Last Saturday, before we went to bed, we had to go through the exercise of adjusting some half a dozen clocks at home, as it was daylight savings again.

 

I told the boss last Friday, that I don’t foresee myself working with her for long, so might as well call terminate the relationship and not waste each other’s time.

 

I was reading an article last night, about our world entering into an “ecological debt” phase, starting 9 October 2006. That meant that from 9 October 2006 on, our consumption is against the resources of future generations, and slowly depleting natural resources more quickly than the earth can replace them. This all sounds very serious.

Alas I am no where close to being so noble – my mind was pre-occupied, not with whether our earth is a ticking time bomb, but with my work. Or rather, the issues at work. It turned out that it was not for nothing. I had more than valid reasons for being so pre-occupied. Somehow, bad as it may sound, work defines a man. I think that sounds bad because, of course, a person is defined by not just his work, but by his other deeds and relationships. That however, is the ideal. The reality is, most men spend more time at work than on anything else. The little time he has left after work can only be deployed in a limited way on his other deeds and his relationships. He is, you see, usually spent by the time he gets home, and is then called upon to play catch-up on his roles as a husband and a father.

So what happens when one’s work undermines his worth? Does he then cease work until he finds another means, or alternative work, to shore up his self-worth? Is that being selfish? Does one grin and bear it, and ride out the conflicts no matter what the costs? My towel is poised but I don’t quite know yet what I should do. Prayer? I’ve done little else. I have, as usual, received no answer at the point when an answer seems like the only thing I need.

Last night, during dinner, kiddo asked us who our best mates are. She meant here in Melbourne and emphasized it. I guess I should have asked her who her best mate was but that question temporarily froze me, because I had just been thinking about it for the past couple of weeks. The work I enjoyed most have been where I had good mates. I don’t know if that is one reason why happiness at work has been so elusive to me. At Sharrock Pitman, I couldn’t count any of my colleagues then as close mates, nice as the people there were. Someone joined later and left after only a short while and I have kept in touch with him and I now consider him a good mate but best mate? I don’t think we have spent enough time together. Of course, we became friends just as he was leaving the firm so he wasn’t exactly a workmate in that sense. In my present place, most people are so political and a lot of charades are clearly so, that I am very hesitant to strike any meaningful friendships. So I guess if I do have a best mate here in Melbourne, he or she is not to be found in the workplace. I guess my best mate is Theresa but kiddo would consider that cheating. Maybe then it is time I invested more in people and let other areas of my life take on bigger roles. That is not a cause for throwing in the towel here just now of course, but that is nevertheless, something to seriously think about, before the time bomb that is this world, goes off.

No, I didn’t mean to be vulgar or cheeky – Throw in The Towel – that’s what I meant. I don’t think I’d find a groove here. I’ll have a word with the boss to give my letter soon, probably in the next few hours.

The boss called in sick this morning, I have finished most of my work, so I have a little time to do some reading.

I’ve just scanned through the report titled: “Corporate Equity Distribution: Past Trends and Future Policy”, otherwise known as “the ASLI report”, the one which showed up the government’s shameless attempt to lie to its people. The report is so intuitively correct I don’t know how anyone could seriously disagree with it. There may be bits and pieces which may be inaccurate, but even if I can pick these up, it does nothing to the reader’s convictions that it sounds absolutely spot on. The 40-page report can by no stretch of the imagination, be anything less than a true picture of the reality.

 

Anyway, certain bits jumped out at me:

At pages 14-16: “One key sector where the influence of non-Bumputeras has diminished and the role of GLCs and Bumiputera individuals has increased is in banking. The decline in non-Bumputera participation in this sector is a result of the government’s enforced bank consolidation exercise, in spite of much public outcry. In 1999, the government proposed to merge Malaysia’s 58 financial institutions into ten – originally it was six – anchor banks. One key protest about this consolidation exercise was that Malaysia’s most dynamic banks were being brought under the control of less entrepreneurial institutions. When the original proposal of just six anchor banks was presented, there was open discontent among non-Bumiputera bankers about this consolidation exercise as the merger of some of their most enterprising banks would diminish their presence in this sector. The number of Chinese-owned banks was subsequently increased from a mere two (Public Bank and Southern Bank) to three, when Hong Leong Bank was also given anchor bank status.”

 

When PhileoAllied Bank was acquired by Maybank, it had about half a dozen General Managers. Together with other senior management staff (from Senior Managers upwards), there were probably less than 20. Guess how many retained their positions or were given anything remotely close to where they were, when they became part of Maybank? From my recollection, ONE. Yes, just one and more tellingly, that individual is (surprise, surprise) a Malay. He continued to be given important roles, retained his perks and blended in more seamlessly than any other senior management personnel. To heighten the significance of it all, I should add that this was a General Manager generally perceived as the worst performing senior management personnel before the merger/acquisition. No marginalisation? Yeah, right.

 

I particularly like this bit:

(Bottom of page 15) “…once thriving non-Bumiputera-owned banks like PhileoAllied Bank, which was quickly gaining a reputation for innovative and efficient financial services, was merged with the government’s Malayan Banking, a larger enterprise but not renowned for its entrepreneurial capacity.”

 

I remember one issue we were negotiating with the investment bankers who had carriage of the transaction had to do with giving up employee share options. The options were in the listed parent company, and if employees of PhileoAllied Bank ceased to be part of the group under the parent company, they lose the options and the issue of compensation had to be addressed. The senior guy I was talking to suggested the trade-off was employment with the country’s largest bank. If only Dr Lim and his team came up with the above quoted paragraph 6 years earlier… Not only should employees of PhileoAllied Bank be compensated for giving up their share options, they should be further compensated for being made to now work with a “larger enterprise not renowned for its entrepreneurial capacity” instead of continued employment with a “thriving non-Bumiputera-owned banks like PhileoAllied Bank, which was quickly gaining a reputation for innovative and efficient financial services”.

 

Also on the same page – page 15: it said this: “Hong Leong Bank, the product of the Hong Leong group’s expensive takeover of MUI Bank just six years earlier,…”

I worked, for a while, for the gentleman who was the vendor, who was later to squander a bulk of the proceeds on investments which turned sour. Pity.

 

Again on the same page: “…RHB Bank, once developed and led by Rashid Hussain, a competent businessman with expertise in the financial sector, has come under the control of a well-connected family, with little or inadequate experience in this sector.”

I remember receiving an sms late one night, causing my wife to very suspicious. It was from a client who got into a bit of trouble with the police, and he needed help. That client was from a well-connected family, with little or inadequate experience in the banking sector and this little dance in the middle of the night in the clubbing centre of Kuala Lumpur, was not a very smart move. I turned up in the police chief’s office very early the next morning, and arranged a meeting between this client and the police chief. That was as far as I could or would go. It turned out later that this episode was just another nail in the coffin, for someone who would never be accepted into the banking fraternity of Kuala Lumpur. The Deputy Chairman of my last Malaysian employer would later regale us with stories of less than acrobatic manoeuvres in the offices of the banking regulator where pieces of furniture were forcibly and haphazardly re-arranged by this client. He’s a product feudalism and NEP, I guess.

 

The report then said: “Of these ten anchor banks, the government has majority ownership of four of them. Another two are owned by Bumiputera. The non-Bumiputera’ prominent – even arguably entrepreneurial – presence in banking and finance has been diminished considerably through government directive. It is probable that over-zealous implementation of polices to achieve certain goals, like the creation of anchor banks, can be of detriment to the development of enterprises, specifically those owned by Malaysian businessmen, while also undermining investor confidence.”

 

To many of us, that spelled the end of our interest in corporate Malaysia. To me, it was slowly becoming a joke and my days with my last Malaysian employer, where I was to witness the brazen dismissal of what is right and the bloody-mindedness to retain discriminatory and unfair policies for years to come, told me to just pack up and go. I did.

 

 

My quest to make sense of my present experience continues but I know my God is a loving Heavenly Father and whatever He has in mind can only be for my own good. So I try and remain positive and obey Him, by being joyful and at peace. Yes, it’s tough but I am deliberately being joyful and peaceful as an act of obedience. I don’t know how this is done, but I am, somehow, doing this. It must be only because He’s making it happen. How else does one be at peace and joyful, when there is little external cause?

Life goes on. It must. So on Saturday I went for my usual weekend run, came back and cooked breakfast for kiddo and myself as Theresa went for a haircut. I do my usual house cleaning, albeit the minimum required only – cleaned the toilets and bathrooms. We then sent kiddo for her tuition and went grocery shopping. Picked kiddo up from her tuition and sent her straight to a birthday party. SS turned 12 on Saturday. We had the whole house to ourselves but unfortunately, Theresa had another one of those ladies’ meeting in church so I stayed home all by myself, did some reading and then decided to watch a DVD which a church member lent Theresa.

Bernard Ankomah is a Ghanaian preacher who now lives in England. I did some quick research on the net on him as some of the stuff he said on the DVD was a bit off, though overall, he was a great encouragement. I then watched a few programs we had recorded on the DVD, including some back episodes of The Sopranos. Theresa finally came home after 6pm, and we warmed up some frozen curries for dinner.

SS’s birthday party was supposed to be a sleepover but kiddo had decided she would come back late that night, maybe around 9.30pm, instead of sleeping over. So after dinner, Theresa and I still had about 2-3 hours to kill, with the whole house to ourselves. Great party, SS!

Next day in church, we were half expecting an old friend to call us. We had spoken to someone the day before and we were told he was visiting Melbourne. He had just had his PR application approved the week before and he was so excited (he had waited a while) that he decided to make the first entry visit immediately and was due to touch down on Sunday morning. Anyway, he didn’t call and we figured he may be too tired, with 3 young kids to tug along on an overnight flight. I’ll try to call him tonight, I think. He’s a good mate and a dear brother.

Theresa had a bit of migraine while we were in church yesterday, so we didn’t hang around after church. We came home early, and she went to bed. Kiddo and I played PS2 a bit (Pro Evolution Soccer – 5, I think), mucked around with Thierry Henry’s profile on it (he’s now a 40 year old bald, paunchy short white guy with the footballing ability of slightly better than that of yours truly). We also played around with the profile of a Chinese national player by the name of Soi Nan. Soi Nan is now a hulking 200cm 85kg behemoth, more muscular and stronger than Samson, but more agile than Michael Jordan. He also has, I think, more football genius than Pele, Georgie Best, Diego Maradona, Alfonso DiStefano, Beckenbauer, … combined. We ran out of time to try out a game between Arsenal and China and kiddo decided to go surf the web while I watched the ECL Magazine show on SBS.

Theresa woke up considerably refreshed, her migraine was gone and we decided to go out for a walk – it was a sunny 20 degree day – and we chatted about a number of things. We talked about kiddo’s development, about her contemporaries’ issues (as shared with us by their parents), about my issues at work and about God dealing with us. We came home, pottered around the house, sent kiddo out for a walk and decided to go out for dinner at JG’s.

After dinner, we went to grab a few things at the local Safeway’s. While at the deli section, someone came up to me and said, “Excuse me, are you Ian? You have that blog called Mal Blog?” I was stunned as she was a complete stranger and I realized then how vulnerable it can be to share your life on the web. I don’t ever publicize my blog yet I get a stranger coming up to me in this way. For a few seconds I thought of the Malaysian SB and wondered if they had anything to do with this but then thought I was probably over exaggerating my own importance. She is probably a Malaysian living in Melbourne who probably wants to see if someone else like her shared any experience she could identify with. I asked her to leave her contact details with me if she’d like to, and we could get together at some point. I hope she does.

This morning I woke up with my usual combination of Monday morning blues and uneasiness of my present work situation but as usual, asked God to do something about it. So here I am, in office, with little to do, except reflect yet some more and wonder what’s going to happen – hence my current entry, which has so far distracted me from the little work I have for about 15 minutes already. Like the poem in the previous entry says, I’m wondering what this picture God is painting is eventually going to look like.

 

I read the poem below on a Dayspring email today; I guess I needed this. I just needed something – actually, virtually anything – to lift my spirits. So, this would do. Along with the little piece someone sent me a couple of days before that – the one about a silver smith purifying molten silver. When I read that piece and Theresa suggested it was what God sent me for my present emotional state, I brushed it off saying I got these pieces (mushy gee-wasn’t-that-beautiful sort) all the time, so this one could hardly be seen as a “special delivery” from God. She reminded me of the story about a guy stuck on the roof of his house during a flood and dismissing the various means to escape, saying God promised to deliver him. Of course I thought that didn’t apply and there was no parallel here to be drawn. For one, the short essays and poems I get aren’t exactly vessels clearly identifying my means of escape – they are more like messages to say – hang onto the roof, look at the bright side of it all. They are not direct solutions or direct messages – they are broad, general comfy one. Sort of like one-size fits all. Sort of like someone being healed of a backache in a church healing ministry. It is either so vague or so general that you cant say it didn’t happen, but neither does it hit you with a thunderbolt, unless you are the sort to see thunderbolts in a matchstick.

The modern society we live in doesn’t give us much time – we want answers 2 seconds after a question is asked. The silver making piece and the poem below use words to suggest the process is considerably slower. And it isn’t just a question of time either. Apart from immediacy, these modern times also demand a sound and light show to accompany every answer. Am I a victim of the times in terms of wanting answers from God? When younger, one of my favourite church songs was “In His Time”. Easier sang than lived, as always. He may make all things beautiful in His time but you grow white hair in the meantime.

Rick Warren – he of the Purpose Driven Life fame – says the purpose of life is to prepare for eternity. The irony is, I spend 8 hours a day at work, about 1.5 hours traveling to and from work, about half an hour getting ready for work and about half an hour to unwind from work when I get home (about the time I take to knock back a couple of beers). That’s 10 hours set aside for work, and I’m a lucky one, who works 8 hours a day. These days, one can easily work 10 hours. Many work considerably more. So, conservatively, one sets aside 10 hours a day for work and work-related activities. One should get about 7 hours sleep, so that leaves 7 hours – to do stuff like cook, clean and eat. From experience (now that I cook and clean everyday), such activities can take anything up to 2-3 hours per day. That leaves just 4 hours – spend an hour with the kid, spend an hour working out and that leaves you 2 hours. I spend 30-40 minutes with God. Say even if you spend the full 2 hours that you have left with God, that’s less than 10%. If Rick Warren is right (and he has to be) we spend only 10% of our time working on our purpose of life. I don’t know – we spend so much time on stuff which has little to do with the purpose of our being.

I know the ideas above all sound a bit disjointed – my thoughts are, for now. I have a sense that some of these matters are relevant to put everything in place and my life finds some meaning and satisfaction again. For now though, I just think I need to give it time.

 

Landscape

By Roy Lessin,
Co-founder DaySpring Cards

Your life’s like a landscape and God has the brush.
The work is in progress, He’s not in a rush.
Each stroke has a purpose, nothing’s by chance.
To see all His wisdom takes more than a glance.

Notice the sunbeams that shine on the dew —
Even the clouds can’t keep them from view.
Look at the pathway that turns at the hill —
Its course will reveal what’s next in His will.

The stream that’s flowing with water so blue
Is bringing down blessings meant just for you.
The trees that are planted close to the stream
Will bring forth more fruit than you’ve ever seen.

The bird in the nest with mouth opened wide
Is just a reminder that God will provide.
Now look at the sheep in the meadow that’s near
And notice the Shepherd that keeps them from fear.

He’s brought them to pastures which give forth the best,
That cool and refresh, and keep them in rest.
The eagle above, that soars o’er the gale
Is God’s way of saying, "My strength will not fail."

That part of the painting which now seems unclear
Will take on new meaning with each passing year.
So trust God to work in His own perfect way
And rejoice in the beauty He’s painting today.

 

And I am sure that God, who began the good work within you, will continue His work until it is finally finished on that day when Christ Jesus comes back again. Philippians 1:6 NLT

I have had this visitor to this blog, who wants to play games. See the comments to my previous entry to know what I mean. Thankfully, I don’t have an audience for this blog, certainly not one big enough to worry me unnecessarily. This person however, has succeeded in prodding me to do something about comments. Just so that such pesky incidents are minimised, I have activated the option to moderate comments. Unless this person chooses to engage in a discussion openly and fairly, this option would remain activated. I know a handful of you out there occasionally read my entries (presumably we all have our dull moments in life so we need a little distraction). If my entries prompt you to comment, I’d be most delighted as it is almost always exciting to engage someone in a discussion. Up until now I have chosen to let these comments get published without any moderation as open discussions are best. However “open” is the operative word here, and this is not possible if one chooses to play guerrilla warfare-style of games. A former colleague has asked me to ignore this 3-star hotel fellow, and I will, by moderating comments. If it turns out this is his/her idea of a joke, then if I see the humour, I would apologise and revert to life as before. Until then, this person is not invited to comment anymore. Contrary to his belief, this is not public domain as such. It is my sphere which I have chosen to share with the public. Therefore if I don’t like a comment, I can not only choose to ignore it, I can choose not to have it published. My rule? There must be openness. If one chooses to play cloak and dagger games with me, I am not interested. Kapish?

 

I got the following comment in my Inbox this morning. For some unknown reasons, the comment was posted to an entry concerning my running. What irks me is this person claims to know me, expects me to know who he/she is (I don’t), makes comments and runs off without leaving an opportunity to engage me for a discussion, no matter how brief or truncated that discussion may turn out to be. He/She leaves enough trails to let me know he/she knows me but is not willing to leave more info to engage me. I guess that is the price I pay for allowing comments to be posted. Never mind – this limited blog is never going to have an audience big enough for that to be a problem.  Here is the comment:

its not always easy revealing ones true identity in malaysia as freedom of speech in m’sia is not 100% freedom. for people like teetwoh..is alot easier as he is not in m’sia and won’t be disturb by the authorities. but if he was to be in malaysia or come back, he wud have had it …trust me, its not always an easy choice being a coward knowing that the country ur living in is vastly populated by crazy malay politicians. teetwoh – running away isn’t the solution, there’s always someone watching u wherever u are .. BE safe and will pray for you, C.H and E.T.

urs truly,

u knoe who.

Yesterday the boss called in to say work-from-home was the order for the day. So I had an easy day yesterday but today, everything’s back to full-on and my plate is full again.

In a few weeks, I would be reaching the 2-year mark since moving to Melbourne. Under the current rules, I would be eligible to apply for citizenship in a few weeks. There is now a public debate on the requirements to be a citizen of Australia. Among the changes thrown up for discussion, is a 4-year wait. This has been brought about by Muslim migrants who, having become Australians, then declare their support for Jihads against Australia. Frankly, I don’t care if it is 2 years or 4 years. I have lost any affinity for the nation of Malaysia.

 

There is no such thing (nation of Malaysia) anyway. As it stands, the Malays regard Malaysia as their own and exclusive domain. The Chinese (and others who are not Malays) are, in their mind, only guests who have been allowed to remain. I may not speak or think or behave like a true-blue Aussie but at least formally, legally, I would treated as an equal once I become a citizen. If it is going to take 4 years for that to happen, then so be it. If it remains 2 years, then soon I would be lodging my application. My love and affection is not for the so-called nation – it is for my loved ones there. My parents, brother and sister and their families, my old friends, these I don’t lose no matter which country I declare my allegiance to.

 

I still however, follow general news in Malaysia by reading various websites. The latest issues include the statement by the former Singaporean PM that Chinese in Malaysia has been systematically marginalised. Predictably, the reaction has been heated. The usual noises and demands for apologies are made. I don’t know why they bother. They should be just quietly ashamed, as someone who has been caught out and called a liar or a thief. I guess strictly speaking it is difficult to “marginalise” 25% of the population. Discriminated against but not marginalised, maybe. But if you discriminate systematically and over a period of time, don’t you marginalise? Just semantics – the bottom line is: those who are not Malays are not treated fairly and this is policy.

 

I remember during the initial months we were here, I asked kiddo if she considered Australia home, after a few months living here. She said no. That was more than a year ago. This past weekend, we talked about this again and she said she wanted me to apply for citizenship. She wanted to be a citizen as well. She now considers Australia home. She has taken less than 2 years to make this decision. I guess 2 years is enough for a decision like this, Mr Howard. No need for 4 years. The additional 2 years would not make any difference. If a migrant is going to make a bad citizen after 2 years, that migrant is likely to remain a bad citizen after 4 years.