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.

Kekurangan jemaah

Tapak projek di mana saya bertugas sekarang terletak di kawasan pendalaman di daerah yang dikatakan sebagai tanah paling selatan di hujung benua Asia. Nak kata jauh dari jalan utama... tak juga sebenarnya, tapi kira memang kawasan kampung.

Banyak juga kampung di kawasan ini yang mana penduduknya rata-rata adalah pekebun kecil ataupun nelayan. Dengan adanya beberapa projek pembangunan, maka adalah peluang pekerjaan bagi anak-anak muda tempatan untuk bekerja sebagai pekerja binaan mahir ataupun buruh biasa. Namun begitu, tugasan seperti ini bersifat sementara. Anak-anak muda dari kampung lebih gemar mencari pekerjaan tetap di bandar-bandar besar.

Pejabat tapakbina syarikat saya terletak berhampiran dengan kampung yang sedap namanya... Kg Sungai Dinar. Bila ada kelapangan, saya serta staff-staff yang lain gemar melaksanakan solat waktu secara berjemaah di masjid kampung itu, lebih-lebih lagi di bulan ramadhan yang mulia ini. Apa yang saya perhatikan pada setiap solat jemaah ialah bilangan makmum yang tersangatlah sedikit... itupun majoritinya dari kalangan kami yang bukan penduduk tempatan. Kalau dalam satu saf itu ada sepuluh orang, tujuh darinya adalah kami pekerja-pekerja dari syarikat binaan yang terlibat di sana.

Pada solat asar petang semalam, saya ke masjid bersama seorang rakan setugas. Setelah azan dilaungkan oleh Pak Bilal, tiada lagi makmum yang muncul tiba... jadi akhirnya solat berjemaah kami tiga orang sahaja. Ya, mungkin orang lain sudah bercuti atau sibuk ke pasar membeli persiapan hari raya... tapi sedih juga lah kan.

Dan saya rasa... perkara yang sama turut dialami oleh masjid-masjid kampung pendalaman, di mana jua di tanahair kita ini.

Salam Aidifitri buat semua pembaca. Semuga Allah swt menerima amalan kita semua...

Ada mee di sebalik udang...

If you happen to travel from Pontian town towards the fishing village of Kukup, you may notice a bridge crossing Sungai Rambah. Next to this bridge is a small fisherman's jetty and a simple foodstall. The look of the foodstall is nothing to write about... I've passed by this road countless times and had not noticed it until a friend suggested I try tasting the mee bandung udang. And when it comes to trying out tasty makan places, I'm always up for it...

A few days ago, I was on my way to look for a place to break my fast and noticed that the foodstall was open. I made a stop and had a look at the simple handwritten menu on a large card pasted on the wall. I ordered a nescafe tarik and mee bandung.

The stall owner asks if I want mee bandung biasa, mee bandung udang or mee bandung udang special. `Yang special tu macam mana bang?' I ask back.

`Oh, yang itu udang lebih,' was the simple reply. Of course I have to go for the special la kan?

Prawns and noodles are really meant for each other. Any dish involving the combination of these two ingredients normally cannot go wrong. When my plate of mee bandung udang special arrived at my table, the large prawns actually covered the noodles. The whole dish was delicious. The prawns were fresh and the gravy tasty too. Of course I had to sort of not think about the effects of increased cholesterol intake... if you know what I mean.

Makanlah selagi ada selera.... that's my motto.

At only RM8 a plate, this dish was worth it

Going back to my roots...

It has been quite a while since my last post. The new job I'm involved in now has really sapped up most of my time and energy. There have been times I have thought of giving up but that would've been the easy way out. Things have gotten a bit better the last few days and I guess it is fair for me to follow the sort of advice I normally give to others when facing similar situations. Going through tough times can only make you tougher... you won't learn much by doing things the easy way.

I am now working at a project located in the district where I was born. I can't actually say it is my hometown because I did not grow up here. I was born at my late maternal grandfather's house in Pontian, Johor but I grew up in Singapore when my father moved the family across the causeway the year after I was born. The only childhood memories I have of this small town are the times when my father took us back to visit our grandparents for Hari Raya.

My grandfather and grandmother of course, both have left us a long time ago but the old house is still there, now occupied by an uncle and his children. The story of this house was posted earlier here -> Day trip back to the kampung.

Now I find myself spending a bit more time at this small town, probably more often that I have ever done before.

After settling most of my work stuff earlier today, I had some time to kill and so decided to take a drive to Pontian and look for a place to break my fast. On the way, I stopped by a recreational park near Rambah to enjoy the beautiful sunset. There is this Bugis Museum nearby but it has already closed for the day. Maybe I'll drop by another time and have a look at what's on display.

Suspension bridge

The sky at sunset. The dark shape on the horizon is Pulau Pisang.

After snapping some photos of the sunset with a simple compact camera, I left the park and proceeded to Pontian town for some chow.

I'll end this post now with my first fasting month story. This incident actually happened last year and I am prompted to tell it after reading blogger-friend Kak Teh's status update in her Facebook yesterday...

The family and I were visiting a Ramadhan bazaar near our home in JB. We stopped by a stall selling nasi lemak ayam goreng berempah. While the seller was packing our order, I casually out of habit, picked up a kacang tanah goreng (fried groundnut) from the large plastic container in front of me and popped it into my mouth. I was happily munching away when I noticed the seller strangely staring at me. My first thought was... eh, tak kan kacang sebiji pun kau nak kira ke? Lokek sangat.

After paying for the purchase and walking away, I then realised he was staring at me for another reason! Orang tua ni tak puasa ke?! Hahaha....

Time flies when you're having fun

Well.... I'm not actually having fun. For the past two weeks I have been entrenched in my new job with hardly any time to think about blogging. The project that I have been put in charge now has already been running for three months and therefore I need to get up to speed in double quick time. It has been half-a-month of meeting deadlines, preparing reports and resolving site issues. Pretty tense at times.

Nonetheless, it is better than being bored doing nothing. This new project I am involved in is located way down south, in a place touted to be the southernmost point of the Asian continent. I'll tell you folks more about this place later when the work has stabilised and I've found my rhythm.

Being located in a small town near the sea means that I'm experiencing a change in my diet. I am now eating fish more frequently than I have ever been. Tonight's dinner was ikan pari bakar or actually baby stingray we call as tuka. The fish was fresh of course... and the chilli sambal paste was exceedingly tasty and not too hot.

Small stingray grilled with chilli paste

Ok then.... catch up with you guys again soon.

How come the tasty stuff are the bad ones too?

In the previous post, I wrote about the passing of my friend's eldest son due to a complication I have never heard of before. Although I'm not a doctor, I thought I have heard or read about most of the life-threatening diseases there are. Just goes to show that when it comes to subject of the human body's health, there are still so many things that we have yet to know.

No doubt, the prophet Muhammad s.a.w. had mentioned that for every ailment, there is a cure. It is just that the present human skills and capability have not discovered most of them yet.

Which now brings me to the subject of my own health. About two years ago, I posted the results of my medical tests in this blog. It showed an improvement in the total cholesterol level in my blood that has fallen below reference level and a slightly high uric acid level. This caused me to seriously re-think the stuff that I eat everyday so that I could maintain the cholesterol level and perhaps reduce the uric acid level.

Apparently, I have not been serious enough...

The results of my latest medical check-up came in a few weeks ago... and they do not look too good. Well actually, I am generally okay... except for the two items above which have been a bane in my medical history. My total cholesterol level jumped from a low of 4.5 mmol/L to a high of 5.7 mmol/L, i.e above the reference level of 5.2. The uric acid level did not improve either, rising from 0.45 mmol/L to 0.49 mmol/L, above the reference level of 0.42.

This is not good at all. The high levels of these two substances are primarily due to diet. Red meat, shellfish, anchovies, tuna, soy beans (plus all its derivatives such as kicap and tempe) and a whole lot of other tasty stuff. Perhaps I should just become a vegetarian...

The human body's filtration system

Around two weeks ago, a friend of mine Zaaba Ahmad, posted on his Facebook status about his son's medical condition. He mentions IgA Nephropathy. I didn't know what it means so I immediately ran a google search. Upon reading a few of the online reference sources, I became a bit depressed. The eldest son of my friend is suffering from a very serious ailment. I copy below, the first two opening lines from one website, and you'll understand what I mean :

IgA nephropathy is a kidney disorder that occurs when IgA—a protein that helps the body fight infections—settles in the kidneys. After many years, the IgA deposits may cause the kidneys to leak blood and sometimes protein in the urine. (source - NIDDK)

Our kidneys functions as the natural filtration system for our body. It removes wastes and excess water from our blood and discharges them as urine. Damaged and diseased kidneys are seldom treatable. More often than not, transplant is the only solution.

Early this week, Zaaba transferred his son from a hospital in Seremban to the HTAA Hospital in Kuantan. The young man was studying for A-levels at a Seremban college and had in fact, sat for his exams while warded. His condition had not improved and Zaaba decided to transfer the son to Kuantan to be nearer his hometown so the family can easily be by his bedside. Zaaba kept us friends updated by posting news on FB.

Yesterday the young man slipped into coma and was warded in ICU. I managed to get a call through to my friend at 11.00 am today. He was at the hospital and told me that the situation did not look good. The son is on a life support machine. I couldn't say much except offer to pray for his son. I almost cried...

At around 5pm, I received a message from another friend who was at the hospital.... they have stopped the respirator. Zaaba has lost his 20-year old son.

My condolonces to Zaaba and his family. May the Almighty place the soul of Afiq Aiman Bin Zaaba among the pious.

The joy of meeting friends from cyberspace

Some time back, in the early days of this 3-year old blog, I wrote the following :

I created this blog primarily as an avenue to sharpen my writing and story-telling skills. It's a very modest journal on personal experiences mostly. It also gives me the chance to meet other writers in blogosphere. Along the way, I get to be friends with readers, commenters and other fellow bloggers... and this is a good thing. Thanks to all of you for dropping by and having something to say about what I write. Most appreciated. I truly hope that we'll be able to meet in real life, one day.

During my young days in primary school, I loved writing. English composition was my favourite subject. Those days I wrote to a number of pen pals (wonder if such a hobby still exists today). I never got to meet any of my letter-writing friends. The interest in writing stopped for a while when I went for further studies. Thanks to this phenomenon of blogging, I re-discovered this old pastime.

In blogosphere, I came across other like-minded souls. I am glad to note that I have succeeded in meeting some of my blogger friends and regular commenters... and with that, I hope our friendship will continue to last.

The very first blogger-friend I met in person is Versedanggerik who lives in Kuantan. That was back in 2008. I met her again early this year when I was again in Kuantan and she graciously invited me for tea so that she could introduce me to her other half. As it turns out, Mr Ahan and I do have something in common.

One weekend in early May, I managed to meet up with Kak Teh and her hubby Awang Goneng for the latter's book promotion at MPH Mid-valley. The following week, I met Emila Yusof at Silverfish books in Bangsar. I met Emila again early this week when she handed over a watercolour painting of hers that I decided to buy.

An original Emila Yusof creation called Rose II

On the 4th of June, I attended the wedding of Zendra's son, where I got to meet Kak Zen and her husband Red Alfa. Finally, two days ago I met up with Pak Zawi at his daughter's house in Puchong, to hand over the autographed copy of Awang Goneng's `A Map of Trengganu'.

Pak Zawi with his adorable grandchildren

Putting them all as a list will look like this :-

1. Versedanggerik - Ahan in the afternoon
2. Kak Teh - Choc-a-bloc blog
3. Emila Yusof - Emila Yusof's Illustrations
4. Zendra Maria - Zendra's fascinations
5. Pak Zawi - Life as I see it

Really lovely people, all of them. I am glad to have met their acquaintance. There are many more of the wonderful friends on my blogroll whom I wish to meet. God willing, the time will come when our paths cross in real life.

Telling the truth now, will hurt... but not telling will hurt even more

There are certain times in our lives when we face a situation that puts us in dilemma. More often than not, such a situation is a result of a decision or choice we made quite a long time ago. At the point in time when the decision was made, we believed that it was the correct one, or at least it was the most appropriate one under the circumstances. In actual fact, we are merely pushing the problem to a later date, hoping that somehow a favourable solution would present itself sometime in the future. Sooner or later, we come to the inevitable point of dealing with the matter, whether we like it or not.

A few days ago, my cousin met me to discuss about a problem she is facing. She is making preparations for the wedding of her only daughter in a few month's time. She wants my help to arrange for my mother (being the closest elder family member) to be present when she breaks an important piece of news to the young lady who's getting married. And what is this important bit of news that needs to be told?

The young lady is adopted. My niece is not my cousin's biological daughter. When my cousin got married many years ago, she found out that she couldn't bear any children of her own. An opportunity came by her way when someone gave up a baby girl for adoption. My cousin took up the offer and proceeded to raise the girl as her own. I can still remember the first time I set eyes on my cousin's new daughter. She was so cute and chubby, and everyone adored her.

The baby girl has now grown up to be a pretty young lady. She started work as a graphic designer a few years ago and her hand is now sought in marriage by a handsome young man.

The time has therefore arrived for the mother to reveal to the daughter who she actually is. It is something that cannot be avoided, especially in Muslim marriages. My cousin is now in the unenviable position of finding a way of breaking the news to the young lady. I can picture the heartache and grief that both mother and daughter will face when the news is broken. Expect tears to flow, all around.

Why is my cousin asking me for advice? Because I have first-hand experience of such a situation. My own youngest sister is adopted. The day when my parents told her the real story was one of the saddest days of my life.

I recall the day very well. My mother had called me one day, asking me to come home urgently. Something to do with my sister, she said. I went to my parent's home with my wife. On reaching there, I saw that all my three younger brothers have already arrived. When we were all seated, my father started to speak. The old man is a seasoned speaker and he delivered the story in a most gentle and calm manner as he could. Even so, how are we to know what my sister felt at that time? When my father finished speaking, it was the turn of my mother... and the emotions started to flow as soon as she spoke. When she finished, the time came for the brothers to speak. Being the eldest, I spoke first. I wasn't sure what I said had helped relieve my sister's feeling of grief and possibly disappointment at that time.

I love my sister very much. Before she came into our life, we were four mischievous siblings, all boys. My mother brought her home when I was 13-years old. I helped my mother take care of her until the day I had to enroll into boarding school. Never once did it cross my mind that she and I do not carry the same blood.

I told my cousin our story. How she would approach her own situation now would very much depend on how she expect the reaction would be from her daughter. It would be preferable, I thought, if my cousin was to speak to her daughter on a one-to-one basis. The fewer people around, the better... because it always hurt you more to know that other people know about your background than your own self. But if my cousin feels that she needs our moral support, then we will be there. Whatever it is, I hope she doesn't wait too long. Waiting does not help lighten the sorrow...

Teluk Iskandar Inn

I am sitting at a lovely veranda as I type this entry... enjoying a simple breakfast of scrambled eggs on toast with black coffee, while at the same time taking in a splendid view of the calm South China Sea. The day is bright and not yet warm and a gentle breeze blows. No doubt in a short while it would be hot and humid once the sun reaches its peak. Even so, I don't think that would spoil the peaceful and tranquil setting of this place.

The breakfast veranda

I am presently lodged at Teluk Iskandar Inn in Mersing on the east coast of Johor. We checked in late evening yesterday and plan to attend the wedding reception of our niece later this afternoon.

Teluk Iskandar Inn is a quaint, privately-run establishment owned by an elderly Malay couple, Puan Kamariah and Encik Ibrahim. It is located on a piece of land with sea frontage, not too far away from Mersing town. I have noticed this place many years ago but never had the chance to set foot in it. Mersing is my wife's hometown and it doesn't make sense to `balik kampung' and yet go stay at a hotel. This time around, we are back only for a wedding. The family kampung house has not been occupied for a few months and would need some effort to get cleaned.

I got to know of this inn from online reviews and have been keen to give it a try for quite some time. It doesn't have that many rooms and early booking is recommended. The rooms are set out in a elevated terraced layout that extends from the house proper (where the owners stay). The upper level is where the rooms are located while the area below (what Malays call kolong) have been simply but tastefully decorated as a lepak area. The bedrooms are basic but adequate... no fancy flatscreen satellite TV or the like, which would actually look out of place in such a rustic setting. But online addicts (yours truly included) need not fret... the wi-fi signal here is strong and reliable.

View from the beach side towards the house

Nice place to relax

Foreigners have been coming to Mersing and staying at this inn for many years. Their recommendations have made it even to Lonely Planet. At the rest lounge below the rooms, there is this framed hand-written list prepared by a Matsalleh couple. It lists out all the birds they have seen while staying here. There are 24 species. I'm no bird-watcher, so most of the names escape me... but one did capture my attention, the brahminy kite. This is a type of bird-of-prey that feeds on fish and other marine animals. I kept an eye out for the bird during my early morning walk on the beach to catch the sunrise, but did not spot any.

Lovely place, this Teluk Iskandar Inn... how I wish I can own such a place as this when I retire.

Sunrise on the east-coast

Sesekali ku rasa teringin...

I first started my career as an engineer with a state-government agency in Johor back in 1984. I shared a house with a few other bachelor friends from the same workplace. Our office was situated in the tower block of Kompleks Tun Abdul Razak, smack in the middle of Johor Bahru town.

Those days, the town's central wet market was situated next to Komtar. At the end of each working day when the market closes for business, the lanes surrounding it are taken over by push-cart hawkers and night vendors selling a variety of cooked food items and other knick-knacks. Among those selling the foodstuff is this one stall that sells nasi beringin. My housemates and I used to frequent this stall after work because the food is very tasty.

The central market was later torn down and shifted to another site in Larkin. In its place they built a shopping mall and office block now known as City Square. With the demolition of the market, the temporary night traders had to make way too. I didn't know where the nasi beringin seller moved to... and so ceased eating this dish for some time. There wasn't any other makan place in JB that sells the same stuff.

Many years later, a friend from Muar told me that there is a shop in the Tanjung Agas area selling nasi beringin. Whenever I have the chance to visit him, he would take me dinner at that place. The rice wasn't as tasty as the one I remember from the stall at JB wet market, but it wasn't too bad either.

During my first working stint in Kuala Lumpur a few years ago, an acquaintance from TNB Hq mentioned that there is a foodstall in Bangsar which sells delicious nasi beringin. I asked him for the exact location and then went to search for the place. The stall is located within a foodcourt inside an office block behind the NST Balai Berita... not really that difficult to find but getting a parking space is near torture. That is why I have been to the stall only once.

Earlier today, I was in the Bangsar area and remembered about the nasi beringin stall again. Since it was not yet quite mid-day, I decided to drop by the place ahead of the lunchtime crowd. But all would depend if I could find a space to park. As luck would have it, I manage to find an empty lot on my second driving lap around Jalan Riong and Jalan Liku. And so my lunch today was nasi beringin with beef rendang and boiled egg curry.

Today's lunch of nasi beringin and ice-lemon tea

Nasi beringin is rice flavoured with coconut milk and other spices, not unlike nasi lemak but with a more pungent aroma. It is normally eaten with chicken or beef, cooked in any style... fried, curry or rendang. The name has nothing to do with the pokok beringin (banyan tree), more famously known because of relation to ghost stories.

As far as I know, there is only this one place in KL that sells nasi beringin. Personally, there is nothing really that spectacular about the taste but if you wish to try a slightly different flavour from the normal rice, then it is worth it. This stall is very popular. The guy in front of me placed an order for thirty packs to `tapau'. As I enjoyed my meal, the clock approached lunch hour and the crowd started to form. Very good business.

Always give your best... no half-measures please

The following is a story I heard from the imam at the mosque after the zohor (mid-day) prayers earlier today. It touches on a theme which I have often heard but when presented with a fresh angle based on a supposedly true story, it makes it all the more interesting.

A medical student in a middle-eastern country and his professor were sitting down having tea one afternoon at a cafe. The  professor takes out a one-dinar (or whatever the unit of currency of that particular country) note and with a pen, starts to draw caricatures on the face of the country's leader shown on that note. The defaced portrait clearly indicated the lecturer's dislike for the leader.


He gives the note to the student and tells him that he can go buy anything with it.


`But this note is now worthless,' says the student. `It has been damaged. I can't buy anything with it.'


`Well... let's just try and see how ingenious you are,' the professor responds.


`Is there something to be learned from this?' the student asks.


`If you manage to part with this money by buying something, call me when the note makes its way back to you,' the professor replies.


They both leave the cafe and the student starts thinking on how he can use the defaced note to buy something. He decides to try at a fruit vendor. He buys six-dinar worth of fruits and hands over six one-dinar notes to the seller. Within the folded notes is the one with the defaced portrait. If the seller spots the worthless note, the student plans to pretend ignorance and replace it with another one.


The seller flicks through the folded notes and nods his okay. Phew, the student thought... my strategy works.


A month later, the student takes a taxi from the university back to his hostel. The fare is seven dinars. He hands over a 10-dinar note and slips the 3 dinar change the driver gives him straight into his shirt pocket.


Later that day, he prepares to wash his clothes and out comes three pieces of 1-dinar note from the shirt pocket. One of the three is the defaced note he had first given the fruit vendor. It has somehow made its way back to its starting point. The student remembers his professor's words and gave the senior man a call.


The lesson to be learnt here, says the professor, is that, whatever you do in life... one day you will get back the same in return. If you do slipshod work or put in half-hearted effort for others, the same will be done to you in the future. So, in anything that you do, please always do your best and with full sincerity.

Now... that indeed is a timely reminder to oneself.

There is no chemistry between us

Before readers get any wrong ideas, let me clarify that, no, I don't have any relationship problems. This post is a story about what happened a long time ago when I was in secondary school.

What reminded me of this story was a post around two weeks ago in fellow blogger Dr Sam's blog about his experiences when conducting experiments at school that later spurred his ambition to become a scientist. I dropped a comment in that post by telling about an incident I went through in Science class. I decided that I may as well share the story in this blog with some extension and correction.

The year was 1979 and I was in Form Five. Our Chemistry class was taught by a teacher whose name is Mr Wong Seng Kuang. I wasn't that particularly good in Chemistry. I seem to have a weakness in remembering chemical formulae and how many protons or electrons there are in the atom of any particular element. I have always preferred Biology because I find it interesting and easy to memorise facts about living things.

Mr Wong is a Sarawakian and speaks with a peculiar tone. Sometimes we find it hard to understand what he says. He has difficulty in pronouncing my name properly and every time he calls out to me, the girls in class would giggle. Despite this situation, I liked his Chemistry class and paid attention. In the end, when the MCE exam results came out, I scored better grades in Chemistry than Biology.

One day, Mr Wong gave the class an assignment. We were each asked to select a chemical compound but not let any of our other classmates know of our choice. We were then to exchange our compounds and carry out experiments on the sample given to us to determine what it is. Examples of such tests include lighting a bit of the stuff over the bunsen burner and see the colour of its flame, or checking its pH value to see if it is acid or alkali.

The next day, when we returned to class, all the girls were ready with their samples but I was the only guy out of 16 boys in the class who prepared a test specimen. Talk about being the odd one out. Either the rest of the guys misheard Mr Wong's instruction or simply did not like the subject of Chemistry as much as I did. Mr Wong was real displeased but he decided to proceed with the experiments with those of us who had come prepared.

There were nine girls in my class, and with me being the odd boy out, it made an even ten. Mr Wong drew lots and I ended up being paired with Yana, who is one of the prettiest girls in the class. I don't think I had ever spoken a word to her before that day. Come to think of it, I hardly spoke to most of my girl classmates those days (yeah, right! I hear you say).

Anyway, Yana and I exchanged samples and we proceed with our experiment. The compound that Yana gave me was a grainy white powder that looks very similar to common salt. I carried out the first test and confirmed that it was a type of chloride. It then crossed my mind that I should maybe skip the next proper step and just taste the stuff.... and so I did. Heck, it nearly burned my tongue! Definitely not common salt.

I quickly took a large gargle of water from the sink and spat it out. I wasn't sure if my lab partner had noticed it but if she did, she didn't ask me about it. And I was too embarrassed to tell her.

It was only towards the end of the year when I finally owned up by writing in her autograph book about it. I'm not sure if she found it silly or funny, or perhaps both.

And so nowadays, when it comes to testing chemical substances, I never take anymore shortcuts...

Bloggers, Books and a Bird's-eye View

It was quite a fun weekend for me the past two days. After working four straight weekends without a rest, I decided I'd better give myself a break. My operating system was near crashing point and was about to hang any moment. The problems at the worksite can sort themselves out.

I forgot about work for a while and went out to town to do simple but interesting stuff. To tell you about them, I have grouped the stories into three headings.

1. Bloggers

When I first started to write this blog three years ago, I wasn't sure if other bloggers would find it interesting enough for them to link me. I registered with the Blog Malaysia directory and started to read some of the other blogs to find ideas on how I could improve mine.

One of the earliest blogs I discovered in that directory belongs to the self-taught illustrator Emila Yusof. I am impressed with her artwork and became a regular commenter. Pretty soon, we linked our blogs and later became friends on FB as well. Emila's creativity comes in many forms. She produces her own greeting cards, handicraft items and also does blog headers for customers. She has now published her own picture-book for young readers. Her style of drawing is unique and distinctive and her popularity improved over the years, to the extent other people have `ciplak' her creations. Copyright infringement is never a good thing, but the fact that it has happened, shows some measure of her success.

When I was at MPH the previous Saturday for Awang Goneng's book signing, I took the chance to pick up a copy of Emila's book called My Mother's Garden. Since I have bought one book written by a blogger, why not get one written by another blogger, I thought. Emila's book would make a great present for my grandniece.

A few days later, Emila posted in her blog of a Picture Book event at Silverfish Books in Bangsar. Her book is part of the promotion ; purchase her book there and buyers would get a free set of flashcards. I commented that I have already bought a copy. She replied that if I turn up, she would give me the free cards anyway.

And so, two days ago I made the trip to Bangsar and met Emila for the first time in person. I asked her to sign the book for my grandniece who I'm sure will be thrilled to read the handwritten message by the book's author. Emila also graciously gave me a few notepads and greeting cards which feature her own drawings. Thank you my friend, for those gifts.

For two consecutive weeks, I had the good fortune of meeting blogger-friends in real-life. It is my hope that I can meet more such friends soon.

The picture book, flashcards, notepad and greeting cards

The author's message and signature

2. Books

Every year, when it comes to filing my tax returns at the end of April, I always regret that I have not purchased enough books to make use of the full deduction allowed by the taxman. The following month, I would go on a shopping binge to buy a few books to make full use of the allowance, but then I tend to forget about it towards the end of the year.

As I mentioned above, I bought Awang Goneng's and Emila's book at MPH. While I was browsing at Silverfish Books on Saturday, I picked up a few more. Over two weekends, I have purchased 6 books, enough reading material to last me the next two months.

Silverfish is a small privately-owned bookstore that sells a limited selection, especially titles seldom seen in the larger shops. But it has a reasonable section of books written by local authors. One of those that I bought is a book written by Brian Gomez called Devil's Place. I have never heard of the book or its author before but I decided to buy it after randomly opening a page and reading a few passages. It was a correct decision.

Devil's Place is, or more exactly was, a thrilling read. Yes, I have finished reading it (in two sittings). It is a fiction novel about terrorism, crime and conspiracy set entirely in Kuala Lumpur, but you'd be surprised how the author has included international elements to spice things up. But what makes the book terribly exciting is Gomez's use of local settings and cultural colour to tell his story. His style of writing is crisp and snappy. The text is gross and vulgar but exceedingly funny in most parts. Sometimes you are left wondering if the events he wrote about can actually happen here in Malaysia... but upon pondering about it a bit more, you'll think... heck, kenapa tak boleh?

I had initially thought of writing a book review about it but later changed my mind. Suffice to give you a brief summary, I guess. Makes a refreshing change from reading all those western-based crime thrillers.

First-time effort by Brian Gomez

3. Bird's-eye View

I was actually at Borders bookstore at The Gardens Mid-Valley on Sunday to meet up again with Awang Goneng. The purpose this time was to have the author sign another copy of AMoT specially for blogger-friend Pak Zawi, who lives in Kelantan. Pak Zawi plans to come down to KL later this month but by that time Pak Awang would've returned back to London. I thought I could do Pak Zawi a favour by getting the book signed first and handing it over to him later. It gives me good reason to be able to meet another blogosphere friend in person.

After Borders, I drove to the airfield at Sungai Besi to meet up with an old friend and former classmate for a flight over Kuala Lumpur city in a Cessna airplane. My friend, Captain Norhisham Kassim, is a commercial airline pilot who occasionally flies small aircraft for leisure. He had previously offered to take me flying but the timing was always not right. This time around, I didn't want to miss the chance.

It was the experience of a lifetime. We flew over KL at around 1,500 feet, headed out towards the old Subang airport where he did a touch-n-go, and flew back to Sungai Besi. The view of the KL skyscrapers from way up there is indescribable. The weather was a bit hazy but I did manage to capture a few good shots with my camera.

Thanks Captain, for a wonderful afternoon yesterday.

The Cessna aircraft that we flew in

View of KL city centre from high up

The pilot and his passenger

Never buy things on impulse...

I am sure most of us have heard of this sound advice. More often, it is the men who utter these words to their spouses than the other way round. But a few days ago, the tables were turned on yours truly. After all these years, I would have thought that I am now smart enough in deciding on things that I need to buy. Apparently, I do still make dumb decisions sometimes.

So what was the object of my unwise purchase? The humble ironing board.

A few weeks ago, the missus asked me to buy an ironing board. To the uninitiated, the seemingly simple ironing board actually comes in a few variants carrying differing price tags. I first surveyed the item at Jusco and was surprised that they sell the top-range ones at prices above RM80. My next stop was at Giant. The ones sold there are probably the mid-range ones selling at around RM50. I deferred from buying, thinking that I should look some more at some other stores.

Then one day, I was shopping for groceries at the new My Mydin Mart and spotted a board with a dirt cheap price tag of only RM19.90. The board was the last one left and was wrapped in clear plastic so I didn't check it's quality. Anyway, how much different can one ironing board be from another... or so I thought. I simply grabbed it and paid for it along with my groceries.

When I reach home, the thing was put to one side and left in its wrapping for a few more days until the wife wanted to use it. I tore open the plastic wrap to set the board up. Immediately I realised that it is of very poor quality. The clip for the adjustable legs on the underside of the board is flimsy and the legs are uneven. I had to insert a folded cardboard under one of the legs to reduce the wobbling. Even the metal side rack where we place the iron is made from thin wire frame.

I was already grumbling loudly to myself but the missus was smiling happily because she knew she can't be blamed for this one.

She proceeded to do some ironing but had to be extra careful because of the shaky setup. On completing the task, as if on cue, the board collapsed.... causing the hot iron to fall on the floor with a loud clang. Luckily the missus was not hurt. Lucky for us too that the iron was not damaged. I checked the board for the cause of the collapse. It seems that the part of the leg that attaches to the clip somehow slipped out. I continued to grumble... and wife added fuel to the fire by quoting that well-known Malay proverb, alah membeli, menang memakai.

I decided there and then that I will buy a new and better ironing board. So what's going to happen to the one that I have now? I have already re-wrapped the thing in cling plastic and plan to put it the garbage house downstairs. Hopefully one of the cleaner ladies will salvage it and put it to good use... and not hurt herself in the process.

So remember guys... do not buy things on impulse.

The GUiT feeling... and running AMoT...

Author and blogger Sdra Wan A Hulaimi or better known as Awang Goneng is in town to promote his latest book, `A Map of Trengganu'. When I first saw the event notice on blogger Kak Teh's FB wall about the book signing at MPH Mid Valley, I thought I must try grab the chance to meet the writer in person. After all, he is based in London and who knows when he'll be coming over again. Furthermore, the man has previously popped over to this humble blog of mine and dropped a comment or two.

It was actually a working day for me that Saturday 30th April 2011. I thought of leaving the project site early after briefing my staff on work that needs to be done for the day but could only manage to free myself past lunchtime. It was already 3.30pm when I left the workplace at Sg Besi. According to the notice, the book signing is fixed for one hour only, ending at 4pm. I could probably drive and reach Mid Valley in time if the traffic is light (which it seldom is) but finding a parking space at that shopping mall on weekends will take me ages. Suddenly it occurred to me that there is a KTM Komuter train line nearby that goes directly to Mid Valley. A quick change of plans saw me parking my car at Bandar Tasik Selatan station (RM3 per entry charge), pay a single ringgit ticket for one-way trip and riding a trouble-free train journey. A total cost of only RM5 both ways that solves a lot of headache.

Even so, I only alighted at the Mid Valley station at ten past four and I thought I had missed my chance of meeting Awang Goneng in person. I made a brisk walk among the weekend shopping crowd to get to MPH, which took up another 5 minutes, hoping the author would still be there. I needn't have worried. On reaching the bookstore, there was still a long line of fans queueing up for the writer's autograph.

I picked a copy of the author's book and quickly joined the queue. When my turn came, I introduced myself as Oldstock. Pak Awang was a bit surprised because he said that he didn't think I looked that old. He noted my sweaty palms as I handed him the book for signing. I explained that I was rushing from the train station because I thought I was late. He then said that if I had missed the MPH event, I can catch him again at Borders next week.

I have already read Pak Awang's first book `Growing Up in Trengganu' which I bought a few years ago. But I decided to buy another copy that day just so I can have it signed by the author. I now have both GUiT and AMoT personally autographed by Awang Goneng. Something to treasure for years to come.

Pak Awang signing a copy for Oldstock

Kak Teh aka Mrs Awang Goneng

My current reading material

Thank you Pak Awang for this signed copy

Billy and Kate get hitched

Pic borrowed from The Telegraph

So William of Windsor and Catherine of Middleton tied the knot yesterday huh? I am totally out of the loop in this matter. Didn't catch it on the telly nor read about it in the online news pages... until a few minutes ago.

Anyway, the just concluded royal wedding in London reminded of the time when William's parents got married in July of 1981... really doesn't feel like that long a time ago. I was into my second year of life in the UK as a student. Charles was getting married to Diana although most people know his heart was somewhere else. Diana was the darling of the press and all the other loyal British subjects. It was the wedding of the century... I did not watch yesterday's event so I can't comment if the son's wedding is as grand as his parents.

Princess Diana performed her role splendidly during her initial years of being the next possible queen of England. She did a lot of charity work and handled publicity quite well. When news got out that she was pregnant, the whole nation was excited. As she neared the time of giving birth and scan results indicate a boy, bookmakers were taking bets on what the name of the new prince would be. `Henry', `Richard' and `William' quickly became the leading favourites, being names of past English kings. Just as an aside, the bookies in UK are willing to accept your wager on almost anything, not just the normal sports events. They even have a respectable name for the bookies taking bets on horse-racing... turf accountants, they are called. No doubt these guys make more money than the chartered accountants who are hired to prepare company accounts.

Ok, back to the first son of Diana... I remember very well on how I got to know which name was chosen. I was walking back from the supermarket and saw it written on the evening newspaper billboard. A simple blurb saying, `Prince Billy!'

And now, 28 years has passed us by. Diana has left us for good quite some time back. Kate Middleton, a common English lass, has married her prince charming.... probably a fairy tale dream she never realised would ever come true. Hopefully, the new Duke and Duchess of Cambridge reach the part of `... and they lived happily ever after', perhaps erasing the sad memories of what happened to the Prince and Princess of Wales.

Another sign of growing old

I prepare to go to work this morning. I start my car and waited a while for the engine to warm up. A call came in my mobile phone. I answered the call and spoke for a few minutes.

On completing the call, I put my car in gear and drove off. The engine felt heavy and sluggish. Laa... meragam lagi kereta aku ni. I just had the car serviced last week. Be prepared to spend more money, I thought.

I reach my workplace. I park the car and was about to pull the handbrake. Ooops! The handbrake is already in the up position. I have been driving with the handbrake on all this while. Aduh....

Lost in translation

I recently switched to using Google Chrome as my default online browser a few weeks ago after having used Firefox for a number of years. I initially tried Chrome for a while but switched back to Firefox because I hated re-learning new steps. But then a friend mentioned that Chrome is faster so I tried it again... and indeed it is so.

I then noticed that a pop-up dialog box keep coming up whenever the browser detects that the page I am viewing is not in English. Apparently Google has included an auto-translator function. I didn't find the pop-up particularly bothersome and it never crossed my mind to give it a try... until a few days ago, when I wrote the previous story of the tembusu tree in Malay.

Out of curiosity, I clicked the `translate' button, just to see how good Google's translation skill is... and I had a good laugh! Sorry, no intention of mocking Google's effort but reading the whole post again in translated English gives the impression that it was written by someone who did not finish grade school. I'd be very ashamed of myself if it had been my actual work.

Having been involved in real-life translating work myself, I can confirm that translating written text from one language to another is not easy by any means. To be able to produce a good result, you need to be in top command of both languages, meaning not only having knowledge of the rules of grammar but of context as well. This is where present-day software is not yet able to match the human brain.

To give you an example, the following is a sentence, in Bahasa Melayu from the previous post :
Anak-anak murid kelas tuisyen ini seramai 6 orang, 4 lelaki dan 2 perempuan.

The auto-translator's version is :
Children's tuition for pupils of this group of 6 people, 4 men and 2 women.

Ignoring even the wrong sentence structure, the proper translation for `lelaki' and `perempuan' is `boys' and `girls' respectively.

So, for readers of this blog who do not understand Malay but wish to know what I wrote about, go ahead and use the auto-translator but please allow a (very) wide berth in discrepancy.

Having said that, the auto-translator is not entirely useless. I find it convenient to get the meanings of words not written in the Roman script, say for example Japanese or Russian. In this respect, I cannot fault Google for giving it a try. Perhaps one day there would be a brilliant software engineer who is able to incorporate context, style, inference and nuances in translator applications.

Pohon Tembusu

Setelah beberapa tahun bekerja sebagai seorang guru di sebuah sekolah di bandaraya, saya akhirnya dapat bertukar ke sekolah yang tidak jauh dari kampung saya. Memang sudah lama saya berhasrat untuk berpindah balik ke kampung. Anak-anak saya semuanya sudah dewasa dan mempunyai kerjaya mereka sendiri. Suasana aman dan tenteram di kampung sangat saya rindui. Lebih-lebih lagi saya masih ada ibu tua yang tinggal keseorangan, jadi memang eloklah saya mohon pertukaran tempat bertugas itu.

Sebelum berpindah, saya sempat membina sebuah rumah baru di atas sebidang tanah yang tidak jauh dari rumah ibu saya. Tanah tersebut asalnya sebuah dusun kecil dan sebahagiannya ditumbuhi hutan belukar. Banyak juga wang yang saya perlu modalkan untuk membersihkan tapak tanah itu jadi saya buat yang mana perlu sahaja dulu. Antara yang tidak ditebang ialah sebatang pokok tembusu yang tumbuh hampir dengan sempadan tanah. Pohon tembusu itu tersangatlah besar. Tingginya saya anggar melebihi 30 meter dan mungkin berumur beratus tahun. Memang memakan masa hendak menebangnya. Lagipun kedudukannya tidak menghalang pembinaan rumah, jadi kami buat keputusan untuk membiarkannya dahulu.

Beberapa bulan pertama saya duduk di rumah baru itu dengan gembiranya. Jiran-jiran sekeliling kebanyakan adalah saudara mara saya juga. Sekolah tempat saya mengajar tidak jauh dari rumah. Tidaklah lagi perlu saya mengharungi trafik jem setiap hari pergi bertugas.

Atas permintaan beberapa orang saudara mara, saya bersetuju untuk mengajar tuisyen kepada anak-anak mereka, kiranya anak-anak buah saya juga lah. Kelas tuisyen dibuat di rumah saya dan bermula pada 8.30 malam. Anak-anak murid kelas tuisyen ini seramai 6 orang, 4 lelaki dan 2 perempuan.

Semasa mula-mula mengajar mereka memang problematic sikit. Jelas sekali pendedahan sistem pembelajaran kanak-kanak di desa jauh berbeza dengan kanak-kanak bandar. Tambahan pula, yang budak-budak lelaki empat orang itu nakal-nakal belaka. Tetapi disebabkan semangat hendak menolong saudara, saya teruskan usaha untuk mendidik mereka.

Setiap malam bila tiba waktu kelas tuisyen bermula, saya boleh tahu ketibaan kumpulan murid ini dengan bunyi riuh rendah mereka bila sampai di hadapan pintu pagar rumah. Bunyi kelentang-kelentung gate dibuka disusuli dengan sorak ketawa budak-budak berlari dari pintu pagar itu yang jaraknya lebih kurang 20 meter dari rumah. Suara ketawa biasanya dari budak-budak lelaki sahaja. Yang perempuan bunyi marah atau geram. Setiap kali sampai di rumah mesti semuanya termengah-mengah.

Saya pun bertanya, mengapa mesti berlari.

Salah seorang dari yang perempuan menjawab, `Diaorang ni Cikgu (sambil menunjuk ke arah budak-budak lelaki), suka nyakat kami! Diaorang kata ada hantu tinggal kat atas pokok besar tu. Siapa yang last sampai kat rumah Cikgu nanti kena cekup. Tu yang kami lari laju-laju!’ Pokok yang dimaksudkan itu ialah pohon tembusu besar yang terletak betul-betul sebelah pagar pintu masuk.

`Hish, mana ada!,’ saya berkata. Sambil menoleh ke arah seorang budak lelaki yang saya anggap sebagai kepala, saya cakap, `Abu! Tak elok kamu takutkan kawan-kawan kamu. Jangan buat macam ni lagi.’ Abu hanya menunjukkan muka selamba. Yang budak-budak lelaki lain tersengih-sengih.

Marahlah macam mana pun, perkara yang sama tetap berlaku. Maka kelas tuisyen saya setiap kali dimulakan dengan senaman larian dari pintu pagar hingga ke rumah.

Sehinggalah satu hari beberapa minggu kemudian…

Murid-murid saya sampai ke rumah malam itu dengan keadaan tertib dan senyap. Saya teramat pelik. Tiada bunyi riuh dan berlari-lari sebagaimana biasa. Pada mulanya saya tidak bertanya apa-apa. Semasa mengajar pun kesemuanya senyap dan menumpukan perhatian terhadap apa yang saya ajar. Abu, yang selalu paling bising dalam kelas, pun kelihatan begitu tekun.

Tidak boleh menahan kehairanan saya lagi, saya pun bertanya, `Eh Abu, kenapa kamu senyap je malam ni? Selalunya tak habis-habis menyakat orang…’

`Heheh… takde apa-apa Cikgu,’ jawab Abu. Dia terus menunduk untuk menyiapkan latihan yang telah saya beri.

Saya pun duduk sebelah murid perempuan bernama Atikah dan bertanya, `Kenapa semua orang diam dan rajin je hari ni?’

Atikah merenung ke muka saya dengan keadaan serba salah. Setelah beberapa ketika, dia berbisik kepada saya.

`Cikgu… tadi ada orang dah marah kat kami. Suruh belajar rajin-rajin dan jangan main-main.’

`Orang mana?’ saya bertanya.

`Orang yang tinggal kat pokok besar tu,’ jawab Atikah.

`Orang tu rupanya macam mana?’ saya bertanya lagi.

Wajah Atikah berubah jadi keliru. `Tu Cikgu, dia duduk kat belakang Abu tu. Dia ikut kami dari depan gate tadi. Cikgu tak nampak ke?’

Giliran saya pula untuk menjadi cemas. Memang saya tidak nampak sesiapa di belakang Abu. Saya berbisik kembali, `Dia masih kat situ?’

`Ada, Cikgu…’

Saya pun membuat keputusan untuk menamatkan sesi pembelajaran malam itu dan memberitahu anak-anak murid saya, `Err… malam ni kelas tuisyen kita tamat cepat sikit. Cikgu pun rasanya nak tidur kat rumah sepupu Cikgu kat sebelah tu. Kamu semua jangan balik dulu ye. Temankan Cikgu sampai sana…’

Nota kaki : Cerita di atas adalah berdasarkan kisah benar... cuma identiti watak-watak telah diubah untuk memelihara yang berkenaan.

Automated banking services

Nowadays, we are so used to using machines for our daily banking transactions that we ignore the fact the first ATM was invented and came into service before most of us were even born. The Automated Teller Machine was invented by a Scotsman named John Shepherd-Barron who thought of the idea after being locked out of his bank. The first cash dispensing machine was made available to customers by Barclays Bank at their branch in Enfield town in England in 1967.

After the ATMs, banks offered us other machines to help us do transactions without the need to approach the counter. Someone came up with the brilliant idea that since we have a machine that spits out cash, why not have a machine that swallows it? Hence the Cash Deposit Machine or CDM. But why just stop at cash? We now have the cheque deposit machine too.

The convenience of having such machines is plainly obvious. I am now able to do the most routine of my banking needs outside office hours when parking would be much easier (have you noticed that bank branches are always located where parking is notoriously so difficult?). The flip side of this is I seldom get to meet the human bank tellers anymore and somewhat miss the personal interaction of such occasions. I can assure you there are quite a number of sweet and helpful lady tellers out there...

I was attempting to make a cash deposit at a machine last night when I realised that I am a customer of most of the major banks in Malaysia. I say `attempting' because the machines at this particular bank were out of service. This is where the performance of such machines differentiates the level of service from one bank to another. For the past few months, making a loan repayment via their CDM has been quite a chore because the machines have difficulty in accepting legitimate new notes, especially the RM50 ones. I have sent feedback via their website earlier this morning. Let's see if they reply within the 2 working days as stated.

Ok then.... before readers get any wrong ideas, I must clarify that being a customer of so many banks does NOT mean I have tons of money. Some are savings accounts while others are loan accounts and credit cards. In fact, I owe the banks more money than what I have kept with them. How I wish it can be the other way round.

Madu Tiga

Three fruit juice drinks...

Madu itu manis... tetapi bermadu itu pahit.

The beauty of this somewhat controversial Malay phrase is in its subtle reference to the connection between something that can be both sweet and bitter. In all likelihood, it was a woman who first uttered these words, perhaps someone on the unfavourable end of a marital relationship.

`Madu' here of course refers to honey, while the `bermadu' part is the situation where a man is married to more than one wife. It has long puzzled me how the tasty product of bees can lend its name to polygamy. The virtues and healing properties of honey is well-known. Even the holy Al-Quran mentions this fact. On the other hand, stories of bitter polygamous marriages far outscore those of the `happily-ever-after' kind... at least the ones that I have personally heard anyway.

It may be interesting to note that in English-speaking regions, the word `honey' is also used as a term of endearment that one would call one's spouse or sweetheart. Alas, its Malay equivalent does not normally carry the same tone of affection.

Malay men, especially those of a certain age-group, can talk about this subject of bermadu for hours on end, without the slightest feeling of boredom or fatigue. Some purposely speak about it in front of their wives, either in jest or with hidden intentions. But based on my observations, those who openly talk about it, rarely actually do it. Mostly it is the silent and innocent-looking men who are the crafty ones.

The movie Madu Tiga is one of the more famous film by the late P. Ramlee. It tells the story of a certain En. Jamil who manages to marry three women, initially without any wife knowing about the other two. Such a scenario is practically impossible in present-day situation... but if there is such a man who can do it, then I tip my hat to him.

Okay then... lest I incur the wrath of my lady friends, I'll end this post by telling that Just Observations is 3-years old today. Thank you to all friends, readers and commenters for keeping me company.

Interlude #2/2011

I've got nothing much to write about... so here's the second interlude for the year, a subject close to my heart...

UNDERSTANDING ENGINEERS - Take One

Two engineering students were walking across the campus when one said, "Where did you get such a great bike?"

The second engineer replied, "Well, I was walking along yesterday minding my own business when a beautiful woman rode up on this bike. She threw the bike to the ground, took off all her clothes and said, "Take what you want."

The second engineer nodded approvingly, "Good choice; the clothes probably wouldn't have fit."
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UNDERSTANDING ENGINEERS - Take Two

To the optimist, the glass is half full. To the pessimist, the glass is half empty. To the engineer, the glass is twice as big as it needs to be.
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UNDERSTANDING ENGINEERS - Take Three

A priest, a doctor and an engineer were waiting one morning for a particularly slow group of golfers. The engineer fumed, "What's with these people? We've been waiting for 15 minutes!"

The doctor chimed in, "I don't know, but I've never seen such ineptitude!"

The priest said, "Hey, here comes the green keeper. Let's have a word with him."

"Hi George, what's the matter with that group ahead of us? They're rather slow, aren't they?"

The green keeper replied, "Oh, yes, that's a group of blind fire-fighters. They lost their sight saving our clubhouse from a fire last year, so we always let them play for free anytime."

The group was silent for a moment. Then the priest said, "That's so sad. I think I will say a special prayer for them tonight."

The doctor said, "Good idea. And I'm going to contact my ophthalmologist friend and see if there is anything he can do for them."

The engineer said, "Why can't they play at night?"

There's more where that came from (up to Take Eight)... but let's stop at three first. Credit to samshik@cari.com.my, who I'm sure got it from somewhere too..

Moving out...

Let's start with another of my well-worn excuse on why postings in this blog has been a bit sparse of late... of course the standard one being - very, very busy! The non-standard reason is that I have been on a house-hunting mission over the past few weekends because the lease to the place I'm renting now is expiring and I want to move to a cheaper unit. My current economic situation does not permit me to continue staying at the present apartment in Wangsa Maju although I like the environment quite a lot.

During the limited free time that I had, I browsed around the areas of Ampang, Pandan and Cheras to look for something within my budget. Nothing suitable was found until a chance search online indicated a vacancy at a new apartment unit in Bukit Jalil. I called the owner for a viewing appointment but he said he was driving and would call me back. After a whole day of waiting, the return call never came. The next day, I ran a google search of the apartment's location and made a trip there just to try my luck.

I located the place easy enough and politely asked the security guard at the entrance gate if he knew of any owners who want to rent out their units. He suggested I ask the maintenance office, which I did. As luck would have it, I met a staff who's acting on behalf of an owner who has a unit for rent. I had a look at the place, asked about the rental rate and decided there and then to close the deal.

It was a tiring day of moving stuff from the old place to the new place yesterday. The new place is of course very much smaller and has less facilities... but it still has a view of KLCC, albeit at a much greater distance. Cannot compare to the view from the previous place but I'm not complaining.

View from the old place on midnite of the new year...

A recipe book from the past

40-year old recipe book

I was at my sister-in-law's place earlier today and came across an old recipe book which she bought in the early 70's. The book is titled `Medan Selera' and was written by the late Haji Ahmad Bin Yaakub.

When I say `old', I mean real old... the text is in `ejaan lama'. For those of you young readers out there, if you don't understand what is meant by ejaan lama, go ask your mother. Even the measurements for the ingredients uses terms that are no longer in use. Try going to the market and ask to buy a kati of fish... and you'll probably get a laugh from the fishmonger.

Medan Selera was one of the very early compilation of recipes in book form. Haji Ahmad originally wrote his compilation in Jawi script in 1958. This romanised edition was first published in 1971, after the author's demise. It became a popular reference book amongst the ladies at that time. It contains recipes for most of the traditional dishes that Johor is famous for... nasi beriani (spelt as buryani in the book), laksa Johor and botok-botok. Surprisingly, the author had also included recipes for some western and Japanese dishes too. There is actually a recipe for mutton chops... which just goes to show that our tastebuds were already quite varied back then. It is also claimed that Haji Ahmad was the one who first used the Italian spaghetti in laksa Johor.

So how heavy is a kati in today's terms?

I only had a short time to browse through the book. No way my sis-in-law is letting me go home with her precious possession. I had an amusing time reading some of the archaic terms, measurements and ingredients. A tablespoon was known as chamcha besar. The smallest unit of weight was the tahil. Rice was measured in chupak. Then there is this ingredient in laksa Johor called sajira... I've never heard of it. My sis-in-law says it is a kind of spice.

Tembosa, a.k.a epok-epok

I did manage to find printed evidence about an issue that was recently discussed by some old school friends. The Malay kuih that the rest of Malaysia calls as karipap, is known as tembosa to us Johoreans. The filling for tembosa is the 156th recipe in the book.

A teacher from my old school who is a descendant of Haji Ahmad Bin Yaakub, is presently making efforts to re-publish this book in modern form. I look forward to owning a copy when it comes out in print. Then maybe I can try cook the original version of the famous Beriani Gam.