A rose by any other name

This morning, Capt. Yusof Ahmad posted an interesting story in his blog, The Ancient Mariner, about the Vietnamese refugee ship Hai Hong that arrived in Malaysia in 1978. I was in secondary school back then and remember this incident vaguely. I commented in the Captain's blog that his post reminded me of an old school friend because she had the nickname Hai Hong.

But before I reveal who actually Hai Hong was, I would just like to recap a reply that I made some time back to Jabishah, a regular commenter in this blog. Jabishah remarked that she feels uncomfortable calling me Oldstock. I replied that she need not worry about calling me by that name because it was coined by friends a long time ago when I was at boarding school in MRSM Kuantan.

For those of you who have spent time in boarding school, I'm sure you have come across friends who have weird, interesting and amusing nicknames. Perhaps, like me, you have one yourself. To an outsider, some of these nicknames may appear demeaning but if you do not take offence or feel slighted, then such names are just part of a growing-up phase. No doubt, some people get stuck with their nicknames right up till adulthood.

There were so many interesting nicknames when I was in school, and this was not limited to boys only. Even the girls have nicknames that are known throughout the school. The reason most nicknames are easily understood is that they usually refer to physical appearance. Rosli Mamak, for instance, has a dark complexion. Norazharuddin Jepun could pass off as a Japanese without much problem. Bakar Buta is not really blind but he has eyes that are open as very thin slits. Raihan Buncit was slightly rounded around the waistline.

There were, however, some guys whose nicknames really defy explanation. I have friends who are called Nyamuk, Konteng, Bull, Monggol, Batak and Mat Bunian. I had female schoolmates who were called Cone and Sergeant. There was this story about one of the Biology teachers who overheard the boys calling a friend by the name of Badang, a character in Malay folklore that gained superhuman strength after eating the vomit of a jinn. The teacher asked who the owner of this nickname was, and when Badang identified himself, she let out a gasp in disbelief. You see, Badang was actually a thin and spindly guy... not the tough chap that she first assumed. I was told the whole class had a good laugh and Badang did not feel the least offended.

Back then, one of the activities that the Freshie Week Committee conducted was a `know your seniors' game. The task involved all Form 1 newcomers to identify some seniors based on a list that had two columns of forty or so nicknames, one each for male and female. It's not enough for the freshies just to write the seniors real name, they had to get their signatures as well. Some seniors purposely made it difficult by not owning up or simply glaring back at the juniors when asked. Can you imagine a timid 13-year old boy braving himself to approach a senior student to ask, `Abang ni nama Buncit ye?'. Buncit could have glared back and the freshie would probably shed tears... luckily for them, Buncit is a kind-hearted soul. Once the owner of a nickname is identified, you could see a crowd of the freshies gathering around the senior asking for his or her signature, not unlike a superstar signing autographs for his/her fans.

And now back to the story of a former classmate who was called Hai Hong. I really don't know how she got that name and neither had I the opportunity to ask. I attach below, an extract of the note she wrote in my autograph book, the evening after we had sat for our Geography paper during the MCE exams of 1979. That was almost 30 years ago...

To the lovely Norhayati Shaharuddin from Gopeng Perak, may you and your family be in the best of health, wherever you are. Thanks, Hai Hong, for being a friend.

Update 01 Dec 2021 :

a) The links to the blogs belonging to Capt Yusof Ahmad and Jabishah have been removed. These two blogs still exist but are not updated. Capt Yusof has departed quite some years ago.

b) I have since reconnected with all my friends whose nicknames are mentioned here, with the exception of Rosli Mamak (whom I believe lives in Alor Setar) and Badang (who passed away in May 2007).

c) My friend Norhayati, who is subject of this post, has told me how she got the Hai Hong nickname.

Do we get to pick our Prime Minister?

Regular readers of this blog would have noticed by now that I very, very seldom post about socio-political issues. But the announcement by Abdullah Ahmad Badawi yesterday that he would not be defending his President's post in UMNO prompted me to share my views about the selection of the no.1 leader of our country.

Earlier in the week, I had commented in Nuraina A. Samad's blog under the post `UMNO's Amazing Race', that I hoped to see AAB actually defend his post and that he gets the requisite nominations to do so. Now that this is no longer happening, we are informed that Najib Tun Razak would be handed the PM's post come March next year. But this would be possible only if Najib wins the UMNO presidency...

And that brings us to the question that is the title of my post for today. Who actually decides who gets to become the Prime Minister of our country? Unlike the citizens of the USA who can choose who they want as their President (Obama or McCain), the choice of PM of Malaysia is not that direct.

As it stands now, a politician in Malaysia can get to become the Prime Minister if he is (a) a Member of Parliament, and (b) if he is the leader of the dominant party in the ruling coalition i.e. UMNO. Well, the constitutional experts among you will say that this is not correct because the PM is appointed by the Yang Dipertuan Agong who shall select a member of the house who he thinks commands the confidence of the majority of the members. Yeah, right... but as long as UMNO MPs are the majority in Parliament, tradition dictates that the PM post will always belong to the President of UMNO. I very much doubt that Tuanku Mizan would rule otherwise, despite whatever aspiration Anwar Ibrahim might have in wooing some ruling MPs to cross over.

The reality is that the choice of our PM will be decided by a handful of delegates in the next UMNO general assembly. Najib has already declared that he is offering himself as a candidate for the top post. Tengku Razaleigh Hamzah had long ago announced that he will contest. As for Muhyiddin Yassin, we all wait to see if he's going for the no.1 spot or settle for no.2 (and with that, be seen as Najib's running mate).

To some of us, this is not the ideal situation... but like it or not, unless you are a member of UMNO, you have no say. If you do have friends or family who are members of UMNO, perhaps the best that you can do is to let them know who you think should be elected as president from amongst the aspiring candidates. But do that only if you feel strongly about it... because most UMNO members that I know from among my friends and relatives have already made up their minds.

Update 01 Dec 2021 : The link to Nuraina's blog has been removed due to security issues.

Some people really can't wait

If you were on the road during the last few days or so during the Aidilfitri holidays, it is most likely that you were caught in a traffic jam somehow, somewhere.

On the second day of hari raya, we traveled from Johor Bahru to Mersing, on the old Federal Route 3. We got stuck in a horrendous jam near Taman Saujana up to the junction of Kulai road, before Kota Tinggi town. It took us 45 minutes to move a distance of about 3.5 km. The design of the road junction at Taman Saujana also didn't help because two lanes from the secondary road merged with the single lane on the trunk road. Add to this, many drivers also used the road shoulder as an additional lane.... so you have four lanes of traffic squeezing into one. Classic bottleneck.

I simply can't understand why people overtake on the left using the road shoulder. Why can't these people have the patience to wait in line like the rest of us? There are even some drivers who `curi jalan' on the road shoulder of the other side and drive contra to the flow! Crazy jerks.

Whenever I see reckless people like these, I would remark to my kids, `Tengok tu. Dah tak tahan sangat nak buang air agaknya...' Except that the actual word I used for `buang air' is too crude to be printed.

After dishonest people, queue-jumpers are perhaps the type of people that I hate most.

Update 01 Dec 2021 : No security issues with this post

Of seeking forgiveness and renewing ties

The beauty of Eid-ul Fitri celebrations is that it allows you to visit elder relatives during a specific period. Otherwise, for whatever reason, most of us would find it difficult or even awkward to visit our grandparents, aunts or uncles if we do not have any specific reason to do so.

Aidilfitri gives us the opportunity to meet up, catch up on the latest stories and renew ties. The food, cookies and refreshments are just an aside from the main objective of the occasion. At the end of the visit, we salam and kiss the hands of our elders while asking them to forgive us for any transgressions that we may have done. The seeking of forgiveness from your senior relatives can be very poignant moments, accompanied almost always by hugs and tears... especially when your elder says, `Entah jumpa lagi tak kita ni tahun depan, ya?'.

My Aidilfitri for this year was spent with my parents in Singapore but the celebrations were held at my sister's house in Bukit Panjang. My sister had actually moved into her house some time back but she only managed to furnish it recently. She had asked our parents and my family to spend the Hari Raya at her home for the first time and we duly obliged. Sort of a house-warming and hari raya two-in-one deal.

The morning feast for Hari Raya consisted of our traditional lontong accompanied by sambal goreng, sambal kacang, ayam masak merah, daging goreng chili and serunding kelapa. We had to make do with the instant nasi himpit because my sister didn't have time to get the real coconut leaves to make ketupat.

The day was filled with visits by my cousins from both sides of the Causeway. Some of the cousins I have not met for a number of years. I got to meet some new nephews and nieces for the first time too.

Many of the visiting relatives complimented my sister and her husband on their beautiful home. They had spent a lot of time getting their house nicely decorated so the compliments were very encouraging. It was a joyous day indeed.

The following days of hari raya were spent back at my wife's kampong in Mersing. I'll post about it next, I hope. Need to take some rest now and prepare to get back to work tomorrow.

Update 08.11.2021 : A few of the those in the pictures are no longer here. My brother Azhar Bin Isma Yatim, my father Isma Yatim Bin Hj Ramli and my cousin Noraini Bt Rohani, have all departed. My sister and her first husband have divorced many years ago. She has since remarried. So the house mentioned in this post is all but a memory.

Salam Aidilfitri

Ketupat palas serunding daging,
Nasi dagang ikan tenggiri,
Hidangan enak dari pantai timur.
Buat sahabatku di alam blogging,
Salam ukhuwah di Aidilfitri,
Semuga berkekalan sepanjang umur.

Maaf zahir dan batin dari Oldstock dan famili.

Ar Raudah Mosque in Bukit Batok, Singapore where I'll be performing my Aidilfitri prayers, insyaallah.

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To all my blogger friends and everyone who has kindly dropped by, I wish you Happy Holidays. Watch what you eat, okay? Stay cool and see you after the break.

To tide you over until the next post, the following is the first part of my attempt at writing fiction. Just a short story that was first written years ago but re-discovered recently on an old 3.5" floppy. Luckily the file was still intact. Although written some time back, the story is still a work in progress (how's that for procrastinating, huh?).

A BINGO STRAIGHT TO THE HEART (Part 1)

It had been a very trying day. The drizzle that began early that morning further compounded the inevitable traffic jam in Kuala Lumpur on a late Saturday afternoon. My spirits weren’t particularly high that day; it hadn’t been for the past few weeks. There were problems at work and my car’s air-conditioning chose a nice time to run out of gas. Bummer.

I was in the lift lobby of the Ampang Puteri Specialist Hospital, waiting for the elevator to take me up to the 3rd floor where my father was being warded. The lift seemed to take ages to arrive, as things are wont to be whenever you are in a hurry. I had not noticed the tall gentleman standing a few feet behind me when he spoke.

“Assalamualaikum. Sorry… but are you Junainah?”

I turned my head, slightly surprised to see a smartly dressed young man who somehow knew my name.

“Alaikum-salam. Yes, I am.” I replied. The young man’s face does not look familiar to me, but then again, I’m poor at remembering faces.

“You studied at Sheffield Hallam University about 5 years ago, I believe. I don’t think you remember me but I was at your house once in the winter of 1990,” he said. I was searching my memory bank when he continued, “We played Scrabble that day, together with Aida and your housemates. I’m Johari, Aida’s classmate, or former classmate I should say.”

The mention of the Scrabble game suddenly brought the memories flooding back. Of course, now I remember! How can I ever forget that day; it had been a day of many `firsts’….

Update 08.11.2021 : Perhaps it is time for me to complete this short story...