Experience teaches

 

Its been so long since I left my hometown, Lahad Datu.

I was about 11 years old.I still remember then, when my mom one day, came to talk to my class teacher. Next, she asked me to pack my bag. We left without giving me much time for me to feel the sadness leaving all my friends at St. Dominic Primary School, Lahad Datu. My favorite teacher, Mr. Joseph then teaching. He was the only teacher who saw me leaving. Recently I got the news that he passed away a few years back. Sad.

Little that I know, that my parents then, had arranged for me and all my 9 schooling siblings, a new school, prior to that day.

I came across a few challenges when I attended the new school. It was 1976 when I moved to The Peninsular Malaysia, Methodist Girls School (Primary). Brickfields, Kuala Lumpur. The first thing I noticed, there were many dark skin students. Later I knew that The Peninsular of Malaysia consists of 3 major races. Malay, Chinese and India. Those students that caught my attention were Indian.  In Sabah, where I was born, we were known by our ethnic, like, Kadazan , Dusun, Bajau, Pilipino, Suluk, Visaya, Bugis, Ida’an, Murut, Bagahak and many more.

I sat next to a nice girl. For the first time in my life, getting an Indian acquaintance and I happened to be her first Sabahan friend. She gave me a warm  welcome, while I , for the whole week, kept my self quite, not to get too much of my Sabahan accent heard. The naive me, was ashamed for that.

Another challenge, I could not communicate confidently in English, although I understood what she was saying.  She asked me many things.  We both were excited getting to know each other. Both from different background. Slowly I practiced my English speaking skills, through replying to her questions. I should thank her, but we lost contact and I’ve forgotten her name and her look. Bad memory.

Living in a the capital city was a big change to me. Among many, I learned how to commute on public transportation. I learned the West Malaysia Malay accent and I learned how to Ice-skate.

That was for the first time I walked into the Ice-Skating ring, at the former Asia Jaya building. It was like a dream, standing on an ice floor. Being young and naive, but active and creative, it only took me about half an hour to learn how to ice-skate. Not excellently, but , OK.

Our neighbor in Bangsar was a Chinese family. They had a few dogs. One day, we heard her dog crying, as if being beaten. It was a long haul day of dog screaming. My brother and I, who loved puppies, then, we wondering what had happen. Later in the evening we saw a barbequed dog served on the table. It was a special occasion for Chinese. I couldn't remember the name of the occasion, somehow I could not forget the image of the naked dog being served. Later I knew, that the longer its being tortured to death, the better the taste.  A Chinese friend told me that.Then I knew that dog is edible. No..no..no..I’ve never tasted dog meat.

Another neighbor were a group of university students. All malays judging from their looks.The house was always noisy. They laughed, they shout, they sing. Later I knew that one of them was the late popular singer, Sudirman Hj Arshad. Those were the days when Bangsar used to get a flash flood. And those guys were very helpfull, helping my dad pulling our floating car from almost being brushed by the flood to the nearby huge drain. Thanks God, Bangsar today is no longer a flood prone area.

Any festivals were fire crackers festival to us, during our kiddie years. I joined my brothers shooting those flats above us, with the flying fireworks. It was like a war. Such a dangerous game. And yes, I enjoyed the moment. It was only now I realized what a great danger we could have caused. Of course I wouldn't let my kids do what I did.

My high school was totally out of the way from the primary school.The Masjid Negara (National Mosque) was a walking distance and located along my way to school, from to our house in Bangsar. With a group of friends, I preferred to walk there, attending a class of Qur’an reciting. Kids being kids, it was more of enjoying my time being with friends, rather than seriously wanting to learn the Qur’an reciting.I attended the class almost everyday, somehow.

During my secondary school, I started to speak with West Malaysian Malay accent. Some could not identify where I was originally from. My Sabahan Malay accent almost vanished.If I could turn back time I could have taught my friends some Sabahan Malay words.

English Communication Skills was much better. I found many new friends from Malay, Chinese, Indian and Punjabi background. Many times visited their house. My ‘Ustaz‘ ( teacher of Islamic School) used to say, ‘Do respect other religion’, and I always have that in mind whenever I visited their house. I found it interesting to learn others’ culture and religion.

In school, I started to get involve in a few activities. I joined choir group. I enrolled as a Girl Guide. It was fun. Later, I learned from my kids that Girl Guide is no longer exists, today. What a pity.

Once, I was charged for throwing rubbish on the school compound. The punishment was something that I wouldn't forget and I hate it. I had to come to school on one Saturday to clean the toilet. The good thing was, there were many of us being punished on that day. We completed the task, so fast. It taught me to be clean and stop throwing rubbish on a wrong place. I still hate the bad experience though.

My parents had always set our weekends occupied. If we were not sent to ice skate, we would be either on trip to Penang or Singapore, or enjoying our picnic by the beach at port Dickson or Morib, or at piano class, tuition etc..etc..etc.. There were always a weekend activities. Since the car could not occupy all 9 siblings, we had to take turn. However, those who had their turn, wouldnt be left without anything planned for them. The time spent by my parents on our joy were the moment I value, forever.

When my parents moved back to my hometown, they left me and my 2 brothers under the supervision of the maid. We lived with the family for a year. It was a whole community of KTM (Keretapi Tanah Melayu) employees living in the area. The area today is where the Maybank building is standing tall, in Bangsar. Then, I learned using toilets shared by the whole community. I learned to shower in an open shared big well. I played with their children. Once I witness 2 elderly lady screaming and pulling hair. They fought for something, which I was too young to understand. Neither did I nor my brothers complained about the inconveniences to my parents though.

In 1978, we returned to Sabah with a whole new chapter. I believe, all those experiences contribute to who I am, now. I wished I could describe to my parents how much I appreciate their love and the wisdoms that they wanted me to gain from the experience.

In my recent visit to my hometown was just a 2 nights stay. To optimize my time spent with them, I opted to sleep in their room. That gave me a chance to have a pillow talks and morning talks with my mom, while my dad who teaches us to be helpful and love others regardless of who, are now too heavy with sleepiness due to bunch of medicines that he consumed everyday. He hardly talk and hard to remember.They both are looking much-much older than the time when they left me in Kuala Lumpur.Their moves were getting slower. Their wrinkles are deeper. I wished i could stay longer to take care of them.My pitiful parents.

It was so hard for me to leave. Now I’m back to my own family, missing my parents.

Perhaps its the culture that I could not openly express it, but in my heart, I always say this “I love you mom and dad”