A Tale of Two Schools in Alor Setar

Gosh, the first month of the new year 2009 has just ended. Time passed by so swiftly in January. Lots of exciting things have happened, and February promises to be even more exciting. My brother started his secondary schooling at Sultan Abdul Hamid College (SAHC) and this excites Papa no end. Yesterday, when my brother told Mama that his application to MRSM was not successful, I swear I heard Mama cackled so heartily. Papa reasoned out that there are many more deserving students who really really need the limited places in MRSM more than my brother.

Whenever time permits, Papa always looks forward to the trip to SAHC, either to send my brother off on Saturday morning for him to attend the replacement classes or to fetch him in the evening after the co-curiculum activities on a weekday. Apart from the banners and permanent writing on the wall of the Sultan Abdul Hamid Pavilion proclaiming 100 years of excellence, what struck him most upon entering the compound of SAHC was the overall feel good ambience, as narrated to a couple of SAHC blogger-alumni:

1. Mat Cendana (10 January): Gosh, early this morning I ventured into SAHC for the first time. And I wanted so much to spend time in Stuart Library, but the door was shut, or so it seemed. The atmosphere was enchanting and full of aura. Am crazy about the old trees flanking the road leading to the teachers’ room.

2. Kak Teh (24 January): I've been to SAHC twice now, and really enjoyed the exhilarating short drive along the Persiaran Tunku Abdul Rahman as we entered the compound, then passed the imposing Main Building overlooking the rugby field and the Menara Alor Setar at a distance, and finally made our exit via the Persiaran Tun Dr Mahathir, with Stuart Library on the left and the Pavilion on the right. And the countless majestic raintrees flanking both the Persiaran, what a sight to behold.

However, rather depressingly, he felt devoid of similar uplifting

experience when he visited another famous all-girls school on the other part of town, in Jalan Telok Wanjah, near Istana Kuning and Menara Alor Setar. Relocated since the middle of 2001, St. Nicholas Convent (SNC) is just a skeletal of her former self. The one-storey classrooms situated along the main road are now converted into one big kopitiam (yellow inside), serving almost everything under the Malaysian sun for breakfast; nasi kerabu, nasi dagang, and toast, baked beans and grilled sausage, if that takes your fancy.

And the double storey buildings where the teachers’ rooms were located now lay abandoned, and unloved. Was there a concerted effort to preserve that great school whose illustrious alumni include Dr. Wan Azizah, Malaysia’s first female Opposition Leader?

Mercy Malaysia's Palestine Relief Fund

A compassionate blogger friend has put up a post, appealing for donations to help the Palestinians in their greatest hours of need. She writes:

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Whenever time permits, I volunteer at Mercy Malaysia Corporate Communication department, helping Sharmini writes a line or two about their relief activities. I believe in the purity of their heart to help this world free from war and disaster.

If your heart bleeds for the atrocities bestowed on Gaza by the Israelis, do lend them a hand. Let us part with whatever we can afford to help Palestinians in their time of grief.

Mercy Malaysia has, on 30th December 2008, formed an Emergency Response Assessment Team to face the humanitarian crisis in Gaza strip. The team has been promptly dispatched to Egypt led by President, Datuk Dr. Jemilah Mahmood and Exco Member Norazam Ab. Samah.
The air strike and ground offensive on Gaza - as reported by AlJazeera - have killed more than 700 Palestinians, 219 of which are children. More than 3000 have been wounded.

Therefore, Mercy Malaysia appeals to generous Malaysians to send it cash donations. Contributions will support Mercy Malaysia to procure emergency surgical kits, medicines and hospital equipments to help the hospitals in Gaza.

- Cheque is to be made payable to “MERCY MALAYSIA” and addressed to Mercy Malaysia, Level 2, Podium Block, City Point, Kompleks Dayabumi, Jalan Sultan Hishamuddin, 50050 Kuala Lumpur.
- Cash donations can be made via on-line transmission or deposit at CIMB Bank Account No: 1424-000-6561053.
- Donation form can be downloaded from here.

Further enquiries are to be directed to +603-22733999 or info@mercy.org.my
Let us make a difference by whatever little we have. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you for your generosity.

Written by elviza
Thursday, January 8, 2009

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Again, thank you dear readers for doing the needful.

To the West Side Story

The East Coast between Kota Bharu and Cherating is Malaysia at its most Malay; charming, gentle, generous and always down to earth. From Cherating we drove westward to Kuantan and then Bukit Tinggi (or Berjaya Hills). One of the latest attractions in Bukit Tinggi is the Berjaya Hills Resort, which is styled after the 18th century Colmar Village and a medieval castle in France. We arrived slightly after 2pm. The temperature was hardly cold, despite the resort being 800 metres above sea level.

We ate enormously for breakfast at Mak Cik Dah’s stall in Cherating, and had no inclination to munch lunch just yet. We strolled leisurely along the cobblestone courtyard of the Colmar Square which was bereft of visitors, and watched the 3pm showtime, featuring Malay-looking girls and boys dancing to fast tempo Pop Latino music. Truly a rojak Malaysian ambience: Middle East tourists in abaya watching nubile Malaysians strutting energetically to Iberian rhythms amidst a Western European setting. Due to time constraint, we decided not to take the tram that ferries visitors to the other places of attraction such as the Japanese Village and the Rabbit Park.

We arrived in KL at about 6pm without making prior hotel reservations. Tune Hotel and other hotels in the Golden Triangle were fully booked until the mid week. Fortunately a few snazzy budget hotels in the revitalised Changkat Bukit Bintang/Tengkat Tong Shin area had a few rooms available. We crashed in one of the pre-war shophouses that have been splendidly converted into contemporary, minimalist and sunny lodgings, a walking distance from the effervescent Jalan Alor.

While Papa went out to work that weekend, we followed Mama shopping in Bukit Bintang and Jalan Masjid India. On Sunday, after Papa finished his work, we had dinner at Coliseum Café - a legendary and enduring institution. This almost 90-year old magnificent café still retains its old world charm and is not showing signs of crumbling. The sturdy exterior is characterized by the swinging door and glass panel on each side embossed with letterings similar to that found at any cowboy saloons. The interior is divided into two equal-size areas; one for dining and the other the lounge bar. The décor is retro chic with burgundy lounge chairs and hat hanger for colonial planters to hang their pith helmets and gun belts, but now barely utilised.

Apart from being a popular haunt for planters to enjoy their time for a Tiger while exchanging horror stories on the terror unleashed by the communists, famous authors in the likes of Maugham and Burgess are said to have set foot here. Nowadays, Coliseum Café continues to sizzle new and regular customers with its signature gastronomic delights; classic local dish like the Hainanese seafood fried rice or western cuisine of steak, served by splendidly eccentric geriatric waiters. While my family was enjoying their dinner, I played with the carlsberg coasters in the adjoining bar and attempted to make them stand like a pyramid. Papa only looked for me when he heard me cried … I was bothered by the sound of miaw miaw coming from the lounge bar although the cats were invisible to us.

After dinner we stopped by at Wan Cu’s house in Cheras Jaya for a few cups of Kopi 434. An hour before midnight, Papa drove us back to Kubang Pasu. At Sungai Buluh, Papa handed over the steering to Mama, who drove non-stop to Gurun. Then Mama woke Papa up for him to continue the last leg of the 1-hour drive from Gurun to Kubang Pasu. Before resuming his driving, Papa asked Mama for the large flask containing Kopi 434 which Wan Cu has prepared to keep them awake while driving. Mama told him she had drank it all. We arrived home at about 6am. Papa took a short nap and left home at 8am for a meeting in Auto City, Prai, scheduled at 10am.

A Special Mention in Iskandarian

I made a debut in Iskandarian when a brief article written by my brother about our experience living in Saudi Arabia was published in his school's annual magazine. The pre-Merdeka primary school in Alor Setar was founded by Master Mohamad bin Iskandar, the father of our beloved ex-Prime Minister, Tun Dr. Mahathir.

Sempena tahun baru 2009 yang bakal menjelang, kami doakan anda semua selamat panjang umur, murah rezeki dan sihat walafiat sepanjang tahun 2009.

Update on 1 Jan. 2009 (2.00 pm): Here are some photos which show the exterior of our Al-Kindi apartment in Diplomatic Quarter (DQ or Hayy Assafarat in Arabic). The apartment is adjacent to the central mosque (indicated by the two minarets) and the Al-Kindi plaza where my brother and sister used to cycle or skate, under the watchful eyes of Papa and Mama while sipping their latte. The apartment and the surrounding structures won the Aga Khan Award for Architecture 1989. All images are taken from Archnet.

And this is how Papa waxed lyrical to the beautiful and kind-hearted Mithali blogger, Nuraina A. Samad, about those mesmerising days in DQ:

"Our two older children and I did a lot of cycling together when we were in Riyadh. But Arab drivers are even more notorious, I hear some of you say. True, but we're very fortunate to be provided a decent accommodation in the Diplomatic Quarter (DQ), which is conducive for cycling and walking ... security around the clock and the vibrant views that do not weary the eyes with sameness … boulevards flanked with kurma trees, contemporary buildings designed by world-best architects juxtapose with the arresting reproduction buildings that exude the old world charm of the Najd architecture, landscaped gardens after landscaped gardens, no Mat Rempits … oh I can just go on and on …"

Cherating Revisited

Papa visited Cherating for the first time in the late 1980s, before he met Mama, and instantly felt like a modern day Robinson Crusoe, far from the maddening bright lights and big cities. He stayed in a spartan beachfront hut, and spent most of the day sleeping on the beach and daydreaming with eyes wide opened. The beach vista and the refreshing sea breeze induced him to sleep effortlessly. The night was spent listening to reggae music at the local bars scattered around the paradoxically conservative yet hip village, and at the countless cafes sipping Nescafe or teh tarik whilst flying on the magic carpet of Pico Iyer’s spellbinding Video Night in Kathmandu. That travel book singularly made him want to experience One Night in Bangkok, and the wild, wild world on the Prospero’s Isle of Bali, and more. But let’s not digress.

Back then, Cherating was popular among the globetrotting backpackers and hippies and local couples, married, soon-to-be married or unmarried. After he met Mama, they went there again and again, without and plus the kid(s). Although Cherating is now dotted with modern hotels and boutique villas such as top of the range Villa Tab, one can sense that the place has lost the magic that prompted Club Med to open up its first holiday destination in Asia.

We arrived here from Kuala Terengganu late into the night, and had to leave for Kuala Lumpur the next morning. So it was considered obscene to be splashing money just to have a modest bed to rest our tired bones, and not using all the other facilities including a well-maintained beachfront. My family decided to stay in a budget motel in Kampung Cherating Lama that provides the basic amenities such as clean bed, attached bathroom, air-conditioning and a TV set, which remained off.

At the crack of dawn the next day, while the others were happily dozing off, Papa strolled along the beach and later had breakfast at the stall located opposite the horse stable belonging to the Penn Endurance Equestrian Club, and across the private road leading up to Villa Tab. The stall is run by Mak Cik Dah, with the help of a lady assistant who was overly decorated so early in the morning.

Mak Cik Dah is a chatterbox and a repository of all the comings and goings in Kampung Cherating. While preparing the orders from the diverse customers, she engaged in small talks which led to who, what, when and where. By listening to their conversations, one is drawn, albeit unwittingly, into their dramatic little world; who are involved in the latest road accidents, who are tying the knots, etc. Alas, no tittle-tattle on local or national politicians.

A group of small boys and girls stopped by to order their breakfast of nasi lemak, nasi dagang and nasi minyak, with their specific likes and dislikes ”Jangan boh timun”; “Hok saye, boh telo mata kebau”; “nasi dagang lauk ikang, bukang ayang”; etc etc and concluded with a collective “Sipang dulu Cik Dah. Kite nok gi pata belake”. Mak Cik Dah, noticing an unfamiliar face among the kids, asked “Ni anok sape?” and his cheeky friend tartly replied “Anak Bangla”. Makcik Dah told him off “Sedaq ngata oghang teh. Kena keja anjing kak pata baghu pade muko”.

Then a group of lithe young surfers parked their car, and ordered their breakfast to be consumed at the stall. Although they hardly look Malaysian, but they all spoke in Terengganu Malay. The one with the darkest complexion and Bob Marley hairdo wore a t-shirt that screams “Horror unleashed, Terror unmatched. The ultimate in human agony”. Mak Cik Dah asked them “Tak main ombak pagi ni?”.

After serving them, Mak Cik Dah asked her assisitant “Ah sudoh la weh. Tok ingat budok-budok hok gi pata tadi orda lauk gapo”. Her assistant with lips painted so garishly, just shook her head.

Before continuing our journey to Kuantan, my other family members had their breakfast at Mak Cik Dah’s happening stall too, whilst I was busy doing tawaf round and round the stall, like a spinning wheel.

Dreaming of Morocco

Selamat Menyambut 1-Muharam 1430H to all, from all of us.

"... sesunguhnya pada tahun baru ini aku memohon daripada engkau perlindungan daripada nafsu amarah yang sentiasa mendorong ke arah kejahatan dan melalaikan aku dengan perkara yang tidak berfaedah daripada mendekati diri kepada engkau ..."

A Short Visit to Terengganu

The month of December is constantly filled with travel, lots of travel. On the second day of Raya Korban we drove to Kota Bharu. It was a Tuesday and a public holiday in Kelantan, like all the other Malay states of Perlis, Kedah and Terengganu. The traffic was surprisingly light. The damn famous White House cafe was not opened for business, and so we had our drink and snack at McD. On the top floor of McD, a few of the customers were simultaneously having their meals and surfing the internet .

The following day, we took the coastal road to Kuala Terengganu. which was almost a repeat of the trip we made last year to attend the riveting Monsoon Cuppa, and saw the late Datuk Razali Ismail there who we later found out was a neighbour of Mama’s Tok Ayah in Kuala Berang. Our first stop was Kuala Besut to enquire about the speedboat services to Pulau Perhentian but there were none at this time of the year as it was monsoon season.

Next, we stopped by the roadside stall at Rhu Sepuluh beach for a satisfying bite of the crunchy seafood fried in batter. We then checked out The Aryani Resort in Merang, and the place is secluded and really deserted. We did not see a single soul dining or sunbathing there. We spent the night in Kuala Terengganu at a brand new hotel overlooking the glittering Crystal Mosque by the Terengganu River. The iconic Burj-Al-Arab-Jumeirah-look-alike hotel is owned by a major plantation company whose Chairman is a politician from Terengganu. Our dinner at an almost full house restaurant in Jalan Hiliran, not very far from the hotel, consists of nasi minyak, rojok and laksa Terengganu.

The next day was spent mainly in the vicinity of Masjid Zainal Abidin, Istana Maziah and Bukit Puteri, which are  featured in the best seller Growing Up in Trengganu, and at the newly opened Taman Tamadun Islam (TTI). Surprise, surpise, we actually spent almost four hours wandering aimlessly around TTI. Of all the 21 iconic Islamic monuments from around the world built in the Edutainment Park on Pulau Wan Man, we decided to spend more time at the Masjidil Haram and the Taj Mahal.

My siblings opted to cycle from one mini monument to another, but we chose to ride on the tram. We overheard one elderly lady passenger telling another in local dialect: “Tepak ni best. Dok pahang bak pe oghang kutuk”. Papa noticed that the developer left a few matured trees on the small island untouched. Before we left Terengganu for Cherating, my parents made sure I had my first taste of beronok, a bright red sago pudding coated with grated coconut. I loved the small portion Mama gave me as it is so like strawberry.

MERRY XMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL.