Paper Chase Down Under


Yesterday turned out to be a long and tiring Saturday for Theresa and I. Both of us had to accompany kiddo into the city in the morning, for her Mac Rob high school entrance exam. It’s a select school and even while waiting in the Mount Waverley station, we realised it was going to be an event with loads of people, as several families were theer for the ride into city. When we got to Parliament station even more families showed up as we left the station and walked towards Carlton Gardens, where the Royal Exhibition Centre was. It was a huge building Royal Exhibition Centreand I hadnt realised the historical significance of this building until then. It was the place where the first Federal Parliament convened in 1901 with Ed Barton as the first PM. It was a huge, magnificent and gorgeous building. Most of the close to 3,000 students and their parents however, werent admiring the building. They were just mulling around, anxious to for the kids to get in to do the 3.5 hours entrance exam. By the time kiddo got in, it was just a little after 12pm and we were only meant to come and get her at 3.45pm. So Theresa and I went and walked around in the city, me looking at suits and coffee machines while she was just contented to show me around Myer, her favourite haunt. We had lunch in an Indonesian restaurant, and coffee at Myer, before finally going back to get kiddo. By the time we got home, it was almost 7pm and we were knackered. We asked kiddo if she really wanted to get to Mac Robertson High, and she said no but we suspect the peer pressure suggests otherwise. The paper chase has come down under.

Pay your way in Msia


About 60% of businesses in Malaysia thought the police was corrupt. Only a shade less of the public at large thought so. This was Transparency International’s findings from a survey last month. Personally, I’m surprised the figures aren’t higher. Perhaps the police force formed a large proportion of the survey respondents without TI knowing. Talk to anyone on the streets (especially one who is a motorist) and he or she would invariably tell you the police in Malaysia are absolutely corrupt. In fact, I’d say almost all government and quasi government agencies are corrupt. These include majority government owned businesses. In my time in Malaysia, I have had, like most Malaysians, the misfortune to deal with all these agencies and l know from being a direct victim, that they are all corrupt. Let me tell you some of my experiences:

$         I had totally unreasonable delay in my application for approval for extension of our house.

$         Every time we get a new car, we’re told in no uncertain terms, that unless we pay up, we’ll have the worst possible number plate assigned to us.

$         Every time we want to renew our vehicle registration or driver’s license we either pay someone to have it done quickly or spend a whole day waiting in line.

$         Lose your wallet and you either pay the police or wait half a day to lodge a police report.

$         Don’t lodge the police report because you either can’t wait or wont pay, and you cant renew your national registration ID card, without which you’d be committing an offence.

$         When you do go on to apply for a replacement card, the same story goes. You either pay or spend half a day waiting in line.

$         In other words, losing a wallet in Malaysia is a nightmare because you then spend at least one whole day, if not two, to have your ID card and your driver’s license renewed.

$         If you’re involved in a road accident, you either pay the police handling your report or you wait the whole day to lodge the report and get a copy of that report, without which you can’t lodge your insurance claims.

$         TNB – the national power company, can appear out of nowhere and claim you’ve tampered with the meter and they will now assess you for usage not billed. You either pay the assessed bill, which you cant refute because there is no basis for their allegation and you cant refuse to pay because they would actually cut off supply, or you pay some officer in the company to have the account appropriately reversed.

$         Ditto the water company and the telephone company.

$         Ditto the inland revenue board, if you own a business. This happened to friends and relatives of mine who own their businesses. No there’s no meter to tamper with here but they would just say you have under-declared your revenue and they would now assess you for back taxes. So if you’re a typical small business, you’d find it more expedient to pay off some junior officer in the tax office instead of engaging a tax accountant (or worse, a tax lawyer) to fix things up. Not that it’s the right thing to do (that’s another theme for another day) but faced with a system which is corrupt to the core, the alternatives are only for the super altruists who are also super rich. Okay, so business is a different ball game – you’d find loads more situations for corrupt practices. Personal income tax can be an area for the tax office bloke to dip into your pocket for his personal gains, as well. Your boss pays bonus not during year end but at some weird time like April, for his tax cashflow benefits? Your tax would be out of whack and there’s a good chance you’d end up paying more tax than you had to. Want a quick refund? Pay some one in the tax office. Otherwise, wait in line and get your refund years later like everyone else.

$         Stay home one afternoon and have someone from the health department or local council call on you to do a spot check for larvae of aedes mosquitoes. Pay him and he’d mosey away.

$         Have to renew your passport? Either be prepared to take at least the morning off to get in line at the immigration office before dawn, or pay someone in the department.

$         Want your child to get into a particular school for whatever reason? That’s right – pay someone. Sometimes you even need to have the right referrals, to know who you’ve got to take care of. To do that, you’d have a preliminary payment before the actual one. Malaysia boleh.

One can go on but one gets the picture.

Talking Down Under


Aussies talk a lot. Try this:

In Melbourne – two guys passing each other in a hallway:

    • Dick: Hi Tom, how are you

      Tom: Hi Dick, I’m very well, thank you. What about you?

      Dick: That’s the way. I’m very well too Tom. Thank you.

KL version:

    • Mat: Hey (nods the head and smiles)

      Seng: Hey (nods and smiles back)

For a typical greeting, Melburnians use a 28-syllables exchange, compared to 2 in KL. At work, an issue requiring a quick decision can take a 15-20 minute discussion before any action is taken, whereas the same result could be achieved without that discussion. Yet, this is what makes the average workplace ticks. I have found that to be true in each of the three of the four places I have worked in, since we moved here in late 2004 (one of them was a short and temporary stint in an Asian firm). Before one does anything, one talks to a colleague, a boss or subordinate and that talk starts by the above styled greeting with some niceties thrown in about taking up that other person’s time for a few minutes, followed by a five minute introduction on the matter. One then goes on to talk about his own thoughts on the matter and talks some more, about what he thought that other person might think about it. That other person would then thank the first person for talking to him about it, offer his own thoughts on the matter and asked if that first person agreed with him. 15 minutes later, the first person would thank that other person for his time and promised to see him later. Such discussions precede many things, not just the more important or serious issues. Yet, for all the additional time the whole process took, the country is not worse off economically or in productivity wise, than a country like Malaysia.

Malaysians who move here have this common observation about the above, notable difference in working here. People here talk so much more, about so many more things. A culture shock of sorts presents itself and it hurts both ways. If an Aussie who is not used to working with new Asian migrants finds that that migrant doesn’t talk too much, it could be interpreted as being unfriendly or being aloof or that nothing stirs him.

I wonder what the present customs are in the Malaysian office. I wonder if people talk more these days. I don’t mean the gossips and sports talk, the bravados about girlfriends, the note comparisons about food joints or about the latest football results. Those things get talked about a lot too, over coffee, in pubs, at a dinner party, on the train or tram and such places. I mean the talk at and about work. Does it happen more now?

Beeb Service


As a quick way to have broad contact with the outside world, I subscribe to the BBC daily email which has several one liners on what’s happening in any given part of the world. You get to choose which regions you wish to have these one-liner updates and you have it pretty much first thing in the morning in your inbox, everyday. It’s a great way to know what’s going on and if you want the details, you just click on the link at the end of that one-liner. You get to choose which sports you want to stay in touch with as well, down to the club or team you want to stay on top of. So, I more or less know for example, on a very high level (ie without the details), that the Vatican has said aid to Amnesty International should be curtailed to cut down assisted abortion. I also know Saha and Smith have both said they wished to remain at United and fight for first team appearances, and that the US has again said something about its currency and China’s role in it. You got to hand it to the BBC/British – they’ve been at it for easily 10 years now and I have subscribed to it for almost as long.

Now that we’re here in Melbourne, I have found this daily email service particularly necessary, as the local newspapers, radio and television can be rather parochial. You’d get a 10-page spread on Aussie Rules football, down to the meaningless statistics (which the Americans are more known for) of something like the goal drought the St Kilda team is experiencing this season in comparison with the goals they have scored in the past 3 seasons. You wont however, have more than half a dozen paragraphs on the G8 in Germany and hardly anything on the recent street demonstrations in Turkey against the government for its Islamic bent. You also will have little on the heat wave in Pakistan or the landslides in Bangladesh. I’d bet you’d get plenty on last night’s State of Origin rugby league match between Queensland and NSW (the banana benders won that game, my interest in rugby league to be blamed on my uni days in Sydney).

One region I constantly subscribe to is the middle-east. I have heard, a long time ago, that that region is the clock for world history. I imagine it being a sun-dial which has a screaming device which would absolutely go off when the shadow hits say, twelve. So I try to keep an eye on it, though events in my country of birth and my adopted country keep distracting me.

The escalation of fighting, this time by Hamas in a civil war type of struggle against the Fatahs, somehow caught my eye. These battles go on all the time so although dozens are reportedly killed, they don’t ordinarily get more than 30 seconds of my attention. Maybe it is the next story, which was the killing of an anti-Syrian Lebanese MP, which had a combined effect on me. It suggests a swelter is building up, even escalating and although similar developments have taken place before, I somehow feel something is going to boil over. I hope I’m wrong. Maybe I should not, because if developments there suggest history is indeed heading for a showdown it may mean better things to come, thereafter.

Apocalyptical events – in so far as they are seen through the eyes of the church (as opposed to the eyes of Hollywood, which often features a nuclear holocaust in Los Angeles or New York City, followed by big-brother style policing by sub-human personnel – are usually tied to the middle east in general and Israel/Palestine in particular. Daniel refers to the “abomination that will cause desolation” which would be set up in the temple, presumably in Jerusalem. The Armageddon is often thought to be in the middle-east, in the region of the ancient city of Megog (again, it neither happens in Los Angeles nor New York City – or outer space). Since the 70s oil shock, focus has grown a lot sharper in that region, where it is thought the end of the world would play out. Can you blame this simple, excitable person therefore, when battles escalate there? I often get this picture that conditions are so volatile there that it won’t take much to set things off. Rock throwing can escalate beyond mere skirmishes, growing into bloody battles and exploding into full-on wars. With rampant threats of nuclear proliferation in places like Iran, wars can be catastrophic, threatening to spark off annihilation of the human race. Yes, the apocalypse. Maybe it’s the very cold weather blanketing Melbourne for now – it was 1 degree this morning in Moorabin, a suburb not too far from us, and was only 3 degrees when Theresa and I left home for work – which is numbing my brains…

 

Is there peace loving Muslim in the House?


 I received this email a short while ago.

 Worthy of reading and further thought…

A man whose family was German aristocracy prior to World War II owned a number of large industries and states. When asked how many German people were true Nazis, the answer he gave can guide our attitude toward fanaticism.

“Very few people were true Nazis “he said,” but many enjoyed the return of German pride, and many more were too busy to care. I was one of those who just thought the Nazis were a bunch of fools. So, the majority just sat back and let it all happen. Then, before we knew it, they owned us, and we had lost control, and the end of the world had come. My family lost everything I ended up in a concentration camp and the Allies destroyed my factories.”

We are told again and again by “experts” and “talking heads” that Islam is the religion of peace, and that the vast majority of Muslims just want to live in peace.

Although this unqualified assertion may be true, it is entirely irrelevant. It is meaningless fluff, meant to make us feel better, and meant to somehow diminish the specter of fanatics rampaging across the globe in the name of Islam. The fact is that the fanatics rule Islam at this moment in history. It is the fanatics who march. It is the fanatics who wage any one of 50 shooting wars worldwide. It is the fanatics who systematically slaughter Christian or tribal groups throughout Africa and are gradually taking over the entire continent in an Islamic wave. It is the fanatics who bomb, behead, murder, or honor kill. It is the fanatics who take over mosque after mosque. It is the fanatics who zealously spread the stoning and hanging of rape victims and homosexuals. The hard quantifiable fact is that the “peaceful majority” the “silent majority” and it is cowed and extraneous.

Communist Russia comprised Russians who just wanted to live in peace, yet the Russian Communists were responsible for the murder of about 20 million people. The peaceful majority were irrelevant. China’s huge population it was peaceful as well, but Chinese Communists managed to kill a staggering 70 million people.

The average Japanese individual prior to World War II was not a warmongering sadist. Yet, Japan murdered and slaughtered its way across South East Asia in an orgy of killing that included the systematic murder of 12 million Chinese civilians; most killed by sword, shovel, and bayonet. And, who can forget Rwanda, which collapsed into butchery. Could it not be said that the majority of Rwandans were “peace loving”?

History lessons are often incredibly simple and blunt, yet for all our powers of reason we often miss the most basic and uncomplicated of points: Peace-loving Muslims have been made irrelevant by their silence.

Peace-loving Muslims will become our enemy if they don’t speak up, because like my friend from Germany, they will awake one day and find that the fanatics own them, and the end of their world will have begun.

Peace-loving Germans, Japanese, Chinese, Russians, Rwandans, Serbs, Afghans, Iraqis, Palestinians, Somalis, Nigerians, Algerians, and many others have died because the peaceful majority did not speak up until it was too late.

As for us who watch it all unfold; we must pay attention to the only group that counts; the fanatics who threaten our way of life.

Lastly, at the risk of offending, anyone who doubts that the issue is serious and just deletes this email without sending it on, can contribute to the passiveness that allows the problems to expand.

My muslim friends, what are you waiting for? Speak out against your brother who are perpetrating a terrible wrong!

Lina’s Joy – Winter’s Here


So much has been written about Lina’s loss in the Federal Court. I only hope she continues to find joy in the Lord. Her joy should come not from a piece of paper which declares to the world she no longer is a Muslim. That may be the warped joy of those tribal chest thumping mobs, who I hope one day find the joy that Lina has. Malaysia is even further from freedom from the clutches of the brand of Islam plaguing the world today, than ever before. I only hope the slide slows down. No amount of political activity or social commentary would reverse that trend. Only God can reveal Himself to them and instill a sense of true justice again. Only then would Malaysia live through this winter of bondage and take a peek at the refreshing smell of spring again.

—————

Speaking of winter, it arrived, at long last, with a blas yesterday. It was right on time too, as Gandalf would say. It was cold yesterday when I left office early for the second time this week, this time to pick Kiddofrom school after her return from school camp. I got home, turned on my notebook and re-hooked back to the office network to do some work as I left her dirty laundry in the washing machine. After a shower, she went to bed for a snooze and we later took her to JGs for a quick dinner before heading to church for bible study.

It was cold again this morning. The usual weekend vacuuming somehow seemed more sluggish. After vacuuming, I planted the 2 correa shrubs which the Australian government gave Kiddo and I on Wednesday. They now stand in the front of the house, the first thing I ever planted here in Melbourne. Hopefully they, like us, grow well in this new country of ours. Theresa mentioned she too would start the process of applying. That was even better news for me.

Oi Oi Oi


At about 1.45 yesterday, I started to pack my stuff to leave for the day. I laid out the flag across my filing shelf, put the clip-on koalas back on the edge of my monitor and put the kangaroo with a boomerang and the kookaburra next to the keyboard, as close as possible to the positions they were in when I got in earlier that morning. I had to catch the 1.55 tram to get to Glen Iris at 2.20, where I have to then catch the 2.23 train back to

Mount
Waverley and wait for Theresa. We were supposed to wait there by about 3pm, where we would drive to the Dandenong regional office of the Department of Immigration and Citizenship, hopefully in time for the ceremony. I was going to take the pledge and be officially declared an Australian Citizen. When I got in to work in the morning, the boss and some other colleagues had laid out all these native animals and a huge flag at my desk. Almost everyone on the floor had known I was going to be “made”. It only started with an innocent request from the boss for the afternoon off to attend the ceremony but it then struck me how significant this event was, as everyone who heard came around to congratulate me and the ladies brought in lamington and other Aussie grub in the morning for the occasion. It was a pity that kiddo had gone to a school camp on Tuesday, as it would have been really nice to have her with us yesterday.
 Anyway, Theresa and I made our way there and joined the other 41 pledging parties and their guests as we waited for the ceremony to begin. We were all seated in a few rows of chairs, with a portrait of the queen in front, next to a lectern. There were little Aussie flags hanging across the ceiling and framed photos of the official crest/coats of arms, in various spots. Someone sounding like John Williamson was singing songs like Waltzing Matilda in the background, until the Minister of Immigration, Kevin Andrews, had this template speech read out by a valium pumped bureaucrat who then lead us in our pledges. One pledge for God fearing soon-to-be citizens and another for the poor atheists. We were then presented with our certificates, and then all joined in the anthem singing. After the ceremony, we were invited to sign up for the electoral register and on the way out, we were each given a native shrub to plant for commemoration. Hopefully our citizenship lasts longer than the plant as in my hands, that poor shrub is likely to suffer a short, poor life.We went home and as the weather got suddenly a lot colder, we went out to this restaurant in
Vermont, for a mini celebratory dinner. My VB wasn’t due to the occasion earlier in the day; I had genuinely acquired a taste for this stuff. I still thought Tiger Beer is the best tasting beer but that stuff is now in the imported category whereas Victoria Bitter remains the working class – read: cheap – beer. Theresa, not having decided to become a citizen, ordered a satay chicken and I frowned not because I didn’t like satay chicken, but thought you’d order it only in a Malaysian restaurant, not an Aussie one badly named “What’s a Name”. I had the restaurant specialty, a breast of chicken rolled up with salmon and crab meat, with a white sauce with pepper corns. It didn’t go well with the VB but I was hungry, so it tasted great. Theresa’s satay chicken turned out well too, so dinner was very nice.

**************************************************We headed for church after that, for the prayer meeting. There were some prayers for some members who were ill but the strange bit was most of the prayers concentrated on “claiming victory” and having the blood of Jesus cleansing the sick, and having his stripes heal our wounds. I couldn’t understand that and told Theresa so, on the way home. Those people had physical illness. One of them was going to see a specialist the next day. Why hadn’t we prayed for healing, for that specialist and for God’s presence and peace to abound, more than those other prayers? When someone is ill, does it mean he is living in a state of defeat, so that the victory won by Christ on the cross is somehow less real in that person’s life? Does it mean he sinned, as why then was it prayed for that person to have the blood of Jesus on him for cleansing? Isn’t that person forgiven in any event, without requiring a prayer to that effect? Didn’t Jesus’ wounds heal us of the result of sins, instead of healing us of our physical ailments? I still don’t get our church as far as these things go. By the time we got home it was almost 10pm. We changed, stretched out in front of the heater and television, and I poured myself a nice glass of red (Aussie of course) as I end an extraordinary day in the ordinary way. I missed Kiddo, and am looking forward for her to get back tomorrow.  

Soh Chee Wen – A Joke


Someone sent me an email earlier today, titled “A Joke”. I thought it was one of those emails meant for lunch time reading so I ignored it until, well, lunchtime! It turned out to be a short piece on a news conference by a businessman in Malaysia. His name is Soh Chee Wen. He’s sometimes referred to as John Soh. He had just been convicted of a crime a day earlier. A white collar, securities dealing related, crime but he is nonetheless, a convicted criminal. So what was the news conference about? He wanted to make a comeback, to the securities dealing scene no less. He wanted to get involved in M&A again. He said he doesn’t need money, saying all it takes is brains.  

I cannot understand Malaysia. I don’t get the press, especially. Maybe the article appeared in some gossip column, or showed up in some metro section. Maybe one of those free “news” papers distributed in train stations. In which case, the press is pretty impressive for picking up comic material, or saccharine society scum stories. Maybe the in house counsels of Malaysian news entities have come down so hard on its journalists that stories meant to criticize are masked as straightforward news reporting.  

Here was a man who illegally traded hundreds of millions of dollars’ worth of shares. He virtually stole money to do it. Along with some other so called business leaders of Malaysia at that time, he helped sink an otherwise healthy securities dealing firm. Many employees of that firm lost money, some extensively, from stock options which became worthless. All lost their jobs. In other words, his crimes destroyed lives. Hundreds of them. That was over 10 years ago. After gallivanting around the world and escaping justice all these years, he goes back to Malaysia and was given a Six Million dollar (Malaysian) fine. It was an insulting slap on the wrist, for a ghastly crime. The employees of the firm Soh Chee Wen destroyed copped more punishment than him. That of course, is typical Malaysian justice and is itself another story.  

The salt on this wound is his threat to return. He was spared a prison term, something he richly deserved. Surely part of the deal he struck must include his total departure from the corporate scene? One can only speculate but is the Malaysian authorities stupid or corrupt? That has to be a rhetorical question, as all Malaysians know it is very likely both. For all his flaws, Soh Chee Wen appears to at least be honest. All it takes is brains? In his case, that penchant must be for criminal acts. Yes, it does take brains to steal in a big way, and not face the consequences. In many places other than Malaysia, it would have been – A Joke.

Blister Et Al


Blister

I don’t know why I did it but 3 days ago (Monday) I used a pair of runners (an Adidas trail running model) which I have not used for a long time. It has a narrow fit and I never liked running in it. It gave me a blister just under the bottom of my left big toe. That I was pushing hard to get 9km in the 45 minutes I allowed myself didn’t help. I ignored it but after the run on Tuesday, the blister became sore and last night (I didn’t run yesterday) I put a band-aid on it and ran again this morning. I was in my more comfy NB so I pushed again, for the 9km-45min mark. By the time I went back to the locker room an hour later, I was distressed to see the mess when I removed my left shoe. The sock was blood stained all around the big toe/sole area and even the plaster had become pink. I removed it gently but the damage has been done. The sting it made (not the stink) when I hit the shower was a reminder to ditch that Adidas for good, no matter how cool it looked. The daggy NB is it for me from now on.

Citizenship

The ex-colleague I caught up with yesterday had the same sentiments as me, as far as citizenship matters go. He, like me, had no second thoughts about going for it, as soon as he qualifies. Apparently, the amendments to law would not be retrospective and the new 4-year wait would apply only for applicants who became residents after the amendments come into effect. That’s fairness for you. Dinky Di Aussie Fairness. I’ve had numerous discussions with friends, relatives and church people about this and sentiments apart, I can see no reason why someone who has lived here for years and has no intention of ever returning to Malaysia to live, would be so hesitant in giving up Malaysian citizenship. Why retain it? If sentiments are preventing me from giving myself a fairer go by being a citizenship of my new country, those sentiments should be ditched.

Dad

It is coming up to 5 months since my father left us. Tomorrow would have been his and mom’s 44th wedding anniversary. It would be the first time in all that time, that my mom would spend this day without him. I still think of him every day. Images of him at meal times, or him just sitting around in the living room. There was a picture of Boris Yeltsin in the papers this morning lying in state in an open casket. They had put the Perspex cover over my dad’s by the time we got to Klang. I regret that – not being there, not being able to speak to him before that, and generally, not spending enough time with him.

 

 

No Info on Malaysian Version


Just following up from yesterday’s entry on public servant package, I could not find anything on Malaysian packages, especially those working in local councils. I did not expect to anyway. I guess such information would probably never be volunteered, never mind published.