Selingan...

Ramai dari orang kita.... ilmunya tinggi tetapi pemikiran cetek.

Pengalamannya luas tetapi pandangan sempit.

Berlagak sebagai pemimpin kepada ramai tetapi tingkah laku dipengaruhi segilintir.

Berbicara dengan penuh kobar tetapi bertindak sekadar indah khabar...

Low tide at sunset (October 2011)

Are you a keeper or a thrower?

The title of this post has nothing to do with sports. It is something that relates to human nature and behaviour. According to a study I read somewhere, when it comes to possessions, human beings fall into two main categories... either you are a keeper (one who likes to keep many of his old stuff) or you are a thrower (one who prefers to discard old items and replace them with new). Actually, I cannot remember the proper term used in that study to identify these two types of people but I'm sure you know what I mean.

I am declaring upfront that I am a keeper. I keep a lot of my old stuff. Knick-knacks, souvenirs, handwritten letters, postcards, books and of course photographs. These things are kept because they all have some form of memory or history attached. But you cannot call yourself a true keeper until you keep other items as well. Things that are outdated and in most cases, practically useless. Under this group of stuff, I have in my possession old receipts, credit card statements, ATM slips, my university lecture notes, shoes, spectacles and my box of LP records bought when I was still a student. Crazy, huh? I mean, who listens to music played from vinyl albums nowadays? Firstly, you'd have to look for a turntable to play it. Secondly, the sound quality is not as good as the widely available CDs. Even if you crave to listen to music from the '70s and '80s, much of them are available today in MP3 form and downloadable from the internet.

Just to let you know, I still have my first turntable. It no longer works, of course... and sits there in one corner of my store gathering dust. Why haven't I thrown it away? Why do I still keep receipts of items I bought many years ago? What use can I have of those old round-shaped John Lennon type of spectacles which I thought looked cool when I was in my twenties? Why do I hang on to a bunch of keys that open doors or locks that I do not know of anymore?

I really can't give you a simple answer... but if you put a gun to my head, I'd say,"It's in the genes..." It is not that I don't throw stuff away. I do carry out spring cleaning every few years (the `few' here is very subjective) but when carrying out such tasks, I end up flipping and reading up old items and re-living the memories attached to them. Like for example, when I wanted to dispose off large files of my lecture notes... I flipped through one of the folders and found an old assignment paper regarding construction law. I re-read what I wrote nearly 30 years ago and felt a certain kind of warmth. It brought to mind the time I spent reading up on the subject and the effort in writing that paper. After finish re-reading it, I decided to keep my notes for a while longer.

Envelope containing handwritten letter from Japanese friend Akemi Koga. The letter is dated 12 April 1992 and she wrote the first two paragraphs in Bahasa Melayu. How can I throw away such a lovely item like this?

British Railcard from student days

Apart from memories, another factor that holds back keepers from disposing off stuff is the thought that there could be some handy use for the item at some particular point in the future. When any of my household appliance breaks down, I always try to salvage parts that still function. It gives me satisfaction when the occasion would come where the part that I saved becomes useful... but more often than not, such parts are never re-used and end up being stored as junk. Call me stingy, if you like, but re-cycling is in my blood.

My mother is also a keeper (did I not say earlier that it is in the genes?), even more hardcore than me. When we were renovating our house many years ago, she instructed that a separate shed be built at the back to be used as a store. Half of the stuff in that store today belongs to her. You can probably guess what some of these things are... plates, bowls and cups. Pieces of china from the '60s era.

My youngest sister, on the other hand, is a thrower. She doesn't like to keep too many old things. When she moved to a new house, she bought mostly new furniture and disposed off the old ones. When her hobby of keeping aquarium fish waned, she wanted to get rid of the lovely wrought-iron tank stand. Guess who offered to take the thing off her hands?

My habit of keeping stuff is still not that serious... not reaching the stage of being a hoarder yet. But I seriously need to get rid off a lot of objects in my store because it is too crammed now. Throw away a lot of the old junk... so that I can create some space for newer junk...

Food for thought...

When I was a young boy, I loved eating durians. It used to puzzle me back then, why westerners find the smell of the fruit so disgusting. I used to believe that the king of fruits has the best aroma in the world... so how can anyone describe the smell as being stinky?

As I grow older, I slowly come to realise that different people have different tastes and perceptions. One man's meat is another man's poison. And we don't even have to look at a foreign culture to understand this. Even within our own country, the type of food commonly found in one particular region may not necessarily find favour at another.

My exposure to the varying regional flavours began when I entered boarding school. The school is located on the east coast but students come from all over the country. Indeed, the first boy whom I met when checking into the hostel was this guy from Kedah. He spoke in a thick northern accent which I initially thought sounded weird. Later when I met boys from Kelantan, I thought they sounded even weirder. It was from one of these Kelantan friends that I learned about budu. After returning back to school from one of the term breaks, he brought along some of the stuff to show me and sample the taste. My first thought.... Good lord! How can anyone like this?

Till today, I still have not acquired the taste for budu although now I do like to eat nasi kerabu, which in itself gave me a somewhat apprehensive first impression. I mean... purple-coloured rice? Bizzare.

When I got the chance to study in England, the experience of foreign food culture became more interesting. The English love their fish and chips. They liberally spray their chips with salt and vinegar. When I buy this item from the takeaway chip shop, I always say, `Just salt, no vinegar please.' Vinegar, to me, is the stuff my mum use to soak kaffir limes to make her delicious acar limau.

While on a backpacking trip to Europe during one of the summer holidays, I came upon a shop in Switzerland selling all kinds of cheese. The view from outside the shop window was quite lovely... there were cheese of different shapes and sizes in varying colours of white, yellow and even shades of red. I decided to enter and have a better look. The moment I opened the door and took my first step inside, the pong hit me like a blast. I made a quick u-turn for the fresh air outside. I thought the cheese smelt terrible!

It then dawned on me... this must be exactly the same feeling when Mat Sallehs get a whiff of our durians for their first time. Strangely nowadays, I don't consider the durian as my favourite fruit anymore. I still eat it... but I won't go crazy if I don't get it.

So why am I writing about food today after not posting for such a long time? Well, a few days ago I was watching this overseas cooking show on satellite TV and saw a familiar looking vegetable being used as one of the ingredients, but the Mat Salleh called it in a name I've never heard of before. The vegetable (or more correctly, tuber root) is called jicama, pronounced in the Spanish style as hi-ka-ma. Locally, we all know it as sengkuang, a favoured ingredient in our rojak. Also a compulsory item when my mum cooks her kuah lodeh for lontong.

I had always thought the English name for sengkuang was turnip. Apparently I am wrong. You learn something new every day. Seems like some westerners like to have sengkuang in their salads too...

Note : Pic on the left borrowed from TryMasak Online.

Gift or inducement?

It is the norm, come festive seasons, for many of us to be giving or receiving gifts in the form of hampers. Such a practice is normally done based on a business relationship rather than a personal one… I mean you’d never send a hari raya hamper to your old school friend, would you? Also, the act of giving and receiving is almost always a one-way street. From a supplier to a customer. From a contractor to a client. From a sub-contractor to the main contractor. In short, from a beneficiary to another who is in authority. Never the other way round.

Which begs the question : is hamper-giving during festive season to be considered a token of gratitude or an inducement of (future) favours? Having been on both sides of this equation throughout my working life, I can offer arguments either way… indeed, I’ve had long and serious discourse with colleagues on such an interesting topic, but that is not the intention of this post. We’ll leave the discussions on ethics for another day.

I’d like to talk about the hamper itself… or rather, the things that are packed or wrapped inside the standard hamper to create a visually enticing gift.

Many years ago, during the early days of being in the work market, it used to be quite exciting to be receiving hampers. The feeling is not unlike a school kid getting a gift of candy. It did not matter what was inside the hamper, as long as it was BIG and nicely wrapped in colourful cellophane paper. Pretty soon, the novelty wore off when you realise the stuff inside such hampers are simply packs or cans of everyday foodstuff, most of which you would not normally buy on your own anyway. I may sound like an ingrate but the things they give you are so easily predictable… boxes of chocolate, confectionery, cookies, cans of preserved fruits and maybe some glassware. All these arranged in a plastic basket with a bottle of orange squash concentrate or bubbly fruit drink forming the pinnacle.

The sad thing is, most of the items are from unknown manufacturers (ok lah… if you want me to say it crudely, `unbranded’). In the hamper that I received this year, the only recognizable item is the box of Ferrero Rocher chocolates (to give the hamper a look of respectability, agaknya lah). The box of biscuits is an unknown brand from a factory in Batu Pahat. The can of fish cracker snacks is made by a manufacturer I’ve never heard of before. The bottle of mango cordial is similary from some obscure source, definitely not found on the supermarket shelves.

There you have it… I totally sound like an ungrateful jerk, aren’t I? Dah dapat hamper, nak komplen lagi!

Which now brings me to the point that I really want to make. If you honestly want to give something to somebody to show your appreciation, then please put some thought into what you intend to give. Don’t just pick a typical package from those fly-by-night hamper packing companies that mushroom during festive seasons.

At one of the place where I used to work, we gave our clients gifts of quality hari raya cakes and cookies packed in beautiful wicker baskets, each tied with a lovely ribbon. Doesn’t cost much more than the standard food hamper and certainly much smaller, but I’m pretty sure, much more appreciated.

This year's Aidilfitri...

The first day of Aidilfitri this year was spent at my parents' home in Singapore. My father and my mother are the oldest surviving family members this side of the causeway and as such, they have become the focal point of visits from relatives during this festive occasion. My wife and I have to act as hosts in receiving the large number of guests, most of whom are my cousins and their children.

As always, it was a noisy and joyous day throughout, even though it was pretty tiring... but then, it is only for one celebration each year. Otherwise I doubt us cousins would meet up at all.

It was also a happier hari raya for us this time because my youngest brother who's based overseas, is presently home for the holidays with his family. I got to meet my two nieces and one nephew whom I last saw more than three years ago. With the exception of my second son (who is back in college in Indonesia), my father and mother had an Aidilfitri with the full complement of their grandchildren.

Grandparents and their grandchildren. The eldest grandson is 22 years while the youngest granddaughter is 8.