A dimming festival of light....

Recently, I had the opportunity to participate in another (what I would call) Chinese gorging fest. In simpler words, let's just call it buffet.

But this was no ordinary buffet. It is an annual fixture that most Sri Paandi fans are familiar to but for those without a clue, Sri Paandi, a Southern Indian food restaurant, offers free food on every Deepavali morning... something those slant-eyed, keen-nosed and sharp-eyed Chinese would not want to miss in their relentless pursuit of 'priceless' luxuries (fuck off to those who think I don't like Chinese people. I was at Paandi's too!).

Well, as one might've imagined, at a typical buffet, hordes of Chinese would mosh their way towards the first sight and scent of food, much like how the Chinese foot-soldiers would overwhelm their enemies to defend their palaces. At Paandi's, add the word 'free food' into the equation and you'll get utter chaos. Human chains as far as the eye can see (OK, this is pure exaggeration but from where I was sitting, its pretty close to the word). Chains branching from every food dispensing counter; thosai counter, curry counter, beverage counter, and the plate washing station as there were insufficient plates.

Hundreds of hands, mostly yellow-skinned, chucked damp plates at the faces of the Indian waiters (whom are the celebrated ones if one might forget) asking/ requesting/demanding for (more) thosai, roti canai, idli, curry, dhall, tea, coffee with no courtesy of a smile, a simple thank you or a wish of 'Happy Deepavali' in return. Yet some of the Chinese there expected butlering services; complaining about slow waitering when the waiters were outnumbered 20 to 1 and requesting for utensils when they can eat with their hands (since its Deepavali and its an Indian restaurant mah!).

But what pains me most was an elderly Chinese lady, waiting in line not far from where I was. and, when it was her turn to be served, she asked for some thosai, of which, the waiter duly served. But she stood there for a bit, her eyes hovering over the steaming thosai on her plate before looking up at the waiter and asked in thick Chinese accent, 'Huh? This is thosai ah? You give me thosai ar, you sure ar?'.

Sigh. That incident underlines how disconnected some Chinese are with non-Chinese traditions and cultures. It underlines how proud and, to an extent, ethnocentric some local Chinese are. These are the same bunch of Chinese who believe in eating only Chinese, that Chinese restaurants are the cleanest and that other restaurants like the Indian, the Malay, and the 'mamak' restaurants are sub-standard in terms ingredient, quality and cleanliness.

And these are the same bunch of Chinese who choose the worst day to visit a non-Chinese restaurant, when the quality and cleanliness pales in comparison to other days. They would flock to Sri Paandi in groups of families and extended families, willing to squirm their way through crowds of sweaty bodies, using partially washed utensils for some mere meal, which they cannot name, and which, would cost them less than five ringgit.

Man, am I proud of my people or what.

Reposting from Friendster Blog (I know!)

Chronicles from The Asylum (PART 1)

Sunday, October 22nd, 2006

"Did you get a room in an asylum?", asked my friend when I told him about my flatmates in Australia. Unfortunately for me, what I told was only just the tip of the iceberg. Hence, it is about time (since I’ve written extensively concise about my flatmates to my girlfriend) that I spill my experiences with my flatmates into the oblivious realm of cyberspace.

Of course, with all due respect, their identities will be kept secret and I shall identify them as, plainly, ‘flatmate’, and may I remind you that what is said here is not in proper sequence. Although this might sound egregiously biased and uni-perspective, I swear that all that is said here, is true. Here goes nothing…

Scenario: Flatmate picks up a plastic bowl-like utensil with lots of tiny holes at the bottom.

Flatmate: Errrrm, is this a sieve?

Me: … (trying to hold back sarcastic remarks)

Chronicles from The Asylum (PART 2)

Monday, October 23rd, 2006

Bloody hell! The amount of times my new flatmates ask me where certain household items are kept is insurmountable. I mean, find it yourself first, then ask! This house we live in is bloody small and the places we keep stuff are limited, let alone obvious! Here are some of my ‘real’ (a subjective concept) accounts…

Episode 1
Flatmate: Erm, has anyone seen my plate?
Me: Find it!
Flatmate: Okay.....

Episode 2
Flatmate: Erm, where is my cup?
Me: Ask the dishwasher…
Flatmate: Okay.....

Episode 3
Flatmate: Where is the drawer that you guys put the plastic bags?
Me: Is there a drawer that you haven’t open?
Flatmate: You mean this one? (opens it)…Oh.
Me: TADAAAAA!

Episode 4
Flatmate: Erm, what should I wipe this up with?
Me: Something that sucks up liquid…

More to come, stay tuned!

Hypocrites, stereotypes dan ...

The days following this Ahmad dude’s audacious remarks in which he branded the Malaysian Chinese community as ‘penumpangs’ (passengers), many has come forth to express their displeasure and called the ISA to take its course.

What an audacious bunch of hypocrites!

These are the very same ones that, on a normal day, would pounce on every chance to bring down the unbounded will of the ISA. And now, when something like this happens (not forgetting that, once again, a political figure or opinion leader is the one RESPONSIBLE for fanning racial flames), these hypocrites turn to the minority’s public enemy number one.

If the people of this country want to put an end to this nerve-racking long-running national issue, why can’t they discuss it out in the open? For years, Malaysians have suffered the stain and a nameless fear resonated by the events of 1969, and now, with less than 12 years to ‘Wawasan 2020’, it is a joke that Malaysia and her people haven’t the maturity and the willingness to bury this infamous past as one nation.

We should be discussing each other’s stereotypes and incite strong conversations about the ‘penumpangs’, ‘pemabuks’ and ‘pemalas’ of this country. Let it be a test of maturity for Malaysia and her people, a dare to go to the brink of when one faction lends the first punch and think ‘Do I really want to behave like my immature and racially fuelled forefathers?’

Perhaps it’s due to the stereotyping mentality of Malaysians; imposing and subjecting our own thoughts about other races. I mean, what does the words ‘penumpang’, ‘pemabuk’ and ‘pemalas’ mean without hooking a specific race to it. I merely mentioned those 3 words to prove that we are all racist and I am quite sure that any who reads this would have hooked a specific race on those words. I would have to as well.

Being stereotypical about other races is quite natural. However, Malaysia has come along way and racial tolerance among her people must be test or probed before acceptance can materialize.

Sigh. I remember way back in school I used to shout ‘Oi Melayu!’ and my Malay mate would respond with an ‘Oi Cina!’ After that we would curse about each others race and have a good laugh about it. My point is, I feel that our generation don’t give a fuck about racial differences, let alone incite racial tension. It is our political figures and opinion leaders who keep reminding us all that we have to be careful of what we say or do with regards to race. Indirectly, isn’t this inciting racial tension?

Well, based on Malaysian history, we Chinese are a bit of a ‘penumpang’, but we did our part in giving directions to the ‘pemandu’. But I think foreign conglomerates like the McDonalds and the Nikes, are the real ‘penumpangs’; killing off small local businesses and enterprises as well as hogging our shop lots. Unless this pervasive phenomenon is in-line with our political figures’ and opinion leaders’ stereotype on progress.

*Apologies for any grammatical errors. No time to read through...*

New surroundings...

It's been a month now since I moved in my grandmother's place and sharing this double-story abode with my grandmother, blood-brother and 2 of my 50-odd year old virgin uncles. Right now, my journey to my workplace takes like 5 minutes... an added bonus to that puny 15-sen fuel price reduction.

There was quite a bit of re-arrangement to do but in the end, I settled with one that is quite similar to my old hostel room back in Berwick, VIC: bed next to the door and light switch, reading desk beside bed and a wardrobe tucked against the empty wall.

I kinda like my wardrobe though. It's one of those old school, rice-sack-cloth-over-flimsy-metal-frame wardrobes that I got from Giant to give my new room that added asrama feel. It kinda reminds me of Mat Som, an old Malay comic from Lat about a struggling journalist hoping to make it big. In the comic, Mat Som, the hero, adjusts the same wardrobe every morning to keep it from tilting and now, I know why. So yeah, Mat Som's pretty close to what I am now. The only difference is that I struggle to service journalists. Oh, I'm a PR consultant, by the way.

There are some new additions to my room now. The PS2 plugged in to this old unwanted telly and a 'new' old acoustic guitar dropped off by my god-brother. These comfort toys are the ideal chill-out companions for every guy living alone... in his room.

Well, that's about it. A rather brief sneak peek of my new surroundings. Somehow, I don't feel like its a guys' room though. That credit goes to my brother's room next door.Plus, I had to brave through his 'manly' fumes just to capture some visual proof for you readers (if any).

Cool huh? Its like Hurricane Katrina all over again. My brother's room ought to be the hardest 'Where's Wally' puzzle ever!

Anwar's triumph: Is democracy fair?

With a majority of 15K odd votes, the people of Permatang Pauh welcomed back their favourite son - Anwar Ibrahim. But with the man's name on everyone's lips, both locally and globally, did democracy run its course in this famous win?

Democracy; born out of a Western systemization of human policing and governing, is deemed to be fair to all. If that is so, what would the 'losers' get?

And because the fairness in democracy is achieve through the sum of ballots, would secondary elements like fame and stardom influence its outcome. Anwar Ibrahim is a star in Malaysian politics. Care to spell out the other 2 flers eyeing for the same seat? You can't? So on the ballet, whose name would you rather place a cross next to? Well, there you go; Anwar 1-0 unknowns.

Well, since he is always in and out of the limelight, and we know him by his first name, and voting is basically a cross on a piece of paper, might as well give him a chance, right? What is there to lose, we've been cheated for the past 50 years!

A gifted and an irate speaker, Anwar's forte is definitely constructing sentences that not only make sense to the lowest common denominator, but also make their heads nod in acknowledgement. Many past leaders bare such traits and won their respective elections hands down, Hitler included. With his expertise in sense-making, complex political subjects become simple and easy to understand like the petrol issue. Is Anwar going to turn Penang into a national guinea pig by lowering the fuel prices in the island? Can he do that? Why not? In his speech, its really that simple. Why? Is it complicated now?

By right, I should be congratulating the man, and I will. I congratulate him in his mastery in pop-politics. With all his appearance and mentions in a worldly stage during as well as after the 1998 incident, he knew with such prominence and popularity, votes will swing his way like gravity. No longer are social figures judged by his or her social efforts and the outcomes of these efforts. What has he done to prove himself? Where is his political footprint? Is he really, like really really that good? If Che Det didn't accused him or lock him up for his past doings, who is Anwar Ibrahim today? With his past still unproven, the man has served time and now, the people think he is ready to serve. Well, I guess the man has waited for his chance to arrive and it did. Play it small but frequent like Suu-Kyi, patiently enduring like Gandhi, and pounce on the right opportunity like every man would.

Time will tell and time will prove. Time... is in Anwar Ibrahim's hand.

A note of thank you...

This is a thank you note to Malaysia's most well known serviceman, who took the guise of Sultan Alauddin, braved through the hordes of pitiful and perspiring commuters, waited forcefully but patiently like the people around, boarded several packed trams and created a spectacle of concern for all to see.

Yes, for once, several police escorts were assigned to more crucial duties and our congested roads saw one less VIP convoy worming and blaring through traffic. The coverage by the media on this 'surprise' lawatan sambil belajar by our fellow serviceman seemed somewhat rehearsed, though.

Then again, the plight of our fellow Malaysians was seen through the eyes of one who has power to set things in progressive motion, and not by any of his minions. For almost a decade, our local commuters have waited and hoped for such a day to arrive - so that their daily tangle with unruly public transport users, filthy tram benches, ear-shattering screeches, bacteria-ridden railings and handles can be shared by one who seemed vindicated from the sufferings of common Malaysians.

With his well planned public appearance, millions of Malaysian will harbour the thought that something IS being done, overlooking tangible results. However, since we've waited many years for such a day to arrive, we might as well wait a few more years before such results can be enjoyed. And hopefully, these results will materialize within the reign of our fellow serviceman. Pray that his days won't stretch longer than his predecessor's.

Where have all the good food gone?

He he, the title is slightly inspired by that famous Paula "hairy armpits at the Grammy's" Cole song. But the case in question remains - Blardy hiaoo, wear ken I faing good food! (Chinese accent intended)

Plus, must be cheap lah. The past 2 days, I had to live through the torment of paying above RM7 for a bowl of bland kuey teow soup each day.

The first day, pouncing upon the opportunity to have dinner with my parents (thus, getting them to pay as well), my partner-in-crime brother and I managed to convince them to try out newly opened Pappa Rich restaurant at Dataran 3 Dua (the place that is not the old Jaya Supermarket, Jaya 33 or Jaya One).

Unlike a pair of slippers, they succeeded in living up to its name - Fuct man, rm7.60 for a bowl of kuey teow soup! Actually it should be soup kuey teow because the kuey teow is in the soup, not just a bowl of soup. But then again, if I can argue that way, Chinese New Year should be New Chinese Year right?... Anywayyyy. Not only that, we found bits of 'something' floating about in our ais kosong. We lodged a complaint and the waiter changed our ais kosongs when they should be changing they filter system instead.

Pappa Rich's definition of a bowl of kuey teow:

- a jumble/grab/pull of Chinese yellow noodles
(not the better kind - its the one that sticks together if its not properly cooked and has a tinged of boric acid aftertaste. )

- 2 above average size fish paste cakes
(I don't know why the Chinese still call it fish paste cake but really, its a lot of flour with something fishy)

- 2 foo chuks
(Its bean curd skin lah. Normally when you over boil soya milk, that emulsion formed on top is carefully separated out and dried to get foo chuk so c'mon, its not the most expensive thing on the planet! Chee cheong fun hawkers rob us 60 sens for each slab of these but Pappa 'Rich' offers only a quarter of the size!)

- some tauge
(these things grow out of the singlet I forgot to put into wash last week lah!)

- soup
(this was not bad actually. The taste brought back memories of Gopeng, my parents' kampung, and how much I miss a good bowl of kuey teow soup.)

AARGHGH! I'm tired of writing already! Still haven't get past this 1st bowl! Part 2 coming up but don't know when... (why worry when no one is reading. hehehe.)

Profile VS Education: Which will get you a job?

I was supposed to play futsal but somehow the organizer got sucked in by the lure of the 'King of Fruits'.

Right now, I'm left with this blog after gorging myself with my after-work necessities: dinner, meeting my girlfriend, rest, a bit of wrestling and the Olympics. I didn't really think I had a topic in mind but there's something bugging me and it sounds like this - Profile or Education: Which will get you a job?

Well, I have a general interest in writing and content creation. Recently, I used my academic certs to great effect by securing a job at a PR firm. (OK, maybe secure is not a right word at the moment.) After a month, I'm beginning to feel that PR is not my mug of beer and the human element behind the job is pretty taxing for a non-people-person guy like me. Day after day, I feel that my creative juices are drying up with the limited avenues, normally marred by the fact that there only 24 hours in a day, after accepting this 9-to-6 job. But with credentials in Mass Communications/Int'l Studies, where else can I go?

I could fall back on my profile that 'boasts' a handful of college plays that I've acted in & directed, a few 'TV Pendidikan' series I was involved in, around 18 short videos I wrote, acted in and directed for www.gua.com.my (Media Prima's New Media wing) as well as a full-length movie I acted in. Of course there is always the question, "So you have these in your profile... but how good are your stuff?"

Hmmm, I think that question can be easily answered with an academic cert of the specific fields but I always believe that life can be changed if one has the right connections looking over their shoulder. BUUUUUUT, if you're not that of a people-person, you'll probably be over looked.

That's it, I'M FUCTED! Or am I?

First entry!

HELLO AND WELCOME!

Thanks to boredom and a severely sore throat, I have brought upon myself yet another commitment - THIS BLOG!

Well, not to sure of what to include or specify in this blog other than it being an avenue to pe... I mean... err... type out my thoughts? Type_out_my_thoughts? Can I still use 'pen my thoughts' without actually using a pen? Why can't idioms update itself? Why can't language be constantly evolving to fit the trends of our time? What's wrong with creating new languages? Isn't language just a construction! Why can't I stop questioning!

So yeah... err, this is just an avenue to err... to pen my thought through typing... no wait. To... type the thoughts I pen?

ARGH!

I think type out my thoughts is better lah. Yeah, its better.

Although sometimes I will copy and paste from my previous blog.