From There to Here

Phew!!! Tiring but meaningful and fun! That is the way I’ll always remember my last weekend – 2nd to 4th October 2009.

Being in the organizing committee of community project in the interiors of Jerantut, it was an adventure to spend the weekend in the village.

Before the journey began, I had wanted to withdraw money from an ATM on the way as I only had RM 20 with me. But then we missed the ATM and my colleague who was driving said I wouldn’t need any money, and even if I did, I could just use his. So I agreed. (I’ll get back to the ATM issue at the end of the story…he he)The journey to Jerantut was more than 2 hours, and the winding road did make it more tiring. The accommodation provided was the homes of the villagers, where 2 people were hosted by a family. However, I was entitled to a hotel room in the rainforest resort. Having 3 other girls in my committee, I invited them to share the room with me, asking them to bring their sleeping bags along.

It was a cold, rainy day, when we reached. And it took us another half an hour to reach the resort from the village. Upon reaching the room, there were 2 single beds and my assistant had this splendid idea of two us sharing a single bed as we were not very big sized. Well, we fitted in the beds….but my assistant kept tossing and turning and I don’t think I slept well that night. Nevertheless, I enjoyed the company. It was the first time, by the way, that I invited a few others to share my room.

The next morning, I was the first to rise at 6 a.m. I entered the bathroom and turned on the hot shower as I felt really, really cold. I could hear the water pressure rising but there was no sign of water. I turned on the tap but there were only drops of water. After waiting for about 10 minutes, I realized that was going to be my bathing water! So, in my shivers, I cupped the droplets of water in my hands, my fingers tightly closed, pouring it onto myself, little by little.
After that I told my girls to get ready one by one, my assistant being the last. She was the funniest of all! She never stopped mumbling and complaining in a very comical way about the water problem, from the minute she woke up till the time she got out of the bathroom! She was basically talking to herself the whole time, while the rest of us laughed at the ‘morning entertainment’ she was giving…ha ha!

After breakfast, we got a ride to the village from another officer who was at the resort. The four of us crammed into the back seat, and my assistant still didn’t stop talking! She went on and on about how long and winding the journey was, her headache, her stomach ache etc…the journey was about 35 minutes. My three girls kept swaying from the left to the right until I told them to fasten their seat belts. It’s funny that although they’re just a few years younger to me, I feel that I play the role of a mother. I could only laugh to myself.

I enjoyed the hillside greenery, with the sun peeping out from the mountains amidst the mist. I knew I would miss it. However, my girls could not take the journey up and down the hills, and they were closing their eyes, trying to sleep. Thus, I agreed to check out and get a foster parent in the village for the second night.

The journey to the village was an exciting experience in itself. There were buffaloes and cows along the way. We almost hit a cow, and a jungle chicken. The jungle chicken really amused us in the car. It was crossing a bridge, and when our vehicle approached, we really thought it would back off. Instead, it didn’t! It walked boldly, and the girls started screaming, thinking we were really going run over it! But the little fellow had it all planned. Inches to be hit, it spread its wings and simply flew to the other side! I had to say, “Nak jugaaaaaak dia melintas!”Ha ha…. And my girl said, “Kena letak trafik ‘light’ lah kat sini, satu untuk kerbau, satu untuk lembu, satu untuk ayam hutan!” Then the other officer said, “Bukan ayam biasa tu, ayam hutan! Dah biasa dah dia tu.” That left our heart ticked till we reached.

Our program went well as planned. I was supposed to play netball, which I don’t fancy (furthermore, the village team consisted of strong women who looked like pros, and I was more worried about getting injured), so I ‘forced’ someone else to stand in. I enjoyed playing woodball, though, and I managed to score one hit, after failing the first two rounds. I was surprised myself that in the final round, I managed to hit it in 3 attempts, out of the permitted 4. Ha ha…tried applying golfing techniques reversely, and it worked.

That night, we were presented with a cultural show where the natives did the ‘tarian sewang’, something like a jungle dance with a few people hitting the ground with wooden poles, a lead singing, and a group dancing around in circles. The adorned themselves with coconut leaves, braided across their chest and made into a crown. And it must be noted that the performance would go on and on until enough people joined in the dance and filled the circle completely. The song would be repeated over and over until the guest of honour joins and requests to end it. That was interesting (but if you don’t know, you’ll sit and wonder when it’s going to end). I knew because I happened to sit beside the guest and he told me. I must not forget to mention we had power supply problems in the rather run down hall, thus experienced black out for a few minutes.

But there was something even more shocking. As soon as the show was brought to a close at about 11.30pm, the emcee announced that the dance floor was open for ‘joget lambak’ (group dancing) for another 2 hours, while the band continued playing . The young and old simply sprung up from their seats, cleared the chairs, and started dancing as if they were in a disco! “This is their kind of entertainment here, I suppose,” I thought to myself.

I went there with my most ‘decent’ clothes, as a gesture of respect to the villagers – as in ‘menutup aurat’ – a rather loose blouse long enough to cover the thighs, long sleeves, with a moderate neck line. “Tudung” was of course out of the question, although many were encouraging me to wear one. It surprised me to see the village girls there dressed like in the city! Free hair, tight tops with pretty low necklines. I think I looked more of a believer of their faith compared to them!

On the second night, a religious talk was part of the program that we organized, and it was held in the mosque. I tagged along and sat outside the mosque. My assistant and a few other girls accompanied me. I was trying to listen to what they had to say from the outside. It can be interesting sometimes, with moral anecdotes. Trying my best to be respectful of their faith and beliefs, I dressed in the ‘baju kurung’ to which many complimented, and even encouraged me to complete it with a ‘head cover.’ I just smiled and said “Dah ok dah macam ni.”

After 3 years being with this community, I’ve finally reached that stage where I do not feel like an alien or the odd one out, as I used to feel in the past. I am happy that I’ve been successful at the adaptation process and can fit in pretty well.

I realize that people notice and make certain comments. One of the senior men joked and said that throughout my couple of years here, I must have eaten the most in functions compared to the others of their faith. Surprised, I asked why, because he knows how little I eat. He replied, “You never miss our ‘breaking fast’ event, our ‘night prayers,’ our ‘religious talks’…We hardly see the faces of the others our own faith. Although you don’t join with us, there’s always food for these, and you eat the most, since you attended the most!” I just laughed, but I know he meant something. The way I see it, being in the organizing committee, it’s just my responsibility to be where I’m supposed to be, without violating my own convictions. In fact, although I am in other religious places physically, my heart and mind is always focused on the One I believe in.

Our time there was fully crammed with activities, from sports to service to the villagers. Food was a challenge for me. I don’t eat the delicacies of this place, strange as it seems, even after 3 years. I can’t take ‘tempoyak,’ ‘ikan patin,’ ‘ubi with santan’ and what not that they consider special. I don’t take beef nor buffalo meat. For lunch they served packed food, and the minute I opened the packet, the smell of ‘tempoyak’ just put me off. I couldn’t eat anything at all in it, so I made do with the leftover doughnuts from breakfast. Everyone kept asking whether I had my lunch, so I simply said yes, or they’d make a big fuss and there were no eating shops around. Moreover, the town was about 40 minutes away. Only my girls knew.

Now coming to the place of my stay there, we spent the second day in our foster family’s place. The ‘makcik’ welcomed us warmly. I was so grateful that she gave a generous serving of ‘kuih raya’ to which I gladly helped myself, being very hungry indeed. She said she had cooked rice with a strange ‘ubi’ dish and asked us to eat. My assistant looked at me, wondering whether to spill the beans that I hadn’t eaten. But I was glad she knew better to be silent.

As for the house, it was a simple wooden and brick house. There was a little ‘pondok’ outside the house and you would be amazed it was equipped with a small wall fan. The house even had Astro. The ‘pakcik’ in his sarong was typing away on a laptop! However, the house lacked a very simple yet essential fitting – the room we were given didn’t have a door! It only had a transparent lacy curtain. When the ‘makcik’ told us that, my assistant and I were all smiles and simply said, “Tak apa….kita tak kisah….asalkan boleh tidur cukup baik lah tu…terima kasih ambil kita..” After we went into the room, we were wondering where to change our clothes, and decided that the bathroom was the best place.

The bathroom….hmmm….that is the biggest challenge of all. When I went in, based on experience, I knew the toilet wouldn’t have a flush. That was right. Then, the walls were made of adjacent wooden planks, so peeping would not only be possible but way too easy. To make matters worse, there were holes on the bathroom door and around the wooden walls.

I spent the longest time in the bathroom – bringing with me a plastic bag of t-shirts and a long towel. I spread the towel across the door and hung my t-shirts on whichever holes my eyes could spot. I think that itself took about 10 minutes, inspecting every possibility! To make matters worse, the ‘pondok’ outside was just facing the bathroom, and our two foster brothers were chatting away. I felt totally uneasy to have my bath, and finally resorted to taking water from the ‘bathroom’ area into the joined ‘toilet’ area, where half the wall was brick, but with large ventilation holes just above my head…sigh……. Finally, I went back and forth with a t-shirt and my simple bath lasted almost 30 minutes! Life is a little more complicated for girls who need to care a little more, I suppose.

My assistant, another girl and I shared the double bed at night. It was a bit too much of a crowd, but comfortable enough. It started to rain and the zinc roof had holes. It was super cold and I slept with a jacket on. Our foster mother told us of the recent hailstones that hit their village, causing holes on the roof. In fact, one house even got hit by a chunk of ice the size of a shoebox! I just prayed for easy weather, and thank God, although it rained, the roof didn’t leak. When we woke up in the morning, our foster mother had already prepared ‘roti canai’ for our breakfast.

The next day was the closing event, it was my job to pin the corsage onto out VVIP. While I was waiting at the gate together with the welcoming committee, the village head came and stood beside me. I remember seeing him previously at every related meeting, but somehow we never spoke. He asked one of his boys to snap a picture of all of us standing in the line, and then left quietly with a smile. At the end of the line, I heard one of my male staff comment, “Dia nak bergambar dengan cik kita je sebenarnya! Ha ha…” I laughed to myself, because previously that guy kept joking that the village head would be delighted to host me if I wanted.

To sidetrack a little, talking about pictures, we had booths of exhibitions during the day. Other agencies were present and I just walked around to have a look. I made a few friends and chit chatted with them, even signed up as a volunteer for a good cause. When they found out which agency I was from through my application form, they treated me like a celebrity – they had a picture taken with me! He he….it was quite funny and sweet.

It was also in that booth that we realized what a small world this is. One of the boys remembered seeing me in Kuantan 3 years ago – when he hit my friend’s car while parking. I was in the car and didn’t even come out at that time, yet he was able to recognize me. Amazing! Imagine meeting in someone in the interior of Jerantut!

Now, coming back -the closing ceremony. We had lunch after the event. I was the only lady from the organizing committee who was supposed to sit on the VIP table. The lunch was held using the school canteen, and thus the tables were long. I was heading to sit at the end of the table when the host called me to sit with a few of the VIP’s wives. “Good, good…the other end of the table” I thought to myself, but I thought a little too early. Someone else set there and I was guided right to the centre of the table, in front of our VVIPs!

The main reason I prefer to sit hidden away is because I don’t eat the special dishes and I would definitely be questioned. True enough, they observed that I didn’t touch the steamed ‘ikan patin’ which looked like a black catfish, nor beef, and they asked how could it be even after 3 years. Fortunately, they were not offended as I was eating with my fingers just like the rest of them, and they asked me to help myself generously to the prawns and salad.

One of the middle aged men from the village, who was very tall, came and shook my hands – that really surprised me because men don’t usually shake hands with women this side of the town. While shaking my hands, he looked at his lady friend and joked, “Macam mana kalau ni jadi No.2 saya?” We just laughed. (I realized something. Smiling and laughing – homour – can save you from situations where you’re lost for words.)

After the lunch, we headed back to our foster mother’s house. My girls and I gave her a ‘tudung’ and a big umbrella as a parting gift. She packed us some banana chips that she fried herself. Then all of us from Kuantan gathered to leave as a convoy. The vehicle I was in was the head of the convoy. I love my colleague’s punctuality (he was in the army before) when he fetched me exactly on time. In fact, that is the reason I like to ride with him. But a shame, we had to wait for all the rest. He kept lecturing the girls about how they would already be dead if they were late on the battle field!

On the way back to Kuantan, we stopped for a rest beside a petrol station. My colleague forced me to get something to eat, and I had a bun. Then he rushed us all to begin our journey back. I thought I was the last one to board our vehicle because I took some time to pack a hot drink. (My stomach was hurting and I wanted the packed drink to function as a hot bottle on the journey back).

As soon as I got into the front seat, I asked my colleague to drop by at the petrol station to see if there was an ATM machine as I still hadn’t withdrawn money. I asked the girls if there was one, without looking behind, but there was no response. So we just drove through and continued chatting as we found there was no ATM. Then my colleague got on the road to head back to Kuantan without any thought of turning back. Instinctively, I looked behind and exclaimed, “Mana dua lagi yang kat belakang?” Only then did he realize we had left the girls behind! We both roared into laughter and slowly reversed back to get to the rest place.

By then the girls had boarded other vehicles and the other drivers were laughing uncontrollably as they stopped by the side of the road to drop them off. “Itulah…lambat lagi lain kali…nanti kena tinggal…,” my colleague forced his words through the hilarity…and that kept us laughing for quite a long way! This is one incident I believe the girls and I will always remember…he he.

All in all, those 3 days were among my most enjoyable experiences throughout my time here. I believe it’s because I have learnt to widen my space and allow more people into my life. Of course it also meant that I had to slow down a little to match others’ pace and put their needs above mine, but it was worth it. During the time I’ve been here, I’ve always asked the Lord to teach me how to love my people with His love. Now, after 3 years, I can say with conviction that I love them. Though it may not be a bed of roses all the time, love will keep it alive. So, I thank God for all that He has done to bring me from there to here.

Seeing Your Own Reflection

What do you see when you look in the mirror?

A familiar face that believed in looking at the world through angel eyes - looking for goodness, love, faithfulness, kindness, peace and joy? Or is it now a blazing heart; boiling with anger, angst and frustration towards life and your own self – leading to thoughts and emotions that you never imagined would grab a part of you? Do you see misery fogging up the glass that only a fading shadow reflects against the dim light? Are you losing your faith in goodness when all around is far from freedom, justice and equality?

What is happening to you? Greek philosophy says, “Know Thyself.” Understanding the self is a very reflective process that will never reach completion until we breathe our last. Knowing why you behave the way you do, why you think what you think, why you say what you say – sometimes it feels like a mystery, but most of the time it’s not.

When you keep everything to yourself, there’s only so much you can know about your own nature. But once you allow yourself to get close to others, to let them under your skin; when you take off the mask and just let them see you as you are – you discover things you never knew about your own character.

Your insecurities, sensitivities, need for acceptance and need to be understood surface before you even realize it. In fact, you never knew you could be this way. You realize the Jekyll and Hyde within and you don’t like what you see. It’s painful to acknowledge that you have reached a point your heart literally pumps up when the thoughts come flooding in – robbing you of peace, joy and love. A prisoner of your own device, you collapse to the ground and question yourself, “How did I get here? What have I done? … I was not like this before…”

Where is the love? Where is the joy? Where is the peace? Where is the hope?

Why do you keep running away? Why do you keep coming back? Why do you watch others and take the weight of the world upon your own shoulders? Why must you care what others say, think or do? Why are you beginning not to care at all?

Why are you starting to believe? Why do you betray trust? Why do you hold on to the past? Are you moving on? Why do you think so much? Are you forgetting to dream?

Why do you expect people to understand your steps that are meant to be walked alone? Why are you so engrossed in your own world that you forget to try to understand others?

Why are you trying to change? Why are you remaining the same? Why are you rebelling when your aim has always been to strive for perfection?

The questions are a million…the answers are elusive…some answers you do know, but it takes a little too much to accept things you cannot change. You realize you are not sure if you’re strong enough. Only the love of Christ and prayers of those who care carry you through.

Now, the time has come for you to rise on eagles’ wings over sun.


Psalm 139:23-24
Search me, O God, and know my heart. Test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me and lead me in the way everlasting.

-Untitled-

“Seconds, hour, so many days…You know what you want but how long can it wait…Don’t know where the future’s heading…When you think you’ve lost your way… What if my chances were already gone…started believing that I could be wrong………….”

Lyrics that go straight to the heart, despite the many critics that say the song is full of worn-out clichés.

What do you do when you don’t know where to go?

What do you do when you’ve made a mistake?

Do people enjoy falling along the way?

Do you want to return into your own little world, where you had always existed alone?

What if memories are impossible to forget?

Is it wrong to want to have a clean page after you have erased your own scribbles?

What is it like to be misunderstood?

What if you want to get away from every thing, once and for all?

But despite the burden in the hearts, there’s one thing that forces you to move on, whether you like it or not:

Matthew 4:44…He [Jesus] answered and said, “It is written, ‘Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God.’

“So, here I am, still holding on…With every step, you climb another mountain…every breath it’s harder to believe…You’ll make it through the rain…weather the hurricane…there are no boundaries…..”

2 nights in the wild – or almost ‘wild’

When was the last time you went to stay in a chalet but lived as if you were camping? For me, it was just last week, from the 24th to the 26th April 2009, at Taman Negeri Endau Rompin (Endau Rompin State Park).

I went there on a work trip, as we had a community project with the people living in the interior. So, the nearest accommodation from our event location was this state park.

Being responsible for arranging the rooms for all participants, I found that the only chalets left after fitting in the invited guest were the 2 that had no indoor bathrooms. So I allocated one to my male colleague and his guys, and the other for my girls and me. Since we were going to be neighbors with the guys, it didn’t feel too bad – compared to sleeping alone in tents.

At first my roommates and I switched off the lights, but some sounds bothered us on the first night. Thus, we turned on one of the lights. For your information, all kinds of strange creepy sounds could be heard loud and clear the entire night! (It’s the jungle, what else could we expect!) Sleeping in a new environment was definitely a problem.

However, on the second night, my girls and I were too exhausted after the night event in the village, and travelling half an hour up the unlit, long and winding road back to the chalet. We slept like the dead! In fact, a camper very near our chalet went hysterical twice that night. Almost all the residents heard her screams, but none of us did!

Bathing was an adventure. Since the bathrooms were outdoor and there was a whole bus of campers on the site, we had to vie with them for a shower place. After seeing a long queue outside the bathroom, my girls and I gave up as we had to rush back to the village school for the night event. The other alternative was the river, and it was an enticing idea.

How often do you get to bathe in a scenic river, so close to nature?

So we headed down to the beautiful river, surrounded by greenery and reflections of trees. It looked very deep on both sides, and I was afraid to enter deeper, as alluring as it was. However, my staff convinced me that one side was shallow, and that it looked deep because of the rocks.

So, I braved myself to the rapids on the other side, gripping her hand all the way. I didn't regret it. The water was slightly below my chest, much chiller and fresher compared to the river bank.

Suddenly I saw water monitor lizards swimming by, but they didn’t come too near to us…Phew, what a relief! You know, when they move in the water, you might mistake them for snakes...and they do resemble crocodiles!

So, that was my bath on the first evening. I have to admit neither of us brought soap – so we used just fresh water, as my staff said, “like the original people”!:P

And you might have already guessed the consequence…I started itching that night… on my neck, hands and feet. (In fact my feet still itch now, and I’m religiously applying antibacterial powder!)

The next morning, we had to be up by 5.30 am. My Muslim counterparts went to pray at the surau nearby the bathroom, and I told them I’d be allright alone using the common bathroom. I didn’t switch on the light as it attracted some huge insects. Halfway through my dipper and pail shower in that congested space with a squatting toilet, I heard louder footsteps outside the door.

I presumed they must be from someone waiting to use the bathroom, so I hurried myself. That person switched on the lights, but I didn’t object, being hesitant about talking to strangers. A few minutes later, I opened the door, only to see a young boy at my face.

l quickly looked away, partially covering my face with the clothes in my hand, feeling ‘not appropriately dressed.’ I was in a t-shirt and towel wrapped around my waist. I quickly headed back to my chalet. As he shut the bathroom door behind him, I instinctively took a peak. You wouldn’t guess how I felt!

The door was made of white plastic – meaning, with the lights on in the dark, you can see an artistic silhouette of whoever is inside. And as I saw his outline, the realization that he might have been watching mine filled me with embarrassment. But there was comfort in knowing he was not my staff. Such moments are better of with strangers! Ha ha…

I was suddenly reminded of a story my chalet neighbour told us the night before; about the ‘orang asli.’ He said that the natives bathe stark naked in the rivers. When others see them, they only cover their faces, not their genitals. If you ask them why, they say, “Everyone looks almost the same neck down. Only our faces are different. If you cover your face, no one will know who!” “Makes sense,” I thought, and laughed to myself… What a start to the morning!

After I got dressed, I saw my male colleague in my neighboring chalet walk back from his bath, in his towel. He cheerfully said he took bath with only his underwear in the river! I told him he needn’t highlight the ‘underwear’ part, feeling awkward about his joke, as he was much older than I. Instead he insisted that it was not a joke, asking his company to vouch for him – it was true! They seemed embarrassed to admit that they did the same too. Once again, it made me laugh, giving me one more reason not to feel so bad about that ‘bathroom incident.’ Underwear vs figure? I think you get the idea…he he:P

Another ironic incident is that I arranged all the comfortable chalets with indoor bathrooms for our guests. And it so happened that elephants stepped on the piping system that pumped water to their chalets, and that disrupted their water supply! Pity them – they had to rely entirely on the river or walk all the way to the common bathrooms. Only the common bathrooms had continuous water supply, and those were far from the cosy cabins, but very close to the campers & myself! Just to let you know, the water supply came from the river, and you could find dried leaves flowing together with the fresh water from the tap!

The most troublesome thing about our stay was that we were on a semi formal / casual dress code. So, although we were staying in the jungle, we had to dress up well for the event – including ironing formal clothes and wearing working shoes. And our event was not on the camping site. It was in a school about 30 minutes from our accommodation. The way from the main road to the main entrance of the state park was a dark, long and winding uphill drive. And I didn't want to leave anyone behind, as locating them in a place without network coverage would be an arduous task.

For the night event the second day, I was the last to leave the place as I wanted to ensure none of my girls were left behind. I dressed up in a dazzling red blouse and black slacks, with court shoes. The moment I opened my chalet door, a huge, white and brown insect landed on my hair, that I had neatly clipped into an elegant bun. Quite surprisingly, I didn’t scream. Instead, my heartbeat rose and I simply froze!

Then I regained composure and tried to gently push that insect away without messing up my crown of curls – which I successfully didJ. I was amazed at my own reaction in a different environment! If it had happened at home, I think my handbag would have gone flying and my hair would have been a total disaster!

The two nights there we had barbecue by the calm river while some went fishing. We had fresh prawns and fish. During the barbecue of the first night, when I was throwing my leftovers into the dustbin, a jungle guide who was helping clear the place had his hands full with all the paper plates that the guests left behind. I helped open up the garbage bag, preventing the rubbish from falling to the ground. His eyes sparkled with appreciation, as he said, "Thank you. Awak baik," before I walked away.

On the second night, this guy came over and got acquainted with me. He was a flamboyant Malay guy around my age, who called others "Awak" (you). That was a new thing to me. At the park, he was the only one who called me by name, without ‘Cik’(Miss) or 'Puan' (Madam). He was a very cheerful and entertaining guy; sure to make you smile! I bet the tourists love him!

He kept adding food to my plate and refilling my cup. Although it was a self service barbecue, I ate my fill without leaving my seat on the bench. It was an enjoyable chat and we could have talked longer, but my middle aged neighbor (the same guy who bathed in his underwear:P) who was chaperoning me back to the chalet said it was time for me to sleep.

The pleasant company doesn't come as a surprise– it turns out we’re ‘orang kampong’ – from the same hometown. He was encouraging me to come camping another day, saying he would be my guide from the river to the interiors. You wouldn’t believe my silly reply.

Having recently watched Lake Placid, I asked him “Are there crocodiles in the waters? I’ve already seen the monitor lizards. In the movies, they’re in green rivers…” When he said no, I asked, “How do you know? Maybe it’s there, it just hasn’t showed itself.”

He laughed and said I was too influenced by movies! However, I am still not 100% convinced by his answer that the water flows rapidly and will sweep away crocodiles, even if any. I think, one can never know enough inside the majestic creations of God – the jungles and the wild… Who knows?…Maybe somewhere deeper inside the jungle?…A lost one?… But perhaps you shouldn’t listen to me & my imaginations, I’m not an expert in this field :P

The strange thing is that I never actually feared wild animals while on the site, although a poster in the entrance said that many species of the wild could be spotted within the area. Perhaps, I didn’t believe one could see them easily from the chalets, and I never did.

But when I checked out and chatted with the camp guides one last time, I was shocked when they told me a few bikers just spotted a tiger crossing the road. I missed it by only a few minutes. In fact one our guest also experienced a tiger flashing by his car in the main road, in broad daylight! The camp guide also told me that he once stayed in the chalet where I spent the nights, and saw a full grown tiger at the door of the bathroom nearby (the one I used). He completely freaked out and jumped over drains to seek refuge inside the site office!

To think that I so boldly bathed alone in that bathroom – totally oblivious to the wild that walked around so freely. (Actually that explains my coolness – you know they sometimes say ignorance is bliss:P!) They said that tigers don’t harm humans as long we don’t disturb them, but I think I would still be afraid. In a way I felt relieved that I didn’t come face to face with the fangs of a ferocious creature. But really, I was disappointed that I didn’t get to see one ‘live’ either. The way the guides describe the encounter makes you want to feel it yourself - they say the tiger's eyes gleam and you will stand in complete silence, watching its raised fur against the wind, with both fear and amazement....As the camp guide said, that is ‘nasib’ (fate).

My only regret throughout this event is having a fresh, red bruise on my leg. The ‘accident’ took place at the school field during the game of ‘coconut bowling.’ It’s a game where ladies throw the coconut instead of a ball, to hit empty cans that are arranged into a pyramid, with lanes drawn in chalk on the field. Just too bad for me that the coconut was hurled by a strong woman in full force, and it headed the wrong direction, right to my legs – I didn’t see it coming! Boy, it sure hurts, still red even now!

But I suppose, if I compared my unforgettable days to that bruise, it’s a fair trade. The state park is place I’ve always wanted to see, and mingling with the locals was interesting. Though I didn’t get to join the outdoor activities at the state park, I got new acquaintances, heard unbelievable stories and gained an extraordinary experience. Those are etched in my mind, and I thank God for His protection and pleasure during my stay there.

JJ

2009

Golf and the Mirror

Somewhere in my readings of Robert T. Kiyosaki’s books, I recall him saying “Playing golf is like seeing yourself in the mirror.”

He went on to explain why businessmen played golf before deciding whether or not to have dealings with a person; implying that you can somewhat learn a person’s character by watching him play. You can understand yourself and others better. His words intrigued me.

And so it happened, by chance or intervention, that one my colleagues who plays golf came to see me before he got a transfer. Somehow the topic came up. Before he left, he took the initiative to hook up another colleague to teach me a few swings of golf. My teacher seemed more eager than I and asked me everyday, when our first lesson would be. After many postponements due to work, it finally came to pass!

To sidetrack a little, even before we began, I told my teacher of what a ‘kaki bangku’ (in Malay: someone who is not good at any sport – directly translated: bench feet) I was. But I didn’t say that in my childhood days, I used to be very shy, quiet, timid, conscious of making mistakes in public and sensitive to people’s watchful eyes – resulting in a kid that preferred to sit on the bench and just observe, sometimes with a book in my hand. I had attempted some sports, only because it was compulsory. I didn’t like games where you have to ‘fight’ with so many others for a single ball. In university, I took up tennis for recreation. Although I didn’t quit, I was always counting the days to the final lesson as it turned to be stressful instead - the harsh coach made every session a pain to endure.

Back to my golf teacher, he’s a well built, middle aged, sturdy man, who always speaks on an assertive note. He took me to the shop to get my glove. As for the equipment, he let me use his to give golf a shot, seeking out the lightest iron as his was meant for men. It was my very first time in the range, and my teacher was extremely patient in coaching me. Being a left hander, I was told it is better to learn the conventional way for ease of finding equipment. So, I agreed.

After 2 hours, I still didn’t manage to get the ‘full swing.’ However, I did understand what it means to see yourself in the mirror when playing golf (or rather, learning, for me).

My teacher, who was observing my body movements, kept pointing out the mistakes. One in particular: after the swinging the iron, I hesitated upon nearing the ball, which is why the ball never made it more than 2 meters away.

“Just let it go…Swing it full…don’t think too much… just hit it!”

My teacher kept saying, but I still found it difficult simply release.

I saw my own reflection –that is exactly how I approach new things in life. Trying to understand enough, contemplating whether or not I am doing it right, if I could really hit the mark - all which make me slow down upon reaching that moment in time to ‘just do it.’

We shouldn’t limit ourselves with doubts when we have the potential to go further.

Another lesson I learnt was about focus. “Keep your eyes on the ball, until after you’ve hit it,” my teacher advised me.

He said the reason the ball headed the wrong direction was because I turned too quickly to see where it was going, resulting in my entire body making unnecessary movements. I realized that that’s what I do in life too. Not keeping my eyes on the goal until it is fully accomplished, and looking if I can see results before it’s time. It causes me to lose equilibrium and feel disappointed. What we actually need to do is keep our eyes on the right thing, and do it right. Then the results would work out for itself.

The third element I grasped was the importance of control and balance. The term ‘keep your feet on the ground’ to imply firmness really made sense in the game. My teacher remarked I moved my hips and feet too much.

He said, “You’re just supposed to swing the iron, but you are swinging your whole self together with it!”

Yeah, sometimes I lose balance, and that makes me lose control. If my feet were planted firmly on the ground, I would have had more control over my body. In life it’s like that too. Sometimes failing to make a stand, can send us flying in a different direction. Little things that should be put in their place, if neglected, can cause a whole chain of reactions.

Finally, I discovered that discipline is the key in achieving anything at all, even just to learn how to swing a golf club. When my teacher said my arm was not kept straight, I worked on it till it improved a little. Then he reprimanded my feet and hips, and I focused too much on that till I forgot about the arms and started bending them.

That’s when I recognized the importance of discipline – we are creatures of habit, and shaping our actions to the acceptable, desired pattern requires going against what we normally do. It needs focus and control on every aspect that we want to change. And that takes a lot of effort, time and perseverance.

After those two hours or so with my colleague, I also realized I have changed a lot since childhood – in regards to sports. I didn’t seem to mind making such glaring errors in front of others. (FYI: the closest balls were all mine :P), though I admit a tinge of embarrassment after all his tips (but what do you expect, it was my first time!). And I was ok with my teacher commenting on me in public, with many eyes on me (I learnt to watch them back – their moves, I mean). The training on my job has done me good personally, I must say. And I was happy.

Not forgetting my observations of my teacher – that he is a patient man, and can be nice. It’s funny to remember we started on the wrong foot at work. I asked myself why I never thought of this earlier. Everything has its time and season, I suppose.

Those were the few things I learnt in my first experience of golf. And it amazes me to think a game that originated from some shepherds knocking stones in rabbit holes could gain such affluence, commercialization and offer profound meanings. The minds that created the rules, strategies and added final touches to the sport must be sheer genius!

As for me, I don’t know when I’m going to get the swing, but some golf sure made me see myself.

-JJ-