Woke up from the sleep

In L4 compartment, seat 2D by the window side in the shutter train from Kuala Lumpur to Langkawi; the night outside was dark as usual but was decorated by the white and orange color street lights. As the train moved in the speed of 110km per hour, I could see buildings after buildings passing me by in the twinkle of the eye.

Silver tears was running down my cheeks. I didn't tried to hold them back. People who saw might just presume them as evidence of bitterness - A young man who have had a tough relationship with his girlfriend or that one of his parent has died.

Nobody would have expected, they were tears of joy and relieved.

After a month and 13 days of home-escaping experience, I have finally realized where I really belong.

Kuala Lumpur, is a modern city. It has almost everything - Sky-high buildings, entertainments, modern technologies, variety of people, abundance of job opportunities.....

I could stay a little more longer than 44 days. I could sleep a few more KL nights and woke up in a few more KL mornings. I could bare a little more longer and tolerate just long enough until August ends. And I could buy what I have always wanted to buy and eat whatever I wanted to eat. The money will allow my luxurious dream to come true.

It was really very tempting. It wasn't hard to choose wrong. It took a lot of my courage to choose the opposite; to turn my back on what money has to offer me.

I considered, I weighted and I struggled between choices.

And then in one KL morning that I realized, I was hardly living.

So what if I were wearing Calvin Klein, holding LV wallet and Gucci sunglasses; living the modern and luxurious KL life. Who will be there to notice me? Maybe I will get a few second of attention from people whom I pass by.

The few seconds of admiration, it is worth it? Again, Is it really worth it? When I have people, somewhat 200km from KL who would just give me their 100 percent attention, 100 percent of the time. People would feel proud of me and treat me as their precious even if I am just wearing a plain white T with no brand.

Yes. I cried tears.

I cried tears of joy that I still have people who would love me unconditionally. I cried tears of relived because I am finally going back to people I value and value me.

I finally left KL, back to a place I called home.

Note to a friend I once called 'brother'

Hi, it has been awhile since we last contacted each other. I wish you are well.

Our friendship has been like this. Hot and cold. One minute, we were the best of friends in the eyes of others, another moment we were in cold wars. Our relationship is funny, don't you think?

Why was that? I didn't know.

If there is a middle person between us, I will tell that person that you are emotionally unstable, you are hard to understand, you wanted to avoid me, and I might even say, you are just insane.

You might want to complain to that person that I am finding fault with you, I never try to understand you, I always say something that provoke your feelings, I often try to test your temper and so forth.

But however serious our quarrels, we used to get back together as good friends again.

Sometimes, I really think many of the quarrels that we had were unnecessary. Some were caused by my jealousy, some were caused by your poor management of EQ.

We tried to improve every time. I changed to be a little less jealous while you worked on your temper. Bit by bit.

We both tried.

Anyhow, the root to the problem isn't solved. We still fight over small matters.

So where is the root to the problem? What caused all the quarrels and cold wars?

Bad communication would be the answer I suggest.

Let's admit that we are both flawed. You are bad in expressing yourself and just keep things to yourself while I am bad in understanding people and claim to understand everything.

Recently, I have read something on communication. To my horror, from the book, I have discovered how lousy I actually was as a listener. I hardly really listened to people. I only listened with the intention to comment and give advice to others. I assumed everybody's stories are like mine - like I have been through the same thing, the same situation and the same experience.

I often forfeit your right to express yourself by telling you my own stories, what I have experienced and how I successfully overcome the problems.

Maybe due to that, you have lost confident in me. You rather not talk to me about your problems and just keep them to yourself.

I really feel guilty for that.

Another reason why our friendship always fail is that - our relationship is not a win-win relationship.

There is always someone who needs to sacrifice and compromise. Sometimes it's me, and sometimes it's you.

We thought if we could just compromise for once, then the problem will be solved and the product is that we can save our friendship.

But the real fact is, we have headed for win-lose relationship.

We tolerated each others weaknesses in silence. We seldom voice it out because every time we did so in the past, we quarreled.

Every time we 'swallowed' our dissatisfaction towards the other, the needle of the time bomb clicked once towards the time of explosion.

I must said, we both have scarified in order to keep our friendship working.

Yes, we did make our friendship lasted a little longer but the price is, we are more and more prone to changing who we are just to keep ourselves together. We couldn't truly be who we are.

Until a certain stage, we repel each other in great force; just like what happened weeks ago.

The friendship we have cherished us in many moments, but it has also worn us out too often.

Until we can solve our communication problems and achieve win-win relationship, we will still reap the same frustration and anger if we get back too each other again continue doing what we have always done - compromise and pretend to forgive.

When win-win solution is not attainable. There is still another option.

Win-win relationship is a deal. Both parties get what they want and nobody have to scarify or extensively compromise to maintain the relationship.

Win-lose relationship is also a deal. One party has to constantly tolerate the other and compromise extensively to maintain the relationship.

The 3rd option would be. No deal.

No deal might be a good solution before win-win can be achieved.

No deal as in, nobody has to compromise nor scarify anything to maintain the relationship. Just set the bond free.

No deal doesn't mean we are not being friends with each other. We will still be friends, we will still talk and meet each other. Just that, we will never expect "best-friend-treatment" from each other anymore.

We will be free to be ourselves again. Never have to try to change ourselves to fit into another's behavior or temper.

Will we be best friend again?

Maybe.

Yes - If we can achieve win-win relationship. When we have gather enough faith in each other once again.

Even if we won't. I still believe you are a good friend.

Summary of first year in University: Intro

Adapting to the ever changing , growing up , making silly and painful mistakes, seeking for the right companions and struggling hard to survive the next day.

A year isn't really a long time. It can pass in just the twinkle of an eye. A year, sometimes isn't even long enough to allow a person to completely understand another nor himself. It isn't long enough for a student to learn the vast knowledge in this world. It isn't long enough for two lovers to feel that they have loved each other enough.

But a year... It is long enough to make a person feel tired. It is long enough to change a person's perception on something he used to believe in. It is long enough to make one feels confused. It is enough to make a confident person doubt himself.


Exactly a year ago, I was still wondering and feeling all excited about the life of a university student, just like a new born baby feeling excited about what life on earth can offer him.
I still haven't forgotten going to the internet goggling for the "Dos and don't s in college", asking friends who already had gone into colleges and universities to share out their experience and interesting stories, and I would enthusiastically listen to them and asked tons of questions; just like a child would excitedly listen to bed time stories and asked what happened to princes and princesses after the stories.




A year in university now. I have seen and experienced lives in university. I don't just listen to people's stories anymore. I am now a stories teller myself.


To be continued....

1st post in 2011 (Time elapse)

Can't describe how time has passed. It is the 21th of March 2011.

This is the very 1st time I really sit down and decided to click into my blog page to post something on my blog again after almost 11 months not producing anything on it.

"Bahawasanya kami, pelajar-pelajar Universiti Sains Malaysia, Berikar...."

I could still remember waking up that morning unwilling, annoyed by the multiple alarms set by my roommate which shook me up from my comfortable sleep at 5.30 in the morning while I could still sleep for another half an hour or so.

Having brushed my teeth, I opened my closet and took out my white Alian Delon, my tailor-made black trousers, silky black Suave tie, leathery black belt and my nicely-polished black leather shoes which made me feel proud wearing them every time. I transformed myself from the PJ I was wearing into the outfit that I thought would had best represented me. Black and white. Simple yet classy.

The program on that day was a grand one. The committees of the event made us rehearsed for it a few times before this. The ceremony would started with the arrival of the VC, followed by the singing of the song of university and then the speech by the VC and then...

Back then, we were not really interested in the ceremony. For us it was just another made-compulsory-program that every 1st year student must follow. I could confidently say that most of the students were more interested in talking to the new faces sitting beside them while some would rather physically forced to stay in ceremony but mentally fantasized themselves laying on their cozy hostel beds. I was one of the former.

I was seated in between two new faces. Both looked smart and interesting. However I talked to only one. Turned out that I am now closer with the other one that I didn't talk to that day.

The ceremony finally started. The member of the hall stood up for the arrival of the VC. Followed by the song and then the speech and so on as planned and as rehearsed.

I would say the climax of the ceremony would be the student's vow. Everyone rose, prepared in the vow reading position with right hand raised and there went the oath:

"Bahawasanya kami, pelajar-pelajar Tahun Satu University Sains Malaysia, Berikar...."

I have to admit, the moment was glorious. Everyone had the fire burning in their souls. The fire of passion and determination; also the urge to prove to everyone sitting beside, at the front and the back that we deserved being selected by the university based on both academically and non-academically. We all believed that we were the best of the best.

9 months gone. Time has passed. So has that belief.

Looking at the picture that I have been tagged by one of my friends reminded me of the oath that I have forgotten; the little promise that I had whispered to myself during the ceremony.

"Today, I have finally become a university student. I will study hard, be an excellent student. Perform my best in everything that I do. Be extraordinary. Make my family proud."

Thanks to the friend who has tagged me on this picture. Now I have waken up from my sleep. The mist that was surrounding me is gone. I can remember the reason I am here in the 1st place.

Bahawasanya kami, Pelajar-pelajar Tahun Satu University Sains Malaysia, Berikar...

My mama. (Mother's day special)

It's May. May is the month to commemorate the many achievements of people and the work they do. People of all kinds. People who work and get paid like doctors, teachers, lawyers, police, etc. and also the people who work and don't get paid, like our mums. They are all celebrated in the month of May - Labour Day, Mother's day and then Teacher's day.

But today I'm going to focus on the 9th of May 2010, Mother's Day.

Friends who know me well enough know that I always have issues with my mum. "Stubborn", "overprotective", "conservative", "old-fashioned"and "annoying" are words I often use to describe my mum. I must have been damn good at convincing people to always have my friends standing by my side every time my mum and I have a fight. They agree with me too that my mum can be a difficult mother.

Mother's day is not such a big day for me. I have not celebrated this day in 20 years - since the very day I come into this world. So, the "buying of flower", "planning a surprise party for mother" or simply the "Happy Mother's Day, mum" said on mother's day have never been marked on my yearly planner.

It's not that I hate my mum. I just don't celebrate Mother's Day. It's that I have not been brought up to celebrate these special days. I never have, except my birthday and my sister's.

So you must be wondering how I think about my mum and whether I love my mum or not since I don't celebrate Mother's Day.

Well, you are about to know...

When I was in kindergarten, I hated rainy days. This was because when it was raining, she would come. My mother, she would come to school with her old bicycle to get me home.

I didn't like it. The reason is simple. When my mum came, I was no more the cool guy all my kindergarten buddies used to believe.

They would find out that I was not as rich as I said. They would know that I didn't have a personal driver. They would be aware that the big car I said my father used to have doesn't exist.

And above all... I was not cool anymore. when my fat, ugly mum with boy-cut hair, wearing colour-washed-out T-shirt and cheap pants showed up with her old bicycle, a huge umbrella in her hand and a big smile on her face.


"Kong Zai!! I told you to stay in the class room and not to come out to the corridor when it's raining. See you have got your school shoes wet already. Tomorrow you are going to school bare-footed" speaking in her usual voice which she uses to bargain in the pasar while rubbing my hands and legs with the old rag she brought from home.

I could see my buddies all peeking from the classroom with their teasing smiles.

"Argh... didn't I tell you not to come so early when it's raining? Not before all my friends are gone." I reminded her angrily and rolled my eyes.

"You think I'm free to come any time? Mei mei is with grandmother and I still need to cook or you won't have dinner to eat tonight," replied my mum, a little annoyed and unhappy to hear what I had just said.

From the basket of the bicycle my mum took out the ugliest attire in the world. The super-large, ill-fitting, yellow rain coat.

"Now shut up and put this on already. We are going home. Hurry up!!"

I definitely was very embarrassed to get "wrapped up" in the yellow plastic. I would rather have myself all wet than to have that on.

Had struggled with the rain coat, the next humiliation was getting onto the back of the bicycle and have my buddies waving goodbye to me from inside their cars.

They were so lucky.

They had nice cars to fetch them home on rainy days.

They didn't have to wear the "yellow piece of plastic" around their bodies.

And...

They had slim and beautiful mums.

The rain was getting heavier and heavier. The extra large umbrella was not even enough to cover up my fat mother. As a result, at the back of my mum there was always a big patch of water mark. Caused by both her sweat and the rain. And she had to ride the bicycle very hard and sometimes even strained herself over her own body weight plus my weight (I was the fattest boy in my class).

I did notice that. But I didn't feel the slightest bit of sorry for her because I was so obsessed with being angry that I didn't feel anything else other than embarrassed and angry.

Now I have grown up, I no longer ride at the back of the bicycle because I can ride on my own. I am not as fat. I don't wear the rain coat anymore on rainy days. I can hold my bicycle with one hand and an umbrella with the other.

Many things are different now. Some things are still the same.

My mum still has her extra large umbrella.

When it rains, she still come looking for me in case I have forgetten my umbrella.

She still has the same big smile on her face when she sees me, just like when I was in kindergarten.

She still is fat and ugly, with boy-cut hair, cheap clothes and even older-looking now.

That's her.

The fat, blurred figure from afar in the rain holding an umbrella while riding her bicycle. That's my mum.

Every time it rains. I feel embarrassed. I feel ashamed that I failed to notice my fat, ugly mum. Instead I turned my head away and inside me I heard " How I wish had a richer and more beautiful mum."

Now I understand. I don't need a richer mum or a more beautiful mum. I like my mum just the way she is.

End of story.

You must be thinking that from now on I'll respect my mum more, appreciate her more, celebrate Mother's Day with her.

But no.

I will still fight and argue with my mum when I think she is being overprotective. But I won't stop loving my old, fat, ugly mum.

Till death us do apart.

Happy Mother's Day, Mum.

Mum and Estevan

Cikgu Lee's last day in school.

Everything has a dateline. Every application has a closing date. Every food in the supermarket has an expiring date. My job too, has a date where I will be terminated.

I know that day will somehow come. I just didn't expect it to come so soon. I thought it would be longer. Maybe someday when I have fed up with the greeting "Lao si Jao An" or "Selamat Pagi Cikgu". Or at least it will wait until I have done something fulfilling like to help a dumb kid to get 100 marks in exam. It seems I haven't done anything at all. But then it's already time for me to say goodbye.

Time is always in such a hurry with its hyper speed that when you come to realize it everything has already turned into history.

The day was still dark when I woke up. Like the usual, I had cereal for my breakfast. In the bathroom the water was as cold when it ran down my body and gave me the chills like every other morning. That day I purposely picked my best dress in my closet, I spent more time than usual in front of the mirror just because I thought I want to leave everybody in the school a good last impression.

There used to be a long conversation on the journey to school in the car which I car pool with a senior teacher. But that day, it was just silence.

"Tomorrow, you won't have to wake up this early anymore. So good." my senior colleague tried to break the silence by kicking start a joke.
"Yeah..." I answered short.

Obviously, the joke didn't go so well. Maybe, last day is meant to be quiet and more to the reminisce and appreciating in silence.

When I walked into the office I had all the attention of the other senior teachers. They all knew. But they still asked.

"Last day?"

"Yes."

Had my butt on the seat and my bag in its usual place, I started my routine-mind-wonder.

"Well, let's see. I have 6 periods today. Should I be teaching or doing something different? Like giving an inspirational speech on 'why human needs to study'? Or an emotional heart-to-heart talk with my students on my last day?"

My lesson had come. I walked into my standard 2 class room and then greeted by the long, dragging greeting "Laooooooo.......siiiiiiiiiii.....jaooooooo.......annnnnnnn". I carried out the first period by asking the students to read their text book and allowed them to ask questions like what I used to do.

For second period, I asked everybody to close the book. And then I broke the news to them.

"For your information class, I won't be coming to school tomorrow, the day after tomorrow and so on." I just thought they will understand what I meant.

To my horror, there was instant change of mood in the class!! Most of them become freshen up, and started to cheer and clapping their hands. My god....
Oh.... that was not what I expected.

One student some more added this, "You better not be kidding us. If I see you tomorrow, you are so going to die. I'll tell the principal you lied to us."

I felt a little angry, sad and hurt at the same time. I grabbed hold of the plastic bag of key chains that I had prepared earlier that I planned to give to every each of them as souvenir.

I took in deep breath and said to myself, "Ok, they are still young and they are 8 years old. They meant no harm saying that."

What can I still be expecting from them after all? The crazy, mean and evil Cikgu Lee who gave them homework like mountains and punished them when they "forget" their homework finally is going to be gone!!! I will cheer too if I were one of the students.

Okay then. Last day should be the craziest and most evil. I asked all the students to line up in front of the class room.

"I am going to beat each of you 10 times with this cane I have in my hand so that you will remember me after I have gone." I tried to scare them.

"You can choose to go back to your seat if you don't wish to remember me.", I continued.

In just 2 seconds, the row of students disappear.

Only one left.
"Are you sure you want to be beaten? I'll really beat, you know" I confirmed him.

"Yes. I want to remember you." having said that, he raised out his hand.

I dropped my cane and smiled to him. Inside I just felt so touched. At least one student. Even he was never my favourite as he was not the best in his class and was the weaker ones. I beat him quite often as he never study for his spelling I gave.

One student.... at least there is one.

That's something.

The school bell rang. It was recess time again. I had vegetarian porridge (carrot with potato) that day. One of the teacher cooked it for me. So sweet~ (not the porridge)

Finally, it was my finally period that day with my standard 4. We were having Home Science class and that day we were going into work room to complete their recycle project.

I was already very disappointed with my standard 2 students. And thus, the idea of giving inspirational speech and emotional heart-to-heart had faded.

Coincidentally, 2 groups of students never brought their project to school.

Aha... time to let go my fury that I had kept so long inside. I gave them some good scoldings and punished them to copy passages in the text book exactly like what was in the text book including the pictures and the patterns that make the passage interesting to read, as if they were photostatting machines.

I didn't have enough money to buy so many key chains therefore I made them bookmarks.

I made them just the night before. There were 30 of them and so I stayed till very late at night to have all the bookmarks cut into the similar shape.

Bookmarks: Actually the bookmarks are in feather-shape. Nothing much written on the bookmark as the time was running short. I just put on a few words on them... "Study hard, good luck..." follow by their individual names.

There wasn't any ceremony to give out those bookmarks. I just walked to the groups one by one and distributed the bookmarks.

They were just surprised but not really enthused to receive my bookmark. Maybe they still feel a little depressed and angry with my scoldings few minutes ago.

Almost time to go. I told them the news that I'll be leaving:

"Well, today is my last day in school. You don't have to see my annoying face anymore after today. But now, you'll still need to obey me even you don't feel quite like to. I haven't lost all my power yet. Not today. Those who haven't finished copying the passages or that I'm not satisfied with what you have copied, you are not allowed to go home today." I tried to threaten them.

Oh...the "You cannot go back home" sentence really worked!! Some students panicked and cried.

"You don't cry in front of me. That's not going to change the fact that you can't go home today. So stop crying" I found it funny to fool with them just before I left.

The crying didn't stop.

The bell rang again. That indicates my last day in school was over.

"All right then. You can stop copying. Just make sure you don't do the same mistake again. Alright?"

That's what teachers do, right? Saying not to allow their students to go home if homework not done but then they don't really do that.

Another reason, the students had to have their lunch before their co-curriculum activities began. It was Wednesday.

So I freed them, looking at their backs leaving one by one.

And then there was only me in the empty work room......

I went back to the office and then started to pack my stuffs preparing to leave the school.

An aunt who worked in the canteen came into the office and complained to the teacher in charge of student's affair that a standard 4 was rude that he refused to take his lunch and cried his way back to the classroom.

Oh my lord, I didn't beat the student. I didn't humiliate the students so badly that they would refuse their lunch.

The teacher went to the boy's classroom to find out what was wrong.

In the meantime, I just started to panic and quicken my packing speed. Hopefully I would make it to step out the school gate before the teacher was back with the student and I had to apologize to the student for scaring them out.

Done packing. Rush my steps out of the office. But.... damn it. The teacher was back. And called my name.

"Cikgu Lee", my name was heard from the other door of the office.

Sweet god....

"Yes?" I tried to remain calm.

Good. No student was by her side.

"You made the standard 4 boys cried.", the teacher said.

"Oh...", I was speechless.

"They said their hearts feel heavy for your leaving.", the teacher smiled.

"Oh, what? Can't be...", I was disbelieved and feel a rush of emotion.

At that scene my tears almost drop out. But I got it controlled...

The standard 4 students that I yelled, beat and scolded most cried for me?

They are not the best students in the school, but they are definitely my favourite ones.

So much for teaching.

So much for my last day in school.

I can finally said this out loud....

"My mission has completed!"

Memoirs of a replacement teacher

Before I started teaching,

I used to believe that the job of a teacher is damn easy.

I used to expect the job of a teacher to be solely passing on knowledge.

I used to see teaching as second class job.

I used to think that the cane is never the best solution for kids' problems and I swore I won't use it if I'm the teacher.
I used to be angry and annoyed when teachers make me read a passage again and again.

I used to complain when a teacher give more than two homework in a day.

I used to have the dream that I'll be the loving teacher every student love and adore.

I used to.... a lot of things before I actually become a teacher.



After I have finished teaching. And...

Now that I understand, teacher is not as easy a job as I first thought it was.

Now that I discover, that a teacher doesn't just pass on knowledge but also have to shape what's inside of his students.

Now that I know that the cane is the only method to use on kids when all other softer methods have failed to prove their effectiveness.

Now that I realize, the teachers meant good when they asked me to read a passage over and over again.

Now that I see, all the homework will eventually end up on the teachers' tables.

Now that I come to know, the teachers have to do the homework too before marking them in order for them to point out what the students have done wrong.

Now that I realize, the thought of me being surrounded by students who love and adore me is really just a dream.

Now that I understand, students will still celebrate and cheer when you say you are leaving.

Now that I know, students won't appreciate me as much as how I appreciate them.

Now that I am a teacher.... I realize how lousy a teacher I have been.