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.