My brother in Malaysia wrote me an email yesterday, just generally updating and chatting. I think it was the Shah Alam floods last weekend which made him write. He lives there, but not in the affected areas.

He has been affected, for some time now, in a different way and has been looking for a house elsewhere.

It’s the smallest thing but I guess it’s important to them (he and his wife).

You see, they have 2 dogs. Pesky little things but I feel so only because I have always been one for bigger dogs. They have two Pomeranians and though they are lovable, the darting around and constant yelping is not my idea of how dogs should behave.

Anyway, it seems somehow dogs and Shah Alam are a bad mix these days. Neighbours don’t like it, it seems. Because of the overwhelming number of dog averse residents, no more keeping of dogs allowed for intermediate units (houses in the middle of a block, with both sides each sharing a common wall). End or corner units may have dogs but only with the neighbour’s permission.

I guess the majority is flexing its muscles. I guess it is also a reflection of the times. Tolerance is no longer fashionable. If your neighbour is different, get rid of him. Want to live amongst us? You better be like us.

But does making you more like us make you less yourself? Don’t I lose out if you are less yourself and more like me? I’m not God – why would I want you to be more like me?

How much like me do you have to be, or how much less of you need you be, before I accept you? What is the problem with me accepting you, dogs and all, or burkha and all? I guess the answer is a lot more complicated than many would like to think.

But in the mean time, a decent normal Malaysian has to move (after living in that house for 7 years) because his neighbours don’t like dogs, but he and his wife do.

If you bought a certain type of property in Victoria under normal circumstances, you have a 3 days’ cooling off period. You could within those 3 days, back out of the deal. All you pay for the privilege of locking the seller in for 3 days is either 0.2% of the purchase price or $100.

Well, ours ended today so we are bound. In any case we paid the rest of the 10% today. We were told, at the point of paying, that there were many more viewers who came to see the house last Sunday. There were also a couple of offers made for it. So we had a little comfort from that. We went in on Saturday to take some measurements and look around for work required and even then there were quite a few viewers.

I had also given notice to the landlord’s agents on Friday last week, saying we would be out by 27/3. So, we are going ahead with this.

A to-do list seems like the next thing to do…

 

 

 

That was beautiful, Kathy. Thanks

 

I know I shouldn’t be saying this but there are mornings I wake up and realise I’m on the “wrong” side of forties (I used to think in terms of thirties), especially if I wake up to some aches or sores which prevent me from doing my morning runs, as this past week has been.

 

This poem reminds me to take things in the correct spirit and perspective.

 

Think I will blog this…

 

 

 ******************************************************
 SOME GREAT WORDS OF WISDOM FROM LISA MORISON – well worth a read and  reflection.

When an old lady died in the geriatric ward of a small hospital near
Dundee, Scotland, it was believed that she had nothing left of any value.
Later, when the nurses were going through her meager possessions, they found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff  that
copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital. One nurse took her copy to Ireland. The old lady’s sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the North Ireland Association for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on her simple, but eloquent, poem. And this little old Scottish lady, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this "anonymous" poem winging across the Internet:

 *********************************************

  Crabby Old Woman

  What do you see, nurses?
  What do you see?
  What are you thinking
  When you’re looking at me?

  A crabby old woman,
  Not very wise,
  Uncertain of habit,
  With faraway eyes?

  Who dribbles her food
  And makes no reply
  When you say in a loud voice,
  "I do wish you’d try!"

  Who seems not to notice
  The things that you do,
  And forever is losing
  A stocking or shoe?

  Who, resisting or not,
  Lets you do as you will,
  With bathing and feeding,
  The long day to fill?

  Is that what you’re thinking?
  Is that what you see?
  Then open your eyes, nurse,
  You’re not looking at me.

  I’ll tell you who I am
  As I sit here so still,
  As I do at your bidding,
  As I eat at your will.

  I’m a small child of ten
  With a father and mother,
  Brothers and sisters,
  Who love one another.

  A young girl of sixteen
  With wings on her feet
  Dreaming that soon now
  A lover she’ll meet.

  A bride soon at twenty,
  My heart gives a leap,
  Remembering the vows
  That I promised to keep

  At twenty-five now,
  I have young of my own,
 Who need me to guide
  And a secure happy home.

  A woman of thirty,
  My young now grown fast,
  Bound to each other
  With ties that should last.

  At forty, my young sons
  Have grown and are gone,
  But my man’s beside me
  To see I don’t mourn.

  At fifty once more,
  Babies play round my knee,
 Again we know children,
 My loved one and me.

  Dark days are upon me,
  My husband is dead,
  I look at the future,
  I shudder with dread.

  For my young are all rearing
  Young of their own,
  And I think of the years
  And the love that I’ve known.

  I’m now an old woman
  And nature is cruel;
  ‘Tis jest to make old age
  Look like a fool.

  The body, it crumbles,
  Grace and vigour depart,
  There is now a stone
  Where I once had a heart.

  But inside this old carcass
  A young girl still dwells,
  And now and again,
  My battered heart swells.

  I remember the joys,
  I remember the pain,
  And I’m loving and living
  Life over again.

  I think of the years
  All too few, gone too fast,
  And accept the stark fact
 That nothing can last.

  So open your eyes, people,
  Open and see,
  Not a crabby old woman;
  Look closer . . . see ME!!

 Remember this poem when you next meet an old person who you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within………..we will all, one
 day, be there, too!

 

I wrote this letter to Malaysiakini in July 2004, which was published on 29 July 2004. I used the name “Cant Keep The Faith Now”

Ignoring the gorilla, hastening emigration

I read Ryan Davidson’s letter and immediately told my wife that it felt like I was looking into a mirror. You see, my family and I have, like Ryan and his family, decided to leave Malaysia.

We were never party to the social contract that we are told our forefathers had entered into almost 47 years ago. In any event, we do not like being at the receiving end of a liberal interpretation of the contract and the unjust and unconscionable enforcement of the liberally construed terms, onto so many of us.

Certainly, it is my belief that if I do not take my family out of this country, I will continue to subject my child, and her children after her, to the continuing injustice of this contract. I often thought the new administration under our new prime minister presents new hopes for fairer treatment.

Alas, just as the previous PM was an exciting breath of fresh air some 22 years ago but proved so putrid much later on, I feel I cannot subject my child and her children after her, to the same risk. That risk being that this PM too, may abandon fresh hopes for justice in exchange for immediate gains to himself, his family, his supporters and his race.

I feel especially compelled to write this, after what happened recently. I had the chance of a quick brush with a young man, who represents the future of the ruling party. This young man has also been under the media spotlight recently, albeit more voluntarily this time around.

He was trying to explain what went wrong in respect of the many who could not be given places to study medicine in local universities, despite scoring top marks. He thought it had something to do with the fact that the assessment procedures were totally academic, and as academic capabilities of students reached a plateau where many scored top marks, another dimension needed to be introduced, to further differentiate these talents.

This was necessary as there were simply not enough places for medicine in local universities as more and more scored top marks. I kept very quiet as he did his quick discourse. I thought it was a pained argument, as it ignored the proverbial 600-pound gorilla in the corner.

I thought it was painfully obvious the shortage of places came about principally because there was a backdoor through which many entered and took up seats. While many more scored top marks in STPM than before, many continue to gain entry without having to.

Of course, no one asked this bright young man whether his other dimension for differentiation will apply across the board. It would have been impolite to point out this very large animal in the corner and ask, ‘What about that?’

If a bright, very well-educated, articulate young man espoused thoughts which totally ignored the fundamental injustice of our system, what future does our country hold?

If this is future prime minister material, then I really feel people like Ryan Davidson and I are doing the right thing by taking our children out. Bright people may not be just people. No matter how bright and well-educated our future leaders are, if they choose to continue to hold on to an obviously unjust system, we cannot subject our children’s future to these leaders.

My father did not have the opportunity to leave. I now have to pay the price of starting anew – abandoning a secured and well-paid job – so that my child escapes the injustice.

Am I enjoying life here in KL? You bet. Like Ryan, my wife and I draw incomes for lifestyles too painful to sacrifice. Yet, if we choose to be concerned only with our own job security and comfortable lifestyles, our child may one day be faced with the decision I now face.

What if she does not have the same opportunity to leave for another country? I feel I must leave now, while the window remains open. Am I running away? You bet

 Then, this I followed up with this, after a few replies were published. It was published on 16 August 2004:

 

Dr G Walter in his letter suggested that if one is well-paid, one cannot or should not complain of injustices. I find this argument curious at best. Walter further suggested that I and Ryan Davidson harbour bitterness which has its roots in deprivation of ‘more wealth’. 

Shaukat Ali also thought I was being vitriolic. Or maybe he thought Ryan was the guilty one. I wonder how Walter and Shaukat Ali are able to make such observations based on what I wrote.

I wish to elaborate on a point I made in my earlier letter that judging from the current state of affairs, I see no changes to the way things are run in this country.

The young ruling elite has demonstrated a continuing focus on the ‘social contract’, the interpretation and application of which has lead to – and will continue to lead to – anomalies in resource allocations, chiefly of higher education opportunities.

I don’t see how the above point makes one bitter or ‘vitriolic’. Have I been deprived of more wealth thus resulting in bitterness or vitriol?

Hardly. Like I said, my wife and I are both earning reasonably good incomes. In fact, where I am now affords more opportunities for more wealth, precisely because I am surrounded by well- connected people, including the young ruling elite class.

It is this proximity which tells me the social contract will be enforced for as long and as far as I can see. I think this is unjust. I can ignore the injustice, continue to enrich myself, and pack my kid off to another country for a first-class education.

Or, I can uproot now and remove ourselves from such injustices.

In his final point, Walter seems to concede there are more civil liberties in certain countries. He implied however, that immigrants do not deserve these benefits as they have not fought for them.

Actually, I am only taking my kid to a place where I think she has a better fighting chance. Just like my great grandfather did when he left China so many years ago.

 

Thought I’d copy them here to keep in perspective, of my most recent letter to them (see a few posts back)

 

Stories about a man called Abramoff made headline a few weeks ago. This man apparently undertook questionable lobbying work in the US. Questionable should maybe read illegal. I guess the surprise is the scale and openness of the whole thing, not the fact that it is a done thing in the business of government in the US. Lobbying is an old profession. Not the oldest for sure but the job description would catapult it pretty close to the oldest.

Yesterday’s LA Times reported the Malaysian connection with Abramoff’s equivalent of the $2 company – an entity known as American International Centre. Malaysia was a good client, apparently. It paid $1.2 million to Abramoff through this organisation and got in return, a photo-shoot session for Mahathir with Dubya. I don’t know if it did anything to improve Mahathir’s image then but that was a lot of money for a government to pay to make its PM look better. A botox treatment would have been cheaper.

To me, what came through the article was how Mahathir was perceived to be anti-semitic. No reason to question the accuracy of that perception, as he certainly gave everyone very good reasons to think that. That image has stuck. He is now a recognised anti-semitic.

The irony? Abramoff is a Jew – and he was paid plenty of money by an anti-semitic in a business deal. I guess if one chooses to worship the almighty dollar, there can be no other gods besides USD.

Money does really motivate people. It may not be the most important thing to many, but it is the reason why most people do what they do. I guess they enjoy their tasks along the way. Yesterday on radio, someone recounted how a newly promoted School Assistant Principal lasted 1 week in her job. She quit after 1 week, when she won a lottery worth $15 million. I guess money was the reason she was an Assistant School Principal. Otherwise, what has winning the lottery got to do with her continuing on with her job?

I wonder how many people would continue doing what they have been doing if they win the lottery. I think I will go and buy a ticket. There’s a big draw coming up this Saturday – saw the ads for it. $19 million, I think.