Why do we tolerate hygienically dirty food eateries?
Saturday, September 30, 2006
Simply because the food is tastier, cheaper and as long as the rodents are not sitting on the chairs and feasting with us, let’s consider that tolerable. (Ahh, I remember back in primary school, the canteen is the burung gagak’s favourite haunt. Well, I think I remember seeing them in my Sekolah Menengah and oh my goodness I think in college too!)
Where can you get a steaming bowl of pork noodles for RM4 but at the kopitiam with greasy floors? Never mind that the aunty filled a plastic container with tap water and mix it into the pork noodles soup. Or where can you enjoy a RM1 roti with your favourite RM1 milo kau but at that mamak restaurant where it is a norm for rats the size of a kitten running about at the side alleys. You don’t complain much really because the restaurant is raised three steps above the side alley and rats can’t fly. Oh yes, did I mention that the alley cats are too contented and lazy to even prey on the rats? They co-exist in harmony. Of course you’ll need to watch out for the occasional flying cockroach. Then it is a sign that you should really pay and leave.
This is typical Malaysian dining. You either ‘close one eye’ or whip up your own dishes in the comforts of your own home. Middle class dining is exclusively for the middle class or the wealthy or for those who live life trying to impress their girlfriend(s). Basically, eating at Chilli’s thrice a week is impractical. In fact, I think the middle class kopitiams are slightly overpriced as well but I guess it’s because these eateries are air-conditioned and cleaner, I hope. (Not too long ago I patronised a mid-class kopitiam with greasy floors and tables).
And food courts suck. So, we’re back to square one. Sigh, what to do? Close one eye lor. No complains of diarrhoea so far anyway. Tourists, be forewarned though.
Where can you get a steaming bowl of pork noodles for RM4 but at the kopitiam with greasy floors? Never mind that the aunty filled a plastic container with tap water and mix it into the pork noodles soup. Or where can you enjoy a RM1 roti with your favourite RM1 milo kau but at that mamak restaurant where it is a norm for rats the size of a kitten running about at the side alleys. You don’t complain much really because the restaurant is raised three steps above the side alley and rats can’t fly. Oh yes, did I mention that the alley cats are too contented and lazy to even prey on the rats? They co-exist in harmony. Of course you’ll need to watch out for the occasional flying cockroach. Then it is a sign that you should really pay and leave.
This is typical Malaysian dining. You either ‘close one eye’ or whip up your own dishes in the comforts of your own home. Middle class dining is exclusively for the middle class or the wealthy or for those who live life trying to impress their girlfriend(s). Basically, eating at Chilli’s thrice a week is impractical. In fact, I think the middle class kopitiams are slightly overpriced as well but I guess it’s because these eateries are air-conditioned and cleaner, I hope. (Not too long ago I patronised a mid-class kopitiam with greasy floors and tables).
And food courts suck. So, we’re back to square one. Sigh, what to do? Close one eye lor. No complains of diarrhoea so far anyway. Tourists, be forewarned though.
6:48 AM
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hmm?
Why I hated school
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
My primary school days were a traumatic experience. Freddy Krueger would be ashamed to know that his nightmarish antics on Elm Street were nothing compared to mine. I happen to attend a certain Sekolah Rendah at Jalan Selangor adjacent to SRK Assunta. In case you think I’m making all this up just because I was spoilt then, please allow me to reassure you that children don’t lie unless their toys are in danger of being taken away from them. And I also happen to hold a grudge against certain teachers who I thought belonged more to the mental institution than that school.
We were a good bunch of students but vulnerable. Perhaps those sadistic teachers saw fit to be cruel to prepare us to face our violence-loving world. Well thank you, because not only did we grew up sane and peace-loving you have failed miserably as a teacher propagating violence.
May I relate a few bone chilling experiences of this particular teacher of mine, and let’s call her Cik J. Her weapons include a blackboard duster (preferably filled with white chalk), metal pencil cases, the 100cm wooden ruler, a rotan. When these weapons are unavailable, no fear she still has her bare hands. She will wring your ears, pinch your tummy or arms, slap your face, pull your hair, scream ‘bodoh’ at you and any other vicious actions she can think of. All in the name of educating her students. Tell me, how does repetitious hitting enhance one’s intelligence up a notch?
I remember all of us trembling with fear every morning because Cik J also happened to be our class teacher, for two whole damn years! We had a class fund where every student will contribute some money to buy certain school supplies, to buy our teachers a gift for Hari Guru or for our end of the year tea party. Bad luck if you happen to be poor and cannot make a weekly contribution because she would pinch you till you bruised while unleashing a barrage of verbal abuse. If you think Cik J was being sadistic because she was ugly, you’re wrong. In fact, she’s a very pretty lady, dressed nicely in baju kurung/kebaya with matching 3-inch heels.
I told myself if she ever laid a finger of violence on me, she will be a goner. And she did just that one fine day. We had a mock Mathematics exam to prepare us for our UPSR exams that year. I scored a 48 out of 50. I was made to stand up and instead of receiving a pat on the back and a compliment; I received a hard thwack on my bony back with a huge thick book. I nearly peed in my panties. So just imagine what the other students received for scoring below that. Some were given the ‘powder’ treatment with the blackboard duster, some were whacked with the wooden ruler till it broke into two, some received bruised arms and I remember some classmates of mine crying piteously ‘Cikgu, sakit, jangan, jangan’. If this happened once in a blue moon, fine I can accept that. But no, we were tormented five days a week.
I squealed to my mom when I reached home that day. But I pleaded with her not to file a complain to my headmistress less we aggravate Cik J further. Mom being the protective guardian made sure the headmistress was aware of what happened. Two days later, a gempur meeting was called for by the headmistress. Cik J came back to class and demanded to know whose parent dared to humiliate her during the meeting. You’d think she will change for the better. As they say, old habits die hard. In fact, she remained a tyrant while being pregnant much later on.
During the last day of my primary school, most students went to the teacher’s room to ask for forgiveness from the teachers. I sat glued to my seat, happy to finally able to escape this madhouse. I didn’t have an ounce of forgiveness for these so called mentors and I wasn’t about to fake that.
Back then I wished I was brave enough to collect incriminating evidence against this school. Imagine what a huge scandal this might hit our national headlines. Few years after I left primary school, some parent did make sure the country knew about our failing education system. An abusive teacher from some school made it to the front news. I could only say thank God! And not long after that, more parents and students came forward with their tales of woe. The Education Ministry issued a warning statement to teachers to refrain from physical violence towards their students.
Dear teachers, I am not saying that you should spare the rotan and spoil the child. Cane us if we set your car on fire. But cane us not when we cannot answer your subject questions because we are not little Einsteins. Please do not bring your domestic unhappiness or your personal failings to school. We are least interested. I grew up fearing authority, fearing school, fearing society. Thank you for the scarred memories otherwise there would be no tale for me to tell today.
We were a good bunch of students but vulnerable. Perhaps those sadistic teachers saw fit to be cruel to prepare us to face our violence-loving world. Well thank you, because not only did we grew up sane and peace-loving you have failed miserably as a teacher propagating violence.
May I relate a few bone chilling experiences of this particular teacher of mine, and let’s call her Cik J. Her weapons include a blackboard duster (preferably filled with white chalk), metal pencil cases, the 100cm wooden ruler, a rotan. When these weapons are unavailable, no fear she still has her bare hands. She will wring your ears, pinch your tummy or arms, slap your face, pull your hair, scream ‘bodoh’ at you and any other vicious actions she can think of. All in the name of educating her students. Tell me, how does repetitious hitting enhance one’s intelligence up a notch?
I remember all of us trembling with fear every morning because Cik J also happened to be our class teacher, for two whole damn years! We had a class fund where every student will contribute some money to buy certain school supplies, to buy our teachers a gift for Hari Guru or for our end of the year tea party. Bad luck if you happen to be poor and cannot make a weekly contribution because she would pinch you till you bruised while unleashing a barrage of verbal abuse. If you think Cik J was being sadistic because she was ugly, you’re wrong. In fact, she’s a very pretty lady, dressed nicely in baju kurung/kebaya with matching 3-inch heels.
I told myself if she ever laid a finger of violence on me, she will be a goner. And she did just that one fine day. We had a mock Mathematics exam to prepare us for our UPSR exams that year. I scored a 48 out of 50. I was made to stand up and instead of receiving a pat on the back and a compliment; I received a hard thwack on my bony back with a huge thick book. I nearly peed in my panties. So just imagine what the other students received for scoring below that. Some were given the ‘powder’ treatment with the blackboard duster, some were whacked with the wooden ruler till it broke into two, some received bruised arms and I remember some classmates of mine crying piteously ‘Cikgu, sakit, jangan, jangan’. If this happened once in a blue moon, fine I can accept that. But no, we were tormented five days a week.
I squealed to my mom when I reached home that day. But I pleaded with her not to file a complain to my headmistress less we aggravate Cik J further. Mom being the protective guardian made sure the headmistress was aware of what happened. Two days later, a gempur meeting was called for by the headmistress. Cik J came back to class and demanded to know whose parent dared to humiliate her during the meeting. You’d think she will change for the better. As they say, old habits die hard. In fact, she remained a tyrant while being pregnant much later on.
During the last day of my primary school, most students went to the teacher’s room to ask for forgiveness from the teachers. I sat glued to my seat, happy to finally able to escape this madhouse. I didn’t have an ounce of forgiveness for these so called mentors and I wasn’t about to fake that.
Back then I wished I was brave enough to collect incriminating evidence against this school. Imagine what a huge scandal this might hit our national headlines. Few years after I left primary school, some parent did make sure the country knew about our failing education system. An abusive teacher from some school made it to the front news. I could only say thank God! And not long after that, more parents and students came forward with their tales of woe. The Education Ministry issued a warning statement to teachers to refrain from physical violence towards their students.
Dear teachers, I am not saying that you should spare the rotan and spoil the child. Cane us if we set your car on fire. But cane us not when we cannot answer your subject questions because we are not little Einsteins. Please do not bring your domestic unhappiness or your personal failings to school. We are least interested. I grew up fearing authority, fearing school, fearing society. Thank you for the scarred memories otherwise there would be no tale for me to tell today.
11:40 AM
0 comments
hmm?
Dear God,
Monday, September 25, 2006
Do you remember when I was 19, I submitted a list of prerequisites of preferred traits I would like to see in my Mr. Right? The list was quite a lengthy one and since I thought I might be a little too demanding, I crossed out most of the items which I thought I can do without. Even so, I wasn’t quite sure if it was my right to negotiate with you in the first place. But then again, you did mention this, Ask and ye shall be given. And so what the heck I must as well try.
Here was what I listed back then.
1. Non-smoker, non-swearer and non-drinker
I couldn’t envision myself kissing a foul mouthed guy who reeks of stale cigarette breath while boozing like there’s no tomorrow. I might not be the gorgeous gal around but at least I have my pride.
2. Speaks a common language
I blame it on my parents for emphasizing the importance of English when I was young. I blame Enid Blyton too. As such, any love declarations made in languages besides English won’t impress me too much. Okay, I’m not asking that he speaks Queens English because I don’t but at least for someone who is not linguistically challenged.
3. Loves me a lot, period.
4. Loves you
The wise says that for horizontal relationships (human-to-human) to work out, both parties should first establish a solid vertical relationship with you. As God loves us can we only learn to love others.
5. Has good values
Please but I do not want an egoistic jerk whose first item on his Ms Right list is ‘must have a great body so that I can be an even better egoistic jerk’. I want a man who is caring, loving, respectful, understanding, undemanding, jovial, even tempered, loyal, etc.
6. Possess a great sense of humour
Okay, so everyone is capable of laughing at inane jokes but I want someone who has a higher sense of humour appreciation. I can’t think of an example now but I hope you get what I mean.
7. Intellectual
I don’t want a rocket scientist (although that might be cool!) but someone who can converse maturely with common sense and yes, educated. I would like to have children who can at least do basic arithmetic.
8. Appropriate age bracket
Please please please I don’t want a man who is old enough to be my uncle or father. I already have those. Besides, I think it would be quite gross kissing a wrinkled hazel nut while equivalent thoughts of incest swim around in my head.
9. Possess great chemistry
I’m not really sure what that means but gals all over the world seem to be repeating that mantra all the time. But I guess it means being comfortable talking, sharing with each other without feeling angry, irritated, repulsed with each other.
10. Financially sound
Okay, I have kept this as my last requirement because I don’t want to sound greedier than I am. Money is important to at least have a decent life. And he must earn money honestly. Preferably, I would like to work not because I have to but because I want to.
And so I’m not asking for flowers, expensive dinners, diamond rings or even a knight in shining armour. I just want a decent family man that you approve, that I love and someone who is not afraid to say, I love you (and mean it) in return. I want him to hold my hand in his through ups and downs in our lives till we grow old and grey.
And for all the traits that I have listed above, I promise to have them in myself as well. After all it is ridiculous to ask for something that you cannot give back in return in certain ways.
***
Six years on, I just want to say that God is indeed a God of great and small things. Maybe it’s not too late to ask for …. Well, never mind, I’m sure he already knows what I want.
Here was what I listed back then.
1. Non-smoker, non-swearer and non-drinker
I couldn’t envision myself kissing a foul mouthed guy who reeks of stale cigarette breath while boozing like there’s no tomorrow. I might not be the gorgeous gal around but at least I have my pride.
2. Speaks a common language
I blame it on my parents for emphasizing the importance of English when I was young. I blame Enid Blyton too. As such, any love declarations made in languages besides English won’t impress me too much. Okay, I’m not asking that he speaks Queens English because I don’t but at least for someone who is not linguistically challenged.
3. Loves me a lot, period.
4. Loves you
The wise says that for horizontal relationships (human-to-human) to work out, both parties should first establish a solid vertical relationship with you. As God loves us can we only learn to love others.
5. Has good values
Please but I do not want an egoistic jerk whose first item on his Ms Right list is ‘must have a great body so that I can be an even better egoistic jerk’. I want a man who is caring, loving, respectful, understanding, undemanding, jovial, even tempered, loyal, etc.
6. Possess a great sense of humour
Okay, so everyone is capable of laughing at inane jokes but I want someone who has a higher sense of humour appreciation. I can’t think of an example now but I hope you get what I mean.
7. Intellectual
I don’t want a rocket scientist (although that might be cool!) but someone who can converse maturely with common sense and yes, educated. I would like to have children who can at least do basic arithmetic.
8. Appropriate age bracket
Please please please I don’t want a man who is old enough to be my uncle or father. I already have those. Besides, I think it would be quite gross kissing a wrinkled hazel nut while equivalent thoughts of incest swim around in my head.
9. Possess great chemistry
I’m not really sure what that means but gals all over the world seem to be repeating that mantra all the time. But I guess it means being comfortable talking, sharing with each other without feeling angry, irritated, repulsed with each other.
10. Financially sound
Okay, I have kept this as my last requirement because I don’t want to sound greedier than I am. Money is important to at least have a decent life. And he must earn money honestly. Preferably, I would like to work not because I have to but because I want to.
And so I’m not asking for flowers, expensive dinners, diamond rings or even a knight in shining armour. I just want a decent family man that you approve, that I love and someone who is not afraid to say, I love you (and mean it) in return. I want him to hold my hand in his through ups and downs in our lives till we grow old and grey.
And for all the traits that I have listed above, I promise to have them in myself as well. After all it is ridiculous to ask for something that you cannot give back in return in certain ways.
***
Six years on, I just want to say that God is indeed a God of great and small things. Maybe it’s not too late to ask for …. Well, never mind, I’m sure he already knows what I want.
6:11 PM
3 comments
hmm?
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Please do not mock my lack of ambition but accept me for the simple life I have in mind - quotes a particular urbanised orang-utan.
7:19 PM
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Saturday, September 16, 2006
Pinky and err yellowy
8:07 PM
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I'm your number one fan!
Friday, September 15, 2006
(The Star Section 2 15 Sept 06) L to R: Meng - guitarist, Abby - keyboardist and backup vocals, Warren - frontman, lead singer and guitarist, Boon - bassist (and my darling) and Dave - on drums
Ferns' debut album, On Botany is slated for release before the end of this year in Malaysia and Singapore. Watch out for their album and be mesmerised by Warren's unique vocals and catchy pop folk music influences. Check out Ferns' Myspace site for more details!
4:19 PM
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Thursday, September 14, 2006
bunny loolian caught a fly
handsome in a suit and tie
the fly was annoyed for he was late
for his dinner and sparkly wine date
bunny loolian was quite curious
to hear him curse, oh so anxious
she open her paw just a weeny bit
and thwack his head with a steady hit!
bunny loolian almost regretted
for the blow turned him muted
on her paw, a mass of innards
the colour of burnt gizzards.
handsome in a suit and tie
the fly was annoyed for he was late
for his dinner and sparkly wine date
bunny loolian was quite curious
to hear him curse, oh so anxious
she open her paw just a weeny bit
and thwack his head with a steady hit!
bunny loolian almost regretted
for the blow turned him muted
on her paw, a mass of innards
the colour of burnt gizzards.
9:56 AM
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hmm?
September 13
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
September 13 is significant in two ways. One is Roald Dahl's birthday another is ... secret heehee
9:13 PM
2 comments
hmm?
Friday, September 08, 2006
Simple Simon caught a cold
he went to see the doc
but his nose was green as mold
the doc laughed with great mock
so
Simple Simon sought a Chinese
herb to cure his nose
he found a root but with a sneeze
it splattered on his toes
oh well
Simple Simon went on home
resigned himself to bed
tucked in warmly with a tome
the cold went to his head
next morning
Simple Simon made a jug
of honey lemon juice
he drank it up with one big glug
his nose was cured from sluice!
he went to see the doc
but his nose was green as mold
the doc laughed with great mock
so
Simple Simon sought a Chinese
herb to cure his nose
he found a root but with a sneeze
it splattered on his toes
oh well
Simple Simon went on home
resigned himself to bed
tucked in warmly with a tome
the cold went to his head
next morning
Simple Simon made a jug
of honey lemon juice
he drank it up with one big glug
his nose was cured from sluice!
2:58 PM
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hmm?
se j300i
Saturday, September 02, 2006
perky and petite
peachy and pink
and mostly because
it's pink.
6:35 PM
1 comments
hmm?
