Is A Twin Cab Necessary?

On my way home from Keningau this afternoon, I snapped some photos of cars parked on islands in the middle of the road. This was near the KDCA (Kadazan Dusun Cultural Association) - the venue for the Kaamatan Festival (Harvest Festival). Due to the lack of carparks nearby, people just made use of any available space.

When I saw this last year, I told myself that I need a twin cab soon. But as can be seen in the photo above, even little cars like this Perodua (on the right) was capable of doing such a thing. LOL. Who needs a Toyota Hilux then? 

Note: This is my first post with photos on this blog!

A Year On

My Dad passed away at around 6:55 pm on this day last year. He had been struggling all day. The priest and the relatives came during the day. As for the friends who couldn’t make it because they live far away, they spoke to him on the phone. Even my X spoke to him. The X was the last person to speak to him on the phone. A couple of ladies and my Mum sang hymns to my Dad. He looked peaceful. It was like he was enjoying the whole moment. After the ladies left, a distant relative from my Mum’s side came to visit and it was then that my Dad passed away.

I didn’t cry when my Dad died. I didn’t cry at the funeral home when my Dad was ‘on display’ for a few days. Neither did I cry during the funeral. I was bewildered by the whole experience. I was also waiting. I totally believed that the X would be in Sabah soon and I would cry my head off in his presence. He wasn’t an X at the time. He only became the X in September.

A year on and I still haven’t cried. I don’t think that I have properly grieved. After the abandonment, I was just coping with my life here. During my Dad’s funeral, I felt terrible for my Mum. My parents have been together for a long time. They have been a team for such a long time. I even wondered what it would be like if I no longer have a partner. That was a scary thought that came true months later.

This morning, Father Felix Chung said Mass for my Dad at the little Carmelite Chapel. I have been to this place when I was little. The last time I was there for Mass was nearly 20 years ago when I was back for a visit. My Mum’s helper lit a candle for Mary and baby Jesus. I was too shy to do so when I saw the small crowd after the Mass. We then visited my Dad’s grave before tucking in to some Dim Sum at my Dad’s favourite Yum Cha joint – Foo Ping (Sorry, the spelling could be wrong).

Decisions, Decisions

My Mum recently hinted (somewhat strongly) that maybe I should return to University to improve my career prospects. I think that she believes that it will be a piece of cake for me. According to what I heard, my Mum apparently missed out on attending University because she was a girl. I was given plenty of opportunities and at one point, there was even a scholarship dangling in front of my face, I made the stupid mistake of not completing my studies because I was pre-occupied with something else. Now, I am old and lacking that piece of paper, an Undergraduate Degree, to help me get going. It is a sad reality that I need a piece of paper issued by a University to get around.

I work as a dish pig. My workday usually starts at around 8:00 am and ends around 6:00 pm. The shift is longer on some days. When I get home, there are a few minor chores that I have to attend to before anything else. Evenings are usually spent in the living room so I look ‘sociable’ and not tucked in my bedroom until it is really bedtime. 10:00 pm is usually my bedtime. The question that comes to mind is how do I fit my studies in if I do University? I can’t see myself studying in the living room in the evenings because the commotion will be 100% distracting. My Mum and her helper watch a lot of TV with the volume on full blast.

University is a big commitment. If I sign up again, I would dearly like to complete it this time but how can I do it? The scene at home is constantly changing. People may be supportive at the time I sign up to a course but may change periodically to ‘make things interesting’. If I am seen to get extra leeway, someone might turn the tide against me temporarily and I am likely to be affected by that. I am nearly 40 and at my age, I should have been contributing to this family for nearly 30 years. So, I shouldn’t be seen slacking by studying. In the eyes of some people, attempting University at my age is just plain childish. If a young person attending University full time is afforded time and space to work on it, shouldn’t an older person be entitled to that as well?

At this stage, I simply don’t trust the people around me to make the move to apply. I know that there are many hurdles in life but people sometimes invent hurdles for others just for the fun of it and that is what I fear most. Things might be different if I could move out. At my own place, I can work on my studies anyway I like. I could skip a meal to complete an assignment without my Mum freaking out or offending the person that cooks the dinner. I could work past 10: 00 pm without distracting others who are heading to bed at that time. I could work away without looking like I am anti-social for not accompanying my Mum in the evenings. Unfortunately, I couldn’t afford to move out as a dish pig. I am just not making enough dough. I could do more work but if I do that then I won’t have many hours left to do University. There are only 24 hours in a day.   

Getting Closer to 40

Today is my birthday. I am working but I think I will get to dine at the English Tea House or some other joint tonight. I love the English Tea House but I feel like something Italian – tomatoey and cheesy. It has been a long time since I ate any pasta dishes. I did eat a generous helping of lasagne in KL, before Christmas. But that was almost half a year ago.

It was nearly a year ago that I came back to Sabah. I touched down on the 20^th of May, 2011. It has been one mighty roller coaster ride that I am not wishing to hop on again. I came home to see my Dad who was fighting cancer. At that stage, he wasn’t really fighting; it felt more like he was surrendering to whatever that was coming. After my Dad’s passing, I began to enjoy my family’s hospitality/attention even though technically, we were still in mourning. I was even planning for a wedding! Things soured though and by mid September, I was dumped unceremoniously.

By the end of the year, I began to experience a change that I would never wish on anyone. As news spread, I became the rejected and used product that I am now. I actually found this more painful than when two doctors told me that I was in very bad shape. The health problems immediately ended my chance to work in KL. When I got better, the job was no longer there. After Chinese New Year, I was deemed fit enough to work as a Dish Pig and there, I stayed.

Recently, I read the birthday post of an ambitious Sabahan blogger. He listed 26 things he had done when he was 26. His list was quite impressive. May be I should get a move on and start doing a long list of things for when I write my birthday post next year. Since I am a lot older than that blogger, my list of things to do would be quite long! One thing that I really wish to accomplish is to use Asian style toilets like a pro. It is not because I aim poorly but I still get an ‘F’ for that right now because I simply can’t perform, full stop. I also wish that the reverse culture shock experiences will start to dwindle over time.

Is He The Fred Hollows of Sabah?

My Mum’s helper requested to have her eyes checked in early December last year. I was about to head off to a splendid job in KL when my Mum booked me in to see Dr Peter Kong as well. I didn’t expect any bad news even though the last time I had my eyes checked was a few years ago. All I had wanted was a pair of new glasses and/or a pair of blue contacts for Christmas. It was not to be. I was sent by the ophthalmologist to a GP (General Practitioner) with the same surname because my blood pressure was through the roof!

We found out soon enough that I was in real bad shape. Dr Kong – GP from Damai told me that I was a flight risk and I ended up kissing that new job goodbye. Once my blood pressure came down quite a bit, I returned to Dr Peter Kong who then told me that I needed laser surgery (PRP) to save my sight. I didn’t take him seriously because I really didn’t believe that there was anything seriously wrong with me. My Mum, on the other hand, took the news almost too seriously. She had many sleepless nights afterwards. At one stage during the second consultation, Dr Peter Kong took out his stethoscope to listen to my heart. That was quite funny because I have never seen an ophthalmologist using a stethoscope. I told him, “I am pretty sure that the ticker is still ticking.” Before I walked out, he asked me to prepare myself psychologically for the procedure.

Not knowing what PRP was, I began to imagine all sorts of horrible scenarios. I even thought that it had something to do with Karma because I once said something quite mean to a Paralympian with vision impairment. I was pretty scared that something might go wrong and I ended up blind in Sabah! Imagine being disabled in Malaysia! I ended up googling PRP to learn a bit more and prayed nightly. We even went to the Carmelite sisters to ask them to pray for me. I was calm and ready on the eve of the first treatment.

Originally, I was expected to undergo the procedure three times because I am a squeamish patient. The doctor changed his mind after the first treatment because I was super. I was able to see clearer two days later but I also noticed that I had become a little ‘slow’. I was quite sensitive to changes to light. Two weeks after the first procedure, I was back at the little ‘torture chamber’ and sat on the same little stool for my last session. I rest my chin on the machine. The doctor secured my head with straps, placed that eye piece thingy into one eye before blasting me with strong beams from his side of the ‘machine gun’. It did get a little unpleasant at times but I was OK. After a little while, my mind wandered off. I was wondering if anyone could make the whole process more interesting by turning it into some kind of video game when the Doctor asked me to open my eye. I truly thought that my left eye was open but it wasn’t! Did I fall asleep? Is it possible? LOL

During the first procedure, Dr Kong asked me, “Do you like living in Sabah?” I replied flatly, “No!” It was a childish response. Yes, there are many things that I do not like right now but I think that I will accept the differences in time to come. I just need time to love my ‘new’ life. It is so different to over there. Altruism was one principle that I thought was dead because everyone is just so busy trying to make a living but Dr Kong showed me that altruism is still alive! A week after my final procedure, a receptionist from his clinic called to ask us to cancel the check. She was speaking in Malay and I got quite confused. My Mum later confirmed that we didn’t need to pay. The whole thing was FREE. I felt weird receiving such a gift. I wondered whether my Mum secretly told him about what happened to me and he pitied me. I wondered for many weeks as to why I was the recipient of such an expensive gift.

Dr Peter Kong is the ophthalmologist to many members of my extended family. My father was his patient. My Mum is too. My Mum’s cousin in Melbourne even flies here to see him even though he has access to Aussie doctors. When you wait at his waiting room, you will hear that many of his patients are from Sandakan. Sometimes they come straight from the airport with luggage in tow.

Fred Hollows was a famous ophthalmologist who restored the sight of countless people. There is something that Fred said in the ads for The Fred Hollows Foundation that I really like. “Every eye is an eye, when you are doing the surgery there that is just as important as if you were doing eye surgery on the prime minister or the king.”

Update: I recently went to see Doctor Kong for a follow up. He was extremely busy that day. He gave me the good news because my eyes have healed. My next appointment will be in October.

Rest In Peace, Little One

4 years ago today, my precious little Guinea Pig passed away in the morning. He was with us for nearly 5 years and died after getting ill. I still miss him everyday. I hope that he is happy in heaven.

Go Get a Life, Mr. C

When I was last at Sunny Supermarket, I bought a sample pack of Friskies brand by Purina cat food. The idea was to use it as snack food to play with the cats at the school where I work as a dishwasher (dish pig). I started feeding the cat last week. In total, including today (Wednesday 02/05), I have fed that cat thrice. I could only feed the cat a small handful at a time. Sadly though, today was to be my last time.

It is an offence to feed the cats. I didn’t know about the law and was told off like a little 4 year old caught burning down her Kindergarten. Mr. C spoke to me in a very condescending style, like I was having trouble understanding him. I wasn’t struggling to understand his language, but the logic behind his argument. He told me off for feeding the cat outside the ‘food court’ and warned me to not do it again. If I feed the cat again the entire food court would be shut down by the health department.   Well Mr. C, I have a couple of issues with the way you addressed me.

First off Mr. C, there is no need to speak to me in such a tone. Was it because I am a lowly dish pig that you thought it was alright to speak to me in such a tone? Second point Mr. C, there is no need to go to that extreme with me. I would have stopped if you have spoken to me politely. I am not there to challenge you. Frankly speaking, I can’t be bothered challenging this school and its extreme ways of handling things. Yeah I know that quote, “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.” I am just going to play my role as a lowly dish pig whose ideas and comments will never be respected by the likes of you.

I assume Mr. C’s idea of getting rid of the cats is through starvation. Where is his compassion and respect for God’s creatures? Oh, Mr. C might not be a Christian because he doesn’t have a Christian name. Ok, he could be a Buddhist. Well, when I went to listen to the Dalai Lama in 1995, he was really into compassion. So, where is it, Mr. C? Does he think by starving the kittens, the adult cats would practice safe sex in the future to keep their population under control? If the school seriously wishes to get rid of the cats, they could have contacted the authorities to come and collect them. Gassing the cats is a more humane way of disposing them than to starve them.

Deng Xiao Ping once said, “不管白猫、黑猫，逮住老鼠就是好猫。” Is it a surprise or what that someone lowly like me knows a little Chinese history? Does anyone remember the campaign to kill sparrows during the Mao era? What happened was that the locust population went out of control without the sparrows there to control them.  The same thing applies to the cats and the rat population.  Shouldn’t the school be thankful that the cats are doing such a splendid job keeping the rat population under control? Wouldn’t that be yet another successful story about the school?

The school is probably worried also about litigation issues in case one of the precious students gets Toxoplasmosis. Now, that would be scary. Children from around the time they are toddlers could be taught to wash their hands. Surely teenagers who are destined to attend ivy league/ top class universities the world over could handle that task independently if they have access to liquid hand wash rather than empty hand wash dispensers. May be responsible hand washing is yet another obsolete skill like taking turns and queuing. Knowing how to wash one’s hands doesn’t help one achieve another ‘A’.

I have had enough of ranting. I will go take a rest now

A Belated Bye-bye to Father Bob

It was on the news in late January (29/01) that I heard that Father Bob of South Melbourne said his last Mass. I thought that there would be some kind of mini miracle that would allow him to stay and continue to work but no, he had to go.

Lutheran Pastor Munchenberg of Adelaide planted a seed 20 odd years ago when he was my teacher of religion. Nothing happened. It didn’t grow into a big tree. Then after Christmas 2009, I decided to contact Father Bob via email. I was requesting a prayer for Melbourne Zoo elephant, Dokkoon who was due to give birth to baby Mali. To my big surprise, I received a reply from Father Bob who asked if I would like to pray with him and I thought, “What? Are you sure that you have the time to pray with me?” He did also mention a prayer for animal friends. Not sure if I have to pay for the prayer, I wrote back to reject his invitation as politely as possible. Now, despite not entertaining a prayer session with this kind hearted priest, I did gain something. I felt loved and mattered in the cut off world that I was living in. It was all that was required for that little seed to start growing.

The one time I had been to Father Bob’s Mass was probably Ash Wednesday, 2011. He was running a few minutes late because he was enjoying a midday bath. ROFL. There were only a few of us gathered there that day. Little did I know at the time that he wouldn’t be there again when I return someday. I even used to daydream that I would finally get married at St Peter and Paul. LOL. The little St Francis on Lonsdale was where I normally went to because it was closer to home. May be Father Bob could come all the way to Kota Kinabalu to say Mass over here. How does one go about arranging that?