Birthday

Start:

Jan 7, '06 03:00a

can this be happening? this is going to be the last birthday in my twenties. *stunned*

Wedding Anniversary

Start:

Dec 20, '06 10:00a

We turn 3!

Siem Reap 2002

kok lanta.jpg 2006-12-19

It was amazing trip where we snaked our way up to Angkor Wat from Singapore via Kota Bahru-Hatyai-Krabi-Bangkok-Aranyaprathet-Poi Pet-Siem Reap and back to Bangkok via rickety buses and vans and trucks. I spoke my way though the immigrations and pass off as a khon thai and then got chased down cos they thought we had fake passports. We crossed 3 country borders on foot along the way - i get such cheap thrill straddling two countries at the same time.

Cambodia was a very humbling experience. The sight of poverty and maimed individuals sangat-sangat menginsafkan. We looked for a mosque, and found it. Ada pakcik boleh bertutur dalam bahasa Khmer-accented Melayu, and he recounted to us how the Muslims suffered under the Khmer Rouge. The mosque was forcibly turned into a pig-farm under Pol Pot, spelling death to non-conformist.

Angkor Wat was magnificentas a cultural and architectural and engineering wonder. I tried to transport myself back to the Jayavarman Era when the Khmer civilisation was at its peak (while Europe was in the Dark Ages). And then there were the pock-marks caused by bullets and bombs incurred by the Khmer Rouge.

We went home only when we ran out of cash. Flew back to Singapore sebab very tired playing Lara Croft - Tomb Raider.

Awesome trip. I have no idea when I'll ever do it again. Maybe never. But I thank Gorgeous Inc, and Farheen Salma Raudhah (earlier leg of the route) for the fantastic company and wonderful memories.

These Last Few Days

on the way to the MRT station me and Ilhan walked past the dead brown grass patches left by the 2-week-long pasar malam.

Ilhan: Ibu tu apa? (he's been incredibly curious lately, always asking 'Bunyi apa tu" or "Buat apa tu?" or "Masak apa tu"?)

Me: Itu rumput dah mati, Sebab tu dia warna brown. Rumput hidup warna hijau. Rumput ni semua dah mati.

Ilhan: Siapa tembak dia?

Me: Err....

i see The Age of Unanswerable Questions has begun. *smiles*

the Husband's due home 8pm tomorrow. Ilhan's at his nenek's and i spent last night packing (but somehow ending up with a messier room). few days back i've cleared my wardrobe and done the 'Clothes to Bring' and in that pile, another 'Clothes to Really Bring' sorting. so last night i did the same to Ilhan's. feeling so sentimentel and poignant as i was doing the packing. like it all seems so...final.

so i've loosely packed clothes, toiletries, loose stuff. loosely meaning setting them aside in mini packs. the real stuffing into the suitcases will be done in about a week's time.

mentally running through a mental checklist of Things I Have To Do Before I Leave. trust me to leave it all to the last minute before i start running around like a headless chicken.

i managed a couple of aufwiedersehens these past 2 weeks.

Aufwiedersehen Nummer Zwei

turi beach laziness with marina and nani.

Aufwiedersehen Nummer Drei

met sumarni, suzanah and salma for a Babes and Mak Babes Outing at the nice and new Botanical Gardens. kinda riotous with babes and toddler and strollers in tow.

Aufwiedersehen Nummer Vier

met up with the NUS babes last night where i did not see what's so great about Ayam Penyet and i almost felt ill at ease in the beginning cos i felt so removed from them. but as the night progressed we settled into our comfortable familiarity and i was glad to meet Haley again after so so long. i kinda admire her. taking the totally unconventional route from everyone else. she's one person with wild dreams and she actually makes them happen. like her very advanced Spanish, going solo to Spain twice (and Mexico this coming May), learning German on top of that, with Fench and Arabic in the pipeline.

Aufwiedersehen Nummer Sechs

met EeVa for lunch after so so long. instantly reconnected, and we slipped back into our comfortable familiarity. it was good.

Continuous Aufwiedersehen

hehe..this one's with salma and nani and our 4-times weekly hikes up Bt Timah. you don't think i'd let all those indulgent aufwiedersehens sit and rest at my hips and butts, do you? i've been working them off diligently with 2-hr hikes up down the hill, feeling comfortably familiar with the experience. i miss climbing.

ok, so that's about it.

 

 

lost a Ting and found a house

house-hunting's never easy is it? real or virtual. for the past 2 months we have been vigilantly scrutinising property sites online daily in case something suitable crops out. it came to a point where i can rattle off to you perth suburbs and locations. our modus operandi is this : i'd spot something, alert The Husband, he'll do a recce and drivepast, if it's nice he'll fix a viewing with the agent, and if it's nice and ok he'll submit an application.

problem is, this modus operandi is still not efficient enough bcos scores of people will beat us to it and it's no point joining an application queue 20 people long. and so The Husband suggested a strategy - checking out photo-less advertised properties since these probably attract lesser interest.

and so after about 2 months of house hunting, we finally got hold of this 'neat and tidy two bedroom one bathroom villa in a small quiet complex. Separate lounge and dining, spacious kitchen with plenty of storage and electric appliances. Single carport and rear private courtyard. Sorry no pets.'  in Noranda (yup, forget about getting anywhere around the uni area where the prices are all jacked up). the rent's slightly more than our budget but what to do. at least it has a teeny-weeny courtyard and it's on the ground and it's near a nature reserve. alhamdullillah. oh, and i think it's rather close to the Morley Galleria. if all else fails at least a mall will give me a sense of familiarity. heh!

now everything seems eerily real, and we only have about 3 more weeks to go. *wince*.

ona  separate note, it's been about a week without Mr Ting and Ilhan has only occasionally used that hopeful "Nanti ibu bayar An-an Ting bayu kat kudai ok?". and he's been saying "Nanti ibu bayar An-an aiskrim green ok?" daily. don't ask me why green ice-cream, but an ice-cream cone a day's fine with me. my poor son seems to be undergoing some kind of withdrawal syndrome...hehe. he's been going to sleep without it as i distract him with a recount of the day and the daily doa. sometimes he'll wake up thrashing in the middle of the night but pok pok a bit and he'll get back to sleep.

well...so far so good. i hope by the time we leave there would have been an amicable separation with Mr Ting. that will leave us both with more will and energy to tackle our next project come 2007 - Project Runaway Diapers (also known as Project Bye-Bye Diapers)

did The Husband mention that our new home is carpeted through out?

oh dear.

I succumbed.

I *am trying* to wean Ilhan off the pacifier. With little success. He’s not a heavy-user; together with the bantal busuk a.k.a Bambam, he calls this duo TingBamBam. TingBamBam is like ebony and ivory or irama dan lagu and the absence of either will result in rather unpleasant bedtime encounters. The Bambam half is rather tolerable - after all, I know of individuals who are closet BamBam users well into adulthood. But the Ting part is rather unsightly and I’m not looking forward to spending money on braces later on.

So anyway, in a fit of tantrum on Saturday, Ilhan threw Ting and it went missing,. And since he knew it was him who caused its disappearance, he’s somewhat redha about it (haha!). every time he asked for Ting, I reminded him that he threw it away. And strangely he seemed fine with it. He did suggest:

“Nanti ibu bayar ting bayu tau“ (he confuses bayar with beli)

“Nak beli yang baru? Kat mana?”

“Kat kudai ah“

He went through 2 Tingless nights rather well. But erm…for today’s afternoon nap he snapped and cried for an eternity and I succumbed. Don’t ask me why. *sigh*. But we did make a deal. Ting only for naptime and bedtime.

I’m weak. I know.

These past 2 weeks too, I’m going babysitter-less since dah tutup account dengan Cik Ani on 31^st November. It’s like a sneak-peek into the SAHM life that I’ll be plunging into…wait..it’s already begun! And I’m ashamed to admit that I’m really lousy at it. I’m not sure what it should be like - do I structure every minute? Must every activity be value-added? Is TV ok? Right now it’s wake up-bathe-breakfast-Kids Central/play-lunch-nap-play/books/tv-bathe-tv/books/play/bedtime. Play here is basically his blocks, crayon-drawing, Hot Wheels, Power Rangers, Bob the Builder set, tembak and arrows (ChiChi the moving target) etc. There’s the occasional swimming and going to the mall.

I must be the most boring mother ever. The other day his grandparents ajak pergi East Coast and he said “Tak nak lah…nak tengok tv”. ditto when farhan

Been surfing around for play ideas and playgroups in perth and I resolve to be more organized, involved, resourceful and fun come January.

The Day We Turned Pele Groupies

with zarifah, yati and dave at the table-tennis zone.

What a day. I got into the staffroom like 5 seconds late. He was already there, surrounded by paparazzi, most of them self-appointed SSS staff..haha. After a short corporate video he was brought on a tour around the campus, while us groupies moved fast to always be a venue ahead of him. Spotted a few former national footballers, from the glorious Malaysia Cup days. Such adrenaline rush, this celeb-chasing. How do those K-Pop, J-Pop, Mando-Pop, boybands teenage groupies do it?

Guess who's dropping by on Monday? Clue: He's Brazilian.

a fortnight ago we had Victor Saneev, USSR's gold medallist jumper for 3 consecutive

Olympics in the 70's, staying with us for a week and giving tips to our kids.

this monday, we'll have him dropping by. Edson Arantes do Nascimento.

otherwise known as Pele :) *screams*

aufwiedersehen nummer eins

had a farewell breakfast this morning, to say goodbye to me, Sufen and Alan who won't be around next year. Alan will be heading back to Kiwiland, I'll be Down Under while Sufen...well...for some reason she'll going back to The Establishment. anyhow, Roger ended the memorial service (haha!) with a touching Irish farewell poem which is quite poignant.

and so we had to say a few words, so i thanked them for a year which has been a wonderful year of discovery, realisation and experiment. tee hee hee...read deeper into it if you will :)

and so i got this as a farewell gift, which is brilliant since i literally have to summarise me and ilhan into 3 suitcases. thanks!

A sneak peek at my Creative Mess and Organised Chaos :)

 

 

 

Confessions of a Cikgu Melayu (warning: long)

It’s Special Week this week with each day being a subject day and I had a wonderful time just now. We had Nuradee who brought in traditional instruments, and an impromptu jamming of sorts. I asked Nuradee if they could please please please sing Ke Makam Bonda for me, which they did, along with Tekad and the kids’ (weird)requests of the MUIS theme song for Zakat and that show on the underprivileged zakat recipients ‘Kau Istimewa’.

 

Being the jocks that they are, these kids can be rather myopic when it comes to the finer side of life – music (except the mtv trash/mat emo stuff they are weaned on) and poetry. I passed around copies of Usman Awang’s classic poem Ke Makam Bonda to a chorus of groans, and HA! They shut up when Nuradee brought the poem to life. Amik kau! Ternganga.

 

And I had that feeling I had when I did these kind of stuff at BP, you know, seeing the wonder in kids’ eyes and their jaws dropping in awe at discovering something new. At the risk of sounding like the poster-child for MOE, that is the (only) reward for teaching that I crave for. And it’s something that I’ve not gotten here where I am for a long time.

 

Which brings me to the issue which I’ve been mulling over for the past 2 years. At the risk of raising the ire of fellow cikgu melayus, I wonder if I should say this out loud. I hate being a cikgu melayu.

 

I was inspired enough by Dr Hadijah Rahmat to set out, very ra ra about nurturing this love for the language et cetera. Never mind that I majored in something else and could be teaching something else but was channeled here due to manpower needs. This ra ra va va voom got me going for the first 3 years at BP when I had the almost perfect combination of management, colleagues and most importantly, students.

 

When it felt like I was losing my mojo last year, I thought a change of environment would do me good. Hence I skipped over here, hoping the independent system and the promise of disciplined students (an oxymoron, that!) would be an interesting environment. One where I could just teach, sans the usual titik-bengik nonsense so characteristic of the civil service.

 

True enough, this place is La La Land for teachers; there's the visionary Yoda of a principal, the no-hierarchy-everyone-goes-by-first-names non-structure, amazing infrastructure, generous-funds–we-can-play-around-in-so-many-way-with (whether it’s going on study trips to the Microsoft High School of the Future in Philadelphia or Legoland in Denmark – for learning – or taking a postgrad degree or anything), the wonderful hours, very dedicated team of colleagues, etc.

 

But alas, you can’t have it all, can you? Because the most important factor in the equation is rather odd. Coming here required a massive paradigm shift, something I’m still grappling with.

 

The kids seem to operate with this structure in their mind; top of the list are their coaches, then their managers, and somewhere at the bottom are well…us teachers. Coaches teach them how to perform better, managers decide on their overseas trips and competitions, while teachers…well…just teach. Since I figured out this unspoken hierarchy among the students, I sort of understand the attitude. 

 

Example. N spotted the right questions for the ‘O’ level papers (not ML, but an ‘important’ subject). She received a flood of sms-es from her former pupils in a neighbourhood school thanking her for the tip and guidance. Here? Zilch. She had to ask them how it was, to which they shrugged and said ‘yeah, it was ok, familiar, can answer’. Notice no thanks, no appreciation. It’s as if everything is a race; if they were first in the sprint, they have themselves to thank, for it is them who ran the race. Not anybody else. Coaches might coach, but they ran.

 

This I-ism or Me-mentality seems to spill onto every other aspect of their lives.

 

It’s disturbing, as a teacher. But wait. Add ‘malay teacher’ or ‘subject: malay language’ to the equation and you get an even bleak-er picture.

 

Alah..Malay…tak important/significant (from the students’ point of view. It gets on my nerves..like malay what? Malay food? Malay clothes? They can’t even say ‘bahasa melayu’)

 

Ok, so I get that from one hand.

 

On the other hand, as a cikgu melayu you are also entitled to the following benefits:

 

1)       you are assumed to be of only certain capabilities

2)       you are relegated to taking care of malay dance/malay this/malay that (i do like these things, and i did start and 'manage' a gamelan group, but i hate being stereotyped)

3)       you miss out on being in some committees because they assume you don’t know anything about other fields (like outdoor activities/expeditions etc, things not malay)

4)       you get gasps of admiration when you speak English (oh please, as in normal proper English, not as if it’s BBC or Queen’s English or something)

5)       realizing you speak better English than your HOD

6)       you are left out of ‘discussion clubs’ or ‘discuss-movies-and-books-club’

7)       you are basically on your own.

 

Wonderful, isn’t it? Who wouldn’t want all these perks?

 

I'm thankful for the upcoming few-years hiatus coming up soon. perhaps i can think deeper into what is it that i would really like to do.

 

excuse me while i go lick my wounds.

The Kite Runner

Rating:	★★★★★
Category:	Books
Genre:	Reference
Author:	Khaled Hosseini

Finally found this cover of the edition which I have. I love this cover because i imagine it to be either Amir or Hassan, sort of add flesh and skin to the character. Lots of people have posted reviews on it, and it is as brilliant as it sounds.

My curiousity and interest in the country and people was piqued after the read. In my current state of mental degeneration, this book was an eye-opener and pushed me to find out more about Afghanistan, the Hazaras and of course, the Taliban.

of course, it's almost impossible to get objective information on the Talibans. every information I come across is biased for or against them. Khaled Hosseini's perspective should also be taken with a pinch of salt. did the Talibans really engage in those unspeakable acts? the Hazara massacres mentioned in the book did occur in 1998-1999, so that much they were certainly capable of.

brilliant piece of story-telling.

Ada Apa Dengan Cinta

Rating:	★★★★★
Category:	Movies
Genre:	Other

I know, this movie came out way back in 2002. I know I've watched it like at least 10 times and you know what, I can watch it again and again.

I know, the cast are all spectacular looking, and it features the top strata of Indonesia society. I know the high-school kids in the movie are all unrealistically dressed and their school-life is unrealistic and all. I know it's not representative of real Indonesian society, yada yada yada.

But still, i deem it compulsory-watching for all my classes (so I can watch it over and over and over again muahahahaha). And I squeeze the movie for all it's worth to craft lessons on:

1) friendship
2) discussion on something that you regret
3) discussion on how friends shouldn't be taken for granted
4) discussion on child abuse
5) discussion on the value of literature (higher order stuff based on Rangga's poems).

BUT, the real reasons i love watching it for the gazillionth time is because watching it brings me back to:
1) those sweet old days of secondary school
2) all those 'i can't stand that guy' feeling
3) those days of crushes
4) that 'i think i'm in love' feeling
5) those first dates
6) those long walks after those first dates to prolong afore-mentioned dates
7) that sense of belonging to a group of girlfriends
8) traipsing down the school corridors with afore-mentioned group of girlfriends

Brilliant sound-track by Melly Goeslaw, sweet eye-candy, and intelligent script. many references to classic pieces of Indonesian literature like Sjumanjaya and Chairil Anwar,

Cinta quoted an old poem by Chairil Anwar to describe her restless state and insomnia:

"Aku enggak bisa tidur.
Orang ngomong.
Anjing gonggong."

Rangga's thoughts on his self-imposed state of isolation:

"Ku lari ke hutan kemudian menyanyiku
Ku lari ke pantai kemudian teriakku
Sepi...sepi..and sendiri aku benci
Aku ingin bingar...aku mau di pasar
Bosan aku dengan penat
Dan nyah saja kau pekat
Seperti berjelaga jika ku sendiri."

appeals to the candy-floss era of teenhood school-life and the appreciation of pre-independence indonesian literature.

How Do You Raise a Bilingual Kid?

As the date draws near, the MIL suggests having Ilhan sleepover on weekends, which is fine with me since I have that features writing course for the next eight Saturdays. Surprisingly, it was easy prising Ilhan away from me. He seemed understanding when I told him I needed to go to ‘work’ and he said “OK” and ‘pomised’ to be a good boy, which he was, apart from charming his atok-nenek with his vocabulary prowess.

 

Eg1: When passing by that Eunos road where a lot of car showrooms are:

“Banyak cars bayu.”           

*Hmm….how did he know that? He’s never consciously passed that road before, neither has he been explained that those are car showrooms*

 

Eg2: When following atok-nenek jalan raya and politely refusing to accept duit raya:

“Tak nak. An-an dah ada banyak.”           

*Baik betul budak ni*

 

Eg3: When in the back-seat with 2 cousins, clowning and kidding around and laughing sampai terbatuk-batuk.

Nenek (front seat): Duduk diam-diam, nanti ketawa banyak-banyak, batuk-batuk muntah, baju kotor.

Ilhan: Tukar baju bayu, ah. Ada tau.   

*speechless*

 

Eg4: When asked mana Yoyot? (his late great-grandfather who passed away 3 weeks ago)

“Yoyot ninggal”

*no one taught him this word, he seemed to have picked it up from adult conversations*

 

Being in my line, I’ve seen too many Malay kids not being able to speak decent Malay, be it the oh-i-not-melayu type, the i-think-I’m-intellectual type, or the mat-bola type. Even among friends, there are those who pseudo-lament “Oh anak I tak tahu cakap Melayu, lah” as they recount how their parents mencacau cakap omputeh bila nak berbual dengan cucu sendiri.

 

Based on experience, it’s sad seeing how these kids are strangers to their own language, with all the intangible value, weltanschauung and heritage attached to it. Sometimes I feel like I and them come from different worlds altogether. I mean, I’ve never met kids who roll their eyes and whip out a book to read under the table when shown P.Ramlee classics (not heavy duty stuff, just the Bujang Lapok series), and who don’t find the Bujang Lapok series the least bit funny. Try menyindir using peribahasa and it just go over their heads altogether (I miss the BP days when I could spar with the kids using peribahasa and we’d keep score).

 

I’m rather paranoid about Ilhan not speaking in his mother tongue, which is why I’m proud to say he’s a Malay-speaking kid. Ok, so most of his nouns are mostly in English (dog, cat, car, train etc) but his verbs are mostly Malay and so are his sentences. At the same time I also feel a twinge of guilt and wonder too if I’m not giving him a headstart in English. Should I practice that one parent-one language approach, or will he learn English through his environment?

 

Currently:

Daily conversations and communication   : Malay

Barney/High-5/Cartoons (basically tv)       : English

Reading                                                 : English, followed by explanation in Malay    

                     

I was thinking especially since we’ll be living in Down Under in his formative years and he’ll be going to playgroup and kindy there, he’ll absorb the English Language like a sponge, right? So I should continue the Malay drilling at home. Right?

 

I remember Aajarn Titima’s experiment. When she had Nong Kwan, she spoke to him only in Thai, while his Israeli dad spoke to him only in Hebrew. As they were living in Hawaii that time, he naturally picked up English from his environment and voila! You have an effectively trilingual kid who’s not deprived of his linguistic heritage.

 

What do you think?

aspire today, inspire tomorrow

What do you do when your school grounds is being spruced up for the Asian Games and you still want to carry on with training and lessons? Plus, you have lots of cash.

 

Why, you fly the kids and teachers and coaches over to another school of course.

 

We now have this group of about a hundred from the Qatar Aspire Sports School (whose school motto is the title of this entry) with us for about a month studying and training here. The students and teachers come mostly from the Middle-East and African region, and it’s really an eye-opener for our kids. Literally vice-versa too, I guess, given the fact that theirs is an-all boys’ academy and them seeing singlet-shorts-clad females for the first time. As told by 2 of my students who went over to Qatar in July, these boys "tak tinggal sembahyang, cikgu" ; even half-time during matches are longer to accommodate prayer times.

 

“Habis, kat sana awak sembahyang?”

 

“Tak, kita tengok aje.”

 

Hmm…baguslah tu. Maybe our budak bola can learn a thing or two from them.

 

 

the obligatory Raya post

ok, so everyone's writing about their wonderful Raya. Salam Aidilfitri all.

well that came with as much verve and va va voom as a cardboad. *shakes herself out of stupor* heh. well, had a one-week break the week before Raya (beautiful thing about a different school calendar), and a comatose Acer Aspire at home, hence no updates.

Ilhan fell sick with viral fever on eve of Deepavali, and it came with the whole works - 39 deg fever, wracking cough (trust me, it's heartbreaking to see a 2-yr old bend double coughing out stubborn phlegm. he almost seem asthmatic), runny nose, vomiting, diarrhoea. he hasn't been eating since then - and today's Day 6. i kid you not. he has not eaten a morsel of solid food for like 5 days. i bathe him and it breaks my heart to see his bones the 2 tulang belikat) jutting out like a famished kid.

and when he's sick he's clingy and whiny and i feel so sorry for him. Hari Raya pertama we had kenduri tahlil at FIL's side of the family, and everyone said he looked thin, "Dia rindu bapak dia tu..kesian dia.." *dalam hati* ==> Memang betul, cik..bukan dia je yang rindu bapak dia, saya pun....boo hooo hoooo.

the husband had a practical test on Aidilfitri eve and a mid-term at 1pm on Aidilfitri itself. oh alangkah sedihnya bila takbir bergema.

and of course, when Ilhan falls sick, i do too. sebab kita "berpijak di tanah yang sama, bernafas udara yang sama" to quote Gusti Putri Raden Adjeng Retno Dumilah aka Puteri Gunung Ledang.

By the way, don't you think the PGL Musical is way overpriced? i think it is. ridiculously. way too much money to pay to watch a bunch of ladies berkemban.

where was i? right. sick. now i down with flu too, tetapi tepaksa gagahkan diri back to school today after 2 days of MC (for Ilhan, not me) cos the sec 3HMLs are will be taking their 'O' ML paper on monday, and i need to give that extra kick on their back (to put it very mildly).

tu lah dia cerita Raya saya. alhamdullillah Ilhan looks better yesterday evening, and i hope Mr Bad Virus disappears by today.

forgive the entry. Salam Aidilfiri semua. alhamdullillah for Ramadhan.

My Sister's Keeper

Rating:	★★★★★
Category:	Books
Genre:	Other
Author:	Jodi Picoult

First saw this book at perth Borders in june, but hard to browse through books when you have a stroller holding a cranky toddler at hand. But Nani read my mind and got it as a very belated birthday gift (thanks lah-ling...will pass it yo you to read soon!)

I was drawn by the cover. At first i thought it was some chick-flick, but that's so far removed from the truth.

REVIEW BY ALLISON BLOCK

Most people spend their lives seeking to understand the purpose of their existence. Thirteen-year-old Anna Fitzgerald, the protagonist, has never for a moment questioned hers: she is the genetically perfect "match" brought into the world to keep her leukemia-stricken sister Kate alive. Physically and emotionally depleted from life in the shadow of her sibling's illness, the strong-willed Anna lashes back at the parents who conceived her out of desperation, not desire—she sues them for the medical rights to her own body.

Alternately narrated by each of its major characters, My Sister's Keeper revolves around Anna and the life-altering consequences of her very adult decision. As the novel begins, the courageous teenager enlists the legal assistance of Campbell Alexander—a relentless cynic known for suing God—who soon serves the subpoena that splinters the Fitzgerald family. Mother Sara, who gave up her law practice to render round-the-clock care to Kate, comes to her dying daughter's defense, while husband Brian sides with Anna.

With the trial date drawing near, and Kate on the verge of kidney failure, Anna teeters on an emotional tightrope. How can she reject the person who has defined her from day one? At the hospital, Anna climbs into Kate's bed and rests her head on her chest: "I didn't come to see Kate because it would make me feel better," she says. "I came because without her, it's hard to remember who I am."

Hope and heartbreak fill the pages of My Sister's Keeper, which Picoult describes as a sort of Sophie's Choice for the new millennium. "If you use one of your children to save the life of another," the author asks, "are you being a good mother . . . or a very bad one?" Blending science, philosophy, morality and ethics, this is a thought-provoking thriller that grips and won't let go.

********************************************************************************************************************
truly absorbing. i love this quote by Jesse, the pyromanic, delinquent and sadly neglected 18-yr old brother:

"Don't mess with the system, Anna," he says bitterly. "We've all got our scripts down pat. Kate plays the Martyr. I'm the Lost Cause. And you, you're the Peacekeeper."

i love the way each chapter is told from the point of view of different characters. you get under their skin, and see the whole issue from their points of view.

really. go read. be prepared for the ending though. don't try to sneak-peek. you'll hate yourself for it.

Hang Kebun Dengan Datuknya

Petang-petang Ilhan suka tolong atok kasi pokok-pokok minum air. Tapi atok kata Ilhan siram air banyak sangat sampai tersedak pokok tu. Mungkin nanti bila kita dah pindah Perth Ilhan boleh tolong ibu tanam dan jaga pokok dari benih.

Ilhan up and about

this one's at Zurina and Shidi's place near Mirrabooka.

some random photos of Ilhan Harith doing his usual stuff.

the truth is

Today marks the last ten night of Ramadhan. Magical nights. It sure felt that way those times long ago when I did qiyam. Doing it with your closest friends, with then Imam’s readings and du’a, somehow you get engulfed in this consuming sense of humility and shukur. And love. Love for the Creator and for mankind and feeling shukur for all He has given, and knowing He is these watching every step of your way.

 

I think this year, I have been given the privilege to do qiyam again. Ilhan’s turned 2 (3 days ago on 10^th October, to be exact. However I guess I’m not the typical camera-snapping blogging mum, and find much difficulty in expressing what I feel for him in public domain, hence it was a very personal family affair) and he sleeps through the night now, so I guess I could slip out and return before he awakes.

 

Truth is I miss B terribly. Very terribly. I feel sad thinking about him spending Ramadhan alone there, handling sahur and buka for himself. And making Nescafe for himself. Initially the thought of a slight liberation -- being able to go out with friends while Ilhan stays with his Nenek -- is cool, but then I realized, he is my best friend. And I want to go out, go JB, go al-ameen, go midnite movies, talk nonsense, with him. I miss him terribly.

 

And Ilhan. The first few months was quite sad. Like Aai said, the emotion of ‘missing’ is too big for a 20-mth old (then) and he doesn’t quite know how to verbalise/express it. So it comes out in the form of his crush for his Pak Ngah, the new male figure in the family. It was always Pak Ngah-this and Pak Ngah-that and “nak makan dengan Pak Ngah” or “nak dodok dengan Pak Ngah”. Worst – every time the Suhaimi Yusoff “Yuk Pergi Hong Kong” ad comes on, he’ll shout “Baba!”

 

He clams up every time anyone asks, “Ilhan, mana Baba?”

 

Staying with my parents’ now is great. Ilhan gets valuable and educational company (my mum’s a dedicated librarian, so she brings back lots of resources and talks and sings to him); his social and verbal skills seem to have grown exponentially these few months. My brother’s a nurse, and is a HUGE help with fevers and when Ilhan’s fingers/toes “bayayah” cos I squirm at the sight of blood. My dad teaches Ilhan about plants and watering and pruning with his mini-nursery outside. And aai…hmm…..ok so angah gives respite once in a while, right angah? Haha.

 

I’m so going to miss all these when I leave; this network of family support. But I also want to be with my husband and embark on the next phase of our lives. Very exciting, yet very scary phase. how do those of you who have done it, do it?

 

Alhamdullillah for Ramadhan.

 

The 2 boys in my life.

du'a of a fasting person

Once Musa (AS) asked Allah Taala:

O Allah ! you have granted me the honour and privilege of talking to you directly. Have you given this privilege to any other person?

Allah Taala replied, "O Musa during the last period I am going to send an ummat, who will be the Ummat of Mohammed (SAW) with dry lips , parched tongues, emaciated body with eyes sunken deep into their sockets, with livers dry and stomachs suffering the pangs of hunger- will call out to me (in dua) they will be much much closer to me than you O Musa!

"While you speak to me there are 70000 veils between you and me but at the time of iftaar there will not be a single veil between me and the fasting Ummati of Mohammed (SAW) O musa I have taken upon myself the responsibility that at the time of iftaar I will never refuse the dua of a fasting person!

tell me something i don't already know

i dragged my self to the 'PM dialogue session with young singaporeans' on saturday. took a bus there, and rediscovered 2 loves you can do on the bus - listen to mp3 and read a book. *oh did i mention i couldn't resist the $39 creative muvo? this old dino figured what-the-heck..can use it to store stock of malay songs when she's in mat-salleh land*

only i got nauseous and couldn't continue reading. it's been that long.

i timed myself to be late and i was glad i did. after going thru the metal detector stuff and all i went down and saw what i expected to see. the programme states '4-5pm: tea and networking session'. i knew exactly what it meant and i hate it. it means standing around daintily sipping tea/coffee while making 'friends'. *makes a face*  most of them look like a decade younger than me, and they seem to be discussing important stuff. i feel like a Tattler reject so i slunked to the corners and spent the the remaining 10 minutes observing the desserts. good stuff. but i'll pass since i hate eating alone.

sat myself at an inconspicuous corner, and a girl came sat next to me. a teacher/Young Changemaker (some NYC scheme). *chuckles*. smiles and introduction. she religiously takes down notes through out the discussion.

on the whole, i felt the questions posed were so obvious, as with the answers. like a girl who said she was from a chinese background - nanyang, hwa chong only in nus did she meet and make non-chinese friends. "So, PM, what are we doing to tackle this issue?" . how outdated is this girl? politically-correct joint-activities promoting racial harmony between these elite schools and neighbourhood schools have already been splashed across the papers all these while (you know, like malay kids from XYZ Sec teaching chinese high boys dikir barat while chinese high boys teach them something else kind of thing) and here she is asking stupid questions.

and questions about O.B markers. now why wasn't i surprised when the PM glazed over the issue instead of answering it? to the kakak-fairring asking when we can get tempat sembahyang at the work-place, here's my interpretation of the official answer. we are a secular state, how you practise your religion at home is your problem, but at the public space we must uphold justice and equality.

one good question came from a hearing-impaired guy who asked a real question about the plight of the handicapped. again, a general answer.

i guess this whole song-and-dance routine is just for them to get a sense of what the young feel at the ground level.

the dinner reception after that was again, a stand-up thing. this time i wasn't shy in helping myself to a plate of marvellous food (must be expensive; the ang moh chef came out once in a while to check on the food). but i gotta hurry. my girl-next-seat was engaged in deep conversation with that Faishal MP guy. i didn't feel like striking up polite small talk with anyone. thank goodness Imad was still next door at The Adelphi clearing work and sms-ed me an offer of a ride home. i was out of there in 5 minutes.

talking with Imad is quite a stressful affair. as a very community-involved dpp he's a perfect candidate for the next round of G.E.  he diagnosed my sense of profound apathy as understandable considering my current social milieu. erm..ok...i steered the conversation away to more banal stuff, like has he watched the devil wears prada. ha.

so when i got home around 7:50pm, my 'social milieu' greeted me with python-hug and a heart-stopping "Iiiiiiibuuuuuuuuuuuuuu'" at the door. "An-an anggil ibu...IIIIBBBBuuuuu! IIIIBBBbbbuuu!!" so he reported his reaction to me missing for those 5 hours.

i like my current social milleu just fine. :)

 

ilhan dengan members.avi

Ilhan playing with the big boys. So the kids are all at least 3 years older than him (except for Fathu), but to this mamat age is just a number. They are really nice to him; but of course, the ball they play with is his, so that sort of gives him leverage. They let him have a go at the ball when he feels like it; "Let Harith kick the ball, it's his" (or was it because his mommy was there?) and cheered wildly like it's the goal of the season. But most of the time he and Fathu plays with his Thomas and Gordon (the train engines).

It's hilarious seeing how they communicate; the boys call him 'Harith' and talk to him like he understands while he goes "Abang..nak ball!"

Please forgive and ignore the overbearing background voice. It's mine.

The Great Aussie Cook-Out

salad and juicy steaks

It was the night I got to taste Nadia's and Natasha's fantastic cooking. They made lamb roast, juicy steaks, cheesy potato salad, and other good stuff seem as easy as masak-masak. Got to meet some people, and Ilhan was at his entertaining best, in a Superman suit no less. His dad and the guys think it's great being 2.

karma chameleon

the boys whipped VS 9-0 in the National Finals. it was such an entertaining match, Syafiq was magic while Ali was brilliant. all my boys out there *beams like mother hen*. ok so you see my soccer vocabulary's not that great, but you can read about their feat in yesterday's Straits Times here http://www.sportsschool.edu.sg/legal/sss/wcm/SSS/Resources/ne22006/SSwhipV90infinals_300806.pdf

sure, people say "You guys SSS what!" ok fine. so sometimes we are seen as Public Enemy No. 1 in the schools sports scene, we win, they hate us, if we (ever) lose...well, we've never so far. but i see a different purpose with these kids. you see, the way i see, sports saves some of them. some of them seem like the kind who'd probably get into trouble if they are in mainstream school -- play truant, lose out in the study race -- the whole package which usually ends with dropping out and all. but being here, being in boarding and being watched hawk-eyed by coaches, managers, teachers keep them in line.

and it gives some of them this sense of purpose; that they are good, much better than others at something. ok so i gotta rattle and shake Syafiq and Farhan when they doze off like a gazillion times in class (kalau aku kuat aku dah lambung keluar tingkap), and it's a challenge teaching them things my previous students would normally lap up. but that's how they develop me as a teacher.

i remember the time the whole team dropped to their knees and cried when the final whistle blew in their Man U Nike Cup final match against India. it was the Asian leg of the tournament and the champions get to represent Asia at Old Trafford. an ultimate dream for all boys i guess, so it broke their hearts.

oh well, really hope they go on to bigger things.

on another note, we had Ultimate 80's The Musical just now. such a riot! *hoots* i didn't know that that Boy George song was "karma karma karma karma chameleon" ? i thought it was "come ah come ah come ah come ah camelia"!

now i know.

but Karma Chameleon? what branch of new age philosophy is that?

it's a phase & 80'an gerek

ilhan seems to have left behind his trinity of Barney-Bananas-in-Pajamas-Elmo and somehow moved on to 'PANTEN!', which is what he calls robots/power rangers/transformers. he's also into excavators and cranes, thanks to BoBede (Bob The Builder). i can't seem to figure out the semantics and etymology of the word  'panten' - how did this word come about? *scratch* *scratch* closest i could think of perhaps 'fighting'? what a word to learn at this age. but where did he learn it from? certainly not from home. hmmmm...... probably from his babysitters' kids.

so anyway, before Ilhan i was like all moralistic and decreed that no child of mine shall get sucked into these violent cartoon/fighting stuff like Power Ranger/Justiriser/Gransazers and like-minded friends. you know lah, we came those days of wholesome Care Bears, sweet Little Ponies and harmless Smurfs. so there, no fighting stuff.

but here i am finding myself on the hunt for some Power Ranger figurines and some transformable creature (you know, truck bukak bukak bukak jadi robot). such dizzying array of creatures and blardy expensive, may i add. why did i succumb? tell me how not to. haha. especially since we are getting on a flight again on thursday and i need to distract Ilhan lest he had enough of The Three Little Kittens and The Magic Porridge Pot (fav books of the month).

anyway, this thursday we supposed to come to school dressed in 80's fashion. i suppose i'm excused, since i was only in kindergarten-primary sch in the 80's? but colleagues so on about it, some wearing their fomer school u - those from branded schools, of course.

but what to wear? so orbit right? i remember big hair, garish make-up, spandex and pants/skirts up to your armpits. and hijab 80's style lagi orbit and tak-style - think Cikgu Bedah. hmm...tak payah lah eh.

ajaran sesat

Ujian Peribahasa Modul 5-6

ARAHAN: Lengkapkan peribahasa-peribahasa berikut.

1.   _________    _________  nyaring bunyinya.

 

2.   Pipit ________  makan __________.

 

3.  Bodoh-bodoh _______ tiada _________  __________  _________

 

4. Kalau tiada ________, belalang menjadi __________.

 

5. Takut ________ lalu ___________.

 

6. ___________   _____________  berat perut

amacam? boleh buat? :)

masa dah tamat. sila lihat jawapan di bawah. maknanya fikirkanlah sendiri.

Tong kosong nyaring bunyinya

Pipit lapar makan berhujan

Bodoh-bodoh sepat tiada makan pancing emas

Kalau tiada helang, belalang menjadi helang

Takut titik lalu tumpah

Ringan tulang berat perut

BUT here are some gems that some monkeys came up with:

Pontianak mengilai nyaring bunyinya

Pipit lapar makan katak

Bodoh2 sepat tiada benda boleh menipunya

Bodoh2 sepat tiada manusia mahu menangkapnya.

Kalau tiada nasi, belalang menjadi santapan

Takut kalah lalu jalan

Takut mati lalu lari

Saya sangat berat perut

 

wakakakakakakakaka!!! crack betul! i figured they must be hungry while they took this test. and to their credit, they weren't wilfully trying to be funny - they had the decency to leave blank what they didn't know. surprisingly, those who creatively came up with the above were the goody ones who must have wracked their brains in ernestness.

 

ini bukan kes cikgu kencing berdiri, murid kencing berlari..hahaha...oh i so love peribahasa.

 

full marks for creativity and trying :)

 

 

 

how we keep Ilhan occupied on long road trips

I know I'm his mum and all mums think their kids are superkids, but my untrained soccer-eyes tells me he's pretty good for a 20-month old. *beams*. hehe.

one step closer...

i drove a van today.  the SSS Mercedes Benz van, a real 11-seater van.

me and siak cheong had an orientation session with fauzi, and did a test-drive to friday's venue and back, parking et al. i didn't kill anyone along the way, and my passengers did not regurgitate their lunch or anything, so i guess i did ok.

and my parking was perfect on the first try.

i'm now one step closer to my childhood ambition of becoming a bus-driver. you know, those days when you put your fare in the OMO box and it swallows your coins in exchange for a ticket, those days when the roaring engine was right there next to the driver and the gear-stick was as long as a golf stick and buses had rattling wooden floors and rattling window panes.

the ultimate symbol of power to a 5-year old. he he he.

 

The Israeli Incursion - The Truth, Plain and Simple.

George Galloway on his usual warpath. The newscaster must be squirming and wishing she can get this interview over and done with. Classic case of 'menegakkan benang yang basah'. We'll never see this sort of action on channelnewsasia.

waxing lyrical

Good morning. A good morning indeed since today marks a week of no classes - three quarter of the school has left for Chonburi for the Thai Sports Schools Games. Hence we all sauntered in at 9 am and will spend the rest of the time meaningfully engaged in service-learning projects and trails.

For that same reason we had our N-Day celebration on friday. You know what's a sure sign of ageing? When you actually tear to the tune of We Are Singapore and the likes, and when you see a sudden burst of nationalistic/patriotic fervour from otherwise blase kids. ok, so i didn't tear, but I got some goosebumps. i admit though, that i teared when i watched the NDP on tv last year. I know what they say in Sociology 101, about all these pomp and pageantry serving to legitimise the state and all. so maybe years of drumming has gotten to me, but I think it’s due to a sense of syukur, primarily for being safe. Of course there are the grouses and all, but putting things into perspective given all that’s happening around, we don’t have it so bad.

On Saturday I handed over a set of my house keys to me tenants. *boo hoo hooooooooo sob sob*. On Friday I had gone over and vacuumed and mopped and all and I can’t help but feel sentimental about it. I mean like the house is some form of ‘labour of love’ for me and B, with all the arguments over renovation blah blah blah, scrimping and saving to buy stuff and all. And now, handing over the keys is so..definitive. of ending a chapter and moving on to the next, Brought Ilhan over on Sunday afternoon to pass the tenant some documents, and even he blinked at seeing strangers in the house and us leaving them behind. *sigh*.

Had late supper with some ex-studs at Aliff on Friday night. This is my Class of 2004 batch who passed through my hands from sec 1 till sc 4. I saw them morphing from squeaky 12-yr-olds through puberty to such nice young adults at 18. In turn, they saw me through a wedding and having a child. The best reward was of course, their brilliant O results (see jubilant picture).

Over the usual rounds of pratas and the-tarik I had my boost of morale seeing how they’ve turned out. They have such strong ideals about life, and I had to hold back from being the pessimistic adult. I must have done something good with these kids, and I pray they remain strong on the right path. And of course, repeat their feat and ace the A levels soon.

They reminded me the reason I teach. Simple.

...and the irony of it...

(if you’ve read my last post)…is that I’ve been arrowed by the corporate director to attend a youth dialogue session with the Prime Minister to discuss issues.

 

He (the corporate director, not the PM) must have been wondering why I have this constipated look on my face. I pleaded saying I’ve no burning questions to ask and no burning issues to discuss, but no…I must represent my age-group and generation who usually have lots of things to say, no?

 

There you have it.

 

but then again, i thought i sounded pretty ruthless in that previous post. so cold and unfeeling. shame on me. i just finished reading Tuesdays with Morrie, a moving piece of work which made me re-think my earlier sense of cold detachment. i'll do a review on that later on.

 

watched 9 Naga recently, very moving. will do a review on that later on too.

 

just had a chat with haryana over msn, and *sigh*...how i miss them so much. just over a short conversation she mentioned again how i never fail to inspire her. we were talking about language and identity and indonesian films and peter pan songs and malay  singaporeans' (youths, in particular) dismal (or is 'abysmal' a better word?) use of Bahasa Melayu. i thought them JC2 girls are into paris-hiltonism and all. i guess i was wrong. i'm proud of her.

 

how i miss my bp students. i miss those exchange of ideas and knowledge and passion, which sadly, is not happening where i am now. kids i taught used to lap up every lesson (and i look forward to every class) and whatever i teach i see in use in subsequent work. i feel like i was really a teacher back then. while now, well, sometimes i don't know what i'm doing now. things don't seem to click.

 

*sigh*. i've lost my mojo.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time

Rating:	★★★★
Category:	Books
Genre:	Literature & Fiction
Author:	Mark Haddon

Simply put, this book is the among the most interesting and different piece of work i've read. It's written from the perspective of an autistic 15-yr old Christopher Boone who seeks to solve the mystery of who drove a garden fork though his neighbour's dog.

I was brought into the psyche of an autistic teenager, and see the surroundings thorough his eyes. it's truly fascinating and intriguing how an autistic person thinks - so literal, logical and factual. i wonder how parents of autistic kids feel about their kids not being able to bond and connect emotionally with them. While reading I was thinking, there is nothing wrong with autistic kids per se; they are just different in the way they see and do things, and how they process information - somewhat robotic.

good one. go read.

Perth June '06

hit by apathy

i used to be 'very involved' with the world.

i took active interest in 'issues' plaguing mankind. i used to be so angry at injustice. i used to outraged by things 'not right'.

but now? uhm...nothing.

i felt a twinge of guilt on monday morning. during assembly roger asked the kids how many of them know about the latest going-ons btw israel and palestine and only a miserable handful (literally a handful) put up their hands.

i belong to the majority, of course. after which i sought digestible bits of info to at least know enough. to feel blase again.

all these going-ons are happening so often and on such a senseless scale that it has had a dulling effect on me.

political struggles. bombings. death. destruction. masalah remaja melayu. masalah melayu. lazy kids. teenage angst. yesterday i talked to this 13-yr old being about her joining attending christian fellowship, and i realised this kid lacks islamic knowledge and is disillusioned at the lack of repectable and world-famous muslim role-models. and when i asked her it's fine to know about 'others' but you must make sure you know your own faith sufficiently to do comparison, she muttered "can't be bothered".

local or global *dare i say it?* i think i don't care anymore. (not that i don't do anything. i try to infuse values and spirituality in lessons, but ultimately she's her parents' responsibility and believe me, they are very pro-active and involved).

Man is his bestest enemy and what can you do to change that? the best i can do i doa for justice to prevail and hidayah for the misguided. i save my worries and energy for my close circle of trust and love and dear ones.

i'm not a superwoman and i don't want to save the world. i don't even like to discuss  'issues' cos it makes me angrier and there are no resolutions in sight.

tell me, am i a bad person?