Kindness or Empathy

 

It is Saturday morning Aug 15 2020. It is the period before the breaking of dawn. Three  hours later I am back at the keyboard. There is nothing much to do, Saturday is always quiet and lack color. I have been reading up on old Kuala Lumpur right back to the fifties and sixties. My memory is also failing me and I have to struggle to remember places, events and names. In the old days, when life was not so hectic, the people in general were much more polite and not in a hurry to catch up on appointments. I remember distinctly the bountiful numbers of Chinese in Malaysia. Comparatively we had very little Chinese here.

Victoria Institution was really an eye opener on the life of the elite class. Practically all the students were of the elite caliber. The school was impressive, the teachers very dedicated and hardworking. Today I do not know if the school is still around. I guess so, as the grapevine has no news on its demise.

Teachers on the whole are a forgotten lot. On very rare occasions, we hear and see of old students coming together to celebrate a former teacher for his/her dedication in helping them acquire a good education. Coming to the subject of teachers again, I remember clearly my teachers in KL who taught me so many things and were very decent and patient with me. After crossing the Sea of Java and docking at Port Kelang I was sent to meet the headmaster Mr. V Murugesu without even waiting to catch my breath. I showed Mr. Murugesu the letter from the Ministry of Education, Indonesia confirming my enrolment in Victoria Institution. It was Christmas Eve, nonetheless Mr. Murugesu kindly waited for my arrival at his office just below the bell tower. Mr. Murugesu said I would be placed in Lower Six B1, or the pure math class and he added he would walk with me to the students hostel just adjacent the school. We walked a dirt track under very shady trees and from about 60 meters from the hostel, I could hear the tune of silent night being played and the raucous voices of young hostelites.

I was introduced to the hostel master, an Indian man and also the hostel captain, a muscular young man about 20. They were very friendly and went out of their way to show around the premises which was to be my home for the next two years. The hostel captain Joe (not his real name) was Chinese about 19 and a cheerful manner about him. English was the lingua franca spoken at the hostel and was to be my language for the next two years.

English was quite difficult and I found the going tough. But my classmates spoke English as if by second nature. I tried very hard during the two years in VI, trying to beef up my command of English. Malaysians in general spoke fluent English having been taught so by their English colonial masters. All races spoke the language without difficulty. The weather in Malaysia was similar to that in Indonesia except for the fact that it is not home to a single volcano. My form teacher was a Chinese lady but I have forgotten her name. I remember Mr.Ananda Krishna who taught us Pure Math. Mr. Ananda was super cool in Math and had once taught in India. He was a short tiny man, a bit deaf in the right ear. Hence he had a earphone place in his right ear. He also had a sense of humor, the Jack Benny kind. Mr.Gan taught us applied math, a tall and burly Chinese who had graduated in mathematics from the University of Malaya. Mrs. Ee taught us chemistry while Mr.Selavaraj taught us Physics. Since Form 6 had no physical classes, often we had to attend classes by occupying the laboratory. For General Paper, a eurasian man taught us the subject.

VI had a good mix of scholars and sportsmen and performed exceedingly well in both disciplines. I believe the school's motto was second to none.

Do not do unto others...

 

Calm before the Storm

Today is the day after the storm. The storm refers to the violent eruption from Gunung Sanbowo in the island of Sumatra just north-west of Jawa. I heard on the airwaves in Kota Malang, East Jawa. We have another 145 active volcanoes to contend with. This year is the second active voice we in Indonesia have heard and felt. Altogether 147 active volcanoes that will speak but only when.....

Got up at 04:30. It was raining heavily. The outside was dark and quiet. Thinking of the past a lot. Possible friends, former colleagues and ex-schoolmates, whether they were still alive. I have tried to reconnect with the past, 50 years back in time but always I hit a dead end. What I write here is not really a blog, that is heavy stuff, what I do here is to pen my thots about myself starting from getting up from bed to before I call it a day.

Continuing from this morning, the rain has abated. Good news. Too much rain will also be hard on most folks. I started the day reminiscing about past friends and colleagues. Especially childhood friends from the early days of childhood. The group which ran about naked and barefooted. Yes, even slippers wendre a commodity that we can ill afford. It is a nice-to-have but not a must-have. Most of my group settled in Holland as we were once a colony of Holland.

The two years I spent in Kuala Lumpur did not help much in terms of language barriers but it was an eye-opener as to how low our standards were when compared with the Malaysians in general. Even today the elite of Indonesian society seek treatment from Singapore. In Singapore, we may see the best pool of medical talent but soaring and exorbitant prices have sort of barred the ordinary Indonesian from treatment in Singapore. For us we have to seek the services of a modest and humble treatment from a Kedokteran PNS (Pegawai Negeri Sipil) or a doctor from the civil service.

The sun is now arising from the eastern skyline and it is comforting the day will soon be a shining and burning hot weather which we are accustomed to. For those holding the BPJS (or Badan Penyelenggara Jaminan Sosial) can at least have access to public medical treatment.

It is almost sundown, the time to eat, wash up and then to bed. Feeling a bit under the weather while continuing the process of weaning from a potent medication. It has helped but I feel it is time for the drug to go. I will try and keep trying to locate my long lost friends over the internet. I am not very optimistic about my chances but I have got to try. I hope they are well and still around. 

Where is the sky?

Sering-sering kita tertanya-tanya antar kita sendiri, apa maksud kehidupan kita di fana yang di sebut-sebut dunia (Earth dalam bahasa Inggris) dan alam maya (Spiritual world).

The vidwo above comprise of old traditional Jawanese music. It's ancient flavor has not dissipated for centuries and the main musical instrument is of course the gamelan. It is a rather a strange and awkward theme to base one's blog under but for one cent goes, here goes nothing.

This world is obsessed with the new and fascinating toys we have been given the privilege of playing with. Even  old aunties and uncles do not remember the times they were young and a computer was only a pipe dream.

I also believe the generators of such tools and content should be given the proper acknowledgement and dues. Piracy is not cool, it is wrong morally and also wrong secular-wise. I too would like to be given free content and free this and free that but have we thought about the other guy who is plugging away the night to give us so much joy and realization of one's worth. No I don't really believe we have given much thot to these nerds and geeks. Well it is time we do or as we say, "Where is the sky then?". Even the Good Book says "A workman must be paid his wages". Companies like Google, Microsoft and Facebook have given the world so much and I strongly believe in the principle in allowing such companies enjoy the fruits of their labor.

As the old latin once said "Ora et Labora".