 4 hours of work, six days a week (Monday being our rest day). But by the time she was working 8 straight hours for six days a week, her pay stayed the same. Incidentally, our boss did not have Mrs Sahar's telephone contact, both landline or handphone, as Mrs Sahar claimed both she and her husband were renting a room together on her employment form. Her husband and her mother-in-law planned a one-week trip out o town to attend a wedding. she boldly took no-pay leave to supposedly "care" for her father-in-law at home. In actual fact, Mrs Sahar left the house for work, but drove to and hid in a young mother's house near the after-school centre. A few of us had scouted out the route she would take and found a hiding spot for her to park her old junk of her car out of sight, from both her in-law and our boss. Mrs Sahar was so good with the babies and super efficient i nthe kitchen, that the grateful mother willingly paid her $200 for her one week's help.

At the end of that one week, Mrs Sahar tried to extend for another 3 days, but our boss threatened to fire her. She had full confidence of getting another job. After negotiating back-and-forth, in the end, our boss incresed her pay to $750 per month. Even then, Mrs Sahar was still paid less than an Indonesian maid.

At 57 years old, Mrs Sahar contracted chicken pox. In her own words, she dragged her old carcass to the toilet by crawling on the floor. Even her tormentors, both the mother-in-law and father-in-law, were honestly terrified that she would die soon, looking at Mrs Sahar's prolonged suffering. She did not eat any solid food for 10 days straight. Her husband mixed cup after cup of warm milk, from milk powder, to give his wife energy. Her mother-in-law even grudgingly boiled barley water with a pinch of sugar, for her to drink. Two weeks after Mrs Sahar was confined to bed, our boss finally increased her pay to one thousand dollars, and started an EPF account for her, to lure Mrs Sahar to return back to work.

Mrs Sahar herself was amazed that her crop of friends were so kind to her. She knew for a fact that in Pakistan during her younger days, women were subservient to men, and was often very petty with each other. Here in the capital city of Malaysia, middle-class women tend to be super supportive of one another. After all, most are married with the same types of husband and children problems. So it is up to the keepers of the hearth to rise up and help each other, than to pull one another down.

(1284)Herbal Mixtures

I have a cousin who grew up in her paternal grandparents' household. Her dad passed away in a car accident. Her mum went to work in the Middle East as a nurse and remarried to a Filipino man there.

During the final illness of our grandfather, he seemed to be delirious and repeatedly told me that his wife was involved in witchcraft. I was a little surprised to hear him talk so insistently as normally he was a man of few words. Well, one should not encourage a patient in his delirium. Neither did I take what he said seriously. It could have just been a fancybecause his mind was wondering.

A few years later, our grandmother passed on also. My youngest aunt, who was unmarried, was cleaning the old house and throwing away the grandparents' effects with my cousin mentioned above. I happened to be visiting that part of the country and went to take a last look at the old house before it was to be sold.

My aunt showed me old photo albums and allowed me to choose a few as keepsakes. In the course of the conversation, she told me she threw a fair amount of herbal preparation. There were packets of powders with Thai scripts and quite a few were made in Indonesia.

Shortly after that I visited an old friend in Silver City had long chats with her long-serving maid. Apparently, married Indon maids would buy herbal preparation, usually in a pair. Before leaving home, they would swallow the first portion to stop their period. Keeping the second pack, they would then take when returning home for good. According this maid from a hilly part of Jawa, she believes that one could purchase similar products of different brands in most of the islands of Indonesia. As far as she knows, her relatives and friends have used such products and no one had any undesirable side effects.

After listening to what one person said, I dutifully went for a second opinion. When I had a chance, I asked my neighbour's maid who hailed from Sulawesi and had been woriking in Sabah for the past thirty years. She told me more or less the same thing and even offered to buy me a pair. She said it was available in Indon shops in town.

It is commonly known in the extended family that my cousin had never menstruated before. She is almost forty years old now. My grandma was adamant that her granddaughter was born defective and resolutely refused to let anyone take her to the hospital. Since she had no father and her mum was away, there was no one willing to go against the fierce old lady. Who knows? Maybe my grandfather was trying to tell me something in a rather indirect way which I did not undeerstand until it was too late.

Linking all the invisible threads above, I wonder if my aunt and cousin had unwittingly thrown away the second half of the herbal preparation. Anyway, it probably does not matter anyway. My cousin has decided not to marry and is earning a stable income looking after children others entrusted her with.

(1283)Ayam Wild

Opposite to my current place of abode we find a green belt of perhaps 80 hectars. It is rather low lying land that turns swampy in the rainy season.

Quite a few years ago, I happened to over hear a little girl ,who was the daughter of a nearby coffee shop owner, telling a server that wild chickens were found opposite the shop among the trees. Being curious, I asked if they had seen them. Both of them nodded their heads. When asked if it was male or female, the little girl said she saw a mother hen.

Lately I have been spending a lot of day light hours on my balcony. Apart from driving the car once in every two days, going to buy food for cooking; I read and write while enjoying the barmy breezes on the front broad balcony. After all, one could not go out at will, noone could eat out. How often could a person eat take out food that turns cold and soggy. If I managed to write a few pages, I am a happy woman. One could only read so many hours a day. In between, I saw two black feathered chickens walked out from the shadows of big trees, pecked at comething and retreated into the greenery.

Much of my free time in between cooking and cleaning I spent watching the endless line of cars queueing to purchase fast food. I also notice the trend of Food Panda and Grab Food delivery men. Sunday morning at 10:30am is the absolute peek, I counted five green Grab Food guys and nine pink Food Panda guys. Dinner rush starts at 4:30pm or so as the last order by car owners might end as early as 5:20 pm or as late as 5:50pm if stock holds.The takeaway guys work until seven something, everyone would be expected to go home by eight.

It is inyeresting that the normal household could only eat so much home cooked healthy food for so long. One yearns for fried chicken and deep fried fries for a change. Whatever business seafood, Western, Japanese, Korean... restaurants lose out of, Western fast food take away joints are reaping a lion share of the disposable income because consumers feel safe in the contactless drive through way of collecting yummy food.

(1282)CMCO

This is the second day of CMCO in this town. CMCO probably stands for Conditional Movement Control Order. Sanitation workers came yesterday to dig and suck out of the sewerage channel. That happened at least twice a year.

My son said the only oxidation plant he had seen in town is near our landlord's expensive condominium a mile or so away. It seems that Indah Water (semi government body taking care of waste water) does not exist here. Human waste simply flows out of the sewer through river to the sea. What people take for granted in the Peninsular are not found here.

It is also part of life to put up with patchy handphone reception in certain part of the residential area here. The first house I rented was within walking distance from the only golf course. My neighbour, a young man about to be married, could be found standing in the middle of the deserted road in front of our houses chatting with his fiancee around midnight the few nights before his wedding day. That was the only spot he could find uninterrupted signal to carry on a telephone conversation with his beloved.

What I described above was superceded by a native student who had to build a simple shelter on top of a tall tree which grew atop a hill so she could take her semester exam using an old laptop catching barely sufficient signal. That happened when all college students had to return home and made do with online lessons because of COVID-19.

On the other hand I am most grateful for uninterrupted water and electrical supply. Folks in my old neighbourhood in Selangor were having no water supply because of unlicensed business people dumping chemical waste on the water catchment area. Instead of suffering the preannual haze, I am enjoying clean air with daily sea breeze.

While the population in Malaysia is not alarmingly high, already the water and air pollution levels reached dangerous levels. For a country densely polulated like Indonesia, COVID-19 spread like wild fire. It does not help when certain people groups threatened medical people with deadly weapons insisting on taking dead bodies which had been disinfected and sealed back to their homes so that loved ones could see, touch, clean and kiss the dead. Even though doctors and health officials knew the consequences of that, they had no choice but to give in to the armed and crazed groups.

It does seem like the worst enemy of human beings are themselves. When population becomes too high, things would happen to cut the numbers down. Perhaps that was how the past civilizations ended abruptly.

(1281)Garden Spells by Sarah Addison Allen

This is the very first time I found Reader's Digest condensed books in a Sabah State Library. It is a wonderful treat.

It is interesting to read about how combinations of foods and herbs affect us positively and negatively. It is really no surprise as we are what we eat. Years ago I was sitting at my grandma's knees listening to her woes of taboo food. Eating certain vegetables caused back aches. Of course that was really nonsense to me then. As a child I could eat that and not suffer any pain. Not long ago I heard my mum had to avoid some food, not necessarily the same list as my grandma. Ancient Chinese medicine texts claimed those food and vegetables as "cooling". Sadly after my battle with carcinoma, I too had to be careful with what I eat.

My grandma's reserves of calcium was possibly low. She was poor for most part of her life. She was loving towards her children and grand children. She kept the best part of the meal for me and my brothers. I suspect that her aches and pain was due to low calcium level in the blood when she hit her mid-fifties. My mum has had adequate nutrition since her early thirties after dad's promotion. She began suffering aches and pains in her seventies. She has had arthritis and high blood pressure since her early fifties.

Lately I realised I have to stay off certain grains apart from rice and wheat. I suspect those alternate source of carbohydrates used up my precious source of B complex. I have a functional deficiency of Vitamin B. That means that while I do have sufficient supply of Vitamin B in my body (according to the need of a normal person), my body might burn off most of it under stress. By consuming Marmite (brewer's yeast) takes care of the lack and eliminate the pain. Marmite is equivalent to Borvil and Vegemite, I think.

(1280)Orbit by John Nance

Imagine you are trapped in a space craft doomed in all practical purposes, all the thoughts that run through your head are read in real time by those who cared to on earth, that was this tale.

As far back as I could remember, writing was easy for me. By age nine, I was earning a dollar here and two dollars there submitting articles to Children's Sections in Chinese Dailies. At thirteen I was an up and coming writer in a teen literary Chinese magazine. In 1981 I chose to attend a women's college well known for creative writing. I took exactly two courses in the English Department. In expository writing, a second level course, I wrote a term paper featuring the life of my maternal grandmother. The following year, I took an Independent Study which is a third year course and produced eight Chinese folktales.

Over the years, I taught English, brought up children and dabbled in special education. On the side, I continued to write. Once my children are grown, I started blogging. Over 36 years, I decided not to publish. That was until I faced death in the hospital. Once I recovered, I overcome the fear of revealing myself through my writing. Of course I still use a pen name and avoided using a current photo in my books.

Why? It just seemed a waste that if I had died, no one would bother about publishing whatever I have written and left behind. At that point of time, I no longer fear publicity. I no longer am bothered by the fear of not being accepted or liked. In fact, the feared attack did come. I was chastised for publishing folk tales written before I became a Christian. Nothing can take away my ethnic heritage. After I chose Jesus, does it make me less of a Chinese? I don't think so. Thank God I could just skip town and change church. Here in my second lease of life, I am an old woman minding my own business, living quietly and still writing.

(1279)No Time for Goodbye by Linwood Barclay

Imagine a teenage girl woke up one day and lost her parents and an only brother. That was the plot of this story.

Years later, she was married with an eight-year-old daughter. Her mum and brother were found at the bottom of a quarry lake in the former's car.

In the best tradition of a thriller, a few more people died before the mystery was unravelled. An interview with the author revealed that this novel started as an idea taken from a news article of one person who disappeared, leaving behind three other family members.

In Peninsular Malaysia, it was rather common to hear of voluntary disappearance of gamblers who incurred in astronomical debts with loan sharks who were ready to torture or shoot them. I have heard of one case where the debtor was sighted in a border town in Thailand. I suppose the remaining family members might migrate to another nation or at least relocate to a town far away leaving no forwarding address.

Sadly, my own cousin decided to stay put in the same house after her husband hanged himself to escape from astronomical debts. She is a Ph.D. candidate and a high level government servant in a small town in the East Coast. It is fortunate that the deceased left behind much money in the Employee Provident Fund (pension fund) and a good sum of life insurance pay-out. Even then, it would probably take a thick skin and stiff upper lip to face down the tittle-tattle of a small town.

(1278)Scared to Live by Stephen Booth

The interesting story is made from many intertwining strands. I am picking up one theme: the desperate desire to have a daughter.

Recently I met a friend's cousin from the countryside. She is in her early thirties with three sons: 9, 6, and 1 year old. She works in the management office of a medium-priced apartment complex. Her husband works as a security guard in a factory nearby.

I have four former classmates: A, B, C, and D. A and B each have one son only. C has 2 sons but no daughter. D has three sons only. A chose to have one son and stopped there. B paid a 5-figure sum to the fertility clinic and was happy with one son. C could not have more children because her husband was adamant they have enough children. D cried at the birth of the third son because she wanted a girl badly.

It is intriguing that A, B, C, and D have been financially stable and could have more children, biological or adoptive. Therefore I was somewhat surprised that my new friend would attempt a fourth pregnancy hoping for a daughter. Economically, having a fourth child may well push her family below the poverty line.

Then I read Scared to Live, it is obviously fiction. In the story, the adoptive mother and two biological sons died in arson. The bereaved husband promptly disappeared even though he was not the arsonist. The grandfather was charged with murder originated from an illegal adoption which led to attempted blackmail.

Perhaps fictions may explain what happens in real life more logically.

(1277)From Cradle to Grave by Patricia MacDonald

I read this book in the Reader's Digest condensed version. The house shown on the original book jacket was like the one I visited on Blenheim Avenue in a small town in Virginia.

Yet the illustration on the condensed book was like the house Jennifer's mum, Mrs N lived in Vermont. It is interesting that architecture brought back fond memories. The family in the Blenheim Avenue house actually turned up for my college graduation. Mrs N's husband actually spent a third of his life tramping in Peninsular Malaysia and Northern Borneo selling explosives and fertilisers to miners and farmers. That was way before the independence of my nation.

This book celebrates friendship and loyalty. I doubt I have the guts to put my life on the line for a friend like Morgan who stuck to Claire through thick and thin. Co-incidentally I went through post-natal blues after the birth of my first child. To a certain extent I could relate to what Claire went through.

This book revealed little about Claire's husband. We know that he was seduced by his step-mother and carried on with her for years. His first wife was actually killed by the step-mother. Claire was very fortunate that Morgan investigated enough to clear her of the double murder charges. I suppose "old sin casts long shadows" summarised this story aptly.

(1276)Half Broke Horses by Jeannette Walls

This true story of Lily Casey Smith beat my grandma's life experience flat. Yet, my grandma was no shrinking violet.

While I self published a small booklet of "Stories My Grandma Told Me" which included a 7-page biography of the old lady I wrote in college as a term paper, Jeannette did a wonderful job with her book.

Ladies who struck out on their own in the bygone years were people with true grit. Nothing would beat them down. Lily spent her early life ranching and breaking carriage horses in USA, my grandma was a peasant planting rice paddy in Southern China.

Lily's first husband two-timed her. My grandpa died probably of a stroke in his late forties. Lily chose a good man and married for a second time. My grandma single-handedly brought up five children, four biological and one adopted.

Lily left home at fifteen and rode her pony 500 miles to her first job in a frontier town. My grandma left China at age 20 to sail to the then Malaya as a mail order bride. Both women were courageous and go-getters. Lily was born in 1901 in West Texas while grandma was born in 1903 in Canton, South China.

It is amazing to me that women in the east and the west of around the same era could possess the same spirit in striking out into the unknown to lead lives they desired.

(1275)Thirteen Hours by Deon Meyer

Table Mountain, South Africa is as exotic a place as I could imagine.

This is the very first book I read that was written in Africa and placed in Cape Town. Reading in between the lines, I noticed tension among the three groups: the whites, the blacks and the coloureds.

While the world is ravaged with COVID-19, it is most unlikely I would ever find the money or courage to visit Cape Town. It is such a blessing that authors like Deon Meyer brought his city to me in a book.

I have enjoyed this book as much as books on murder written by Swedish authors. Apart from TV documentaries, such books allow me to armchair travel.

(1274)Gweilo by Martin Booth

It is a bitter sweet tale of childhood in Hong Kong. "Gweilo" is a term of the Cantonese for white men. An equivalent in Malaysia is "Mat Salleh", and in Thailand it is "Farang".

There is something about Hong Kong that draws me. If I have lots of money, I would probably visit Hong Kong yearly in December around Christmas time. Of course that is not practical right now with COVID and the political instability with China clamping down on the activists in the former crown colony.

My friend Mei argued with me that Singapore is just as safe as Hong Kong, so why do I dread going to Singapore as a vacation spot? Well, Hong Kong has character but Singapore is kind of boring. Even watching women's fashion could be fun in Hong Kong but I hardly look at clothes women wear in Singapore twice. Melbourne and Sydney are as cold as Hong Kong certain months, but I doubt I would visit those cities again.

I may not have travelled to as many countries as my contemporaries, but Hong Kong is definitely my #1 destination if I want to burn a few thousand dollars and there is not protest there.

(1273) Sweet drinks

I grew up in a household where there were usually 12 cases of gassy drinks in the store room from age 9 onwards. When I hit age 21, I stopped taking soft drinks with no prompting from my parents.

My husband came from a home that he only got to drink soft drinks during Chinese New Year or during wedding dinners in restaurants. He seemed to have an unlimited capacity for drinking soft drinks. It is amazing that his blood sugar reading is fairly normal now.

His youngest brother turned diabetic at age 40. His eldest brother still allowed himself unlimited refills on Sunday. On week days he does not allow himself sugary drinks.

Where should a parent draw the line with coke or Fanta? I don't encourage daily drinking, but I think it is destructive to deprive a child totally. Father and mother have to come to an agreement somehow, or else juniors would divide and conquer.

(1272)Regrets

Recently a girl friend asked me if I ever regretted having children. The answer is yes, many a time, when the children were young. Children chopped up a mother's sleep for months or years. One could be exhausted looking after two children under the ages of four. When a mother has a third child and has no helper, she often could be sleep deprived and depressed.

My way to overcome that was to work part time but send my children to a full time babysitter. That way at least I get to catch up with my sleep and perhaps could go out to do something for myself one afternoon a week.

After talking to me, my friend sends her baby to child care 5 days a week. She works from home now and looks after her 8 year old by herself.

(1271)Keeping workers

Six years ago I found a temporary job in Sabah. My son and I would eat lunch in a Chinese coffee shop on Saturdays. For five Malaysian Dollars, we get two meat dishes and one vegetable in single portion on a plate of white rice. Ice Chinese tea and a small bowl of hot soup would come along with the plate. We call it economy or mix rice, a common offering for the poor in this part of the world.

There were three native servers in this shop, two boys and one girl. Today, only two boys remain. The more skilled boy makes and serves drinks; the other collects used crockery, wipes the tables and generally helps the customers.

One morning, a man asked where the girl went. It was about 6:15am. The sun rises early in Sabah as we follow Kuala Lumpur time which is closer to Thai time zone. At that time of the morning, the shop was more or less empty. The lady boss said that it was just too bad that a well trained worker could not in real life be kept too long. Apparently two weeks ago during one lunch time, the rush was just about over. The lady boss was busy collecting money from a table of four. The well trained boy was engaged making drinks. The other boy was in the kitchen assisting the cook. Two customers walked in and stood in front of the food waiting to be served. The girl was holding a drink she made for herself, seated down behind the counter. She was not willing to stand up, put down the cold drink to serve. In the end the lady boss quickly detached herself from answering the customers, passed the change over and hurried to pack lunches. So did the drinks boy, he quickly served the last drink ordered and hurried to pack for the second customer.

After the episode was over, the lady boss chided the girl server. She said next time do put down the drink and serve the waiting customers because everyone at the shop front was busy. The girl kept quiet but did not look happy. The next day she didn't turn up for work. As the girl was monthly paid, she called up at nine am to say she was sick. Then she absented herself for three more days with no further call. By then the male boss took her off the employment list, assuming she left without resigning.

A week later the drinks person asked if the lady boss would take the girl back. The answer was the earlier work contract was broken, should the applicant want the job back, she need to turn up in person to apply. At this point, boss lady sighed. When the girl was in her teens, the boss' family used to house her until she was of age and found friends to rent a house with. The boss' mother used to cook dinners and treat the girl as a family member. That meant free lodging, free transport and free dinners. It seemed that as it goes, the girl has forgotten and was no longer grateful for past deeds and the on going relationship for more than ten years.

(1270) Voice recognition

A friend adopted a child and is home-schooling him. I have met the child six years ago. He is almost 8 now but is reading on the level of a 5-year-old. He is bright and quick but displaced quite a few inversions of the letters.

The child is quite a whiz in getting the maximum use of a smart phone. By using voice recognition, he probably thinks that he could get away with not reading much. After all, with the advance features of an android, one need not write or spell to communicate.

Perhaps in the west he could get away without reading fluently. Here in Asia, I think one has to be able to read to get a job that pays well. The child's adoptive dad is a Canadian citizen. His adoptive mom was born in Sabah. I wonder where he would choose to reside when he grows up.

(1269)Being cheated

Instead of placing a standing order for coffee, I have chosen to collect it from a bus depot.

Normally, my supplier would send it by bus, it costs $7 per parcel. This time she was busy and her friend did her a favour by dropping it at the parcel desk in the bus company, that friend paid $17 instead of $7.

Questioning the receiving clerk, she said the delivery charge was $7 as usual. The sender probably was not watchful, the despatch clerk altered a copy of the invoice stealthily and pocketed the $10. I suppose one should watch counter staff with eagle eyes especially if not familiar with the sending process.

It gives a bad taste in the mouth to be cheated like that. It is a good thing my supplier was fair and she did not load that $10 on me.

(1268) Buying eggs

Recently I bought 10 eggs that were supposed to come from free range chickens. They were good, the egg yolks were more orange in colour than normal commercial eggs.

A week later, I bought 10 for myself and 10 for my good friend. For two months or so, the price was maintained. I paid $4 for 10 small eggs. A few weeks later, my friend caught on and asked me to buy 30 such eggs for her. When I finally went to purchase for her, there was no package of 10, so I bought 30 for her and 30 for myself. This time I paid $15 for 30 eggs, they were a bit bigger. Well, I suppose I am willing to pay more money for good eggs.

That was until I found 2 spoilt eggs in the middle of the tray. I mean, really black and stinky old eggs. It was dinner time, a little too dark to drive to the shop to complain. So I took the easy way out and threw away the bad eggs. Much later I met my friend and she told me there were 3 bad eggs in the middle of her tray. That sounded like the supplier or seller purposely put bad eggs to cheat the consumers.

I complained to the cashier and she said to bring the bad eggs and she would replace. But, really, who would put stinky eggs in plastic bag and keep it until marketing day since I do not shop daily. I simply stopped buying eggs in that shop. That day I saw they have stacks of eggs unsold. I was not the only one who boycotted those eggs. After all I could buy eggs in a dozen places in town or near where I live.

(1267)A collection of books

When I was in Secondary school my library consisted of two classrooms and offered 6500 books. It was considered an average library in a small school.

My cousin Jess owns 7000 to 8000 books. All of them are new, and lovingly handled and stored in boxes with naphthalene balls. When I was visiting her family regularly in the 1990s, we have talked loosely about endowing a foundation to care for the collection. I told her that she needed a premise that is air-conditioned at least 8 hours a day. She needs a librarian or curator full time, that won't come cheap.

When another relative went into will and trust writing, we explored that avenue of leaving the collection to a trust company. Jess said she did not own enough cash for the initial outlay right at her projected death.

She did ask my youngest once if she could leave her substantial collection to be cared for in the future. As my daughter did not own a house, she declined the kind offer as she would have no premise to house the books. In fact, we had a good laugh together when my daughter commented that I would be a better person to care for the books since I was a school librarian for six years. Well, the fact is I am older than Jess 9 years, I may not outlive her that long.

Now my brother's son is 14 years old. He will co-own a three storey dwelling with his brother in the future. Ted loves books, he probably would be a good candidate to be considered by Jess to inherit her books. It is just as well I never have the funds to become a serious collector, else I would have a similar problem.

(1266)Injustice

The great injustice of my life is the fact that both my brothers were sent to English primary school but I was to go to a Chinese school at age 7.

Throughout the six years of torture I had like at least 4 times the amount of homework daily compared to them. You see, pages and pages of Chinese writing and copying had to be done every school day to place the memory into the brain via the muscular-neurological route in order for the child to recognise a character by sight and to recall how to write the character from memory.

So when my brothers went out to play, I stewed at home to complete the regular load of copying and exercises. At the same time, they would laughed at me the slow coach before walking out to have fun. Many years later, after I returned from tertiary education abroad, I found that on my first birthday, my dad told my mum that he believed that I have inherited most of his talents. That sounded most unbelievable, how could any parent know that much at such an early stage? Yet my dad was confident that I could juggle three languages simultaneously.

It was no mean feat to spend six years mastering Chinese (a very difficult language to learn). Then for the next six years to pick up enough Malay and English. One must pass Malay to clear GCE O-level. I am very fortunate that I saw the beauty of all three languages. After O-level, one has two years to improve in English to go abroad. So it seems that my father was correct in estimating my ability to adapt and qualify somehow in all three languages over the years.

Looking back, it would have been a lot easier to obey and follow the path mapped out by my dad and teachers. At birth, my brain was wired to learn Chinese. It was seemingly effortless. Why, I do not know, perhaps the brain was designed to memorise pictorial characters. Of course it helped that I have perfect recall in hearing. Yet it was extremely difficult for me to learn any language that involved the alphabet and phonetic blending. I failed English in Year Five and Malay in Year Six. I even failed the important Malay Trial Exam for GCE O-level. Thank Goodness I miraculously passed Malay in the real exam - that was another story in itself.

Now that I am writing in English, it is of course quite difficult for anyone to believe that I was quite hopeless in English in 1973. In fact I could hardly speak nor write an acceptable sentence in English when I entered Remove, a preparatory year for switching the medium of instruction. Should I decide to obey my dad, I would probably have attended a private Chinese High School on scholarship (offered to me at age 12). After the 13th year of education move onto Taiwan to study Journalism. At the tender age of 12, two of my Chinese language teachers thought I would make a creditable editor in any Chinese newspaper some day. Since I told them my family was not wealthy enough to be able to pay the high fee for private education, probably my kind Headmistress convinced a few rich and influential women to create a special scholarship for me. I declined it in politeness and set my heart to conquer English. Much later I did miraculously won enough aid and a memorial scholarship to attend a college in USA. Looking back, it was sheer stubbornness in being adamant to reinvent the wheel, after all, what is the difference between the first and the second hard fought for scholarships? Either leads to a Bachelor's degree, although in different languages in different countries.

I did not tell my dad the once-in-a-life-time generous offer. He signed my school selection form after extracting a solemn promise from me that I would score a credit in GCE O-level Chinese even though I abruptly switched the medium of instruction to Malay at age 12. That I did. I was fortunate to obtain a Credit 6 at first try. 1 and 2 are distinctions, 3,4,5 and 6 are credits. Being lazy, I just worked hard enough to fulfil my promise to my father. I was cutting things very narrow. If I had hit a 7 then it would mean retaking the single paper until I get a credit. Most of my classmates found it hard to believe that one often knows how much effort and time to put in for a certain grade.

(1265) The Last Testament by Sam Bourne

This name reminded me of The Testament by John Grisham.

Of course if such a will is found, the testament of Abraham of Genesis would be supremely important historically and politically. Yet it is not uncommon to have wills ignored. A family friend passed on and his wife was mum on the location of his will. She thought it was with the 85 year old family lawyer. She did not try to get in touch with him. Neither did she check the safe deposit box jointly owned by her husband and her. Since their only child is half the world away, she did not attempt to help her mom in any way as the death occurred during the lock down period of COVID. It looks like nothing will be done until mom's death. Even then, will the daughter be able to return from USA to claim the inheritance? With COVID and the instability in the US, would a mere PR (permanent resident) dare to leave US soil amidst all manner of executive orders banning folks from returning to US.

Another family with children scattered among a few time zones faced the parent's will which is not practical to execute. They bypassed it and used the LA (Letter of Administration) to access the inheritance. That would be very time consuming because of the red tape as well as delays caused by the COVID shut down. Nevertheless it could be done, after some time.

(1264) The Overlook by Michael Connelly

Books are like old friends. The first time I read The Overlook was when my neighbour loaned me about ten Michael Connelly books.

The second time I saw it and had access, it was in my host family's library. Since Dr Loo had like twenty five Readers Digest condensed books, I did not choose to reread it.

This is my third time meeting this book, I borrowed it from the Sabah library. Flipping through this story which I still remember brought to mind my good friend's ordeal.

While many people chose to marry others of different nationalities, my friend chose to marry someone from a northern country. When the marriage broke down, she not only lost her marital home and the joint account, but also the custody of her children whom she loved dearly. You see, she is a simple honest woman who happened to be naïve, he is a crafty lawyer. While she got on well with him, it never occurred to her to apply for citizenship. After her divorce, she lost her permanent residency because she could not find a good job there.

In one sense, I could say that he would be kinder to have killed her physically. In real life he turned his children against her, almost framed her for child abuse. To escape from a fate of living in prison, she run. After two years of living from hand to mouth teaching English and subsisting in a dingy rented room, she swallowed her pride and returned to her home town.

Now with the COVID pandemic raging, effectively she has no access to her grown children except through whatsap and email. Now I see the wisdom of my mother, "Do not marry a person from another country unless you are willing to live there until you die." she said prior to my boarding a Pan Am flight to New York city in 1981.

(1263) Dangerous legacy

While it is a crime killing individuals in one's way, I think sometimes it could be more than a crime to deter progress in one's family.

My father's cousin owned a shop lot in the centre business district in a mining town. The town centre has been dying for years. The cousin refused to sell in the boom years. Once a consortium offered $3,000,000 to buy the pre-war double-storey 30x105 square feet concrete structure. He, the owner, simply believed the maxim that one buys property to keep. Now that he has passed on, his 78 year old widow and his 50 year old daughter existed in the decaying building. That neighbourhood boasted of boarded up buildings, multi-storey business structure with underground car parks. It is also unsafe and full of unsavoury elements after dark. Both ladies sleep with one eye open as well as a base ball bat next to the bed.

Much as I do not understand why two women of average intelligence need to "defend" their property. It is the fact that they have been staying there for more than forty years. It may just be the great unknown that frightened them. It is seemingly safe to stick to what one is used to than to consider something new. Should one day those two become statistics of robbery turned into murders, I wonder if we may say that the proud former owner of that building left behind a legacy that led to the demise of his family?

(1262) Under Orders by Dick Francis

This is an excellent crime novel set in the racing world. Every Francis book I have read turned out to be gem.

The theme that struck me was the father and son angst between Lord Enstone and Peter. I was living on the periphery of something like that in Silver City about 18 years ago.

That year, I had an autistic high-functioning student. His parents were highly paid lawyers. The child's elder brother was like Peter, a much tormented young man. He was in pre-university then. I had little contact with this brother except when he came to pick my student up. Living in a friendly neighbourhood, my student struck up friendship with my neighbours' children.

My neighbour, a very perceptive and lonely woman, told me that alcohol was a problem in that household. When dad had a glass too many, poor elder son suffered emotionally from father's outbursts. However, my student was much loved and spoiled by his father. The mother was sensible and logical, she could neither influence her husband nor help the elder son.

Thank goodness the wealth in this family saved the elder son. He flew to UK to continue his tertiary studies. Should he graduate, then he had the choice of not returning to his hometown. He could craft his own niche instead of fighting an influential and rich father as Peter in the story did.

(1261) Black Wind by Cussler

In this book, the toxic brew was small pox and HIV organisms.

Now, we are facing the pandemic of COVID-19. In a way, the coronavirus acted as a game changer. What appeared to be a scourge for a limited time, may turn out to be a long-term curse bringing in what some call 'the new normal', permanently.

Some say it was the once-in-a-hundred-year pandemic. Others suspected human intervention. Fingers pointed to China, USA, and elsewhere. But whatever it is, the virus is here to stay. We humans have no option but to find a way to function and live with the spreading, or retreating of the virus in our midst.

I feel for those who laboured for the past thirty years, scrimping and saving all they could, for travelling in their golden years. It does look like the travel industry would not return to normal within the next two to five years.

God help those whose children are scattered all over the world in USA, Canada, New Zealand, Australia, UK and everywhere else!

Visiting one's children who has adopted those nations as their forever home, becomes enormously complicated, as countries have shut down their borders to all except their own citizens.

To walk out of my door, I need to wear a face mask. To walk into any public premises, involves compulsory recording of my full name, my phone number, current body temperature, date and time. Hand sanitizer becomes a constant fact of life. I know it is a small price to pay for the ability to walk out of my front door.

(1260)Pain

My son met up with his favourite cousin. After a nourishing meal that comforted their souls, they went shopping. They bought sausages, bread, tarts and last of all, six big tubes of Counterpain.

Now, that is a little out of the ordinary. A few questions later, it was revealed that my aunt by marriage used one tube (family size) every two weeks to dull her pain in her lower limbs beneath the knees.

While I have always known her unhappiness, I never realised the amount and the degree of pain she had to endure. Sure, she lost her dad before school age during the Japanese occupation of peninsular Malaysia. Instead of going to school until age 17, she gave up early at 12 to look after her four brothers and to run the home. Her widow mum used to hold two jobs to make ends meet.

My uncle could have been the best looking man in his neck of town, but he was not an easy husband. My grandmother definitely would not have been termed a good mother-in-law. But both my grandma and uncle had passed on. The former departed 44 years ago while the latter died 2 years ago. If it was those two were the source of her pain emotionally, then she should be better now. What she should do is to let go, forgive and enter a new phase of a better life.

Now I thought of the maid mentioned in blog 1258. After three husbands and five sons. She still work hard at age 62. Her husband divorced her and she lost two sons to him. The second husband was murdered by his brother-in-law over a few acres of rubber land. She managed to keep the two sons with this husband. The third husband disappeared while her youngest was a toddler. Yet she said God was good to her. A friend introduced her to her present employer 23 years ago and she never look back to those tearful days with three young children.

Comparing the lives of my aunt and this friend, I conclude that it is not what happened, it is how one reacts that determines one's life. Most Indonesians I met are Moslems, they have a certain way of attributing happenings to the will of God. It may sound fatalistic, yet the ready acceptance of bad fortune and the reaction of working hard to overcome it seemed to work for this friend.

(1259) Confucious saying

Yesterday I was talking about the roles of man and woman. Please don't get me wrong, I am educated and I did work outside the home many years. What I am talking about is taking over the role of one's husband in bringing home the bacon for a sustain period of time.

Many years ago as a young woman I used to think that Confucius is a die hard sexist. After all, he said that a woman without any money or money making talents is virtuous. In my modern mind, I thought it was alright either to have wealth or abilities that can make money. Surely that would be good assets for any person, man or woman.

Thirty years on, my view on such a matter changed. First, my best friend in pre-university became the CEO of a bank in one of the Middle-Eastern countries. Of course I was happy for her. Interestingly her husband went into semi-retirement to ferry their two children.

Next, my best friend after college became one of the premier lawyers in town. Her husband happened to be like 12 years older than her. After he was retrenched from a multinational firm, he also took things easy to become the three children's transporter. Shortly after that, they migrated to Canada.

The third case was my neighbour in Sabah, she worked long and hard in a Chinese regional company to put her three children through higher studies while her husband took it easy losing like two hundred thousand ringgit in an ill fated retail and wholesale business. There are men who are fantastic managers but hopeless businessmen.

Fourthly, a friend in Thailand rushed out to teach in both a government school and a private tutoring centre to make ends meet when her husband lost his high paying job. Her marriage crumbled and her ex managed to turn both her darlings against her. She lost custody of both off springs.

Last of all, a woman doctor wanted to get her child bearing years over in as short time as possible. She had two biological children within 18 months and adopted a third child whose age was in between the former two. There was a time period that she had three children under the age of 4. It was tough. Her husband had to give up his career to help the maid and his mother in child care. As a result they become a single income family. It does seem that while it is wonderful the wife helps supplement the family income, it actually is not a good idea that the wife takes over the task of bringing home the bacon. Surely not many men are good at nurturing, cooking, cleaning and all that a homemaker does to run the home.

(1258) His mysterious way

The first stint of my stay in Sabah lasted two and a half years. When landlord no 1 wanted to increase rental from $550 to $700, I gave notice.

One of my son's student's parents offered him a suite of two connected rooms on top of their restaurant. It took me a week to shrink from a double storey three room three baths to two small rooms.

My neighbour's maid agreed to take anything I decided could not fit into the said two rooms. Every morning for that week I waited to see my neighbours (a couple with grown children away) left for work before moving things to the maid. When she could, she came over to make multiple trips of moving small items in baskets and boxes.

Much later she told me her mistress had had no idea I gave her loads of things. I was very surprised! I know the master would not mind . But to maintain the peace of this neighbour's household I was discreet. There were shelves in the maid's room. She cleverly covered them with old discarded sheets fixed with clothes clips. When her mistress pointed to the sheets, the maid explained that climbing up chairs to wipe the shelves daily caused knee pain. After all, she was sixty two years old although she was fit and spry.

During that week, three times friends and relatives came in vehicles to move things to her son's house in the plantation. The plantation house is rather big with many rooms. When the son borrowed his father-in-law's double cab truck to transport things to the mother's house, they timed the arrival to after dark. The son would back the truck close to the main door of the wooden house before unloading. None of her neighbours even saw what she had acquired. Through the years, another son's father-in-law built recycled cupboards for her. Of course she paid him whatever she could afford out of her meagre pay. When she first started to work for the present couple twenty three years ago, her monthly pay was $230. At the time I was living next to her master she was earning $600. On such low pay she could not have savings. But she remembered how her master and mistress allowed her three boys to spend their holidays in their house. They also undertook to pay for the boys' education, the first boy actually completed his pre-university. As foreigners, education is not free. She was mindful of kind deeds and was not calculating about pay.

As far as she was concerned, it was God who ordained me staying a few doors away. In her wildest dream she never imagine she would be given such a range of household items. Most of them I have freighted them over in boxes paying Air Asia $20 for 25 kilograms. During the many trips, each member of my family would bring them as luggage. I am also touched that she cried with joy. My loss of a low price rental house resulted in a great blessing in her old age. We parted with a tight hug, knowing that nothing happened by chance. It is the mysterious hand of God.

(1257) A stubborn daughter

When I first met my present landlady, she was selling economy rice as lunch. My son and I often turned up lunch time hoping to see shell fish fried in eggs. After two months, she sent her daughter to learn English from my son. At that point of time the girl was twelve years old. As the mother confessed that she married a stubborn man, it was therefore not unusual that she begot a stubborn child. While exasperated with the difficult daughter, she said once that it (all the effort, money, time ...) could all be in vain that the girl may not make it through university. I begged to differ at that point of time, saying that things often were better than they seemed to a parent in distress.

Now is exactly five years later. Her girl just restarted school after three and a half months of enforced holidays due to COVID-19 shut down. Her class of 38 was split into three portions to comply with the rule of social distancing. Lower Forms were pushed to the afternoon to make room for smaller classes. Prior to the social lock down, the girl's last monthly test of Accounting was 38%. In November and December 2019 she opted to spend 8 hours a day co-writing a novel to win a prize instead of getting help in learning Accounting. (She did win tablets with four other friends.) SPM, GCE O-Level equivalent, was to be held in March 2021 thanks to COVID-19. She talks about going into Business Studies majoring in Finance. While one does not need to keep Accounts for that line, the understanding, the ability to grasp at the figures in general are essential. The girl could consistently score A or A+ in Mathematics, why is it that she could fail Accounts? One reason could be she refused to memorise terms and concepts.

The problem then is attitude and not aptitude. Plus lately she turned up one morning to wake my son and me at 5:30 am to ask for four colour photos to attach to her Moral Folio. A month ago she came to print pages of text for her Accounts Folio, at that time my son said why not print what she needed for the Moral Folio. Her reply was that it was quite a long while to the dead line. Interestingly she was sure she said am and not pm. Still, for 5:30 it would only be logical to say pm. It is customary not to inconvenience those who do one a favour.

Looking into the future, I wonder if her dad would blow a couple of hundred thousand ringgit over her pre-university in Finance and later fork out more to change her major once she found out that Accounts is part of business studies. Suppose if he refuses to waste money over a change in major, would she make it through the degree?

I am finally forced to agree with her parents that an education degree would make more sense to this girl. I think of my youngest child's good friend Sharon who holds an educational diploma but is doing very well in telemarketing.

(1256)Closing a business after Covid-19 shut down

The seafood restaurant behind where my son and I live closed down. It seemed a hasty decision to me. Due to Covid 19 all businesses were forced to close down for two weeks. The first places to be allowed to open were supermarkets. Then mini markets, grocery stores and wet markets. Restaurants one by one reopened, most are for take out only initially. By the time businesses were returning to normal, the seafood restaurant opened for take out, in less than a week, it decided to close for good.

My landlady said it was not hasty decision, rental was $1800. Workers, even at half pay, probably cost at least $3500. Then water bills and electricity bills run on and had to be paid. Even little or no usage meant minimum payment. She said the boss has been losing at least $15,000 for that three months of closure. The boss decided to give up the shop and go on to selling seafood wholesale operating from his home.

(1255)Ideas on eternity

During my uncle's last visit to Kuala Lumpur, he stayed in my elder brother's house. One morning, I had a chance alone with him and I grabbed it and told him of my dad's death bed scene. While he does not believe in demi-gods or ghosts, he as a trained doctor who could not deny the idea of an all knowing creator of the universe. His idea is that if there is such a God, God is simply too busy to care about one out of 7 billion souls on earth. After I related all the details and the subsequent dream, he promised me that if he has a chance to call out "Jesus, save me!" with his last breath, he would do so like my dad. I hope he did not promise just to get rid of me. Well, I have done all I could. At every opportunity I've shared what I could.

I am also grateful that the talk I gave in Johor allowed me to be accompanied by my cousin Bee Leng to visit fifth uncle in Desa Bayu. We drove on the new high way (open since Chinese New Year 2020) to go to the housing area before Desaru. Staying in my uncle's 5 room house for 2 nights gave me a chance to talk to him about my dad's last hour. He listened attentively as he saw my dad for about 30 minutes in Tung Shin Hospital before rushing off to catch a 6-hour bus ride to Johor about 4 days before the latter's passing. Like my uncle on my mum's side, fifth uncle on my dad's side did not comment on my dream. I find older Chinese are not flippant about dreams, there is a place for dream language in the Chinese culture. He too promised me that he would do the needful at the last moment because he wanted to meet my dad again. 

(1254) Working in China

At one point of my life I was contemplating a year of teaching English in Kwangchow or Chung San. I sounded out my uncle and he told me that it is best overseas Chinese do not return to work in China, unless it is with an International Corporation with contractual, enforceable letters of appointment running to 18 pages. As he himself was born overseas and did return to China in his youth, he must know what he is talking about. I have since thought of China with lots of reservation unless it is bringing money there to spend as tourists.

To tour China is hardly something of interest to me. Meeting kin is another matter. Now that main land Chinese could move around freely, every few years I see my elder cousin and his wife. My second brother visits China often, a habit he started when he studied and worked in Hong Kong. My eldest brother and wife visited Chung San  recently and invited my second cousin and wife to visit us in Kuala Lumpur.
Now that there are female infants in both cousins' families, it will be three years before they would venture to visit a place five hours by flight away. The Heng family seemed to multiply very slowly. From Generation 1 of 2, G2 of 4, G3 of 9 and G4 of 14. There is no G5 yet. Though two G4  have been married for 4 and 3 years respectively, both couples are childless. Both G4 carry other surnames and are descended from daughters. There are only six descendants from G4 with the surname of Heng.
My elder uncle had the Heng family records. According to my elder cousin who heard from her dad, the Hengs (Chinese character bear) came from Hubei. Before the dynasty ended, the ancestor used to work in Peking as a government scholarly servant. Now that elder uncle had passed on, no one knows where the document is. It could have been thrown away after the flood at the back of his shop lot. A business man valued profit, why did he care about family history? 

(1253)Medical profession, all in the family

There is a family in Silver City  of seven members, all seven are medical doctors. Father is a gynaecologist while mother is a paediatrician. All five children are doctors of one kind or another.
Keziah has a classmate whose parents are both medical doctors too. Over the years the first daughter became a haematologist. The second son became a physician who sings in his leisure time. The third son wanted to become a film director when he was 16. Both father and mother objected. They must have gone on their knees to pray for him to change his mind. Over a two year period his interest moved onto economy and he chose to go to a country other than where his siblings went for further studies.

Recently I wonder if his outrageous first choice was a means to deflect away medicine? His eldest sister did want to be a doctor. But his elder brother did not want to be a doctor initially. Yet his suggestion of music as a major was not practical. His father countered with an offer of spending the million prepared into purchasing a shop lot and equipping it into a music instrument shop for him to run. He thought about it and retreated to medicine.

While the third one was growing up, he must have been looking at the first one undergoing a most demanding course. Then she saw how the second one reluctantly persevered through two degrees to qualify. I actually think being a very smart person, he thought of a way to counter the father's one-track mind. 

(1252) The Chinese mania of forcing children to become medical doctors

When Keziah was a 2 year old, there is a girl in church who used to carry her all around the church grounds on Sunday. Our church in Silver City was made up of five buildings spread over three acres or more. We have a main sanctuary, a kindergarten, chapel for the secondary school next door, a gymnasium and a long educational block.

Kelly is a bright , personable, sensitive and caring tween then. It is hard to remember how old she was when Keziah first appeared in church way back in 1994.But I remembered being quite worried whether she could handle Keziah who was rather plump then. A Sunday school teacher, I think it was Amy, reassured me that Kelly is strong, responsible and had her head screw on right. So from initially  running after Kelly, I merely told her to return the toddler to me, not to pass her to any one else. That Kelly was good about obeying. She did not disappoint me, not even once.

Over the years I saw her struggle. Given a free choice, she would have made an excellent early educational specialist, whether in running a kindergarten or becoming a specialist like educational psychologist working with special children... She would be such a potential blessing to a whole generation  of 0-5 children either in KL or Silver City.

The last I heard, she became something link with children, whether paediatrician or child psychologist, I could not recall. Maybe you would say that is fitting, right inside her area of interest too. But sad to say, she was working in a Singapore hospital the last time my daughter located her on face book. Great loss to our nation!

(1251)Alcoholic genes

I remember my first host family whom I spent the first Christmas holidays and part of the first summer with. Papa Ellison was adopted. There was no details of his forebear's medical background. The second generation were five girls, all of them happily married. My friend from college is the elder daughter with one brother from the youngest girl. Like her grandma and mum, she married young. After her marriage to her high school sweetheart, she transferred to a state university.

Years later I visited her and her husband in Raleigh. She has adopted a Korean boy, a biracial boy and then a Korean girl. Catching up with the post college years, she related how her brother drank to excess and dropped out of college. He drifted from one job to the next, finally settled in selling cars and made Florida his home. By that time it was widely known that there was a set of genes that are prone to alcoholism. People could go for generations without suffering from alcoholism provided they abstain. Nobody else in the entire clan drink to excess. Strictly speaking, most of them don't drink, period. Maybe it is upbringing, perhaps you call it family culture or it is Christian abstinence. All six families are church going right up to that time, somewhat like what most people call the American dream.

In my own family, I have a cousin on my mother side who drinks. We heard about his Saturday late night vomiting. Yet it was totally incongruent with the fact that he is an official quite high up in the district hospital. His first marriage failed.The first wife did not remarry after more than 10 years. His second wife just delivered a baby girl a few months back after about four years of marriage.
I guess comparing my cousin to Steven there is a difference. My cousin could function and keep to his profession. Steven crashed a few times before he joined the AA and stayed sober, counting the days, months and hopefully years. As a clan, most of us hardly drink. every one of my maternal grandma's four biological children and one adopted girl did not drink. From my eldest aunt, her elder girl may take half a glass of wine. Her younger brother may take a can of beer. Both my second uncle's children are strict Christian non-drinkers. None of my mum's three children take to drinking. It is only from small uncle that his younger son picked up the drinking habit as a college student. The family history closely mirrored the Ellisons. After all, my grandma was adopted, she hardly knew her siblings, let alone relatives or family medical history. 

(1250)Freshman Fall

A good friend in college gave me an autumn picture her brother took of the woods while driving her to college. He aptly named it Freshman Fall. I took the picture back from North America and deposited it with an artistic friend who treasured it and displayed it in her dining area which is predominantly brown in colour. A touch of gold in foliage added aesthetics to her nook.

During my freshman first semester, I had a tough time with my roommate. She was a bright spark, who at age 16 won a merit scholarship to my college. Although I was a mature student at 21, my short stature and baby face made me look younger than her. Despite her combative attitude, I tolerated it with a shrug. At the end of the semester, the aggressor went to complain about my daylight absences from a shared room. She was distraught that I brought the wind, the chill and the snow into our shared warm room late at night. The Housing Director called me and heard my side of the story. Well! I said my dear roommate was spoiled and arrogant. But as an adult five years her senior, I think she has great potential if she could stick to our college and hack it socially. The Housing Director laughed and asked if I want another roommate. I said no thank you. It was arranged that I was given a single right at the end of another wing. Right before leaving her office, I asked if it was a joke that I was assigned with this particular girl. Her eyes twinkled and said I was yet another outstanding girl from Malaysia who did well academically and socially in spite of any adverse circumstances. I didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. Sharing the interview with my pals at the international table, I had a good chuckle with them. In a way it could be a high compliment to my compatriots. A Science Professor who was there counted on his fingers, there were no less than four Malaysian girls who won high honours (Phi Beta Kappa or Sigma Xi) at graduation during the past fifteen years or so. The college generally take in one Malaysian student every two or three years.

A year later, I heard that my ex-roommate was sent to Coventry for attempting to break up friendship of her close associates. She could not take the silent treatment and transferred to a community college near her home town. It was such a waste! Her biological father abandoned her and her mum. A full scholarship obtained was such a blessing to a deserving student with limited financial means. It was a pity that she did not lie low and persevered through the four years of college. All she needed to do was to apologise and eat humble pie to stay on. In spite of everything she did to me, I bore her no malice. Why should any American girl be nice to me just because I was a foreign student? Though some are, few and far in between. I find the children of diplomats, corporate leaders posted overseas, and military offspring are the most friendly to non-Americans in general.

(1249)Meant not to be

There is a saying, marriages are made in heaven.

I have a childhood friend who fell in love with her business partner. They bought a condo to live in and built the business. Thus they were happy for many years. When he wanted to get married, she was too involved in her projects. The date was postponed. When she asked about it, it was a bad recession. Money was scarce. It is traditional to have a lavish reception, especially for an only son who would be the groom.

Then she had a life threatening condition that led to a hysterectomy. She barely escaped with her life. Since the partner's parents expected grandchildren, the entire line depends on her partner. My friend parted from the love of her life. She took the condo while he carried on with the business. She went to Australia for further studies.

Recalling this reminded me of another love story. Another friend of mine took off and visited US with the help of a few close friends. One gave her frequent flyer miles. Another gave her a cheque. Yet others gave her practical things like winter garments. She met her internet friend finally and stayed in his vicinity for almost a year. She came back a changed person. Travelling and staying abroad does broaden one's horizon. It was quite a few weeks upon her return that I heard the sad story. While she was awaiting his marriage proposal, he was undecided. After she purchased her return ticket, he cried and begged her to marry him. It was too late.
She got over him quite easily, but it took him years before he gave up. There are two points that I can't quite figure out:
1. Why wasn't it possible for her to delay the flight? After all, visa was not up and most airlines allowed a change of date 48 hours before flight time.
2. If the relationship meant that much to him, why couldn't he fly over and pursue her when his financial circumstances improved?
Of course in affairs of the heart, there are no easy answers.

(1248) Message from departed pet

In the process of arranging the chapters of my second book, I played with the order until I could reasonably end with the last sentence. Both my editors suggested better or more logical arrangement. However, I refused because my mind was made up. Writing cat stories is one thing, being cast as a cat lover or owner is quite another. Two years later, looking back now, what does it matter? Should I finish my collection of chicken tales someday, would it matter if I am known as a chicken lover?

My husband and I turned up to show Prince's owner the cat book. She was the one who ignited my desire to publish a book containing Prince's stories. She asked a most innocuous question, "On what page is the first Prince story?" I glanced at the table of content and answered evenly,"55." She burst out in tears and explained that 5 was Prince's favourite number. It has been almost a year since the beloved cat passed on to the happy hunting ground. Whenever she looked at the tree at the corner of her garden, she still find tears in her eyes. It was, in her words, like "Prince came back in the book to tell me it is quite OK."

Immediately I thought of other writer's series of piled up co-incidences in their process of writing. At the next opportunity, I will borrow from my niece and read again Tan's "The Opposite of Fate".

(1247)temporary work while waiting for result

There are sixth formers in my church in Sabah. STPM (formerly HSC, equivalent to GCE A-level) results come out in a much shorter time than 40 years previously.

While I waited for my HSC result, I worked as a temporary teacher in a Chinese Primary School in KL for a term. Similarly, my youngest worked at a law firm doing conveyance clerical work for 4 months. From that experience, she decided law is the last profession she wanted in town.
Joanna, who is a happy-go-lucky person in the Sabah church, could not find a job and seemed to cheerfully doodle at home. Yvonne is a little more assertive, she grabbed a tutoring job and has been almost tearing out her hair in struggling to teach since. In teaching, I started the ball rolling a few years before Form 6. In Form One I had a student who came to my house three times a week for English tutoring for a few months. His English did not improve much but his mum was quite pleased to see him lose a few pounds during those months. For whatever homework he did not do, he cheerfully skipped rope as punishment. The dad stopped sending him when he sensed the boy was not interested in improving his English. After LCE (now called PT3) I taught a few children in the neighbourhood for a few months. That was a learning experience for me. As the parents and the housekeeper were supportive, the children did improve  much in English and Malay during that period.

Therefore I could see why Yvonne has such difficulties. Firstly most parents in Sabah just forked out money and left things pretty much to the tutor. Next thing to note is that the children could actually do substantial work during the school holidays if the parents and the nannies are supportive. Let's say the children come for one hour of tutoring three times per week, and they consistently do one hour of home exercise every week day, that would be 8 hours of work done per week. Assuming 6 weeks of work, it adds up to 48 hours of work done. We can see that judicially planned exercises done conscientiously work wonders with some explanation during lesson time.

By the time I was working as a temporary teacher, I realised that 9 years old are not the right age group for me. After strict streaming, 3E as a class is difficult to teach. I used to mark sentence making twice a week and journal writing weekly. The first was tough enough, it is the second that killed a novice teacher. It is funny that I did spend most of my adult life teaching remedial English to either college age classes or one-to-one tutoring to young children. At least it is much easier than attempting to teach a class of 48 children whom each required special attention.