I was summoned to Lady Patsy's Chambers on Sunday with a task to refurbish her space. Since Lady Patsy was on hiatus, I decided to go ahead and "decorate" her Chambers with my entries.
For my last two entries, please go to: Lady Patsy's Chambers
1. Chambers Refurbished, Men Smiling
2. How To Impress Each Other (list given courtesy of U.Lee)
Spring is in the air. Flowers blooming everywhere. The rich and adventurous boys of Germany are out with their mean machines terrorising drivers on the autobahn. It is also time for enjoying the weather. The sun is up and out - too much for this time of the year, I might add. It feels like summer today and it is only April. What can I expect this summer? Blistering weather? Dry lakes? Sun-burned "mat sallehs"? (Note to self: Look out for lobsters in the frozen section on my next grocery day)
There is a German-American Volkfest (Fair) in town. Vendors were busy setting up tents and booths a week ago for games, rides, food and drinks. I watched them build up the scene day by day. They took one week to set up everything. A huge closed-in tent now dominates the panorama. Local bands perform there every night. I can just imagine the vendors' excitement a week ago - waiting in anticipation of beer-guzzling folks to sit around and enjoy their pints, nay, gallons of beer. Ah... beer. That smooth, golden, frothy concoction that makes the drinker lose all senses and inhibition. Thus, the ability to listen to loud, deafening music and gawk at waitresses carrying huge jugs and mugs; or with huge jugs carrying mugs.
Speaking of the nether region reminds me of the time when my colleagues and I were taking up swimming lessons at that pool in Jalan Raja Chulan, Kuala Lumpur. Our coach was a young guy named Saad, who preferred to be called James (I don't know why lah, don't ask me) . We met James at the pool at opening time - 5:30pm. He signed us in. We all got into our swimming suits and had our first lesson. I could not help but notice that James had a tearing seam on the side of his swimming trunk. I shared that information with Raha (my colleague) but we decided not to say anything. We were not going to embarass our coach on the first day. After our session was over, James asked us if we could come in at 5:00pm for the next eight weeks. We agreed. I figured that would be good just in case any of us drowned, we won't have a public spectacle. James told us that he would bring our membership cards to our office before the next lesson. These cards will ensure entry to the pool before opening hours. I forgot all about the cards as the days passed.
Everyday when I open my e-mail account, I have an avalanche of forwarded articles warning me about something. OK, maybe I was exagerrating on the avalanche part. Still, it does get tiresome having to clear out an inbox filled with warnings that I have seen before.
I will accept and understand that forwarding stuff is well-meant and that it is an intent to share a story. I will acknowledge it is a way to say, "I am thinking of you". However, if one is really thinking of another, how about writing a short note? I know that I'd love to hear from family and friends about what they have been up to. Even if it is a line, it means more than a forwarded redundant warning.
Having said that, I don't turn away prayers forwarded to me - that is a nice way to say you are thinking of me. I appreciate blessings anytime. I will take interesting and pertinent articles relating to life, love, culture and politics. I find that including a short note to a forwarded piece of writing gives it a personal touch. I will accept jokes and cartoons, be it clean, innocent, naughty, dirty - it works for me. I'd like to have a good laugh every day, if possible. I especially welcome inspirational articles. Inspiration to live and love.
I have been in the cyberworld since 1996. Since then, I have been reminded countless times not to heat plastics in the microwave. I have been warned about HIV-infected needles in the theatre and at petrol pumps. Oh! the endless pleas to boycott Tommy Hilfiger because he is apparently a racist. The list is somewhat exhaustive. These stories are called e-rumours.
Here's the bad news: Those e-rumours I mentioned above - all fiction. Except for heating the plastics in the microwave, where it is partly unproven.
And the good news: There is a website that verifies e-rumours. Go to http://truthorfiction.com/
Fellow blogger, Theodwyn, says "there's another website (http://www.snopes.com/) which verifies these forwarded stuff too. I've oftened found the rumour forwarded to me there, and then replied that email with the link which disproves it." )
Thank you for sharing that information, Theodwyn.
By the way, most of these forwarded stuff are sent from people when they are at work. Are you working now or forwarding those pesky e-rumours?
It was during the World Youth Day in Köln, Germany in 2005. I was one of the youth counselors. We were a small group, seven in all. To keep close to each other, we hung on to each other's backpacks as we walked through massive crowds. We were not the only ones doing this. Other groups from nations around the world did this too. It did not matter if they came in a group of 10 or 100. We would find human chains everywhere. Everyone was afraid to lose their group. It was an endless wait to get across a human link of more than 30.
I remember this stranger so clearly because he almost instigated a fist fight. Yes, a potential fight after a religious gathering. During this particular World Youth Day, an estimated 500,000 Italians made their way up to Germany. We were not surprised. It was a Catholic world event. We were all going to see the new pope - Pope Benedict XVI.
We had camped out in the field on the eve of the Pope's mass. All groups were given their designated spots in the open field. We were supposed to share our space with others. Needless to say, by the time midnight came around, we were practically sleeping in our bags, shoulder to shoulder. Our small group bundled up as close as possible. Throw a stone to our right and we would have heard someone say "ouch" in Polish (I assume they have their own way of screaming out in pain). Toss a stone to our left and we would have definitely hit an Italian. At our feet, were a group from The Czech Republic and the Spaniards snored away above us.
After the Pope's mass, we made our way to the train station. The Germans, hats off to them, kept us as organised as possible. They closed roads, created detours and directed traffic. There were no cars in that vicinity. They did all that to control human traffic.
Extra trains were designated to move people out as quickly as possible. There were specific trains leaving for the neighbouring European countries. Normally, one would not get a direct train connection from a small town in Germany to a neighbouring country. This was an exception. Germany had to clear out more than a million people that night; not counting the others who did not attend the Pope's mass at the field. They were still loitering around in Bonn, Dusseldorf and Köln.
When we finally reached the train station, two hours later after leaving the field, we had to wait in line to get to the platform. During that time, our group decided to link up again. It was crucial seeing the immense crowd around us. It was a scary thought if one of us broke off from our link - our line was constantly moving.
Out of nowhere, a very good-looking European guy came up to me, with two of his friends. I could see a large group they behind them. They asked me in Italian, if they could pass through. I don't speak Italian at all but from their gestures I knew what they wanted. On a normal, non-maddening crowd event, I would have let the guys walk through with their entourage. That day, I just could not. I told him "no, I am sorry."
I was the last one in my group. We agreed that one adult will head the group and the other one tails.
He tried to ask again but this time his equally good-looking friend chipped in. "Maybe you don't understand what my friend said. We want to walk here. Can you let us walk through?"
I said, "Sorry, I cannot. If I let go, I will lose my group. I am the last one here. Ask the guy behind me. See, the line is moving again. If I let go, I will lose my friends."
The third Italian guy came up from behind, obviously having enough of what was taking place. He pushed my right hand off the backpack I was holding in front of me and tried to shove his way through.
I quickly found my grip again with my left hand, turned around, pointed my finger at him as if chastising a child. "How dare you? Don't you attempt that again."
I turned to the second guy and said, "You can speak to me in ten languages and I will simply not let go off my group. Ask the guy behind me. He is not with us." I realised a moment later that it probably did not look good from another person's perspective, especially to the Canadian guy and girl behind me. It was the World Youth Day. We supposed to be celebrating world unity!
Seeing that they could not get through to me, these Italian guys turned to the Canadian behind me and asked the same but with impatience and anger. He refused to let them through. No reason given. As you can imagine, tempers flared among the Italians. One of them suddenly pushed the Canadian girl aside and it looked like she almost lost her balance. The Canadian guy was furious and pushed the Italian back and said, "Stop that. You come here and rough up the ladies and think you can get your way. If you really want to get through now, find another way. You have lost your chance here." One of the Italians was raising his fist midway when his friend pulled him back saying something in their language. They realised the people around were beginning to notice their behaviour. I could hear some "boo-ing". They walked away mumbling, as I might guess, some obscenities. I turned around and thanked the Canadian guy for handling the Italians. His girl had a little shock registered on her face but she remained calm. We talked after that while our line inched towards the platform. We bade our farewells when our groups finally parted ways. 
We got back to the church at 11:00pm bringing memories of our week's experience at the World Youth Day. I could say it was a unique adventure coupled with some tensed moments. A moment with a stranger I still remember.
I have been walking down memory lane these past few days. I could not help but linger in that lane for awhile. I've stopped to sit on a bench to reminisce my teenage years. I hummed my favourite tunes of yesteryears. Before I walk out of that lane, indulge me one last time.
At most large family gatherings, the television room always becomes the teenagers' favourite hang-out. Very often, these youngsters would tune in to some station that features music videos. There was an occasion at my sister's house when the gathering became a little too boisterous. The adults were into their beers, whiskey and wine, trying to talk above the sounds coming from the television. Of course, the teens, tweens and younger children tried to compete with the adults. They turned up the volume of the TV.
One of the ladies, who obviously had enough of the cacophonous atmosphere, turned around and asked the children to bring down the volume. Her daughter, about 14 years old, quickly replied, "we can't find the remote control." She probably thought with that excuse, they could keep up the volume up. The group remained nonchalant. Her mother did not find a point in reiterating her request. She marched over to the television and manually turned down the volume. When she did that, a little boy sitting among them asked with a surprising tone, "wah! you can do that without a remote?"
Remember when children were used as remote controls? Most of the time, dad would ask the child sitting closest to the TV to turn the channel. Luckily we had only two channels back then. RTM 1 and 2. No choice. Can you imagine if satellite technology evolved but remote controls didn't?
We did not have 24-hour TV. When "Negaraku" came around, that was the end of the day's transmission. Most households would call it a night. That was also an indication for students who were studying that time is up. Also, if you could not finish your homework by then, you know you were doomed for punishment the next day.
It was also very safe for children to be out on their own. During the school holidays, I remember my mum telling us to "be out of her way" so that she could see to her daily chores. She meant the garden. We took that as an opportunity to go beyond the confines of our "pagar" (gate). She did not worry about us (or so we thought). After all, no one was sent out to look for us. We were on our own. We knew when it was time to go home. We figured it out more or less by the position of the sun. So it was always give and take about 30 minutes around 5:00pm. We always made it home safely - sweaty, tired and sometimes with minor wounds, which we temporarily patched up using leaves from trees.
I volunteered to be tagged. Typhoon Sue, blog owner of Tattlerama decided to leave this tag open to anyone who wanted to take it on. The rules of this particular tag are as follows:-
1. Go to Pop Culture Madness site.
2. Pick the year you turned 18 years old.
3. Get yourself nostalgic over the songs that year.
4. Write something about how those songs affected you.
5. Pass it on to 5 more friends. 
Why did I take up the challenge? It was a chance for me to walk down memory lane. I was just out of secondary school. The world out there was new to me. I was studying in Stamford College, P.J. I turned 18 that February.
1985. That was the year I nursed my first heart break. It was the year when I had my first job; part-time gig whilst waiting for my SPM results. It was the year I learned that guys can be mean without cause or reason. I think that was the most hurtful thing that happened to me that year. Much more than losing a boy I liked. I was ridiculed for a skin condition that stayed with me from childhood. I did not have a choice of wearing pants because Stamford College ruled that all girls wore maroon-coloured skirts, white shirts and the college neck-tie. I bravely wore my uniform by day and painstakingly applied the prescribed lotions and creams by night. (It was a slow process but my skin condition healed by my mid-20s)
It was another normal day at college. I walked into the empty Form 6 classroom with my friend, Christina. I accompanied her to that room because she needed to pick up a book that her cousin had accidentally left behind. I turned around to close the door. To my shock, I found a caricature of a pair of legs drawn on the wall - complete with large ugly dots splashed all over those pair of legs and written in bold letters "Jackie's ugly legs". I was close to tears but I fought it back. I was humiliated. I suspected who did it. It was that particular group of Form 6 boys. I was right. Christina's cousin later admitted his classmates' wrongdoing and that that drawing was intended to embarass me. It has been 22 years. In my heart, I have forgiven those boys but I will never forget an experience like that.
Apart from that hurtful event, 1985 also gave me many happy moments. It was the year I got involved with the Catholic youth group in my area and on the parish level. We had lots of good times. Sports meets, bible sharing, youth meetings, youth concerts, Christmas carolling and Christmas Dinner and Dance. I found comfort being in the company of my teenhood friends. We went many places together. We were an amazingly tight-knitted group of youth. Our parents did not mind our galavanting because we all knew each other well.
It was also a year I learned how horny some guys can get. No wonder daddy was so protective. He did not allow me to attend the Orientation Night held at a hotel in Subang Jaya. I could only attend parties at the homes of the people he knew.
That was also the year I learned that some students preferred their own extra curricular activities. Shah's Motel was their favourite haunt. ;)
So, what were the signficant songs for me in 1985? There were more than five but I will pick the ones that made me laugh, made me cry and made me realise there was more to life than just my little world of Malaysia.
1. Private Dancer - Tina Turner
This song will always bring a smile to my face. Stamford College's elderly principal was in a particularly bad mood one day. I was talking to a classmate about an assignment when the principal walked past us and grumbled about something. My classmate waited for him to be out of an earshot. Then he turned to me and said that our principal was in need of some cheering up. So he asked me if I was willing to rise to that challenge. Deep down, I knew I was not going to make his day any worse. However, I was curious as to what my classmate had in mind. He suggested that I should walk into the office and start singing "Private Dancer"and dance provocatively. Imagining the scenario was comical enough. Needless to say, the principal was spared of some croaking from me and I was spared of any suspension.
2. Can't Fight This Feeling - REO Speedwagon
I had the radio on in my bedroom till wee hours of the morning. It was during those hours that I could write my poems. I loved this part of the song.
4. Everybody Wants To Rule The World - Tears For Fears
My brains were fried from reading all the news I could get yesterday. So, I went in search for relaxing stuff to read. Then, I thought of Blogthings. It first came to my attention when I visited sYaNa's blog (see the foot of her blog). I thought it would be a fun way for you to get to know me (also an excuse to publish another posting).
Guess what? I have a purple brain.
| Your Brain is Purple |
 Of all the brain types, yours is the most idealistic. You tend to think wild, amazing thoughts. Your dreams and fantasies are intense.Your thoughts are creative, inventive, and without boundaries. You tend to spend a lot of time thinking of fictional people and places - or a very different life for yourself. |
| .... Marge Simpson |
 You're a devoted family member who loves unconditionally. Sometimes, though, you dream about living a wild secret life! You will be remembered for: your good cooking and evading the police Your life philosophy: "You should listen to your heart, and not the voices in your head." |
Saturn Sky |
 You're sleek and smooth, and you need a car to match your hot persona. Besides, sometimes you want your top up - and sometimes you want it down. |
I just read an article in the Reader's Digest - large print version - about drowsy driving. In case you were wondering, I still have good eyesight. I subscribe to the large print version because it is easier to read. Maybe I should start buying all my books in large print. That would certainly help save my peepers for old age when I really need it. Oh! you know, for reading prescriptions on those tiny bottles.
Anyway, I found an article about drowsy driving. Gregory Belenky, MD, director of Washington State University's Sleep and Performance Research Center said that there are eight signs to let you know you are too tired to drive. Read here
Now, I am not making light of something as serious as drowsy driving but based on the signs mentioned below, I can't help but think about the irritating yet comical nature of our Malaysian drivers. If you think about it, most Malaysians tend show these symptoms 24/7. We are in danger all the time!
1. You can't stop yawning. We yawn all the time. Even if your hard day consists of forwarding unnecessary emails to bored housewives like me (or so you think!), you are worn out by 3:00pm That is also the result of a good lunch at the local mamak stall kicking in. When the boss starts rambling on about what he expects out of you and your project, you try to keep the yawn from becoming a full-blown insult.
After work, you get in your car and yawn from a mind-exhaustive day. In traffic, you stare at the number plate in front of you and wonder when was the last time that number appeared on Magnum and Toto results. You yawn and stretch your arms. Now you wonder when that traffic will start moving. You look out your window and you become envious of the people walking by to catch the trains. They will be home soon while you still wait in traffic. You yawn again. Keep your eyes on the road buddy! You almost rear-ended that car.
(Cartoon from Reader's Digest. http://www.rd.com/content/openCartoon.do?index=14)
3. Mind wanders or you have disconnected thoughts. Who is not thinking of something else when driving? When the DJ on the radio starts to sound like a nag; that is a sign you prefer to let your mind wander. You switch off the radio and think what to cook for dinner tonight; or if "amachi" cooked her special chicken varuvel and wonder if you could drop by to 'ta-pau' a bowl of it. Keep your mind on the road buddy! You almost knocked down that old lady carrying her basket of groceries from the 'pasar malam'.
4. You have trouble keeping your eyes open and focused, especially at stoplights. In Malaysia, especially in K.L., we have selective sight when it comes to traffic lights. Drowsy or not, we run through lights, no matter the colour, no matter who may have right of way. This results in forcing those poor old tourist to scramble across the road with confusion. Hey! don't laugh. I was the one running behind that "mat-salleh" couple. Oi! Keep your eyes on the lights and obey it.
5. Can't remember driving the past few miles. That is because you were so caught up with what was shown on those big screen TVs at the traffic lights. Then you start cursing why the government so stupid for putting up those big screens. You start getting all civic-conscious about the dangers of driving and watching TV. Soon you will forget being a civic-minded Malaysian when your handphone rings and you answer the call without using the headset or blue-tooth device. By the way, you were supposed to turn right about 10 minutes ago.
6. Your driving becomes sloppy (tailgating, weaving, missing traffic signals). Drivers are sloppy from day one; be it "L" drivers (or "Lembu" drivers, as some expert motorist love to label them) or seasoned drivers. Road traffic conditions and situations sometimes make them sloppy. I will show you what I have done to my car rims due to sloppy-driving on narrow and/or icy roads. We also have new drivers who are eager to show their driving skills on the road. I won't go into details with my experience. Let's just say allowing your friend to make a U-turn on the fourth gear really does test your faith in God.
7. You have trouble keeping your head up. I am not referring to ones who are falling asleep. I am talking about that common sight - those buggers who recline their seats and pretend they are driving in some Formula 1 race. You try to look hard and see no head in sight. That gets you wondering, "who the hell is driving that car?" Another sight would be short people refusing to admit to their "short"comings and proceed to use the biggest car with the lowest seats; thus eliminating a view of their head. I always wondered if they could see the road.
"Hello, there are cushions to lift you up, you know! Don't shy lah. We all understand, not all Malaysians are tall. That's right, bring that chair forward a bit. Now put the cushion in place. Leg can reach the pedal or not? OK. There you go, can see the road now or not? Now, drive carefully and go with God."
8. You hit the rumble strips along the side of the road. This is an everyday practice for those who cannot stand being in a traffic jam. They will use emergency lanes to get out of their predicament. They will hit the rumble strips (if there are any in Malaysia) to overtake anyone who is driving in front of them. The groups of people most likely to be cursed at are:
a) old folks
b) lady drivers
c)"L" drivers
By the way, I know of one Malaysian lady who moved to the States and continued to practice the "normal way" of driving. To date, she has been served with three tickets (or 'saman' as Malaysians call it) with a warning that if she commits another traffic offence, her licence will be suspended for three months. Since she was (and still is) the only one ferrying her children to school and everywhere else, she could no longer take the risk of driving "the old way".
Hmm... wonder why driving habits have not changed in Malaysia? Maybe, tickets and warnings have a way of "disappearing". Just a hunch-lah.
When Zorro challenged me to write as if it were my last posting, I wondered what I should write. It has been more than four hours and I still have no idea.
Hey! wait a minute... I just got it. Silly me. I thought I had to write as though it were my last day on earth. It is not. Last posting means I don't get to publish my postings anymore. (duh!) With that imagined impending doom in mind, here's my wish for the world:
3. Smile... and the whole world smiles with you. Enough said.
4. Laugh. Learn to laugh at yourself. Be light and happy. Learn to see the lighter side of things. Learn to laugh at tough situations (as difficult as it may seem) but please do not laugh at the expense of someone else's dignity.
Mirth is God's medicine. Everybody ought to bathe in it. ~Henry Ward Beecher
Laughter is an instant vacation. ~ Milton Berle
Being single is sometimes not easy. Concerned aunties insist on giving their two-cents worth about what you should do. This was probably done to give you hope about the future and/or to end your so-called misery. I had more than just a couple of 'remedies' handed out to me when I was a single girl.
This gave me an idea to look up some old wives' tales. Some of them may not be familiar to you but you can be sure they were handed out generously to single girls at one point or other.
For instance, if a single girl wanted to know who she will end up with in the future, she was advised to do this:
"When peeling an apple, peel all in one piece from top to bottom or visa versa, (it has to be the whole peel), and then throw the peel over your left shoulder. When it lands on the floor look for a shape of a letter - it will be the letter of your future husband. "
My warning: If you happen to be going out with a Steven and the peel miraculously forms the letter "S", please don't be too overjoyed. While I would like to remain optimistic for you that Steven will be your main squeeze; be prepared. You may end up Shukri, Subramaniam, Soon Teck or Sudesh.
If you think peeling that apple all in one piece is a challenge, then try another method:
"Think of five or six names of boys you might marry, As you twist the stem of an apple, recite the names until the stem comes off. You will marry the person whose name you were saying when the stem fell off. "
My warning: If you cannot think of five or six names of boys, please don't throw in token names. Let's not play around. You don't want to risk ending up with someone you don't really fancy.
You may just want to heed this warning: "If you wash dishes and get water on your stomach area you will marry a drunk. You must wear an apron in the kitchen."
Lest you end up with this:
Ever wondered why rabbits and eggs make up part of an Easter celebration in the western world?
I was compelled to delete many comments from my last posting because I could not find those comments relevant to the title.
Maybe some people misunderstood what I was trying to express.
- Jacqueline Tegjeu
