Days of AsH

I  knew there was something odd about us and it's such a relief to blame it on where we live.  Somewhat akin to Feng Shui, the English have their Ley lines - lines that are in harmony with one another and utilise a mysterious aspect of the Earth's energy.  So I searched for our alignment, according to our postcode, and lo and behold .......

We are at the convergence of 3 Ley lines.  The red line connects Stonehenge to an ancient agricultural terrace; the green links two hills in a Roman camp in Beaumont and the blue joins a Saxon settlement to a bridge.  The upshot of this :  that we "live at a swirl of ancient energy  highways; this may mean that your area is a hot spot for paranormal activity or even for unidentified flying objects! "

That explains why we are what we are.  Phew! Thank goodness, it's not due to our defective personalities!

That explains my hoarding spirit that cannot resist accumulating 'junk'.   It also drives me loopy, giving me an urge every few years to pack boxes of all such paraphernalia off  to the motherland.

Just part of the attachment to be beamed off to KL.

Speaking of which, these were then transported  (not by teleportation) on Wed 27th.  As the weather in March had been abnormally cold - minus two to minus three at night, and hovering between six to seven in the daytime - I experimented with this mad hatter's trick of donning a summer hat so that my worldly and otherworldly goods will arrive safely!

In one of those boxes I packed this magic book.

It was written in 1902 and published in that wildly self-righteous land of plenty which has the feature of the Freemasons pyramid and the all-seeing eye on the back of their one dollar bill - wow! - this is real hot stuff.
Here's a page taken from that book, about a " Malayan Child Life ".  Do note certain sloppy errors like the child's name should be Busu, for the youngest in the family.  "Busuk" means smelly!!  I suppose the wrong spelling for Muar can be overlooked as the 'durians'  had been correctly spelled.

But today, there's not much care for children from the exotic parts of the world like Gaza or Vietnam.

 This mighty nation - this USA - is happy to abet Israel in wrecking the lives of children from Palestine and Gaza.

The drawing below was done by a little boy from Gaza.  It shows Israeli soldiers 'foraging' in his house for bombs, weapons, grenades, and terrorists!

I must say that Palestine or rather, all of the Middle East, must have very distressing Feng Shui and Ley lines.

As for our abode and the possible presence of UFOs,  I reckon these two men of my life, the spouse and Jack, would fit the bill.  Here they are enjoying  two and a half hours of opera music on the laptop OR probably communicating with their brethren from outer space.

Then today, on a shopping expedition , we came across Matthew Fearon busking in Leicester City Centre.  He sang "My Song" which I recorded and as we left to catch the bus, the Beatles'  "Here comes the Sun" echoed in the square.  Matthew has such a strong and beautiful voice, like a stream meandering in a forest.

This is one pleasure you can find when you live where three Ley lines converge!

P.S.  Matthew Fearon is also available on  YouTube.

P.S.  2.  We have a wonderful freight forwarder based in Birmingham.  His name is Andrew Blakemore at andrew.blakemore4@virginmedia.com  We have used Arcadia Freight Services to transport our goods (door to door) in 2 half-containers a few years back, and a pallet size most recently.  He is very efficient, courteous and helpful and his cost is very reasonable.  It's not my practice to advertise any one,  but Andy is such a dependable gem and a good egg!

 

Going Home (Leicester) from Home (Kuala Lumpur)

We used to be like this ...

......ancient like Methuselah and as tough as old boots.

But history repeated itself .....

.......when in April,  Mr Tough Boots was brought down by three slipped discs.  It left us knackered - just about ready to be dispatched to the glue factory.

But thanks to Prof. Du Wei, Assoc. Prof. Wei Hong Xin  (Tung Shin Traditional Chinese Medicine) and Dr. Low Eu Huat (Tung Shin Western Medicine)  and without depending on pain killers, they put the spouse back together - just enough to enable him and AsH to make the trip back for winter in Leicester.

We're off tomorrow and InsyaAllah when we get back in 3 months' time we shall look like this.

Eh yop - me duck!

Or perhaps, as we'll be hibernating this winter we may regress and devolve into two 13-year olds.

And so, salam and love to all in Singapore, Johor Bharu, Kuala Lumpur and AsH's readers in the ether.
However, I wish to record a special thank you and  xxx to our new-found and lovely friends (and neighbour) - Kakak Siti Zainon, Ken and Zarina, Daniel and Haiqal and  4-legs Spice, Betsy and Two-Socks.



"I'll have to say good-bye, until next time I fly."   Lely, this song is for you.

Trains and Boats and Planes

We have taken many great train journeys, from big ones like the journey across the Deccan Plateau from Bombay to Madras to little ones like the North Yorkshire steam train.    And  I remember with special affection the little rail journey in 1983 from Beaufort to Tenom in Sabah.

Tenom Railway Station

We have enjoyed spectacular sea crossings too -  from Wellington to Picton in New Zealand and on my own I made the romantic journey from Marseilles to Corsica in 1972 where I got as sick as a dog and threw out my dinner into the Mediterranean Sea.

As for planes, that started in 1972 as a huge thrill and now it has become one big yawn, herded like cattle from one airpen to another.

Now, when you get to the autumn of your years, one's mobility is circumscribed not by distance but by the state of the knees, the back, the hips and umpteen other parts of the body.  It is no more a question of traversing wild open spaces by trains or boats or planes.  It has been reduced to modest little steps  (with the aid of various thingamajigs like a Zimmer frame, walking sticks and a wheelchair)  like hobbling from the bedroom to the bathroom, from upstairs to downstairs and vice versa.  Little sorties to the kitchen for a cup of tea are such a treat.

And when you refuse to succumb to the impediments of a decrepit body and you make a dash-it-all  traipse to the Park or the shops, then you deserve a pat on the back  (Ouch!) even though you pay for it later with a pain that yells at you for being foolhardy.

But then you observe a friend like Loz, a few years younger than us, stuck in a wheelchair for the last 30 years.  He never fails, whatever the season, to 'take a walk' to Victoria Park with his dog every morning.  His gloves are worn from grasping and pushing the wheels of his wheelchair as he 'strides' to the Park.  His dog doesn't need a leash.  He knows how to walk at the same pace as his master on the pavement and when he gets to the Park, he goes hell-bent-for-leather for a good run, while Loz 'ambles' along the path in the Park.  Looking at that dignified joy for life, why should we complain?

On June 12th, we take another plane trip to Kuala Lumpur.    This time the spouse has a wheelchair - and this time he travels upmarket so that he can keep comfortably horizontal for most of the 16-hour journey.  I shall keep a close eye on him from the other side of the partition to make sure he doesn't run around chasing the stewardesses!!

Just two days ago, Maria and son Ariff, Hidayah and hubby Faiz played musical chairs in the KL house.  They have been shunting boxes of books, a huge bookcase, and a heavy metal 'treasure chest' to make room for a single bed in the Library - to make a day care room for Uncle Iain.

From here Unc can stagger along to make little forays into his garden,  totter to the kitchen where he will brew loads of  teh tarik for the young ones.  Most of all, the cats .........


Rusty and Socks



Professor Socks the academic reviewer

Comot the resident hedonist

.............especially Comot and her little fellow-travellers (aka fleas) to give him mental stimulation and buckets of love.

I cannot end this post without thanking with all our hearts Maria (orange top in the back row), Hidayah and Faiz  ( the laden couple standing to the right) and little (?) Ariff  ( in the greenish-blue t-shirt  in the front row)  for all  the caring help and support.  Bless your cotton socks!!

We will miss summer and our home in Leicester but it will be wonderful to get home too - on a plane and on the wings of a prayer.

Wicked Witch from the West (of Suez)

Been back for just a week and am now feeling a bit normal.  I do feel like a composite of the three wicked witches in Macbeth because since we've arrived in Malaysia we've brought in "thunder, lightning and ... rain".

On Thursday evening  the storm brought down the modem and the wireless - leaving us bereft of our toys.  With Faiz's  (our nephew-in-law) help, we managed to get it going last night.  But this afternoon it played up again and with guidance from streamyx staff I found out that the splitter had given up the ghost. HELP!!


Our return was marked by other interesting incidents.  Firstly one of the bedroom doors refused to open.  But Faiz set it right by doing exactly what the spouse had been doing - but I supposed he had a special twist of the wrist, being young and sturdy!  Then the toaster caught fire. The kettle refused to boil  due to damaged wiring.  What else??

Rusty our black male cat ...

was going about looking uptight and depressed.  He would not touch his food and was not as playful as he used to be.  Took him to the vet for two days running.  It was raining cats and dogs (ha ha) on the second visit.  His problem?  He had a problem with his KYBO - army parley for Keep Your Bowels Open!!

And now for the good news.  When we arrived on Friday the 13th at 8 pm,  we found ikan asam pedas  and sambal goreng tahu and tempeh in the fridge.  My sister was responsible for that.  Maria had cooked the rice. She also stocked us up with tea, coffee, milo, margarine, bread, eggs, tomatoes and salad!!

But there was more to come.

We found our bedroom cleared of 4 months' cobwebs and dust  - by courtesy of Hidayah.  We were bestowed with more meals on wheels from my sister for the rest of the week - yummies like masak lemak labu, mee siam, laksa, tahu masak taucheo, date cake, sambal ikan bilis & petai and pau daging.

How was I to know that this little girl would grow up to be the world's best sister and cook?  And how did I get to be the most thick-skinned moocher?

Absence makes the tummy very happy!!!

What a welcome home from the rest like Mus and Hannah, my sister's 7 KL grandchildren and today, the man from JB  (8 March 2011 posting).



 

Thank you all.  It's good to be home.

Soon I shall put the cliffhanger to rest and carry on with my role as the wicked witch of the east.

Hello Kuala Lumpur - Good-bye Leicester

By this time of year most migratory birds have already flown north for spring and summer.

Tomorrow these two geriatric cuckoos will fly south and should be in our abode, InsyaAllah on Friday the 13th!!!

It will be back to braving mad KL traffic for the spouse's twice weekly visits to Tung Shin Hospital (Chinese Traditional Medicine).

We shall re-commence our relationship with our crazy and stupid and stubborn cats - Comot, Rusty and Socks.  Hope they forgive us our absence,

We shall have our routine of  Mus popping in after work for a little chin-wag and  for his brother-in-law's teh tarik.  My sister can look forward to us waiting at her door,  mengendeng (mooching) for lunch.

We can look forward to academic and mind-boggling conversations and frolics with my sister's grand-children,  all 10 of them - but not all at the same time - oh no!!

Of  course we expect to be plagued by the second generation adults especially Maria, who uses the pretext of dealing with our administrative matters  just for a spot of Uncle Iain's KL-famous teh-tarik. There's also Hannah who drops in for a chit-chat about the trials and tribulations of doing law at UM.  But I also suspect (a prima facie case) that she loves her Uncle's version of cappucino coffee.

Then there will be the Rainbow Band kids  (they're all over 16 now)  from Singapore.  Lely and Ruqxana have  already made a booking for 4/5 June.  They're very considerate - giving us sufficient time to get over the jet lag.  (Oh no, not them again!!).  Din, the other one in KL, comes for cupboard love but he sometimes acts as a minder for the Dynamic Duo.

Good-bye No. 43 and Leicester.




My room will be bereft - of my mess!



Our dear, dear Jack and his seven cats.  Take care and do try to behave.

The most imaginative of Leicester's beggars.



The indefatigable dandelion - my role model.



Shy Ladybird - my best spring picture



Victoria Park.  How I will miss you!



Suspending Reality (CsH)

I guess I was born to be a rover.   Among  my many warts, I have a mole on  my right calf which, according to my dear old mum suggested that I will travel a lot.  That promise or threat was given to me more than half a century ago.  Indeed I turned out to be quite a traveller pre- and post- marriage  -  a sort of wandering and wondering Malay woman. 

My first and most favourite school Principal,  Mr Charles Lazaroo of Yusof  Ishak Secondary School  teased  Loo Lee and me about our  "itchy  feet"  when we asked him for advice about going abroad for our post graduate adventure.  That was in 1973.

But it was Abah who got me a-wandering.   When I turned 21,  he sent me off to take a solo trip by train to Kuala Lumpur to visit the relatives.  Ayah Long Mahmood  especially and Mamak Kassim  became my chaperones.  I felt quite chuffed  -  travelling all by myself for what was almost a 10 hour journey.  I had an interesting chat with a middle-aged  Australian Czech who was on his way 'home' to see his family in Czechoslovakia.   But most of the time I was too wrapped up admiring the landscape and the little towns along the railway route.

But that was only the appetiser.

Taking into account the family homes as well,  I have lived in seven cities - Singapore,  Johor Bahru, London, Bandar Seri Begawan (Brunei),  Leicester, Penang and Kuala Lumpur.

My list of addresses included  homes in Kampung Chantek,  Kampung Abu Kassim,  Jalan  Mas Kuning,  Alexandra Park, Boon Lay Avenue in Singapore;  Jalan Giam in JB,  Seven Sisters and Maida Vale in London, and  Anggerek Desa in Brunei.

After settling down,  No.10, Oxford Avenue in Leicester held the record  for keeping me in one place for 19 years.  When we were in Penang, we set up home in Pantai Jerjak.  In 2005 we moved to our present 'west wing'  just a few streets away from Oxford  Avenue and in 2007 we relocated to Kuala Lumpur.

691, Pasir Panjang Road aka 27-G,  Lorong Abu Kassim



58, Jalan Mas Kuning and sunnysideup (photo taken on our nostalgia trip to Singapore last year)



15-89, Boon Lay Garden  (our flat is second from the top-the 15th floor)



Anggerek Desa Flats  (top floor on the right)



10, Oxford  Avenue (picture by courtesy of pickledherring)




Setiawangsa  (picture by sunnysideup)

I've experienced more house movings than I've had  hot dinners!!        And yet ... this is only half the story.

For I am by instinct a rover.   Looking back,  I cannot remember being at home, in one 'home' or another,  for anything more than nine months.      That is, until our latest stay in Kuala Lumpur.    The trouble is,  I cannot stay still for very long.   The nomad in me begins to fret terribly.

I am still basking in the glow of  returning to our ' hearth and home' in Blighty.  For the moment,  it's sheer indulgence - ignoring and suspending  the realities of life around me,  like two of the three wise monkeys.

And I'm gonna go there free

Like the fool I am and I'll always be

I've got a dream, I've got a dream

They can change their minds but they can't change me
I've got a dream, I've got a dream
I know I could share it if you want me to
If you're going my way, I'll go with you.

Moving me down the highway,
Rolling me down the highway.
Moving ahead so life won't pass me by.

Talking a Walk

We went to our favourite watering hole at Taman Tasik Titiwangsa  this morning for a long cool morning walk,  tosai and teh tarik.

We got there before 8 o'clock and already all the car parks were full.  We drove past rows and rows of parked cars along the road, almost all the way round the Park.    We felt quite mystified.  Then we found the reason why.

These were some of the walkers.

They've been given breakfast, put on their kemeja-T and they're on their way.



But I sit and I wonder.  This is World Walking Day.  Here are all the walkers.  And all of their cars are holding Taman Tasik Titiwangsa in a tight clinch.  When it's time to go home, think of the revving engines and the carbon monoxide.

Then there's also Earth Day.  Shouldn't we be consciously conserving energy and switching off unnecessary lights every day?

But then I'm a party-pooper,  a grumpy old woman.

Perhaps it's because the coconut chutney, the dalcha and the sambar at the tosai stall are getting more and more diluted by the week and the aftertaste of MSG is becoming too biting.

Furthermore, this is the last of the good tosai stalls for us in Kuala Lumpur.

At least these four legs and the two feet are at ease.

Balik Kampung (CsH) or 'Going Home'

It's jalan-jalan (walkabout) time again from Leicester to Kuala Lumpur, for two ole gits who have their bums on two chairs.
I baulk at leaving just as Spring ( wet it may be) is sprung.

This time, we could not find the time to go for picnics in the Peak District, so I have to make do with the spouse's recollection of our last excursion.

But we look forward to catching up on the latest gossip with Rusty and Socks and of course the irrepressible and sometimes cantankerous Miss Comot. ( Messy)

Perhaps our nocturnal civet
is still around enjoying it's dinner from the mango tree.

But first there's this rubbish to pack. This is just a mere fraction of the total baggage, excess and all.


Also we have to eat up what's left in the freezer like these steak and kidney pies.

Finally, Iain and I are deeply grateful to my former Jurong Secondary School student, Oi Bek who ambushed us with this gift of a return ticket from Leicester to KL by SIA. Thank you dear girl. ( And pssst, we are planning a trip to Timbuctoo via Morocco ??!!??)

See you all later in Kuala Lumpur on 3 April. Ta ra !


Thank you donmad88 for this video. It was my Abah's favourite.

WILD NIGHT

Tsk! tsk! tsk! chided my niece Maria when I told her we did not get home until 1.30 in the morning after Putri Kama's big do on Monday 3rd August.
Oh what a night! As two OAPs (Old Age Pensioners) we felt very privileged to be part of this young crowd of bloggers - all Wild Thing(s) like in the song by the Troggs. We hoped we behaved ourselves and set them all a good example of what they can be like when they get to our age - although I somehow think they would be more badly behaved.
Thank you all for a supercalifragilisticaspialidocious evening. I wished I had done a walkabout to talk to all those who I only know by their blog names. Just as some have admitted to thinking that AsH is a man - I must confess that I didn't think Sakmongol would look like my former formidable mathematics teacher. I was terrified of him! Sorry Ariff.
Thank you Mak Andeh for making sure these two shameless night-birds got home safely and we hope to see you one Sunday for tosay at Shah Jahan.
I really would have loved you lot as my students other than that incorrigible Din. I would have appointed Putri Kama as the Head Prefect (whip supplied). Kak Teh shall be the Pretty Nerd Perfect (oops, Deputy Head Prefect) armed with a pair of can-huffs (oh dear, I mean hand-cuffs). As for Fatimah, she shall be the Chairperson of the LDDS although I would have a tough time catching her or catching up with her. Pok Ku, Uncle Som, AG, the spouse and I - we can be found in the Teachers' Common Room eating bread spread with genuine Milkmaid/Lifeguard condensed milk sprinkled with Ovaltine. As for the rest they will have to be Prefects too because as I observed from the Poco Poco, there was no particular leader to be found - it was just a beautiful mess.
Once again, thank you all, especially to Putri and better half for an unforgettable evening - from two knackered but happy ole fogies.

Finally, oh Pendekar Putri Sayang:
Langkah serentak alah sajak, sama bergerak,
Sikap gaya, alah sayang pendekar putri.
Bertepuk tangan amboi tangan tanda berani,
Tiada gentar alah sayang hai membela diri.

Grumpy old Woman (GOW)

Today, for the first time since we got back, I took the LRT to get to Ampang Park. As I was about to sit down on this empty seat in the train, this middle aged Malay man dressed for his Friday prayers gave me a stupid grin, barged in and took my seat!!!! I couldn't believe my eyes. The young Chinese lass next to him stood up to give me her seat but I thanked her and said "I don't want to sit next to him!"

I was fuming and I knew he dared to do this because firstly I'm a woman and secondly he thought I wasn't a Malay. That is a despicable attitude on both counts. I must say I was so incensed that I missed my stop. So I got out at KLCC to go back to Ampang Park. This time when I got into the train I didn't bother to look for a seat and just stood next to the holding bar.

Then I heard a voice from behind me saying "Macik, would you like a seat?"

It was a young Malay man, dressed for his Friday prayers. I was gloriously, happily surprised but I declined and thanked him saying I was getting down at the next stop.
Just before I got out at Ampang Park, I stepped back to thank him again and we exchanged nice smiles.

When I got home I described my experience on the LRT to the spouse and I suggested to him that God must be fed up with me grumbling on the blog about these instances of Malay rudeness - so God decided to shut me up and declare, "Okay then, this middle-aged Malay gave you a hard time, so here's this courteous young Malay to make up for it. Now stop being a GOW."

Okey dokey. But I still want to write this episode in my blog.

Puan Esah (CsH)

We got back to the house and the cats on Thursday mid-afternoon. They still remembered us and there was no sulking or biting despite our absence. Phew!!!
The verandah smelled of cat's pee because the neighbourhood's tom cats have been using our premises for loads of fun and games. As for the garden, it can but thrive in the tropics. The bunga tahi ayam, the bougainvillea, the cup and saucer flowers were bursting with bloom except for the frangipani, the spouse's favourite flower.

Where we live, the developers have planted a series of bunga cempaka on the wayside and when they are in full bloom the fragrance is quite intoxicating. The spaces in between (which are actually public domain) have been planted with flowering plants, trees of various shapes and sizes, serai and lengkuas by the house owners who live opposite these public plots.

Our neighbours, Puan Esah and Encik Yusof who live a few doors away from us had taken over a little plot about 2m x 1m in size and she had vegetables, chilis, serai, daun kunyit, lengkuas, banana and papaya plants growing in it. Typical kampung plants. They also made a kind of makeshift wooden fencing around this little garden. Again, typical kampung. Puan Esah came from a kampung in Malacca and she said to me they missed their kampung and the life style they had. Now they were in this Kuala Lumpur suburbia because this was where their children were. (That was exactly the same reason why my sister and 'Bang Long moved from their cosy house in Batu Pahat to Kuala Lumpur.)

Then about a year ago, workers from Majlis Bandaran came along, ripped up the little garden , dug up all the plants and threw them away. We found out later that this was done at the behest of the Datin who lived opposite the garden. She regarded it as an eyesore. Fair enough - but this was not part of her property and to add insult to injury she took over the same plot and started to plant (or rather got her maid to plant) a variety of flowers to provide a 'pleasant ' view from her house. She claimed she loved gardening but the garden plot of her corner house had been extended with concrete to enlarge her terrace house! It was a squalid thing to do, to chase out these kampung folks from this little plot and then to covet the same space for their ends, to grow pretty flowers. To me , this is the kind of mentality you often find amongst the Malay nouveau riche , our new middle class, or perhaps our new 'feudal overlords'.
In fact we were invited to visit their house and admire their English wallpaper!!

Years ago, Abah said to me the Malays are particularly partial to one nasty disposition - dengki, meaning spiteful. After over 50 years of independence, modernisation, material accretion and revitalized religious zeal, this streak still persists - from the lowest to the highest level. You don't need others to break up the Malays. They can do a jolly good job on their own. Thank you very much.

So, on the Thursday we got back, we went up the hill to buy some basic provisions. We bumped into Encik Yusof, he shook and held on to my hand and with tears shimmering in his eyes he said Puan Esah died just a few days ago on Saturday. I called Iain and he hugged our neighbour and Encik Yusuf recounted to us her last few hours. At last, Esah, you will find your little garden. Alfatihah.

I am, I said. (with thanks to Neil Diamond) (CsH)

It's been a long hiatus. Am now back in KL leaving behind a beautiful, golden autumn - leaves drifting to the ground in Victoria Park but not enough as yet for leaves-scrunching walks. I do miss the seasons even though it's not as cold as it used to be. The cycle of spring, summer, autumn and winter not only gives a regularity to your life pattern but it allows you to move from expectations to hopes. In the depth of a cold winter when your nose, albeit a flat one, freezes; when the bed is cold for the first half hour and your frozen feet make your spouse yell when you accidentally or sometimes wickedly kick his legs ; you cannot wait for spring. When spring comes, your heart sings with the freshness and the colours and the cheery light. The first flower you look for is the snowdrop. My late neighbour Eva had them in her front garden and I wait in eagerness for it to bloom each year. I think of the 'baby' snowdrop in the frozen ground and how it knows just when to rear its head upwards to tell the world there's hope, for spring is just round the corner. When Shah, my brother's boy, was just a little toddler living in Hull where his dad was studying, it was the sight of the snowdrop that helped him to recover from his asthma. When he started kindergarten, he would get home late because he had been picking wild spring flowers for his mum, like the daisies and buttercups. Years later, when he was 17/18 ??, he came to stay with us for his Easter break from University and he could still remember the crocus, daffodils, pansies, violets and many others. Childhood memories and knowledge; you never lose them.

But here in KL, the achingly-beautiful call of the azan brings a similar sense of hope and peace. We have been having so much rain lately, lovely and loud and brave !!. The lightning especially, cuts a line across the sky and we just love to sit and and stare, but sometimes we feel guilty when we think of the motorcyclists and pedestrians who have to travel in that heavy downpour.

Our stay this time is also for undertaking disconcerting family duties. The graves of my father and brother in Singapore are now going through the process of exhumation. They will be reburied with several others in a smaller plot. It has to be done because there isn't enough space for burial gardens in Singapore. But we will so miss the visits to each plot where the little shrubs that my late mother planted have kept going for all these years. How fortunate are the people of Malaysia, where graves , including the larger plots for non-Muslims are left untouched.

It's good to be back in my neck of the woods, but I do miss my other home . And I do feel lost "between two shores".