VBS fun again!

NEVER a dull moment. Yes, that was the consensus of the children and teenagers in Sri Petaling, Kuala Lumpur who got together on the grounds of the Canaan Community Service Centre for the annual VBS (Vacation Bible School) recently.

More than 180 boisterous preteens and youths converged daily for a week, from 9am, for a few hours of healthy activities ranging from games to learning new songs to participating in sketches. In the process, many undoubtedly made firm friends!

With the theme being Game Day Central, the young ones were in for a week of fun and interesting sporting activities.

Donning caps on their heads, some looked real cool while others still needed Mum or Dad to hold their hands. But everyone was soon in the main hall where teachers led them all into singing catchy songs.
While the majority were initially shy and self-conscious — who could blame them as they all came from different schools in the area — they were soon participating with gusto, warming up to the friendly instructors there, captained by the ever-smiling Pastor Leong Siew Teng.

As the days went by, it was apparent that positive reinforcement and praises were constantly reiterated by the experienced teachers to gently guide the children.

Many discovered new abilities in the course of the fun activities. Who knew an innocent wide-eyed girl could execute a Chinese stick performance by the end of the week, or that a hip hop dance lesson was all it took to bring a pre-teen out of his shyness. When a seven-year-old can confidently walk to the front of the stage and address the audience after a few days of practice, you know that the organisers of the VBS are on to a good thing!

Besides practising for their performances during a concert which was to be held on the last day of the VBS, the children also coloured, drew, pasted and created a lot of handiwork which they proudly showed to their parents at the end of each day.

As expected, the energy and enthusiasm became more infectious as the days went by. Teachers and helpers formed close bonds with the children and their hearts must have welled with pride to see the children on stage at the end of the week. Indeed, who would have thought that the children could have done it in so short a time? It is surely because they truly enjoyed every moment spent there!

Many parents took the opportunity to help out in various areas such as cooking and teaching, and it was heartwarming to see the camaraderie.

From the traffic flow to the delicious food being served by the kitchen like clockwork, they all worked hand in hand to ensure the VBS was a success.

Reverend Bernard Ang, in his welcoming address to parents on “graduation day” just before the start of the concert, said: “Every parent places great emphasis on education. We just need to guide our children onto the right path.”

Well, that week, the young ones definitely trekked a fun and educational path, with joy and laughter warming their hearts throughout.

A Kerala adventure

The writer marvels at Kerala’s charming simplicity amidst life’s many complexities.



WARM smiles. Clogged roads and much honking. Beautiful horizons. Svelte bodies in colourful saris. Ayurvedic massages. Kathakali’s menacing eyes. The cool, gentle dab of pottu on my forehead.

A heady onslaught of images flash through my mind like some television broadcast gone berserk. How does one make sense of Kerala, often referred to in tourist brochures as “God’s own country”? Well, it does seem as if this huge swab of land on the southwest coast of India, with kilometres and kilometres of beautiful beach and swirling waves, is blessed on many fronts.

For one, the innocence of its people is tantalising. Children and adults alike jostle for a picture, the prospect of the occasional tourist stopping for a bit to reward them with a click of the camera almost irresistible.

And, needless to say, warm smiles are ever-present, except perhaps in rare instances as when a fisherman, his livelihood crushed by the monsoon rains, stretches out his weather-beaten hand for some money, his eyes defeated of will and purpose, an empty shell of emotion, shamed at the humiliation.
In general, however, the populace is a busy and contented lot. The day begins early, with the sky turning a lighter shade of blue at 6am.

At Cochin, where my adventure begins, the city stirs with almost a perceptible yawn and a quick jump out of bed.

Streets fill quickly with cars, motorcycles and buses, their incessant honking drawing little anger, mostly quizzical stares. With the morning sun soon reaching maturity, schoolchildren can be seen walking briskly in groups, their presence a welcome sight for photo-journalists eager for some colour to the drab city skyline, as are sari-clad women and men in dhotis.

From a broader perspective, Kerala is certainly intriguing for visitors. With the Arabian Sea in the west, mountains of the Western Ghats towering in the east and networked by 44 rivers, the Indian State boasts serene beaches, tranquil stretches of backwaters, lush hill stations, exotic wildlife, enchanting art forms and monuments, both historical and cultural. Yes, it does begin to sound a bit like heaven on earth.

For many who have not been to India, Kerala is probably the best place to start. To begin with, it boasts a literacy rate of almost 100 per cent. A higher stand of education normally equates a higher everything else, manners and cleanliness included.

At a village called Mararikulam near Marari Beach hotel in Alleppey district, 50km from Cochin, we visited a family whose livelihood depended on the weaving of floor mats on a flimsy loom. Yarns from coconut husks lined the floor, every centimetre of the sturdy threads a plodding and blister-inducing labour in the hands of the female old folk. Yet, for all their relative poverty, their young son, all of his 11 years, stood ready and eager to go for tuition class.

My guide tells me that almost everyone here takes pride in education, and much sacrifice is made to ensure every child goes to school. It’s a warm feeling that there’s a way out of poverty for the younger generation.

Kerala also boasts the highest physical quality of life in India, with the lowest infant mortality and highest life expectancy rates. It has also been called India’s cleanest state, which should put potential travellers’ minds at ease. I started my adventure armed with loads of medication for diarrhoea, fever and all other potential medical hazards. They remained untouched throughout.

Cochin (or Kochi), the commercial capital and the most cosmopolitan city of Kerala, is also known as the Queen of the Arabian Sea. With one of the finest natural harbours in the world, it was once a major centre for commerce and trade with the Arabs, Chinese, Dutch and British.

For us intrepid travellers after a restful night at the luxurious Taj Malabar, a day of sightseeing in and around the city is a balm. After all, we had endured a couple of flights (KL to Colombo and henceforth to Cochin) and half a day of waiting and trudging up and down the tourist van with much expectation.

So there we were soon ambling down the almost deserted street of Fort Kochi playing noisy (and nosy) tourists to view St Francis Church. It’s the first European church that was built in India, where the famous Portuguese explorer Vasco Da Gama was once buried. (His remains, however, were subsequently shipped to Lisbon.)

The Dutch Palace was another stop, a stuffy two-storey building with multiple rooms boasting intricate (but fast fading) 17th century murals depicting scenes from the epic Ramayana on its walls. It’s a magnet for visitors and students, with large crowds waiting to get in and us wanting to get out after a brief polite sojourn.

Then there were the Chinese fishing nets along Vasco da Gama Square, huge, towering cantilevered wooden contraptions that, I suppose, serve better as tourist attractions than trapping fish given the long, unforgiving monsoon season that plays havoc with the local fishermen’s livelihood.


The evening’s highlight – a Kathakali performance at an almost spartan primary school classroom-like setting – turned out to be an anticlimax. I blame it on my heightened expectations and the preceding hype.

In it, a sole dancer in heavy make-up takes on various roles based on themes from Hindu mythology, relying heavily on hand gestures and eye movements to convey his message. After 10 minutes, it quickly became apparent that such a performance will appeal mostly to enthusiasts.

But what did capture my rapt attention the next day on my trek through Kerala was the love for the environment by certain quarters in small but helpful ways. This in a country still noticeably Third World. I thought that with all their attendant problems of being such a populous country, going green would be the least of their priorities. How wrong I was.

At the Broadway (yes, you read right) market in Cochin, plastic bags were a no-no. Later, at Marari Beach Resort, located 50km from Cochin city where we spent the night, this “green” concept was practised to the hilt, from the use of paper bags to solar heaters. Almost everywhere one turned, there were reminders to reduce water usage and to keep the environment clean.

All this, of course, is quickly forgotten the day after when our party was plonked on a houseboat for a three-hour backwater cruise to the famed Kumarakom Lake Resort.

The houseboats may be a pretty draw, with yummy lunch served on board no less, but the living conditions of those who lived along the banks did not help with appetite. Women and children washed and bathed in the river, and their poverty was quite stark.

One family’s sole source of income depended on the benevolence of tourists who stopped to partake of a coconut drink for a mere RM1 per coconut. During the monsoon and heavy rains of the past few months, I dreaded to think how they could even put food on the table.

As my plane took off for Colombo from Trivandrum where we spent the night after a five-hour road journey, my hyperactive mind still could not stop the heady onslaught of images of my Kerala adventure: The little Indian boy who asked for a pen instead of money. The shy salesgirl at Kovalam who blushed at the sight of my camera. The skies which opened up as we were leaving the marketplace in Cochin. Packed buses everywhere with plastic sheets in place of glass window panes. The warm smiles of the fish sellers. My first Ayurvedic massage. Spices everywhere. The eerie yellow glow of my chalet. A grand view of the turbulent Arabian sea.

Truly I have gradually grown to appreciate India a lot more than just a week before. I definitely look at my Indian fellow Malaysians a little differently these days. Friends may jest that I have danced and sung around coconut trees in the few days I was there but truth be told, I think India danced to me and my heart sang heartily with it.

* The writer’s trip to Kerala, India, was sponsored by Sri Lankan Airlines and Kerala Tourism. The airline flies daily to Colombo from Kuala Lumpur, with regular connecting flights to Cochin. For more information, log on to www.srilankan.aero, call 03-2144-2139 or fax 03-2144-3278.

A defiant Kathakali, with eyes blazing

Here's the first of my stories on Kerala. It appeared on Oct 15 in the NST:


A Kathakali performance in Kerala, India sounds just grand. A pity all that stomping around in majestic headgear and elaborate makeup is just not drawing in the crowds, observes the writer.


SO who’s up for a little traditional Indian performance? With that, our guide led us down a little alleyway and up some stairs which opened up into a small classroom of sorts with a raised stage at one end.

The rundown nature of the place hardly befits the grand-sounding name that’s the Cochin Cultural Centre in Kerala, India. It may not look like much but never mind – it’s the performance that matters.

There to partake of what is known as a Kathakali performance, our group of 10 took our seats amongst a handful of foreign tourists. It’s a shame that this classical dance drama unique to Kerala hardly appealed to the locals anymore but I guess that’s progress.

I tried to maintain as open a mind as possible. What does it entail? My guide book tells me it’s a unique combination of literature, music, painting, acting and dance, with the dancer in a Kathakali performance taking on various roles based on themes from Hindu mythology.

Often referred to as “the stately dance of Kerala”, Kathakali literally means “story-play” and involves elaborate make-up and costumes.

With a tradition dating back more than four centuries, it is a highly stylish art, with some reviewers calling it “a deeply moving, immensely cathartic aesthetic experience”.

The makeup, grand costume, complicated hand gestures, exaggerated eye movements and feet stomping got my attention for all of 10 minutes before the monotony and the exasperation of not being able to comprehend anything of what the actor is trying to portray started to frustrate me no end.

But that’s hardly anyone’s fault. The themes are usually from Hindu epics and purana, with characters representing existence in the worlds of Gods, demons and humans. So unless you are a scholar or enthusiast of such epics, much of what is depicted will be lost on you, and quickly too!

Enthusiasts, however, beg to differ. “Once you master the art of viewing Kathakali, it’s very painful missing one, especially if the veterans are acting,”gushed one fan.

Kathakali makeup (using natural pigments like manayola) is a slow metamorphosis — of mortals into immortal deities and demons. A lengthy affair, the process takes two to three hours to complete.

We caught the end bit of the process just before the performance proper, apparently a not-to-be-missed part of any show. After another 10 minutes of that, and since hardly much had metamorphosised before my eyes, my mind started to wander, distracted perhaps by the thought that dinner will be very late that night. Well, the guide did warn us that some performances can last up to 12 hours!

But as the headgear was finally fixed on the actor’s head, he did become larger than life. I was transfixed when he jumped on stage and stomped around for a bit. His eyes blazed and his emotions lurched from one extreme to the next, expressing such volatile feelings as anger, sadness, love and frustration at will.

Much of what was communicated was through his eyes, which flicked up and down, right to left or just glared at the audience. A myriad of hand gestures added to the effect. Good thing there was an interpreter, for some expressions did look the same to me. Strangely, I started to empathise with his emotional outburst, and even marvelled for a while his ability to switch from one facial expression to the next.

Given his already fierce demeanour from all the makeup, costume and headgear, his most dominant expression must surely be anger. Well, looking at the near empty hall, this Kerala cultural icon has something to be angry about, doesn’t he?

The writer’s trip to Kerala, India, was sponsored by Sri Lankan Airlines and Kerala Tourism. The airline flies daily to Colombo from Kuala Lumpur, with regular connecting flights to Cochin. For more information, log on to www.srilankan.aero, call 03-2144-2139 or fax
03-2144-3278.

Wait till Dad gets home!

I wrote this article for Canaan Voices (Sept 2007 issue):


HOW not to be intimidated? I’m not talking about a domineering boss, bungee-jumping or even climbing Mount Everest. My concerns are more down-to-earth and ordinary but no less scary.

Okay, here goes. I worry a lot at being … wait for it … a Dad. It’s something that has terrified me for years. How (or why) do some people do it, I wonder.

With my two children long past the infant stage, you must think that I’m half way there. Actually, the worries mount. You know how people say that our children’s lives are like a white piece of paper when they start out? I shudder to think what it looks like at this stage in their lives.

A Dad is supposed to be a role model to their children. All the time. Not easy. When one is plain tired after a difficult day at the office (“go ask Mum!”), when you just want to let your hair down (okay, pig out), when you want to relive some crazy moments of your youth (playing an imaginary guitar riff to the accompaniment of rock music and gyrating nymphs on DVD), when you just want to curse (okay, this is bad)… in these vulnerable moments, Dad becomes A Bad Example.

Too harsh? Let me ease you into the intimidating bit first.

* You’re a father. Which means they look up to you for everything. You are supposed to know everything. And when you don’t, the look of disappointment in their eyes is crushing. It may be imagined but I tell you, it’s as real as can be in your mind.

* You’re a father. Which means you’re supposed to read to them/bond with them every night before they sleep. And when you don’t, because you had a very long day and you really, really want to catch C.S.I. (which you don’t allow them to watch because of the gore), they’ll have that sad puppy dog look again.

* You’re a father. Which means you are not supposed to be scared of the dark. But it’s midnight and that scene from Exorcist is still playing in your mind (yes, yes, I should have gotten over that by now). Your son wants you to get his stuff from the back room but you are acutely aware that the neighbour behind your house is having a wake. With strange sounds coming from there, do you gulp down your fear or show him just how much of a scaredy-cat Dad is?

* You’re a father. Which means what you say or do is etched in their memory… forever. So think twice before laying down a rule which you will never recall in the months ahead. One painful example: No reading papers or having the television on when dinner is served. You conveniently forget this silly rule when your favourite Hong Kong drama is aired. I can tell you it’s not easy getting through dinner with the children chiding you, the missus giving you dagger stares and you having to concentrate on the drama as well. As for reading while enjoying your meal, sigh, isn’t that one of the little pleasures in life?

* You’re a father. Which means you stand for everything that matter in their lives. Basically, this means you must plan, save, guide, chauffeur, love and protect them forever. It also means you must always give in, trust and leave everything to God if they grow up one day and choose to undo all that you have planned, saved and guided them to do. No wonder Dads have high blood pressure and little hair.

Okay, now for why being a Dad is good.

· Deep down, you like being a Dad. At the end of the day, when all the work’s done, when all the bumps have been smoothed over, when the noisy chatter and laughter of the house wind down, somehow being a father suddenly makes you feel privileged. You look into their trusting eyes as you ruffle their hair and kiss them goodnight and you know you have, for now at least, a special place in their lives.

· You get to lord over them. Occasionally, they protest but most of the time what you say goes. It’s a heavy responsibility but hey, someone’s got to hang on to the remote. As for other, more mundane life-changing decisions, there’s always the Missus.

· I get to buy stuff for myself under the pretext that the children will enjoy them too. Sure, Junior deserves his Gameboy but Dad gets to go a few rounds with the bad guys on the PS2 too!

So yes, despite myself, I’m actually enjoying the challenge of being a Dad. At moments of stress, I take a deep breath and plod ahead, knowing that, heh heh, there’s no getting out of this one.

I may complain loudly at having to turn back home for their buku kerja just as I am reaching the school gates, I may balk at having to give up my precious leisure moments to chauffeur them some place, I may feel financially pressured having to save for their education… but I tell you, nothing beats the warm glow inside when your little one puts his or her hand inside your palm so trustingly when you cross the street. So there!

Ephesians 6:1-4: Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right. "Honor your father and mother— which is the first commandment with a promise— "that it may go well with you and that you may enjoy long life on the earth." Fathers, do not exasperate your children; instead, bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord.

Hello

I'm back... Yes, it has been a while. What happened? Lots. For now, it's just that my heart and mind are in all the wrong places. But I am glad to be back, though I had to change my login, etc... it is good to be here again.

The day before Valentine's

Valentine's eve at Tony Roma's -- you know, the restaurant where supposedly great beef ribs can be found.

Luckily we made reservations for we could see people waiting to go in. But the food was okay only-lah. We all enjoyed the succulent prawns more than the ribs though. I suppose we are still Victoria Station loyalists, ha ha.

Commented to my Other Half that Valentine's Day now so unromantic -- with two kids in tow -- and so expensive some-more. Bill came up to RM264 *faints* and all we ordered were those tough ribs, a fish (very fishy-or!)-cum-steak combo and those delicious prawns on a stick.

Oh yes, we also shared two bowls or soup, plus we all ordered drinks (milk shake, a margarita, a pineapple mocktail and a hot chocolate).

As usual, being ravenous, we all whacked the food as soon as they arrived, so forgot to take pictures.

Here's one from the Net though:

My 'new' phone

What I finally bought. Second-hand some more. What to do, times are hard (or, as a colleague insists, times are lean). Whatever. What I do know is the phone looks great (I like it that it's so slim), the SMS and call functions work beautifully (which is my main priority) and it's only RM120. I like...

Stupid phone

My darned phone is causing me a lot of grief. I send out sms-es but people sometimes never receive them.

The result is, needless to say, some misunderstanding and cold weather.

I also cannot receive long messages (wtf!) and so sometimes I get angry with people thinking they are rude, uneducated and poorly brought up. Dang!

Should I buy another phone? But I paid RM1,900 for my Motorola E680 and now the market value is only RM400. @#*&@!

The Sony K750 looks quite nice even if it is only 2-megapixel and a bit outdated. I only have to top up RM250. How?

My stories

Found out recently that the story I wrote for the CBC newsletter finally made it to print together with the Vacation Bible School series of write-ups.

It must have been a little out of sync with the church leaders' idea of who gets to heaven as they included a disclaimer at the end!

But I do not really mind -- after all, I have so much to learn when it comes to being a Christian. But I really meant what I wrote and I hope it was a good read.

Anyway, here are some pictures of the newsletter.

Soul mates

Got a reply from Barbara and Lindsay whom we met on the cruise last year. I'm so thrilled that they still remembered us.

It's my fault -- I took a long time to send them an e-mail but finally got around to it. Thanks, guys, you're the greatest.

The way the four of us connected on the last two days of the cruise holiday, many would have thought we were long-lost siblings.

Well, I believe God brought us together for a reason, the simpliest of which is that we were meant to be the best of friends.

The way we danced on the dance floor, the way we shared a laugh or two over a drink, the way you guys waved and waved at us (on the sad day we had to leave) until we were a speck in the distance -- thanks, guys, again for the memories. Hope our friendship will last for many more years to come.

p/s Barbara, hope you don't mind that I'm duplicating the picture for my blog.

Need a break

The first week of 2007 has already passed me by and I'm still gasping for breath. Why, cos I not only have to wake up at 6am every morning to send LY to school, I also have not had a proper rest since Xmas.

I go to bed at about 11pm and I haven't been sleeping well lately (I'm kinda hyper when I have things to do or complete) so you can't imagine how exhausted I am.

Well, my boss Philip is back (since yesterday) so I guess it's time to take a breather.

Actually, it being 2007 is also a very good time to review what I intend to do with this blog. It has been gradually morphing into a diary of sorts (which I do not really want it to be).

I think the real cause of this is because I do not have time to really reflect on life and such. Penning my thoughts is one thing but I also want to put in stuff which I did or which happened to me. Just so that I can read back and recall when they happened, see? So most of the time, I just log in, put in what happened to me and then feel so woefully inadequate as a blogger. But I guess this will do for now.

Hmmm, yes, this is it -- it'll be a diary-cum-opinion-cum-rant kind of blog. How about it?

Japanese friends

Some visitors turned up today courtesy of Sam. Married to a Japanese more than a decade ago, Michiko (as she's known on her blog) was visiting Malaysia again after a spate of two years, this time with her two sons and a daughter.

After prayers at her mum's grave at Nirvana, the whole gang turned up at 7pm and we all went for a nice set dinner at a Chinese restaurant.

After dinner, it was tong yuen all over again at my house as I think my guests were craving for it and thus made advance request, ha ha. KK, my mum-in-law and the maid made them. KK's versions, as expected, were of the flat, mixed-colours and others in various shapes. Ha, ha.

The Japanese kids hardly spoke as they only knew a smattering of English words and no Chinese at all but they were polite and well brought up. They were big-sized though, with the 12-year-old daughter almost as tall as me. I thought she was at least 16!

...................................................................................

Phew, I am exhausted. Earlier today, I went out to pay my Great Eastern premiums and ended up at Low Yat plaza where I managed to lepak for close to four hours!

I was itching to treat myself to a gadget but did not know what to get. But I was tempted to buy:

* a hailer (RM69). Why, I don't know. To shout at my kids without exerting myself?
Maybe...

* a short-wave radio (RM400). This is like so last century that only a couple of shops stock them and in limited choices too.

* a Sony MP3 player (RM499). But I do hate wires dangling from my ears.

* a monocular. Why? Because I can look at the stars but I am quite fearful of seeing a UFO (as I think I did during my teens and the experience scared me stiff).

In the end, I went home empty-handed. Maybe another day...

....................................................................................

Tomorrow's the last day of 2006. Got two invitations to meet up for dinner -- from Ooi and Lian Peng -- but had to decline both as my family will be at KK's godmum's place for a BBQ. Sounds like fun!

The new me, I hope

It may be still a few days to go before 2007 but I have already decided that my main resolution will be: that I will always remain happy and cheerful in whatever circumstances.

We've all heard this -- that whether we are sad or happy, life goes on, so why not be happy? -- but it did not really sink in until recently.

What happened to trigger such a decision? Ironically, thoughts of mortality (personal as wll as those around me whom I love very, very much), my turning to Christ since April this year, the support of my friends and their example, worry over my other half's job (her constant travelling, especially) but mostly, because I WANT to be happy because I hope the people around me will not have to bear with my mood swings any more. Yes, I could be quite a grouch in the past, ha ha.

Life is short. Know that this is true. This is serious stuff. How I want to be happy because yes, time is always slipping away.

Thank you, Lord, for guiding me in my daily life, for teaching me so much, for showing me that joy does lie with me, if only I choose to grasp it. Thank you, Lord, for transforming me. I only hope I can live up to Your expectations.

Xmas at Eric's

Merry Christmas! Attended my first Xmas eve party last night and it was complete with carollers and grilled lamb.

Of course, the usual super ingredients were also present: fun games, group singing and great conversation with friends.

Family reunion

Came back yesterday from the second Fong family reunion up in Genting's Awana and I'm beat! But it has been a terrific three days and the memories will last a lifetime.

It all started with everyone leaving late from KL due to Sis 3's car breakdown saga. When it was finally repaired after about three hours, it was almost 4.30pm. But never mind -- we all reached Awana finally and had our potluck dinner of chee cheong fun, roast duck, curry chicken, rendang, yam cake and much more. Yum!

The best news of the night was of course Sis 3 striking it big at the casino and that meant our dinner the next night was on her. Hurray! She also bought durians and while they were RM24 per kg, they were delicious!

The night's programme also involved Bro 7 and Bro 6 entertaining us, including the former getting us all to sing, "Here we are..." and "Ta mu chi..." Cringe-worthy but fun nonetheless.

It was also Sis 2's birthday so there was also a cake. We could all tell that she was really touched by our gesture.

Bro 1 came up only on Saturday but we were all in Genting the whole day and only met up in the evening. That night was another round of games and exchanging gifts.

It's always a little sad when such close-knit activities come to an end. I can't wait for next year's when it's Bro 6's turn to host.