Real old school

The boarding school that I went to, MRSM Kuantan, is 38-years old this year. Not quite as old as some of the more established boarding schools in our country but reasonably old when you consider that the first generation of students who came out of that place have passed the half-century mark in terms of age. And to further to illustrate this point on successive generations, two of my former classmates have/had children study at this same school.

1975 photo of a partially completed school. Pic lifted from Capt Norhisham Kassim's FB.

Maktab Rendah Sains MARA Kuantan, to give the school its full name, took in the first batch of students in 1974. The school facilities were not fully completed at that time but MARA pressed on and the us students persevered. The first intake of students, now known as Kuatagh Pioneers, were all boys. I guess they wanted to make sure the school was at least decently ready before bringing in the girls. The second batch who registered the following year had a mix of both boys and girls. You can imagine the excitement of the seniors at having younger sisters to watch over... you know, teenage puberty and adolescent hormones :-)

I enrolled at MRSM Kuantan in 1978 at the 4th Form level, so I am considered as the second batch, with K79 being our alumni identification number (1979 being the year we took our MCE/SPM exams). In the short two years I was there, I have plenty of memories, both good and bad. But we should not dwell on the bad for too long... better to think of the happy events and experiences that helped shape what we are today. All of us have moved on in our lives. Some of us are pretty successful in their respective careers while some are doing okay. But this disparity in achievement has never prevented any of us to reunite and have some coffee together. Whenever some of us meet up for a specific occasion, it is always happy chatting about stories of those mischievous years, of carefree days and youthful adventures. And then we would ask about some of our friends who've been missing... if anyone knows where this particular he or she is, or what he/she is doing today.

In 1979 when we were in Form 5, there were 121 of us who took the MCE/SPM exams, 34 girls and 87 guys. Although most of us regularly meet and do keep in touch, there are still a number of our friends whose whereabouts are unknown. Understandably, some of them prefer to remain isolated... and we respect such decisions, but we still harbour hope of at least knowing a piece of news that he/she is alive somewhere. This is important because we are brothers and sisters. Of the 121 total, seven of our batch have been called by the Almighty. These are the ones that we know... it could be more.

I am thinking of my K79 brothers and sisters at this moment because a reunion is being held for today and tomorrow at our old school in Kuantan. Unfortunately, I am not able to make it to the event although I very much want to. The last similar occasion I attended was the Aidilfitri reunion in 2010. I hear that the turnout may be larger this time, with some friends turning up after being MIA for 33 years.

This event is actually the 37th anniversary of enrolment of the second batch at MRSM Kuantan but the ocassion is not to celebrate the 37 years, rather the fact that Batch No. 2 students are 50-years old this year. This is somewhat a continuation of the effort by our seniors who held their reunion at the school last year. Whether this trend will continue with the K80 batch, we'll have to wait for next year.

To all my brothers and sisters who are in the old school today and tomorrow, do have a wonderful time catching up with each other. Don't embarrass yourselves in front of our younger brothers and sisters (who'd most probably call you pakcik and makcik). Take care and I love you all.

Interlude

I hope I won't get kicked by my friend Versedanggerik for this...

Three kicks


A lawyer was out shooting and shot a duck. As he was about to pick it up, a farmer appeared. "This is my land", said the farmer, "so that is my duck".


"I shot it," said the lawyer. "That means it is my duck and I will sue you to prove it."


"Round here, we don’t hold with court cases," said the farmer. "We go by the Three Kicks Law. I kick you three times; and if you can get back on your feet and kick me three times, the duck is yours."


The lawyer, reckoning he could kick far harder than any farmer, said: "Fair enough." So the farmer kicked him once in the knee, then in the ribs and finally in the groin. "All right," groaned the lawyer, stumbling back on his feet, "now it's my turn."


"Oh, forget it," said the farmer. "You can have the duck."

Arab food in a malay village

My first taste of an arabic dish was when I was a small boy. For breakfast one day, my mother cooked some mashed green-coloured beans with spices and toasted a few french loaf slices to go with it. The dish was eaten with an egg fried in ghee plus some roughly-chopped onions and green chillies as garnish.

At first try, the thing had a spicy-bitter taste that was hard to describe... but I loved it. Mom said that the dish is called `kacang pol'. Funny name, I thought... but later on in life I noted that there are variants to the name : pol, pool, ful and even phool. All these from translating the original arabic name of foul medames.

In my trip to Cairo in 2004, I had my first taste of authentic foul medames. The buffet breakfast spread at the hotel had two versions of the dish, Egyptian-style and Lebanese-style... of course I tried both. Slightly different tasting compared to mom's version but delicious all the same.

My exposure to middle-eastern cuisine further broadened during my short stint working in the United Arab Emirates. The tough pressure of work was somewhat compensated by food-tasting adventures. That was where I developed an affection for lamb mandey and lovely fresh salad dishes. Nowadays, whenever I hear of an Arabic restaurant opening up in KL, I would make an effort to try it out. To date, Saba Restaurant at Jelatek is still the best in my book.

Of late, Johor Bahru is seeing a few genuine Arabic restaurants opening for business... genuine in this sense, meaning with real Arab cooks. Not those run by locals who cook from recipes they learned when they were students in Egypt or Jordan or wherever. The latest one is called Wadi El-Arab Restaurant located right here in my district of Kg Melayu Majidee. It just opened a few weeks ago and I must say the owner is taking a huge gamble in opening a speciality restaurant out of the city centre.

It was our youngest son's 17th birthday on Friday and so I decided to have the celebration dinner at this new eating place. Wadi El-Arab is located just across the Medan Selera Kg Melayu (where you can get the best ABC in all of JB). The place used to be someone's house and was renovated into a restaurant. Decor-wise, there is nothing to shout about. The front part of the dining area is carpeted and has low tables for that sitting-on-the-floor experience. The inner dining area has simple round tables of the kopitiam type, not quite to my liking.

The menu choices is about average I guess, but sufficient enough for those not familiar with arabian food to try out some variety. They have bokhari rice, makloubeh, kofta, shawarma, shish tawok plus some salads and soups. Most importantly (to me, at least) they have mandey.

The birthday boy and his elder brother had grilled lamb kofta while the missus ordered the same but beef. These are spiced minced meat rolled onto metal skewers, grilled over charcoal fire, served with roasted eggplant and homous, and eaten with arab flat bread. I ordered what else but lamb mandey... at RM19.80 per plate, the most expensive rice dish on the main course menu. Wasn't the best that I had (which would still be at a restaurant somewhere in Muscat, Oman) but still on the okay side. The kofta dishes are the tasty ones. Overall not too bad... but they really need to pull in more crowd to make the long haul.

The cover menu card

Mandey lamb rice

Lamb kofta

And I honestly hope they do because it is now so easy for me to satisfy my craving for a mid-eastern dish with this place at my doorstep. I'm already thinking of the next dish to try.... perhaps their makloubeh, the upside-down rice and lamb/chicken combo.

Popular negatives

In the English language, the opposite meaning of many words are created by the addition of prefixes. For example :

• de : form / deform
• dis : able / disable
• il : legible / illegible
• im : potent / impotent
• in : direct / indirect
• un : true / untrue

If you observe carefully, the application of such prefixes are onto words that are generally in the positive sense. Adding the prefix makes them negative - happy to unhappy, pleased to displeased, practical to impractical and so on. There are not many inherently negative words that become antonyms by simply adding a prefix. Let's try out some :

Would un-ugly mean pretty?
Does dis-cheat mean we are being honest?
Or would im-messy clothes mean we are smartly-dressed?

There are however, a few words that break this convention. I was reading a news article the other day and realised that the reporter had used such a word. The word is - impeccable. Apparently, there is such a word as `peccable', which means `liable to sin or error'. Adding the prefix im- makes the word carry a positive meaning. Another example that comes to mind is `indefatigable', which in itself, is quite unique because it has double prefixes.

`Impeccable' and `indefatigable' also fall into another category which I'd like to call as `popular negatives'. These are words where the prefixed form are in more common use than the root form. Here are some examples, plus a sample sentence I've written using the base form of the word, and you tell me if I don't sound awkward  :

1. illicit : I passed through airport customs without any problems because I only carried licit goods in my baggage.

2. unscrupulous : I employed that young lady to handle the company accounts because of her scrupulous behaviour.

3. dismantle : I've lost the original instruction guide so now I don't know how to mantle all these parts back together.

4. incontinent : Of course these diapers are not for me, I'm continent!

I am sure there are other examples. Perhaps you know of some more. Enjoy the long weekend, my friends...

Can register to vote

Our second son, who studies at a university in Indonesia, is back at home for a short term-break. We picked him at LCCT last Sunday. Yesterday, January 18th, was his 21st birthday.

We missed celebrating his previous birthday together because he was away at school. The year before that, I took him and some of his friends for dinner at Shah Alam. That event made it into this blog and was posted here -> Two birthdays.

Last night, we had a celebration dinner at Banafee Village Restaurant, a lovely makan place I've previously written about. My wife bought a cake from Secret Recipe and brought it along for the dinner. The cake box was placed at the edge of the table and we had not thought of doing anything special. A sharp-eyed waiter saw the box and offered to keep the cake in their cooler until it's time for dessert.

As expected, the birthday boy ordered a lamb dish but our youngest son surprised me by ordering grilled salmon. The missus had grilled chicken chop while yours truly could not resist trying another Arabic menu, lamb kabsah. I broke my own self-imposed rule of not eating lamb/mutton more than once a week. Just the night before, I went out for dinner with an ex-colleague from KL. We went to a newly-opened restaurant selling western-style dishes where I had lamb chops while my friend had chicken chop. Quite delicious... I should write a blog-post about this place soon.

Lamb kabsah

Two large candles and a smaller one in between

As we finished eating our main meal, the waiter came back with the birthday cake and also gave us four small plates. He then produced a pen and a piece of paper, and asked my wife to write down the birthday boy's name. She asked, why? To pass to the singer, he said. I hadn't noticed that the two-member live singing team were on stage and making preparations to perform.

And so yesterday, a young man named Harith Shahiran got to blow out the candles on his birthday cake at the end of the most recognized song in the world, sung by a professional singer. May good things always come your way, my son...