Some people said, "O Allah's Apostle! Meat is brought to us by some people and we are not sure whether the name of Allah has been mentioned on it or not (at the time of slaughtering the animals)." Allah's Apostle said (to them), "Mention the name of Allah and eat it."
Semalam saya menerima emel ini dari salah seorang saudara baru yang berkerja dalam pengkalan tentara Amerika. Emel ini bukan untuk saya sahaja tapi untuk semua yang telah dan sedang berkerja dalam pengkalan. Saya kira ada dalam 35 nama dalam senarai emel itu.
Sudah 4 tahun saya mengelakkan diri dari bermakan-makan di rumah kawan-kawan Islam yang tinggal dalam pengkalan. Tak suka makan bersama mereka sebab ada 2 garisan. Satu untuk saya dan orang-orang melayu lain dan satu lagi garisan untuk orang-orang dia.
Garisan itu dipandukan oleh hadis di atas.
Saya bukan pandai sangat berbahas mendalam tentang ugama. Saya juga pernah membaca hadis di atas itu, tapi tidaklah saya terus terjun dan makan daging orang kasi atau dijual di kedai-kedai merata.
Ada banyak lagi ayat-ayat dalam Qur'an yang menguatkan supaya kita makan daging bersembelih cara Islam tapi mereka dalam pengkalan mengambil hadis ini sebagai garis panduan untuk melantak tulang rusuk lembu macam harimau lahap.
Mereka bukan orang cacat mental atau banggang fikiran. Dan berdebat apa saja pun dengan mereka, mereka pasti menang.
Mereka orang pandai, pandai dari segi membaca dan menulis.
Jadi kalau mereka ingin membuat hadis ini sebagai garis-pandu makanan harian mereka, siapa boleh larang?
Lantaklah engkau...sebut aje nama Allah dan makanlah daging steak yang tebal berkilo-kilo, gong-gong rusuk lembu panggang berketul-ketul, stew ekor lembu berjela-jela.
Tapi tak perlu jemput saya sama...thanks but no thanks.
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
MDM
Aku tangkap sayap angin
dan melayang ke hujung langit
lalu lebur berguguran di ubun-ubun bukit.
Tanka ini saya dedikasikan khas untuk penulis karya di atas, seorang sasterawan terkenal di Msia sejak zaman 80an.
melayang hujung langit
nun ubun bukit
surat lapuk terselit
mengharap kamu datang.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Made in India
Suhu pulau ini mencengkah ke 33c. Pagi selepas suruk panas dah menaik hingga ke 29c.
Lebih berbahang dan panas dari Msia sekarang. Kalau di Msia pagi masih dingin lagi, suhu antara 23c atau 24c tapi sini kena pasang 2 kipas di ruang tamu. Saya dengar berita di Eropah sekarang yang suhunya naik ke 44c, seramai 27 orang sudah menjadi mangsa kepanasan ini. Semalam saya masuk bilik mandi sauna, ternampak seorang puan dalam umur 30's, badannya berbelang-belang hitam putih. Nampak dia gosok-gosok badannya macam perit sakit semacam. Rasa kau, nak sangat kulit hitam, kan dah nahas jadinya!
Doktor kata jangan pakai air-con selalu sangat, waktu nak tidur pasang sejam dan siang kalau boleh tutup air-con untuk memaintainkan (BM+BI) immuniti penahan sakit badan.
Macamana jalannya air-con boleh jatuhkan immuniti penahan sakit badan, itu saya tak tahu...dia kan doktor pepandai dialah nak kata apa...kita cuma ikut aje arahannya.
Dalam berpeluh-peluh masak petang semalam, saya terdengar lagu kat atas itu.
Eh, mana datang keluar lagu bollywood tengah-tengah kampung ulu Jepun ini? Takkanlah jiran tua-tua sebelah minat bollywood tiba-tiba?
Cari punya cari punca lagu...rupanya anak sulung itu tengah muat-turunkan lagu ini ke komputer ribanya. Pertama sekali, saya tulis anak sulung kat sini sebab kalau tulis nama dia, dia tahu saya ngumpat story dia. Kedua, apasal mereka namakan laptop...padahal bukannya letak kat riba pun bila digunakan?
Bila terdengar lagu bollywood ini, macam terasa kat kampung Radin Mas dulu, masa tu umur saya baru 4-5 thn. Orang sebelah, bukan sebelah saja...tapi rasanya semua rumah buka siaran lagu pemintaan bollywood setiap petang pukul 4 sampai 5.
Macam ada pesta, kalau setiap rumah mengeluarkan lagu yang sama.
Tapi yang pelik, macamana si sulung ini boleh melekat dengan lagu bollywood tiba-tiba? Kalau dah sampai Spore dan sudah terdengar lagu ini, lalu dia jadi minat...saya fahamlah juga. Ini belum pun pergi sana, dia dah sibuk download lagu bollywood...apahal? Mungkin ada kaitan dengan entri ini...
Itu pun satu soalan saya tak tahu jawapannya...*sigh*
Anyway, sementelah saya sibuk mengumpat lagu ini, baiklah saya buat dedikasi.
Saya dedikasikan lagi ini pada kak yan, kawan lama yang telah hilang di dunia siber ini tapi dengan jejak kasih dari AiniZakri "terjumpa" semula.
Kak yan...sila nikmati lagu ini dan masa mendengar itu, kenangkanlah juga kisah-kisah romantik waktu muda dulu dengan "hero tamil" yang kak yan sangat sayang itu.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Post typhoon malaise
I put it in a pot, filled it up with earth and add some fertilizers. Water it lovingly and placed the pot in a nice shade, away from the strong summer sun.
Then, the typhoon came and blew the whole pot away and there goes everything that I planted in the pot.
Hey, that was my brains in the pot...
Then, the typhoon came and blew the whole pot away and there goes everything that I planted in the pot.
Hey, that was my brains in the pot...
Friday, July 13, 2007
Post typhoon report
A truck that has been flipped over by strong winds is seen in Naha, on Japan's southern island of Okinawa, July 13, 2007. A powerful typhoon stuck the southern Japanese islands of Okinawa on Friday, pounding them with torrential rains and high winds before it heads north towards the nation's main islands. The plate number has been altered by the source. (Kyodo - JAPAN/Reuters)
In Okinawa, men trying to clear the damage clung to trees to withstand the violent wind and rain, which was so forceful it uprooted trees and knocked over large fences, television footage showed.
"This is one of the biggest typhoons we've experienced in Okinawa," a local hotel employee said by telephone.
"We islanders are very nervous. It's fairly dangerous to go out or even drive a car as trash and broken trees are flying in the air," he said.
Seventeen people have been injured in Okinawa since the typhoon approached Thursday and at least one is in a serious condition, according to the prefectural government.
Latest figure of injuries after this report is 23 people with one still unconscious.
The "extremely strong" by the meteorological agency, is packing wind gusts of up to 252 kilometres an hour (156 miles an hour) and moving north at 30 kilometres (18.6 miles) an hour.
My doa for the safety of friends and their families all over mainland Japan.
Please stock your food supplies and make sure you have candles and torchlight with battery.
Monday, July 02, 2007
Retarded Defence Minister
On Aug. 6, 1945, the U.S. dropped a bomb nicknamed "Little Boy" on Hiroshima, killing at least 140,000 people in the world's first atomic bomb attack. Three days later it dropped another atomic bomb, "Fat Man," on Nagasaki where about 74,000 are estimated to have been killed.
But Defence Minister Fumio Kyuma said...
"I understand that the bombing ended the war, and I think that it couldn't be helped," and he said he did not resent the U.S. because the bombs prevented the Soviet Union from entering the war with Japan, according to Kyodo News agency.
In other words, the defence minister is saying, its alright for the US to bomb the two cities, afterall Japan would lose the war one way or another.
In yet another words, who cares about 140,000 + 74,000 lives that were killed as long as it prevented the Russian from attacking Japan.
In yet, yet another words, the Japanese ministers are chosen from one of the World's Best Academy of Mentally Retarded!
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Koubo extract detoured
I am giving the answer for the entry below.
The thing is, all the trash in Japan that you dump at the designated point-of-collection belongs to the government. Nobody (not even the public dumpman) and they mean it, Nobody has the right to claim that trash. So, the answer to the question is obvious here.
Aluminium and steel prices is high right now. There are many public things made of steel being stolen right under people's nose. Huge steel bells in front of shinto shrine, village emergency steel alarm-bell to warn villages of houses on fire, drainage covers, manhole cover and even unused railway tracks are now victimised. The thieves sell the stolen steel to be melted down and the payment is quite worth the trouble.
Every Thursday of the week, is the collection day for aluminium cans and such. There is this old man who make sure to come by before the public dumpman come to claim the treasure. This old man with an open air truck would go around the neihbourhood pincing those aluminium cans.
But you must remember same as the money found earlier, these aluminium cans are government property. The government recycle and sell them to the aluminium can manufacturer. The sale money collected would add some income into their budget for future upgrade on machinery and equipment.
So, what I am trying to say is the old man is stealing government property by pincing all the aluminium cans.
I just remember as I write this, years ago when I was about 6 years old. We didn't go to any kindergarten or the likes because there were none around. We kids used to be left on our own in the daytime and we just go around in groups doing nothing. Those time there were no phobia on rapist or child molester.
But, there was this boy who had a brilliant idea. He suggested we go around collecting bottle caps, those aluminium type, like the ones on beer bottle now.
So, we went to the river banks and all over doing our collection. We had no container to put all the caps and my dress ended up as a bowl to carry our priceless collections.
We collected for about a week and had like 5 rice bags of bottle caps, then we all went to the karung guni shop. The karung guni apek looked at it and said, "ah, ini tak tak guna punya balang, tak boleh juan lor."
See how silly we were, first thing we should check for the value of the caps. We were really disppointed because I had already planned to treat myself a big air batu kacang with the sale money.
You see, I was willing to wade in the dirty and muddy river with mouse carcass and the lot to get the caps. I smelled terrible at the end of the day and my legs was bloated with pekung buta, yellow with pus from the river infection. I still have bisul marks on my legs till now and am looking at it while writing this, hahahaha!
Actually, I wanted to write on koubo extract, something happened to me with koubo extract and I detoured. I promise you beautiful readers, I will do that koubo extract next round. Ok kan?
The thing is, all the trash in Japan that you dump at the designated point-of-collection belongs to the government. Nobody (not even the public dumpman) and they mean it, Nobody has the right to claim that trash. So, the answer to the question is obvious here.
Aluminium and steel prices is high right now. There are many public things made of steel being stolen right under people's nose. Huge steel bells in front of shinto shrine, village emergency steel alarm-bell to warn villages of houses on fire, drainage covers, manhole cover and even unused railway tracks are now victimised. The thieves sell the stolen steel to be melted down and the payment is quite worth the trouble.
Every Thursday of the week, is the collection day for aluminium cans and such. There is this old man who make sure to come by before the public dumpman come to claim the treasure. This old man with an open air truck would go around the neihbourhood pincing those aluminium cans.
But you must remember same as the money found earlier, these aluminium cans are government property. The government recycle and sell them to the aluminium can manufacturer. The sale money collected would add some income into their budget for future upgrade on machinery and equipment.
So, what I am trying to say is the old man is stealing government property by pincing all the aluminium cans.
I just remember as I write this, years ago when I was about 6 years old. We didn't go to any kindergarten or the likes because there were none around. We kids used to be left on our own in the daytime and we just go around in groups doing nothing. Those time there were no phobia on rapist or child molester.
But, there was this boy who had a brilliant idea. He suggested we go around collecting bottle caps, those aluminium type, like the ones on beer bottle now.
So, we went to the river banks and all over doing our collection. We had no container to put all the caps and my dress ended up as a bowl to carry our priceless collections.
We collected for about a week and had like 5 rice bags of bottle caps, then we all went to the karung guni shop. The karung guni apek looked at it and said, "ah, ini tak tak guna punya balang, tak boleh juan lor."
See how silly we were, first thing we should check for the value of the caps. We were really disppointed because I had already planned to treat myself a big air batu kacang with the sale money.
You see, I was willing to wade in the dirty and muddy river with mouse carcass and the lot to get the caps. I smelled terrible at the end of the day and my legs was bloated with pekung buta, yellow with pus from the river infection. I still have bisul marks on my legs till now and am looking at it while writing this, hahahaha!
Actually, I wanted to write on koubo extract, something happened to me with koubo extract and I detoured. I promise you beautiful readers, I will do that koubo extract next round. Ok kan?
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Dump money
Things are not going pretty well with me lately. The weather is slowing my life down and I am chasing crickets away from my garden as the hot air is covering our atmosphere now.
You may think coming from me, this is weird but I hate the sounds of things coming from my front and back garden. I don't really like the chirping sound of birds too loud or too near the house. I get quite distracted. I don't mind them so much when I'm in one of my light and easy mood but nowadays that sort of mood is hard to come by.
Here is the gist of the entry for the day.
A gangster group or some crazy, rich, dying person threw some lumpsome of money in the dumpster.
The dumpman who who works for the government, collects the money and claims it to be his after the claimable period of 6-months. In Japan, whatever you find on the street and report it to the nearest authority, if not claim, will be yours after six-months.
The money is big to Malaysian standard, a little over a million ringgit.
The sad thing is the dumpster man who found it cannot claim the money even after the 6-month waiting period is over.
Well, you think hard and reason it out. He found it, he reported it and he waited for 6 months but still he cannot claim it.
Why?
You may think coming from me, this is weird but I hate the sounds of things coming from my front and back garden. I don't really like the chirping sound of birds too loud or too near the house. I get quite distracted. I don't mind them so much when I'm in one of my light and easy mood but nowadays that sort of mood is hard to come by.
Here is the gist of the entry for the day.
A gangster group or some crazy, rich, dying person threw some lumpsome of money in the dumpster.
The dumpman who who works for the government, collects the money and claims it to be his after the claimable period of 6-months. In Japan, whatever you find on the street and report it to the nearest authority, if not claim, will be yours after six-months.
The money is big to Malaysian standard, a little over a million ringgit.
The sad thing is the dumpster man who found it cannot claim the money even after the 6-month waiting period is over.
Well, you think hard and reason it out. He found it, he reported it and he waited for 6 months but still he cannot claim it.
Why?
Thursday, June 21, 2007
War season
It's the time again in Japan and especially in Okinawa. The TV is broadcasting it almost daily, the schools are having invited speakers to remind small minds of Okinawa, the survivors are relating their histories over and over and banners are everywhere about it.
It's the war, The Second World War season.
Around this time 62 years ago, 200,000 people died when the Americans and the Japanese Imperial Army made the peaceful soil of Okinawa their battleground, the only state in Japan with the real battleground. Do you know that only Okinawa people suffered the real battle of the war?
If you think Hiroshima and Nagazaki were another battleground, you are wrong. Those two places were bombed with atomic power without actual battleground. Within that 3 months period alone, 1 out of 4 local people died in Okinawa. The rest injured, homeless, tortured or barely surviving in some underground caves.
My haiku friend, Mrs. Higa is 75. She is the last remaining few of the atomic bomb survivors in Hiroshima. She was about 8 years old in Hiroshima when she survived the mushroom cloud. She is the spoke-lady for the group involved in the War Prevention-awareness.
A few days ago, she invited me to attend this group and hear her speech there. I went and found myself not belonging to the younger group nor the older group.
The older people were mostly survivors of war, most of them experienced in Okinawa whereas the younger people are those backing the War-awareness movement.
Everyone has their say as we took our turns talking. The older people have lots to say recounting their sad and fading war experience. The younger few would talk of their plans in future of convincing projects. As I hear their stories, there were something odd that I need to tell them.
Their project on Peace Movement is mostly on getting the young generation to understand the meaning of war and its prevention. But I know this is very difficult to implement simply because the young people below 30 years old are not interested in politics, let alone try to understand war.
All they know about war is: it is global, it is large-scale, it is between religious fanatics and important of all, it will not happen in Japan!
Go ahead, ask any Japanese high school boys what they know about war and any one of these will be their answers.
Come my turn to speak and I spoke in Japanese unprepared, without notes and without data to back on. I speak from my heart and that was just my pure opinion.
Briefly, I recounted my late grandfather stories on his experience of war in Melacca. (Al-fatihah for him, he died at the ripe age of 90, 40 years after the war ended!) How the Japanese Imperial Army would forcefully take food from the villages, raped the women and killed anybody easily just because they wouldn't do the Japanese bow-greetings.
My grandfather, in his early 30's, were captured and sent in cargo-loads of rails and roads with other POW to Thailand to work on the Death Railway.
He survived the war with half-deaf ear because he was often beaten with the handle of the bayonet. He was thin to the bone and came home almost crawling.
They were listening to me so deeply even with my lowly, unpolished Japanese talent, mind you I was not prepared to make any speech. If I would have known earlier, for sure, I would have refused that speech.
Then come the point that I want to tell them so much. LIFE.
Before they talked so bombastically about war, about killing, about bomb. They have to instill the value of Life. The love for Life, the love for another human life. If everybody value Life, their own and others...FOR SURE, I said FOR SURE, there will be no war.
They have to teach the children in school today, the value of human life.
Their own and others.
Last year and for the past years, 32,000 Japanese killed themselves and if they can end their own lives so easily, I would think it is not difficult for them to end another human lives.
When they don't put values on human lives, I am very confident that, when and if Japan is involved in another war, they would become active and aggressive easy enough.
Actually, the way I put it across, its like saying "hey, change your style, your tactics is wrong". I think this message was understood well among them and during the Q & A session, one personal question that I dread came up.
"So, were there opposition from your parents when you married a Japanese?" (in Japanese of cours, don't hope for anybody with English language ability).
I told them my mother was too young to know about war that time. They kept her and other women folks well away in the jungle and she hardly had any bad war experiences other than being hungry all the time. Also, most young people in Msia below the age of 50 hardly know about war as it has ended when or after they were borned. So, its only with some older people now that they still feel bitter and hatred for the Japanese.
So, my marriage was approved.
I ended my speech with the reminder that they have to instill the value of Life to the younger generation to avoid war in the future.
Then I looked at Mrs. Higa next to me. She was busy snoring with her head almost under the table. Have to excuse her, what do you expect from a 75 year old granny?
When its time for her own Q & A, she would sometimes stop in a middle of explaination and asked what topic she was on *sigh*
I pat my own shoulder and felt quite proud of myself for being able to make an impromptu speech like that and most important of all, had made them understood my message.
ps: About the video on top, I heard the song on TV commercials as I was typing this entry and felt all nostalgic again of yesteryears. I doubt young readers below the 35 age-limit would know this tune at all.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Driver's license in Japan
Kancil, my first flaming-red love was only 6 mths with me. I had to sell it for cash because it was just a week before transferring to Japan that I made the selling transaction. It depreciated RM6, 000 for 6 mths that meant I used it at value of RM1,000 monthly. Which was not bad considering the running rate for renting Kancil by the day was RM60.00 that time.
I prepared Malaysian International license before going to Japan with validation for a year. We were sent to the northern part of Japan, Iwaki City, Fukushima state.
The test center was far inland into the mountains that took us 2 hours traveling on state highway. Hubby took the day off work to be with me.
Since I was just converting into Japanese license, it wasn't necessary to take the test on public road. I sat for the Highway Code test in English gladly enough. I passed this test and then went for the actual driving on the test-center compound.
Waited for my name to be called...aboduru lazaku bengte, more familiar to the bush-man of Africa!
I have driven on Malaysian roads for 6 months, I was more confident or so I thought.
Don't guess, I think you should know by now from the past phobic encounters of the road kind.
I failed!
Why? You may ask. Why am I so uncontrollable behind the wheels?
Hey, take me for what I am, like my hubby, he was shocked beyond jumping!
Anyway, I failed because I didn't make the proper safety procedure before starting the engine. You know how the Japanese are very particular about the starting and the finishing points.
Hubby made me go to a driving school and learnt the proper driving way according to the Japanese road laws. Hubby always felt the way they teach driving in Malaysia was inadequate. This time I should be taught the proper way, the Japanese way.
At that point of my life, I took anything that comes. I was willing to do anything but just give me that magical paper that said part of the road belonged to me.
I took five lessons and mind you the price I paid was most expensive compared to Wales and Malaysia. The teachings were good, very official and compact.
For the second round of test, I made my way alone this time by the express bus. Left the house very early in the morning after giving instructions to the old lady next door. Relieved that she was willing enough to take care of the children after school.
You would think I should pass this round, wrong!
As I said driving a car is not part of my system. Driving was like a virus that the anti-body system in my DNA rejected all the time.
Well, second round I failed again. This time on the road hump. I was told to stop 1 min on top of a road hump. I stopped and counted 1 min. and continued. Big mistake!
I didn't pull the handbrakes!
I wanted to cry on the spot if not for the tester still with me. I was sobbing all the way home on the express bus. The word dumb, dumb, dumb kept on running in my head like the updates of stock exchange price on my TV screen.
First thing hubby said when he saw my miserable face at home was he wondered how I ever passed the test in Malaysia, the old festered “menanah bisul” repeated. He told me to take the test again and again, even if it I had to go over the 100 landmark!
I went back to the same school and this time a more serious and senior instructor took over. He was the no-nonsense type and he repeated everything he said twice even 3 times just to let me remember strongly. He told me I was the type that needed to be reminded all the time.
The third test came on the last day of summer school vacation. The test-center was crowded with young people taking advantage of the summer vacation from work.
It was a humid, wet and steamy especially when all the winds were trapped in between mountains. I was shaking and nervous. I was having some kind of heavy head preparing to fail again.
I went and this time I was familiar with the roads and places there. All the reminders and all my failures were in my head. Should not do this, should not do that...
This time after the test-run, the instructor didn't tell me my failures. He just left the car and told me to wait at a certain counter.
Waiting for my name to be called seemed like ages, all the people waiting were silent. We just occupied ourselves with our own thoughts or looked blankly at the TV screen on the wall.
I got the result slip and looked at the figures and still couldn't read the result. Again, I was told to wait in line at another counter.
Then, after some anxious hour, they gave me a rectangle, laminated card with my photo and details on it. Just like this here.
Hey, that was my license. I managed this time. I was feverish and wet with sweat. I slept all the way home on the express bus. Reached home, took some fever pills and was knocked flat for two days.
See how easy for me to be hurt. The stress and built-up to the third test was so unmanageable for me.
Now, as I write, I give praise to myself at the strength to keep up, the determination to success and the sheer hard work.
Anyway, that was 10 years ago. Last week I went to renew my Japanese license and was told that I had a clean record on the road for the past 10 years. This time they gave me a blue license to indicate that I am a safe driver. That was another certificate to prove the success of my life.
Counting the sun's repeated cycle, I am 51 today. I have done what I had to do and now its time for me to let go. This time it's my children turn to enter the cycle of Life. I can sit back and count all blessings with peace in my heart.
Happy birthday girl! I love you, I love you.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
J-P-J affair
Towards the day nearing the big test, Cik Kassim gave me 2 runs on the test route. He pointed some of the spots that learners often made mistakes and reminded me to take extra care there.
That historical morning, I went to the test center and took my number. The test went in two sessions. The first session was done within the test compound. I did alright with the S-turn, U-Turn, parallel parking, 3-point parking and the rest went unexpectedly smooth.
The second session was the actual driving on public road. We were given a white Kancil. A young, late 20ish, slim Malay man sat next to me in his JPJ-official uniform. He was already in the car waiting for me to climb in. Before I started the engine, he confirmed my name and identification. I made the proper preparations when starting the engine, mirror, looked front, back and the whole gimmick. He had a report paper attached with a paper board and he kept putting marks without looking at me at all.
That man was stone-cold, his voice made me thought that I was made to flop. I felt like there was an unspoken message warning me, "one wrong move and you're a dead bird, lady!" from him.
I was shaking inside-out, not because of driving but because of the fear for this tester. The test-runs was about 5km if I remember. But, with the no-nonsense icy-cold man sitting beside me, it seemed endless. I was actually looking forward to ending it soon.
So, we came across a T-intersection traffic light. Two signal light side-by-side. Straight road, green light...I saw that. So, I went...afterall it was green.
Then, this booming voice screamed at me, my urinary tract almost letting go...
"Kenapa awak jalan, lampu tu kan merah!"
"Merah? Bukan merah, itu hijau", I said timidly, trying hard to control my bladder.
"Awak berhenti sekarang juga, tukar tempat, awak gagal!"
Whoa...on the spot, I failed, so I said my stand again.
"Saya jalan sebab itu lampu hijau!"
Then loud and fierce, he said, "nampak tak ada dua lampu, yang hijau tu untuk jalan lurus dan yang merah itu berhenti sebelum belok kanan, awak seharusnya tunggu lampu belok kanan itu jadi hijau baru boleh belok...
....AWAK BUTA KE?"
After changing seat, he drove all the way back to the test-center with me trying to keep my eyes dry. I was sobbing inside. I knew I failed, so I just jumped in a cab immediately and head for home.
Let me count now, altogether I had like 40-plus lessons, putting together the time I had with the famous Lesby and Peterson.
I went into mourning period for two months. In the meantime, I tried to avoid taking cab after that memorable incident at the golf range parking lot.
I often used the company driver after that. But company drivers were unrealiable lot. They were forever late and always had valid and official reasons for it.
Moving around in Johor Bahru was becoming very stressful for me. Also, being driven by company driver always put me in dilemma.
During lunch time, he would be waiting for me and forgoing his own lunch. Sometimes I had to buy for him lunch and occasionally, we took lunch together.
Us. Eating together and chatting like some old time pals. On some occasions, talking topics could reach personal level and I hated being too personal. I might not know, the very next day, my personal routine would spread like bush-fire on the factory floor!
Life was so stressful. I must get that paper even if I had to die for it. I went to see Cik Kassim again. This time, I took the pay-till-u-pass course. I told Cik Kassim, I didn't want to go on his car, I insisted on a better car. The driving school gave me a new instructor with newer model car.
This instructor targeted only 5 lessons for me and told me to get ready for the test again.
He wasn't teaching me driving so much because by then I was used to the wheels, after all latest count was like 50 hours of lesson altogether. We just went everywhere on the road with the intention of making me get used to the traffic. He would stop suddenly and instructed me to do the 3-point turn when he saw the road was clear, that was how it went with the 5 lessons.
So, I made my way to the test-center again and this time I made sure I emptied my bladder real good.
Same procedure as before but this time the examiner was a fatherly-figure, 40ish, cheery voice with a "5-month pregnant" tummy.
This time I was given a different test-round and I heaved a sigh of relieve to know that I would't have to go through that same T-intersection that flopped me before.
I went through the very end of the test-route and managed to finish up neatly. Of course, I had to wait this time for the result. Tougue-biting, nerve-wrecking and when I heard my name being called, I went to the counter and collected my report.
20 movements and 4 pangkah. That meant....
I PASSED!
Let me see...3 years in Wales with 35 hours lesson. Almost a year in Malaysia with 15 lessons, altogether 700 Br. pounds plus RM1,500 and 50 solid hours.
What did I feel when it set in that I passed?
I could only afford to smile. I was alone in the crowd. That place was so noisy, loud-speaker calling names and car numbers and I sat down to stare at the marking report for some timeless moment.
I can drive, I can drive now...that was the only noise I heard over and over in my head.
One week later, I went to a car-showroom and that time Kancil was just 3 months in the market. I saw this beautiful, blood-red, small bettle car and paid cash in two parts, that showed how desperate I was to drive. They delivered the car within 2 days.
Initially, I drove around the neighbourhood to get used to the car. Then, came an unexpected hassle from hubby. He didn't allow me to drive because he believed I bribed the tester, one way or another. He didn't believe I could pass the driving at all!
He took the Kancil key and told me to return it back to the shop.
Hubby never trust anything in Malaysia. However hard I convinced him that I earned the passing with strong determination and hardwork, he still never believed me.
The arguments were big and long.
Even though he took the Kancil key away, I still had a spare. I used the spare in the daytime to drive around and made sure by evening the car was in the front porch.
This went on for two weeks until one day he came home early to find the house empty. I brought the children to their swimming class and told him slowly that I had a spare key and had used the car.
Heavily and unwillingly, from that day on, he let me drive.
I did not forget the two person who pushed me so hard to success.
Sally, who had moved to New Zealand by then, gave her a thank-you card telling her of my passing and my appreciations.
Not forgeting Shida. I went to her house and gave her a Japanese tray. She was happily surprised with the gift without occasion to celebrate and happier still when I told her my appreciations for the push from her.
Well, I was with Kancil for only 6 months and again hubby got the order of transfer. This time, back to Japan.
In Japan, I needed a Japanese driving license and hear me out... another rounds of test again.
Continuing my love-hate driving episode in Japan.
That historical morning, I went to the test center and took my number. The test went in two sessions. The first session was done within the test compound. I did alright with the S-turn, U-Turn, parallel parking, 3-point parking and the rest went unexpectedly smooth.
The second session was the actual driving on public road. We were given a white Kancil. A young, late 20ish, slim Malay man sat next to me in his JPJ-official uniform. He was already in the car waiting for me to climb in. Before I started the engine, he confirmed my name and identification. I made the proper preparations when starting the engine, mirror, looked front, back and the whole gimmick. He had a report paper attached with a paper board and he kept putting marks without looking at me at all.
That man was stone-cold, his voice made me thought that I was made to flop. I felt like there was an unspoken message warning me, "one wrong move and you're a dead bird, lady!" from him.
I was shaking inside-out, not because of driving but because of the fear for this tester. The test-runs was about 5km if I remember. But, with the no-nonsense icy-cold man sitting beside me, it seemed endless. I was actually looking forward to ending it soon.
So, we came across a T-intersection traffic light. Two signal light side-by-side. Straight road, green light...I saw that. So, I went...afterall it was green.
Then, this booming voice screamed at me, my urinary tract almost letting go...
"Kenapa awak jalan, lampu tu kan merah!"
"Merah? Bukan merah, itu hijau", I said timidly, trying hard to control my bladder.
"Awak berhenti sekarang juga, tukar tempat, awak gagal!"
Whoa...on the spot, I failed, so I said my stand again.
"Saya jalan sebab itu lampu hijau!"
Then loud and fierce, he said, "nampak tak ada dua lampu, yang hijau tu untuk jalan lurus dan yang merah itu berhenti sebelum belok kanan, awak seharusnya tunggu lampu belok kanan itu jadi hijau baru boleh belok...
....AWAK BUTA KE?"
After changing seat, he drove all the way back to the test-center with me trying to keep my eyes dry. I was sobbing inside. I knew I failed, so I just jumped in a cab immediately and head for home.
Let me count now, altogether I had like 40-plus lessons, putting together the time I had with the famous Lesby and Peterson.
I went into mourning period for two months. In the meantime, I tried to avoid taking cab after that memorable incident at the golf range parking lot.
I often used the company driver after that. But company drivers were unrealiable lot. They were forever late and always had valid and official reasons for it.
Moving around in Johor Bahru was becoming very stressful for me. Also, being driven by company driver always put me in dilemma.
During lunch time, he would be waiting for me and forgoing his own lunch. Sometimes I had to buy for him lunch and occasionally, we took lunch together.
Us. Eating together and chatting like some old time pals. On some occasions, talking topics could reach personal level and I hated being too personal. I might not know, the very next day, my personal routine would spread like bush-fire on the factory floor!
Life was so stressful. I must get that paper even if I had to die for it. I went to see Cik Kassim again. This time, I took the pay-till-u-pass course. I told Cik Kassim, I didn't want to go on his car, I insisted on a better car. The driving school gave me a new instructor with newer model car.
This instructor targeted only 5 lessons for me and told me to get ready for the test again.
He wasn't teaching me driving so much because by then I was used to the wheels, after all latest count was like 50 hours of lesson altogether. We just went everywhere on the road with the intention of making me get used to the traffic. He would stop suddenly and instructed me to do the 3-point turn when he saw the road was clear, that was how it went with the 5 lessons.
So, I made my way to the test-center again and this time I made sure I emptied my bladder real good.
Same procedure as before but this time the examiner was a fatherly-figure, 40ish, cheery voice with a "5-month pregnant" tummy.
This time I was given a different test-round and I heaved a sigh of relieve to know that I would't have to go through that same T-intersection that flopped me before.
I went through the very end of the test-route and managed to finish up neatly. Of course, I had to wait this time for the result. Tougue-biting, nerve-wrecking and when I heard my name being called, I went to the counter and collected my report.
20 movements and 4 pangkah. That meant....
I PASSED!
Let me see...3 years in Wales with 35 hours lesson. Almost a year in Malaysia with 15 lessons, altogether 700 Br. pounds plus RM1,500 and 50 solid hours.
What did I feel when it set in that I passed?
I could only afford to smile. I was alone in the crowd. That place was so noisy, loud-speaker calling names and car numbers and I sat down to stare at the marking report for some timeless moment.
I can drive, I can drive now...that was the only noise I heard over and over in my head.
One week later, I went to a car-showroom and that time Kancil was just 3 months in the market. I saw this beautiful, blood-red, small bettle car and paid cash in two parts, that showed how desperate I was to drive. They delivered the car within 2 days.
Initially, I drove around the neighbourhood to get used to the car. Then, came an unexpected hassle from hubby. He didn't allow me to drive because he believed I bribed the tester, one way or another. He didn't believe I could pass the driving at all!
He took the Kancil key and told me to return it back to the shop.
Hubby never trust anything in Malaysia. However hard I convinced him that I earned the passing with strong determination and hardwork, he still never believed me.
The arguments were big and long.
Even though he took the Kancil key away, I still had a spare. I used the spare in the daytime to drive around and made sure by evening the car was in the front porch.
This went on for two weeks until one day he came home early to find the house empty. I brought the children to their swimming class and told him slowly that I had a spare key and had used the car.
Heavily and unwillingly, from that day on, he let me drive.
I did not forget the two person who pushed me so hard to success.
Sally, who had moved to New Zealand by then, gave her a thank-you card telling her of my passing and my appreciations.
Not forgeting Shida. I went to her house and gave her a Japanese tray. She was happily surprised with the gift without occasion to celebrate and happier still when I told her my appreciations for the push from her.
Well, I was with Kancil for only 6 months and again hubby got the order of transfer. This time, back to Japan.
In Japan, I needed a Japanese driving license and hear me out... another rounds of test again.
Continuing my love-hate driving episode in Japan.
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Driver's license in Malaysia
If my counting head served me well, I must have spent about 700 pounds just on unsuccessfull lessons. After Peterson rejected me, if you can call that as rejection, I made up my mind to give up driving. I figured I wasn't made for driving, maybe I have some kind of driving handicap in my grey cells.
Anyway, hubby was given another transfer and this time to Malaysia.
We were given this 3-floor detached bangalow in front of The Tengku Mahkota Palace at Taman Pelangi, Johor Bahru. Sometimes on weekends, I can see him having polo with his riding buddies or just alone riding his horse.
During that era, taxi fare in Malaysia was RM1.20 for a start and I find it very convenient to just call a cab and hop in. The roads in Johor was too complicated for me to understand and here again came the benefit of cabs for me. But most times, I wouldn't get a cab in time or I would be put on waiting list. That I didn't mind so much but the trouble with taxi drivers in Malaysia was the feeling that I need to make some kind of conversations with them. I always felt like being interviewed. Normal questions would be what would I be doing in that big house because the house-owner was a timber rich-cinaman from Sabah. This question came when I leave my house. Then when I reach the front gate coming home, the question would be like is the rich timber-cinaman my friend sort.
I normally have a favourite taxi cab company to call on and on a few occasions this same driver came to answer my fare-calls. After 4 rides with him, he seemed neighbourly sort of friendly. Whenever I called for a cab rides, he would be there to take my round. He was young, around 30ish, neat long-sleeved shirt, clean-shaved and quite a good-looker.
It happened on a curtain-heavy dark wet day, I went for tea at a Japanese friend's house and as usual he came to take me. He said he would come to pick me after the tea and of course, I was thankful for the kind thought. Saved me the trouble of calling and booking for another cab.
I remember that day, dusk was setting in as I climbed in and I just said to go back home. He knew my house anyway!
Before reaching my house, he detoured at the golf putting range nearby (in front of Tengku's polo ground)and stopped the cab engine. He came out of the cab, opened the back seat door to sit next to me.
He made small talks like "malam nie kita pergi makan sea-food nak?"
I pointed with my finger to my house (I can see my house because it was over a slight slope), and said "situ".
I was sitting straight up, facing front and looking blank, not thinking of anything and he was sitting in the same position, straight and facing front. He took one hand and held it and went on making small talks. I saw other people walking passed the cab and strange thing was, I did not panic. I knew maybe he took to fancy me and want to be closer to me.
I knew I had to remain calm and controlled and I told him, without planning as well, the azan maghrib was so loud because the surau was nearby. He turned his face towards the sound of azan and let go my hand. It was like a finger had snapped in his face and he was awaken immediately. He opened the door, went on his seat, started the engine and drove me home without talking. Reaching my front gate, I gave him the fare but he declined and started the engine to move off. He left without a word and without a backward glance. That was the last time I saw him. Anyway, I remember his cab plate number and sometimes I saw him doing rounds on the roads.
But, I narrated this happening to Shida. Shida was an ex-SIA flight attendant, got married and became full-time wife to a Johor guy. Shida made me realized the more dangerous events that could happened if it was another rough cab driver.
And Shida, like my friend Sally in Wales, insisted I took up driving. In fact, Shida begged me to do it. She made me promised her as well.
I had to do it since I am the amanah-to-promises type of girl.
All I had to do was to call one driving school and the instructor would pick me up to the lesson spot. After getting the price quotations, I settled for a school and after Peterson, came Cik Kassim.
Cik Kassim was 50ish, homely, harmless-dirty jokes type of man. By now, I knew a bit about driving, after all the lessons I had with Peterson. Cik Kassim drove to a parking lot behind the stadium near pasar Larkin. That parking lot became his teaching ground. First thing I said when I touched the wheel was, "Cik Kassim, kereta ini kena buat alignment, semua sengget!"
His just laughed cheekily and said, "takpelah sengget sikit, nanti pandai-pandailah awak ajas (adjust)!"
His car was maybe the 1960 Nissan Datsun model. Longgar everywhere, I hated that car. I hated that car so much and I would have stopped the lesson if not for Cik Kassim tidak apa attitude during lesson. Parallel parking I would knock the corner post and he would say "tak ape", everything tak ape!
I took about 10 lessons and he set me up for the first test in Malaysia with JPJ Johor. I didn't need so much lessons, do I? After all I had 30 lessons done with Peterson. That was what I thought!
Wait for another narative and find out my first test result in Malaysia...jeng, jeng, jenngggg tayangan akan datang.
Anyway, hubby was given another transfer and this time to Malaysia.
We were given this 3-floor detached bangalow in front of The Tengku Mahkota Palace at Taman Pelangi, Johor Bahru. Sometimes on weekends, I can see him having polo with his riding buddies or just alone riding his horse.
During that era, taxi fare in Malaysia was RM1.20 for a start and I find it very convenient to just call a cab and hop in. The roads in Johor was too complicated for me to understand and here again came the benefit of cabs for me. But most times, I wouldn't get a cab in time or I would be put on waiting list. That I didn't mind so much but the trouble with taxi drivers in Malaysia was the feeling that I need to make some kind of conversations with them. I always felt like being interviewed. Normal questions would be what would I be doing in that big house because the house-owner was a timber rich-cinaman from Sabah. This question came when I leave my house. Then when I reach the front gate coming home, the question would be like is the rich timber-cinaman my friend sort.
I normally have a favourite taxi cab company to call on and on a few occasions this same driver came to answer my fare-calls. After 4 rides with him, he seemed neighbourly sort of friendly. Whenever I called for a cab rides, he would be there to take my round. He was young, around 30ish, neat long-sleeved shirt, clean-shaved and quite a good-looker.
It happened on a curtain-heavy dark wet day, I went for tea at a Japanese friend's house and as usual he came to take me. He said he would come to pick me after the tea and of course, I was thankful for the kind thought. Saved me the trouble of calling and booking for another cab.
I remember that day, dusk was setting in as I climbed in and I just said to go back home. He knew my house anyway!
Before reaching my house, he detoured at the golf putting range nearby (in front of Tengku's polo ground)and stopped the cab engine. He came out of the cab, opened the back seat door to sit next to me.
He made small talks like "malam nie kita pergi makan sea-food nak?"
I pointed with my finger to my house (I can see my house because it was over a slight slope), and said "situ".
I was sitting straight up, facing front and looking blank, not thinking of anything and he was sitting in the same position, straight and facing front. He took one hand and held it and went on making small talks. I saw other people walking passed the cab and strange thing was, I did not panic. I knew maybe he took to fancy me and want to be closer to me.
I knew I had to remain calm and controlled and I told him, without planning as well, the azan maghrib was so loud because the surau was nearby. He turned his face towards the sound of azan and let go my hand. It was like a finger had snapped in his face and he was awaken immediately. He opened the door, went on his seat, started the engine and drove me home without talking. Reaching my front gate, I gave him the fare but he declined and started the engine to move off. He left without a word and without a backward glance. That was the last time I saw him. Anyway, I remember his cab plate number and sometimes I saw him doing rounds on the roads.
But, I narrated this happening to Shida. Shida was an ex-SIA flight attendant, got married and became full-time wife to a Johor guy. Shida made me realized the more dangerous events that could happened if it was another rough cab driver.
And Shida, like my friend Sally in Wales, insisted I took up driving. In fact, Shida begged me to do it. She made me promised her as well.
I had to do it since I am the amanah-to-promises type of girl.
All I had to do was to call one driving school and the instructor would pick me up to the lesson spot. After getting the price quotations, I settled for a school and after Peterson, came Cik Kassim.
Cik Kassim was 50ish, homely, harmless-dirty jokes type of man. By now, I knew a bit about driving, after all the lessons I had with Peterson. Cik Kassim drove to a parking lot behind the stadium near pasar Larkin. That parking lot became his teaching ground. First thing I said when I touched the wheel was, "Cik Kassim, kereta ini kena buat alignment, semua sengget!"
His just laughed cheekily and said, "takpelah sengget sikit, nanti pandai-pandailah awak ajas (adjust)!"
His car was maybe the 1960 Nissan Datsun model. Longgar everywhere, I hated that car. I hated that car so much and I would have stopped the lesson if not for Cik Kassim tidak apa attitude during lesson. Parallel parking I would knock the corner post and he would say "tak ape", everything tak ape!
I took about 10 lessons and he set me up for the first test in Malaysia with JPJ Johor. I didn't need so much lessons, do I? After all I had 30 lessons done with Peterson. That was what I thought!
Wait for another narative and find out my first test result in Malaysia...jeng, jeng, jenngggg tayangan akan datang.
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Driver's license
My love-hate relationship with driving started 30 years ago. That was some dinousaur years ago and many bloggers I know here were just speck of flagging tails in their fathers blood.
I took the highway code test in Singapore and I passed the first sitting. But from there on, I had to do the actual driving and those days, I was so pitifully poor. I had to pay for the lessons myself and that time I didn't really have a job that I can survive on. So I stopped and forget all about driving. Finished and I thought I would not drive at all.
Got married, got the children and hubby got transfered to Wales, UK.
I was a good friend to neighbour, Sally Llewellyn and the first year that I knew Sally, she couldn't drive at all. But once in a while, I saw Sally's husband giving Sally some instructions in the car and after sometimes, I heard Sally passed her driving and proudly showed off her driving license to other neighbours.
I envied her so much, I mean she passed without much effort and not even getting the proper teacher to give instructions on driving.
Sally advised me to take up driving and I did. Tomo was about 1 year plus and I had to pay Kathy, another neighbour's daughter to babysit on lesson days.
My first instructor was a lady, very jumpy and edgy. She always repeat the mistakes I made over and over and I was with her for about 4 lessons only. Not because of the boring way she taught but because she was a lesbian.
Of course, nothing like she touched or smoothened my skin. I knew because she was a famous lesbian in that area. People would asked me and the minute I mentioned her name, one brow went slightly up.
I knew too late about her and after a couple of lessons when she didn't turned up, I had to tell her the deal was off.
That was a one-time thing I had with a lesbian and I promised till now, no more lesbians crossed my pious path.
Actually, that incident turned me off from driving for a little while but Sally insisted again that I shouldn't give it up half way through.
Then, I took up with somebody called Peterson. Peterson was tall, heavy top and middle and the typical mid-age english man. I still remember very clearly, like the vivid water from the stonefall in my neighbour's garden, the first thing he did was to teach me how to fill the car at a self-service station. Peterson said all instructors teach how to drive but never a lesson on how to fill the car up. I knew that was just some lame excuse he made up since the car's gas was empty for the day's lesson.
On my first lesson and already I felt cheated and used.
Anyway, I continued with Peterson but I took his lesson as a get-away from home, like a breath away from house duties. Peterson lessons were more like looking the scenery, very distracting and not at all in seriousness.
After 10 lessons, he put me up for the first test.
I failed.
Failed to make the proper movements at the roundabouts. Little, little towns in Wales have roundabouts every couple of miles or so and you can never missed about 5 roundabouts when you go for the weekly shopping less than 3 km away. To the Walshes (I forgot what you called Wales people...Whales or Walshes), roundbouts are like the aorta of their hearts, don't ever make mistakes at roundabouts over there.
I tooked another 10 more lessons and this time again, I was still distracted but improved a little by showing some attention to my driving. This second round, Peterson was more personal. He talked on more personal subjects like his first marriage, his second, he first wife and his second wife, his first house and his second house. This is what I mean by distracted and still showing attention to him.
After the 10 lessons done. Took the test and....FAILED again!
Couldn't do the parallel parking on a steep slope. I parked alright but forgot to pull the handbrake and the car slide gingerly, ever so gracefully, down the steep slope.
Did I give up...oh no. I signed up for another 10 lessons. But trouble was, I still couldn't keep my eyes on the road. I was always looking at some yellow leaves maple tree, squirrels jumping between branches, wild raspberries heavy with red fruits or granny smith apples hanging down some front yards.
At the end of that 10 lessons, I took the third test and you guessed it...I FAILED again!
Peterson didn't want to take me back. He said his teaching time was fully-booked but I knew Peterson gave up on me.
Too much narative in one day here, I will continue my driving lessons in Malaysia and Japan the next entry.
I took the highway code test in Singapore and I passed the first sitting. But from there on, I had to do the actual driving and those days, I was so pitifully poor. I had to pay for the lessons myself and that time I didn't really have a job that I can survive on. So I stopped and forget all about driving. Finished and I thought I would not drive at all.
Got married, got the children and hubby got transfered to Wales, UK.
I was a good friend to neighbour, Sally Llewellyn and the first year that I knew Sally, she couldn't drive at all. But once in a while, I saw Sally's husband giving Sally some instructions in the car and after sometimes, I heard Sally passed her driving and proudly showed off her driving license to other neighbours.
I envied her so much, I mean she passed without much effort and not even getting the proper teacher to give instructions on driving.
Sally advised me to take up driving and I did. Tomo was about 1 year plus and I had to pay Kathy, another neighbour's daughter to babysit on lesson days.
My first instructor was a lady, very jumpy and edgy. She always repeat the mistakes I made over and over and I was with her for about 4 lessons only. Not because of the boring way she taught but because she was a lesbian.
Of course, nothing like she touched or smoothened my skin. I knew because she was a famous lesbian in that area. People would asked me and the minute I mentioned her name, one brow went slightly up.
I knew too late about her and after a couple of lessons when she didn't turned up, I had to tell her the deal was off.
That was a one-time thing I had with a lesbian and I promised till now, no more lesbians crossed my pious path.
Actually, that incident turned me off from driving for a little while but Sally insisted again that I shouldn't give it up half way through.
Then, I took up with somebody called Peterson. Peterson was tall, heavy top and middle and the typical mid-age english man. I still remember very clearly, like the vivid water from the stonefall in my neighbour's garden, the first thing he did was to teach me how to fill the car at a self-service station. Peterson said all instructors teach how to drive but never a lesson on how to fill the car up. I knew that was just some lame excuse he made up since the car's gas was empty for the day's lesson.
On my first lesson and already I felt cheated and used.
Anyway, I continued with Peterson but I took his lesson as a get-away from home, like a breath away from house duties. Peterson lessons were more like looking the scenery, very distracting and not at all in seriousness.
After 10 lessons, he put me up for the first test.
I failed.
Failed to make the proper movements at the roundabouts. Little, little towns in Wales have roundabouts every couple of miles or so and you can never missed about 5 roundabouts when you go for the weekly shopping less than 3 km away. To the Walshes (I forgot what you called Wales people...Whales or Walshes), roundbouts are like the aorta of their hearts, don't ever make mistakes at roundabouts over there.
I tooked another 10 more lessons and this time again, I was still distracted but improved a little by showing some attention to my driving. This second round, Peterson was more personal. He talked on more personal subjects like his first marriage, his second, he first wife and his second wife, his first house and his second house. This is what I mean by distracted and still showing attention to him.
After the 10 lessons done. Took the test and....FAILED again!
Couldn't do the parallel parking on a steep slope. I parked alright but forgot to pull the handbrake and the car slide gingerly, ever so gracefully, down the steep slope.
Did I give up...oh no. I signed up for another 10 lessons. But trouble was, I still couldn't keep my eyes on the road. I was always looking at some yellow leaves maple tree, squirrels jumping between branches, wild raspberries heavy with red fruits or granny smith apples hanging down some front yards.
At the end of that 10 lessons, I took the third test and you guessed it...I FAILED again!
Peterson didn't want to take me back. He said his teaching time was fully-booked but I knew Peterson gave up on me.
Too much narative in one day here, I will continue my driving lessons in Malaysia and Japan the next entry.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Black bean bun
Sometimes the entries here bring unexpected laughter to readers without me trying to make it into a humour slot. Truth is, its not my intention to make people laugh on purpose. On top of that I don't think I have a flair to write so effectively that could make people laugh.
I give this dash of humour to the life that is surrounding me. I mean, if I make an effort to peep around the other side, I can see the humour part but sometimes I can't see it and only after the entries are published do I see readers laughing.
The event of this entry happened yesterday at the public bath-house. I went alone yesterday without my usual hang-out friends. Normally when I am on my own, I would usually make light chats with those around me. So, after wrapping my body with a full-length bath-towel, I went in the sauna room.
The temperature as usual at 83c and I saw about 8 ladies sitting around.
Gingerly, I walked and found myself a spot in between two women. On my left a granny about 75 years old and on my right a mother roughly my age-group.
After a while sweating it out, the women around my age told me to better turban my head, that way it would keep my hair intact and to avoid hairs from dropping all over the floors.
Hearing her said this, I just do as advised, turbaned my head and continue thinking empty thoughts. But the granny next to me wasn't very happy with the remarks from the other women and gave a sharp reply to that.
The granny accused the other women of picking on people and making her own rules and to this the other women told the granny that what she said was written as the in-house rules of the bath-house. She continued saying that the rules has to be followed as the bath-house is a public property and everybody else is using the same facility.
They were still arguing over this rule thing and I quietly walked out of the room, trying very much to make myself invisible.
I went out to the open-air pouch, of course the porch is covered with high walls on all sides. I spread myself on the lazy, reclining deck-chair and must have slightly knocked off when I felt someone touched my shoulder.
With my face facing sideway, I opened my eyes only to see a big, belly-button in my face. The belly button moved slightly away and I saw the women who made the remarks earlier in the sauna standing there. There was not a string of clothes on her.
She pulled a picnic chair and sat absolutely naked, crossed leg and started to munch on her bean bun.
I let her munched on the bun and not attempting to make any conversation. She started to talk about the granny who opposed her earlier.
I was sleepy, I need to knock off a bit. If only I can tell her to leave me alone but no, she was chatting away while munching on the bean bun.
Imagine a totally naked women sitting cross-leg in front of you munching bun and chatting something about another women.
I didn't want to look at her nor listen to her chanting...please go away...
Then, halfway through the bun, she put it across my face and told me to finish the other half.
I looked at her, carefully examining the brown teeth that are not straight anymore and looked again at the bun.
Eeeeewwwww...
She uncrossed her leg. She moved just because she was insisting that I should finish up the bun.
How do you tell a grossly-naked women the word NO.
I told her all the reasons for not accepting that bun but she still insisted that I should take it.
In the end, with finality and no-nonsense tone, I told her I hate black-bean bun especially the ones thats half-eaten by a brown, crooked teeth, stalked-naked women sitting open-legged across me.
Finally, she accepted my explanation and answered "ah, so desu ka"
Hopefully, she understood, I said it in english anyway!
I am, honestly, a true-blue coward.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Tomato Jelly
Ni baru balik dari hantarkan DVD ke kedai video Bookbox. Sejak Tsutaya (rival Bookbox-kedai video juga) dibuka di Ryubo sebulan ini, Bookbox menjatuhkan harga pinjaman pada semua movie lama. Movie yang lebih dari 3 tahun. Jadi saya pun pinjamlah segala movie. Selalunya lepas makan malam dan lepas dengar berita harian, saya pasang DVD movie dan kami (otto dan saya) menonton bersama.
Entah kenapa anak-anak saya tak minat tengok movie, lalu-lalu depan TV, jeling pun tidak.
Balik pada kedai video tadi, saya pulangkan video dan saja-saja cuci mata tengok tajuk movie yang baru keluar.
Bila saya masuk, terdengar anak kecil lelaki agak dalam umur 4 tahun di belakang menjerit-jerit pada emaknya yang agak muda.
"Tomato jelly, tomato jelly, tomato jelly!" dia menjerit sambil direbahkan badannya, menguling-guling dengan kuat suara.
Emaknya pula sikit pun tak pedulikan dia. Saya pandang keliling, selain dari mereka berdua, hanya saya saja yang ada situ.
Kalau anak saya dah lama kena lempang kat butt-ock tapi anak orang. Pada saya kalau anak orang, macamana dia guling-guling dan berperangai buruk pun, comel saja. Saya suka perhatikan cara dia menangis dan meng"control" emaknya, bukan yang ini saja, anak sesiapa pun sama.
Tapi yang budak ini jerit-jerit, dia nak tomato jelly, takkan ada tomato jelly dalam kedai video ini?
Emaknya masih tak pedulikan dia, saya rasa emaknya ada penutup telinga. Saja dia baca tajuk-tajuk video dengan anaknya sedang berguling-guling.
Budak tu pula, bila nampak emaknya tak endahkan dia, mungkin dia dah biasa buat "show" begini, bangun dan ambil setiap DVD kartoon lalu dicampak-campakkannya ke arah lorong orang lalu lintas.
Emaknya kata dengan selamba "yamenai to kaeru yo!"
(kalau tak berhenti, kita balik).
Apa lagi budak itu ambil lagi beberapa DVD dan campak kat emaknya pula.
Kali ini tali kesabaran emaknya putus, dia tarik anak itu terus keluar diiringi dengan jeritan anak itu.
Apabila mereka keluar, staf datang mengemaskan DVD yang berserak tercampak sana sini.
Saya baca setiap DVD, semuanya bertajuk...
"Tom to (and) Jerry"
Aha, tomato jelly!
Entah kenapa anak-anak saya tak minat tengok movie, lalu-lalu depan TV, jeling pun tidak.
Balik pada kedai video tadi, saya pulangkan video dan saja-saja cuci mata tengok tajuk movie yang baru keluar.
Bila saya masuk, terdengar anak kecil lelaki agak dalam umur 4 tahun di belakang menjerit-jerit pada emaknya yang agak muda.
"Tomato jelly, tomato jelly, tomato jelly!" dia menjerit sambil direbahkan badannya, menguling-guling dengan kuat suara.
Emaknya pula sikit pun tak pedulikan dia. Saya pandang keliling, selain dari mereka berdua, hanya saya saja yang ada situ.
Kalau anak saya dah lama kena lempang kat butt-ock tapi anak orang. Pada saya kalau anak orang, macamana dia guling-guling dan berperangai buruk pun, comel saja. Saya suka perhatikan cara dia menangis dan meng"control" emaknya, bukan yang ini saja, anak sesiapa pun sama.
Tapi yang budak ini jerit-jerit, dia nak tomato jelly, takkan ada tomato jelly dalam kedai video ini?
Emaknya masih tak pedulikan dia, saya rasa emaknya ada penutup telinga. Saja dia baca tajuk-tajuk video dengan anaknya sedang berguling-guling.
Budak tu pula, bila nampak emaknya tak endahkan dia, mungkin dia dah biasa buat "show" begini, bangun dan ambil setiap DVD kartoon lalu dicampak-campakkannya ke arah lorong orang lalu lintas.
Emaknya kata dengan selamba "yamenai to kaeru yo!"
(kalau tak berhenti, kita balik).
Apa lagi budak itu ambil lagi beberapa DVD dan campak kat emaknya pula.
Kali ini tali kesabaran emaknya putus, dia tarik anak itu terus keluar diiringi dengan jeritan anak itu.
Apabila mereka keluar, staf datang mengemaskan DVD yang berserak tercampak sana sini.
Saya baca setiap DVD, semuanya bertajuk...
"Tom to (and) Jerry"
Aha, tomato jelly!
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Appreciations
The Japanese people have many ways of expressing their gratitude and appreciations. They let known their feelings of thankfulness with ease without letting it sounds like they owe you the world.
Gokuro sama deshita. One version of thank you but the word thank you is not even mentioned. In what situations do you use this phrase.
The postman delivers you letter and it so happen you are near by, you don't keep quiet and just let him go.
You shout..."gokuro sama deshita...." at him and he would nod at you back.
When the meterman comes quietly to check on the meter at the back of the house, he would say something like "excuse me, I am checking the meter" of course in Japanese to nobody. He just say it to let know to anybody around the area.
So, when you hear this being said and see he has done his job, you shout all the way from the house..."gokuro sama deshita" but you don't need him to reply back. The most he might just shout back "hait".
O-tsukare sama deshita, another way of saying thank you.
Normally this version is said between friends.
Like when you've bathed together in a common public bath and you say to your friends who is about to leave..."o-tsukare sama deshita".
Or like when my sister-in-law helps to clean her father's house, I would show my face and just say..."o-tsukare sama deshita".
In this case, I wouldn't say "arigatou", it's not very right.
Then you have that all too familiar phrase "sumimasen deshita".
"sumimasen deshita" is an all-functionable word, use very loosely but actually have little meaning to it.
You want to have some space, you say it.
You want to start a conversation, you say it.
You want to ask for direction, you say it.
You want to tell somebody who steps on your foot shouting inside "you big, blind rejected samurai, let go my foot", you say this with a smiling face.
Last of all, maybe I missed something else, you tell your appreciation, you say it.
Some nice guy open the door for you to pass through, you say it.
You let a woman holding a shrieking baby go through the cash register first and you will get a happy "sumimasen deshita".
Anyway, why am I giving a Japanese lesson on a beautiful morning now?
Because I do not have much to write anymore. There are many things on my mind right now.
And...
I have many people to thank and give appreciations...
like the huge steamer an ultra-active lady sent by post from Tokyo that she brought over from KL and I have yet to use it...
"o-sewa sama deshita".
Like the novel, Cinta Fansuri, a friend from KL sent via another friend that I still can't figure out the plot even after passing bab 6..."o-tsukare sama deshita".
Like the six-metre Beijing silk with soft rose-petal design, from a friend whose brother took the trouble to bring all over Hokaido in North Japan and sent it to me, while I am still trying hard to figure out the suitable style to pattern it..."sumimasen deshita".
To all these friends and from the bottom of my heart...
"honto ni arigatou gozaimashita".
Monday, May 14, 2007
Kadena hand chain
The issue of US military base in Okinawa is extremely sensitive. The barometer of sensitivity is easy to detact in the age group.
Local islanders over the age of 45, feel such great comtempt and hatred for the bases to the extend that they avoid going to places that have similarities with the american cultures.
Yesterday, a beautiful and calm sunday, 15,000 islanders mostly, held a hand-chain protest surrounding one of the biggest bases in Okinawa, Kadena.
As long as it is done in a peaceful manner, not noisy and rough, the police allows it to go on. It is one of the ways the local people exercise their democratic rights to protest over the government.
Back to the Bahasa Melayu...
Semalam ada perkumpulan haiku dan makcik Higa yang berumur 74 tahun tidak hadir sebab dia pergi tunjuk perasaan, buat hand-chain kat Kadena Base.
Makcik Higa nie dah lah tua, pulak tu bongkok. Dia sebenarnya pernah merasakan impak terus, direct impact, bom atom. Sebagai seorang yang pernah berpengalam first-hand, dia dilantik sebagai penolong pengerusi The Atom Bomb Peace Group.
Dia mempelawa saya menolong bantu penuhkan hand-chain ini sebab katanya tahun ini tidak ramai yang datang. Seelok-eloknya seramai 25,000 pasang tangan yang perlu untuk mengelilingi Kadena Base tapi tahun ini hanya 15,000 manusia sahaja yang dianggarkan datang.
Sebenarnya saya lebih utamakan kumpulan haiku dan saya tolak pelawanya. Juga otto ada beri amaran jangan campur kegiatan politik di pulau ini. Saya orang asing di tanah ini, setiap tahun seorang pegawai polis datang ke rumah menginterviu saya dengan berbagai soalan darihal aktiviti yang dilakukan.
Selama ini rekod saya bersih dan belum ada pangkah lagi.
Saya perlu kekalkan kebersihan rekod ini.
Isu base ini sungguh komplex. Tidak ada cara mudah untuk menghalau mereka dari pulau ini. Perang dah habis 50 tahun lebih, kenapa mereka masih ada?
Anak-anak muda bawah umur 30 tahun tidak pedulikan sangat isu politik.
Jika ada, adalah.
Kalau tak ada, pun tak apalah.
Orang tua-tua kata anak-anak muda sekarang tidak ada perasaan patriotik, tak sayangkan negara sebab belum pernah berperang mempertahankan tanah air sendiri dari diambil oleh negara lain.
Walaupun saya bukan orang asal tanah ini tapi saya juga ingin bersihkan pulau ini dari pertaburan base. Kalau niat untuk mempertahankan dan menyelamatkan, buatlah di tanah mereka sendiri yang ada Hawaii atau Guam.
Pulangkanlah semula tanah-tanah rakyat pulau ini jika ingin menetapkan keamanan.
Haruskan orang pulau ini dibebankan dengan rampasan tanah masing-masing hanya untuk menapong kegiatan mereka?
Penduduk Okinawa memang orang-orang yang cintakan kedamaian. Walaupun hati mereka sakit tapi mereka masih bersabar dan menunggu tanah mereka dipulangkan semula.
Entah bila tapi mereka tidak putus asa menunggu dan menunggu...
Untuk rujukan, sila ke http://www.estripes.com/article.asp?section=104&article=45862
Friday, May 11, 2007
Hibiscus
Orang Malaysia kata bunga raya itu lambang bunga negara mereka. Di Okinawa, bunga raya sudah menjadi lambang kebanggaan mereka. Boleh dikatakan di setiap laman rumah ditanam berbagai jenis bunga ini.
Mereka telah menghasilkan lebih kurang 50 jenis kacukan hibrid bunga ini. Hibrid yang sebesar muka manusia, hibrid berlapis-lapis, hibrid berkelopak mawar dan hibrid berwarna hitam.
Proses penggrafan dilakukan secara saintifik dimakmal oleh pakar hortikultur dan dengan ini telah terhasil beberapa hibrid baru.
Penduduk Okinawa juga salah satu hibrid baru, seperti bunga raya ini, proses cantuman telah bermula sejak pemerintahan raja Ryukyu di era 1400.
Bersambung...
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
Mandi
Akak, mandi apa tu sampai 1 jam lebih?
Cara mereka mandi ada tertibnya, kita kenalah ikut cara mereka.
Gosok-gosok, masuk sauna, masuk kolam jakuzi.
Lepas tu, gosok-gosok, masuk sauna lagi, masuk kolam jakuzi lagi.
Lepas tu, gosok-gosok lagi baru habiskan dengan sauna dan kolam jakuzi.
Kalau tak mau 3 round, buat 2 round pun boleh, suka ati lah.
Saya terangkan pada gadis ayu dari KL itu.
Boleh tak pakai tuala dalam kolam?
Sehelai pun tak boleh, itu undang-undang yang sudah tertulis. Kita ikut ajelah.
Tapi kak saya tak biasalah...
Biasalah tu, banyak orang melayu tak biasa. Kalau dah selalu buat, jadi biasalah.
Sikit amaran nak cakap nie...bila sampai sana, jangan tenung mereka.
Suhu bilik sauna 70c dan suhu air jakuzi 45c.
Macam udang masak....
Selepas 2 rounds, gadis ayu itu kata yang dia sangat penat. Ya, itulah penangan bila lemak dalam badan kena masak dan cair. Juga walaupun tidak bersenam, rasa penat semacam. Kepalanya mula ringan dan mabuk, jadi saya suruh dia duduk sebentar untuk menstabilkan pejalanan darah dalam badan.
Saya juga begini waktu pertama kali masuk bilik sauna. Kali ketiga saya pergi sendiri dan waktu mengundurkan kereta masa balik, saya terlanggar dinding bangunan sebab kepala rasa ringan dan berpusing tapi bukan pening.
Berat badannya turun 300gm selepas mandi sauna dan peliknya dia hanya duduk dan merendamkan badan dalam kolam panas itu.
Gadis ayu itu menanyakan kepada saya adakah sauna seperti itu di KL dan saya kata sepatutnya dia yang lebih tahu darihal itu.
Akhirnya saya tanyakan apa rasanya selepas sessi mandi bersama itu.
Katanya pada mula SHOCK dan masih shock lagi...
Memang betul, pada mulanya shock tapi selepas beberapa sessi shock itu hilang sendiri.
Sekarang saya lebih memerhatikan kecantikan asli dan perbezaan pada setiap manusia walaupun pandangan itu dibuat secara lari-lari.
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
Lily on Ie
Lily, warnamu putih
ketelusan, keikhlasan
tidak bercorak, tidak bercampur
memberi harum pada yang menikmati
Kebaikanmu tidak dihargai
tidak terlihat seri berputih
Masih kamu melambai hati
memberi harum merata segi
Jangan hentikan sinar serimu
Contohkan putih biar mengerti
Sentiasa dikenang dalam abadi
harumkan lagi telus kemesraan.
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Pejabat pos
Konnichiwa (good afternoon), dia kata.
Saya balas konnichiwanya dan menambah...Tokyo e onegaishimasu (ke Tokyo, sebenarnya perkataan "onegaishimasu" susah diterjemahkan).
Dia mengambil kotak itu dan membeleknya sebentar, lalu meletakan ke atas piring alat penimbang.
Sambil dia merenung jarum penimbang itu, saya merenung wajahnya.
Orangnya lelaki muda dalam lingkungan 27 tahun. Bulu keningnya hitam dan lebat, matanya seperti dua kacang almond dan dihujung mata itu ternaik sedikit. Lubang hidungnya tertutup dan bibirnya berwarna merah lembut. Mukanya berbentuk 4 segi dengan rangka dagunya yang kukuh.
Di bahunya tergambar tebing air yang menjunam menjatuhkan air di lengan. Bahunya juga berbentuk 4 segi, teguh. Badanya tegap, dan tinggi dalam 1.76 meter.
Saya terpegun memandangnya, dan dalam bersembunyi merenung lagi wajah itu.
Selepas menimbang kotak itu, dia mohon saya menanda tangan di borang alamat. Dia menghulurkan pen dan saya sempat merenung kulit tangannya yang halus, tapak tangan itu berisi dan kemerahan bersama jari-jemari yang elegan.
Saya menolak pemberian pen dari tangannya sebab jika tersentuh jarinya yang elegan itu, mungkin eletrik di tangan ini seperti kabel yang dipasang api menuju bagai kilat ke alat yang meletup.
Saya mencari pen di kaunter sebelah dan meletakkan tanda tangan di kertas itu.
Dengan mata yang tajam menghadap muka ini, dia mengatakan harga setem untuk hantaran itu dengan suara lemak dan lunak.
Saya renung sekali lagi mata almondnya yang berwarna coklat tapi hanya sejenak sahaja sebab saya tahu kelemahan diri ini.
Dia menyerahkan tangannya untuk menyambut wang yang ada di tangan ini tapi sekali lagi saya menolak tangan itu.
Saya meletakkan wang pembayaran ke pinggan yang disediakan khas di kaunter.
Dia mengambil piring itu, mengira dan mengeluarkan resit dari mesin daftar tunai.
Saya memandang wajah itu sepuasnya dan berkata sendiri.
Ya Allah punya kuasa yang ada pada-Mu mencipta seorang yang sehencem ini, seindah ini, setampan ini.
Walau sekuat iman ini, dapat juga dicairkan seketika dengan ketampanannya yang Engkau Jadikan.
Walau nafsu ini seperti salji cecair yang mengalir di musim panas ke sungai Ganges, hilang dibawa ombak dan akhirnya menjadi awan, dapat juga ditawan dengan percikan yang mengalirkan darah merah ke jantung, lalu melayangkan iman ini.
Ya Allah, saya sangat bersalah. Saya akui tidak dapat menghilangkan wajah anak muda itu dari pandangan "mata" ini.
Ampun, ampun, masya-Allah, subhana-Allah.
Saya hanya manusia biasa yang memuji ciptaan Allah.
Saya balas konnichiwanya dan menambah...Tokyo e onegaishimasu (ke Tokyo, sebenarnya perkataan "onegaishimasu" susah diterjemahkan).
Dia mengambil kotak itu dan membeleknya sebentar, lalu meletakan ke atas piring alat penimbang.
Sambil dia merenung jarum penimbang itu, saya merenung wajahnya.
Orangnya lelaki muda dalam lingkungan 27 tahun. Bulu keningnya hitam dan lebat, matanya seperti dua kacang almond dan dihujung mata itu ternaik sedikit. Lubang hidungnya tertutup dan bibirnya berwarna merah lembut. Mukanya berbentuk 4 segi dengan rangka dagunya yang kukuh.
Di bahunya tergambar tebing air yang menjunam menjatuhkan air di lengan. Bahunya juga berbentuk 4 segi, teguh. Badanya tegap, dan tinggi dalam 1.76 meter.
Saya terpegun memandangnya, dan dalam bersembunyi merenung lagi wajah itu.
Selepas menimbang kotak itu, dia mohon saya menanda tangan di borang alamat. Dia menghulurkan pen dan saya sempat merenung kulit tangannya yang halus, tapak tangan itu berisi dan kemerahan bersama jari-jemari yang elegan.
Saya menolak pemberian pen dari tangannya sebab jika tersentuh jarinya yang elegan itu, mungkin eletrik di tangan ini seperti kabel yang dipasang api menuju bagai kilat ke alat yang meletup.
Saya mencari pen di kaunter sebelah dan meletakkan tanda tangan di kertas itu.
Dengan mata yang tajam menghadap muka ini, dia mengatakan harga setem untuk hantaran itu dengan suara lemak dan lunak.
Saya renung sekali lagi mata almondnya yang berwarna coklat tapi hanya sejenak sahaja sebab saya tahu kelemahan diri ini.
Dia menyerahkan tangannya untuk menyambut wang yang ada di tangan ini tapi sekali lagi saya menolak tangan itu.
Saya meletakkan wang pembayaran ke pinggan yang disediakan khas di kaunter.
Dia mengambil piring itu, mengira dan mengeluarkan resit dari mesin daftar tunai.
Saya memandang wajah itu sepuasnya dan berkata sendiri.
Ya Allah punya kuasa yang ada pada-Mu mencipta seorang yang sehencem ini, seindah ini, setampan ini.
Walau sekuat iman ini, dapat juga dicairkan seketika dengan ketampanannya yang Engkau Jadikan.
Walau nafsu ini seperti salji cecair yang mengalir di musim panas ke sungai Ganges, hilang dibawa ombak dan akhirnya menjadi awan, dapat juga ditawan dengan percikan yang mengalirkan darah merah ke jantung, lalu melayangkan iman ini.
Ya Allah, saya sangat bersalah. Saya akui tidak dapat menghilangkan wajah anak muda itu dari pandangan "mata" ini.
Ampun, ampun, masya-Allah, subhana-Allah.
Saya hanya manusia biasa yang memuji ciptaan Allah.
Friday, April 27, 2007
Hana
Ke manakah, ke manakah sungai mengalir
Hito mo nagarete doko doko yukuno,
Ke manakah, ke manakah manusia mengalir
Sona nagare ga tsuku koro ni wa,
Bila aliran ini sampai
Hana toshite, hana toshite
Sebagai bunga, sebagai bunga
sakasete agetai
ingin dikembangkan
Nakinasai, warainasai
Menangislah, ketawalah
Itsu no hika, itsu no hika hana o sakaso yo
Satu hari nanti, satu hari nanti, bunga itu dikembangkan
[Tidak dinyanyikan]
Ke manakah, ke manakah air mata mengalir
Ai mo nagarete doko doko yukuno
Ke manakah, ke manakah kasih mengalir
Sonna nagare noko no uchi ni
Aliran ini kusimpan
Hana toshite, hana toshite
Sebagai bunga, sebagai bunga
mukaete agetai
ingin kujemput ]
Hana wa hana toshite warai mo dekiru
Bunga sebagai bunga boleh juga ketawa
Hito wa hito toshite namida mo nagasu
Manusia sebagai manusia boleh mengalir air mata
Sorega shizen no uta nano sa
Itulah sebenarnya lagu alam
Kokoro no naka ni, kokoro no naka ni
Dalam hati ini, dalam hati ini
Hana o sakasoyo
Kembangkanlah bunga itu
Nakinasai, warainasai
Menangislah, ketawalah
Itsu itsu made mo, itsu itsu made mo
Tiba hari nanti, tiba hari nanti
Hana o tsuka mo yo.
Bunga itu sampai juga.
Nakinasai, warainasai
Menangislah, ketawalah
Itsu no hi ka, itsu no hi ka
Satu hari nanti, satu hari nanti
Hana o sakasoyo
Bunga itu akan berkembang.
Nota: Terjemahan hak cipta jahrera.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Sepasu mawar
berapa lamakah engkau di situ
memerhatikan
badut berbau lalu.
Wahai sepasu mawar
semestinya engkau girang
meninggalkan
tembok busuk di sudut itu.
Wahai sepasu mawar
marilah
berhijrah
memeriahkan taman ikhlas yang merinduimu.
Monday, April 23, 2007
Pantun noghori
lombu toberak moghato-ghato
moghantau lamo kek tompek oghang
adat popateh den tak kan lupo.
Tongah laman kombang konagho
hari potang potik sobakol bungo
walau banyak bahso den dah cubo
bahso noghori jugak den banggo.
Padang Sobang dokek Pokan Gadek
ghumah boderek bobagai tanggo
maknushiyo lomah kuek mombodek
sampai maso happah pon tak do.
Kambing Pak Ganting masok kobun
habih dibaham anak pucuk ubi
maleh boto molayan oghang ghabun
takot bodosho sampai ko mati.
Friday, April 20, 2007
Menghilangkan
Kak lela, saya Amir, ingat lagi tak? Sekarang saya ada kat Washington DC. Kalau kak lela datang sini, saya tunggu kat airport.
Tunggu, tunggu...Amir yang mana? Kepala ini mula masuk proses computation...bila kita berjumpa? adakah dia peserta JICA? Adakah dia kenalan blogging? Adakah dia pelajar yg sudah tamat pengajian di pulau ini dari JPA?
Tak ingat.
Kat Malaysia kan, ada sejenis kad telefon yang murah kadarnya, 20 min cuma 16 sen saja.
Tunggu, tunggu...20 min untuk 16 sen? Kepala ini mula sekali lagi masuk proses computation...murahkah itu? Kalau tukar kadar itu ke nilai yen, berapa agaknya...
Tak ingat lagi.
Kat Malaysia kan sekarang kalau orang bangsa lain kena langgar kereta, orang Melayu tak ambik port...orang itu berdarah separuh mati pun tak de orang tolong...
Tunggu, tunggu...kalau orang cedera itu berdarah separuh mati, mana tahu dia cina atau melayu? Mungkin darah melayu lebih merah dari darah bangsa lain kot?
Kepala ini masuk proses computation...gagal, tak dapat compute.
Nampak gayanya disebabkan tinggal jauh dari masyarakat melayu dan sudah sekian lama tidak berhubung, maka profail dan data juga masuk proses deletion.
Nampak gayanya juga yang tinggal pada diri ini hanya percakapan dan bahasa melayu saja boleh dikekalkan. Itu pun pada orang bijak pandai berbahasa Melayu (ialah orang melayu rasa puas dengan kepandaian berbahasa melayu), cara tulisan ini seperti jijik dibaca, kotor dijadikan ayat dan tidak seharusnya dihormati dan setaraf. Undang-undang yang dijatuhkan...tak layak menulis bahasa Melayu...keluar, keluar, berambus...
Mungkin betul juga anggapan ini...darah melayu sememangnya lebih merah dan lebih asli dari darah bangsa lain.
Tunggu, tunggu...Amir yang mana? Kepala ini mula masuk proses computation...bila kita berjumpa? adakah dia peserta JICA? Adakah dia kenalan blogging? Adakah dia pelajar yg sudah tamat pengajian di pulau ini dari JPA?
Tak ingat.
Kat Malaysia kan, ada sejenis kad telefon yang murah kadarnya, 20 min cuma 16 sen saja.
Tunggu, tunggu...20 min untuk 16 sen? Kepala ini mula sekali lagi masuk proses computation...murahkah itu? Kalau tukar kadar itu ke nilai yen, berapa agaknya...
Tak ingat lagi.
Kat Malaysia kan sekarang kalau orang bangsa lain kena langgar kereta, orang Melayu tak ambik port...orang itu berdarah separuh mati pun tak de orang tolong...
Tunggu, tunggu...kalau orang cedera itu berdarah separuh mati, mana tahu dia cina atau melayu? Mungkin darah melayu lebih merah dari darah bangsa lain kot?
Kepala ini masuk proses computation...gagal, tak dapat compute.
Nampak gayanya disebabkan tinggal jauh dari masyarakat melayu dan sudah sekian lama tidak berhubung, maka profail dan data juga masuk proses deletion.
Nampak gayanya juga yang tinggal pada diri ini hanya percakapan dan bahasa melayu saja boleh dikekalkan. Itu pun pada orang bijak pandai berbahasa Melayu (ialah orang melayu rasa puas dengan kepandaian berbahasa melayu), cara tulisan ini seperti jijik dibaca, kotor dijadikan ayat dan tidak seharusnya dihormati dan setaraf. Undang-undang yang dijatuhkan...tak layak menulis bahasa Melayu...keluar, keluar, berambus...
Mungkin betul juga anggapan ini...darah melayu sememangnya lebih merah dan lebih asli dari darah bangsa lain.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Politik meLayu
ayat 49 surah Al Hujrat yang bermaksud:
Wahai orang-orang yang beriman jauhilah kebanyakkan dari sangkaan supaya kamu tidak menyangka sangkaan yang dilarang. Kerana sesungguhnya sebahagian dari sangkaan itu adalah dosa, dan janganlah kamu mencari-cari kesalahan dan keaiban orang, dan janganlah setengah kamu mengumpat akan setengah yang lain. Sesungguhnya seseorang dari kamu memakan daging saudaranya yang telah mati. Maka sudah tentu kamu jijik kepadanya. Oleh itu patuhilah larangan-larangan yang tersebut dan bertaqwalah kamu kepada Allah, sesungguhnya Allah penerima taubat lagi amat mengasihi.
Saya selalu diingatkan yang dosa memfitnah itu lebih besar daripada
membunuh.
Sebelum itu elok ditelitkan perkataan fitnah.
Menurut Kamus Dewan fitnah ialah tuduhan berbentuk khabar, kisah, dll yg diada-adakan (dibuat-buat) utk memburukkan atau membencanakan seseorang.
Bukan mudah membetulkan sesuatu yang sudah menjadi budaya orang Melayu sendiri. Melayu, mana mungkin dipisahkan dengan sikap politikingnya. Bukan setakat dalam politik negara itu sendiri, malah di pejabat, di sekolah, di universiti, dalam tandas, di kedai kopi, dalam blog dan di mana-mana sekalipun asalkan boleh mengumpat, mengeji dan mengata, adalah orang Melayu di situ.
....apa yang tinggal untuk orang Melayu?
Jawapannya Politik.
Itulah yang ada pada orang Melayu dan itulah yang membuatkan orang Melayu mudah benar gila kuasa. Bila sudah ada kuasa, belum tentu mahu membantu bangsa sendiri. Malah mahu ditenyeh-tenyehkan supaya tidak bangkit lagi.
Kata mengatalah yang menjadi modal orang Melayu kerana orang Melayu hanya tinggal kuasa politiknya. Bab-bab yang lain, orang Melayu sudah lama tewas. Ini hakikatnya. Di mana ada tempat yang melemahkan fikiran, adalah orang Melayu.
Ini catatan yang saya petik dari penulis tempatan terkenal
Nisah Haron
Terima kasih, Nisah Haron.
Wahai orang-orang yang beriman jauhilah kebanyakkan dari sangkaan supaya kamu tidak menyangka sangkaan yang dilarang. Kerana sesungguhnya sebahagian dari sangkaan itu adalah dosa, dan janganlah kamu mencari-cari kesalahan dan keaiban orang, dan janganlah setengah kamu mengumpat akan setengah yang lain. Sesungguhnya seseorang dari kamu memakan daging saudaranya yang telah mati. Maka sudah tentu kamu jijik kepadanya. Oleh itu patuhilah larangan-larangan yang tersebut dan bertaqwalah kamu kepada Allah, sesungguhnya Allah penerima taubat lagi amat mengasihi.
Saya selalu diingatkan yang dosa memfitnah itu lebih besar daripada
membunuh.
Sebelum itu elok ditelitkan perkataan fitnah.
Menurut Kamus Dewan fitnah ialah tuduhan berbentuk khabar, kisah, dll yg diada-adakan (dibuat-buat) utk memburukkan atau membencanakan seseorang.
Bukan mudah membetulkan sesuatu yang sudah menjadi budaya orang Melayu sendiri. Melayu, mana mungkin dipisahkan dengan sikap politikingnya. Bukan setakat dalam politik negara itu sendiri, malah di pejabat, di sekolah, di universiti, dalam tandas, di kedai kopi, dalam blog dan di mana-mana sekalipun asalkan boleh mengumpat, mengeji dan mengata, adalah orang Melayu di situ.
....apa yang tinggal untuk orang Melayu?
Jawapannya Politik.
Itulah yang ada pada orang Melayu dan itulah yang membuatkan orang Melayu mudah benar gila kuasa. Bila sudah ada kuasa, belum tentu mahu membantu bangsa sendiri. Malah mahu ditenyeh-tenyehkan supaya tidak bangkit lagi.
Kata mengatalah yang menjadi modal orang Melayu kerana orang Melayu hanya tinggal kuasa politiknya. Bab-bab yang lain, orang Melayu sudah lama tewas. Ini hakikatnya. Di mana ada tempat yang melemahkan fikiran, adalah orang Melayu.
Ini catatan yang saya petik dari penulis tempatan terkenal
Nisah Haron
Terima kasih, Nisah Haron.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Orang pulau
Kumpulan penyanyi ini, Begin, berasal dari pulau ini. Lagu ini mengisahkan betapa pentingnya kebersihan dan keharmonian alam di pulau ini. Kalau ditelitikan lirik lagunya, sungguh mendalam.
Untuk yang belum pernah memijak tanah pulau ini, saya bukan menyombong dan bercakap besar tapi pulau ini sangat cantik dan bersih. Air lautnya yang jernih sehingga ikan berenang tepi pasir, udara yang tidak tercemar oleh serombong industri, orang pulau yang sentiasa senyum dan ramah, purata jenayah yang sangat rendah,
pemandu dan pengguna jalan raya yang berdisiplin dan makanan halal serta tanaman yang mewah.
Pulau inilah syurga di dunia buat saya. Saya tidak mau ke mana lagi.
Kamilah khalifah dan kami menjalankan tugas berdakwa semampu dan sedaya yang boleh, insya-Allah.
Boku ga umareta kono shima no sora o
Langit di pulau kelahiranku ini
Boku wa dore kurai shite iru n darou
Sebanyak manakah aku tahu
Kagayaku hoshi mo nagareru kumo mo
Kerlipan bintangnya juga aliran awannya
Namae o hikaretemo wakaranai
Kalau disebut nama pun aku tak faham
Demo dare yori dare yori mo shitte iru
Tapi akulah orangnya yang lebih tahu
Kanashii toki mo ureshii toki mo
Masa sedih juga masa gembira
Nando mo miagete ita kono sora o
Berapa kali dinaikkan ke langit ini
Kyoukashou ni kaite aru koto dake ja wakaranai
Apa yg tercatat di buku sekolah saja, tidak dpt memahamkan
Taisetsu na mono ga kitto koko ni aru hazu sa
Tempat ini semestinya ada sesuatu yang bernilai
Sore ga shimanchu nu takara
Itulah harta orang pulau ini
Boku ga umareta kono shima no umi o
Laut di pulau kelahiranku ini
Boku wa dore kurai shitte iru n darou
Sebanyak manakah aku tahu
Yogereteku sango mo hette yuku sakana mo
Batu karang semakin tercemar juga ikan semakin kurang
Doushitara ii noka wakaranai
Apa nak buat pun aku tak tahu
Demo dare yori dare yori mo shitte iru
Tapi akulah orangnya yang lebih tahu
Suna ni mamirete nami ni yurarete
Walau dibalut pasir, dibawa arus ombak
Sukoshi zutsukawatte yuku kono umi o
Sedikit demi sedikit laut ini akan berubah
Terebi de wa utsusenai rajio demo nagasenai
Televisyen tak siarkan, radio pun tak lapurkan
Taisetsu na mono ga kitto koko ni aru hazu sa
Tempat ini semestinya ada sesuatu yang bernilai
Sore ga shimanchu nu takara
Itulah harta orang pulau ini
Boku ga umareta kono shima no uta o
Lagu di pulau kelahiranku ini
Boku wa dore kurai shitte iru n darou
Sebanyak manakah aku tahu
Tubarama mo densaa bushi mo
Nyanyian pulau juga lagu pulau
Kotoba no imi sae wakaranai
Perkataan dan maknanya pun aku tak faham
Demo dare yori dare yori mo shitte iru
Tapi akulah orangnya yang lebih tahu
Iwai no yoru mo matsuri no asa mo
Malam bergembira juga pagi berpesta
Doko kara ga kikoete kuru kono uta o
Dari mana juapun lagu ini akan terdengar
Itsu no hi ka kono shima o hanareteku sono hi made
Sampai masanya untuk berpisah dari pulau ini
Taisetsu na mono motto fukaku shite itai
Fahamkan lebih mendalam sesuatu yang bernilai
Sore ga shimanchu nu takara
Itulah harta orang pulau ini.
nota kaki: terjemahan hak milik jahrera.
Friday, April 06, 2007
Friday, March 30, 2007
Hikobae
Terjemahannya.
moku moku to=> Dengan pelahan
kichi no hikobae=> kichi=pengkalan, hikobae=tunas baru musim spring
kiri otosu=>kerat dan buang
Bila dicantumkan bermaksud.
Dengan pelahan tunas baru di pengkalan dikerat dan buang. (hanya terjemahan-bukan bentuk haiku).
Saya menulis haiku ini minggu lepas dan ianya mendapat tempat pertama. Bukan haiku ini sahaja tapi haiku kedua juga mendapat tempat kedua. Pada bulan ini, saya sebagai orang asing, orang non-Japanese dapat mengalahkan orang Jepun dalam penulisan puisi mereka. Saya tidak sangka ini mungkin terjadi.
Ketua haiku menyuruh saya menyertai dan memasukkan haiku ini ke sayembara "Okinawa lepas peperangan" yang diadakan setiap tahun bulan Ogos untuk menyambut Hari Merdeka Okinawa dari Amerika.
Saya terasa serba-salah apabila ketua haiku mengatakan pada ahli-ahli yang hadir hari itu yang mereka sudah dikalahkan oleh orang asing. Ada diantara mereka yang merasa ini sebagai menghina bakat masing-masing.
Dengan pelahan tunas baru di pengkalan dikerat dan buang.
Haiku ini menunjukkan betapa bencinya saya pada pengkalan Amerika yang berserak merata di Okinawa. Pengkalan ini mengambil tanah dan laut di bahagian terbaik di pulau ini. Penduduk Okinawa sudah lama meminta tanah mereka dipulangkan semula tapi setakat ini hanya sedikit dan sangat memakan masa untuk mereka pulangkan.
Sekarang musim bunga dan banyak tunas baru bermula.
Jika tunas baru ini disekat atau perkembangan di pengkalan dikurangkan sedikit demi sedikit mungkin satu hari nanti penduduk Okinawa akan memperolehi kesemua tanah mereka semula.
Itulah penerangan haiku ini.
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Merpati
Hari ini berjalan dengan 2 dara mendaki bukit. Bayangkan awan berkepul-kepul, langit biru dan bunga kembang pagi berwarna ungu menjalar-jalar di merata padang dan bukit, sungguh damai, sungguh tenteram. SubhanAllah.
Jalan yang kami lalu itu 2 hala dan dari jauh saya lihat lori angkat pasir berjalan tersekat-sekat. Saya tengok dari jauh ada 5 buah kereta di belakang lori itu yang mengikut pelahan-pelahan.
Menuju sedikit lagi ke arah lori itu, baru terlihat puncanya.
Burung merpati melintas jalan!
Tapi burung itu berhenti di depan lori dan termenung. Selepas termenung, ia sambung perjalanan ke garis sebelah. Waktu itu, garis sebelah masih kosong dan dari jauh saya perhatikan sebuah kereta mendekatkannya.
Saya beri isyarat pada pemandu lori untuk berhenti dan berdiri di tengah jalan. Pemandu yang menuju ke arah burung belum nampak merpati lagi dan saya isyarat dari jauh supaya berhenti.
Kedua-dua hala kereta berhenti menunggu merpati melintas jalan. Saya perhatikan lagi sebelah sayapnya cedera dan inilah sebabnya merpati itu berjalan, tidak terbang.
Apabila semua kereta faham isyarat, saya mula mengejar dan menangkap merpati itu.
Ia tidak lari pun, berdiam sahaja. Dengan genggaman yang kuat, saya berjalan ke tepi pagar jalan dan campakkan burung itu ke dalam semak.
Selamat, burung itu tidak di licinkan dek tayar kereta. Alhamdullillah saya ucapkan sendiri. Dahlah minggu ini Cotton, arnab putih di rumah, mati dek gigitan kucing.
Rasanya tak sanggup menyaksikan sekali lagi kemalangan seumpama itu berulang.
Minggu ini ada lagi yang saya petik dari ladang orang, berdosa betul.
Sebenarnya buah yang masak ini jatuh berlambak. Saya dengan tamaknya menggambil yang telah jatuh, picit dan jari ini termasuk dalam buah lembek.
Baunya seperti mulut orang tak gosok gigi seminggu. Siap lagi saya cium beberapa kali jari yang tersentuh buah masak.
Ini buah noni. Saya dah tahu khasiat buat ini sungguh elok untuk berbagai penyakit tapi yang paling best, masyaAllah, untuk peranakan perempuan.
Tapi itu kalau sudah dijadikan jus, yang saya ambil ini masih bulat-bulat buahnya.
Saya ingin minum airnya tapi tak tahu cara persiapan.
Jika ada di antara pembaca terhormat tahu, silalah masukkan cara membuatnya di kotak komen.
Jalan yang kami lalu itu 2 hala dan dari jauh saya lihat lori angkat pasir berjalan tersekat-sekat. Saya tengok dari jauh ada 5 buah kereta di belakang lori itu yang mengikut pelahan-pelahan.
Menuju sedikit lagi ke arah lori itu, baru terlihat puncanya.
Burung merpati melintas jalan!
Tapi burung itu berhenti di depan lori dan termenung. Selepas termenung, ia sambung perjalanan ke garis sebelah. Waktu itu, garis sebelah masih kosong dan dari jauh saya perhatikan sebuah kereta mendekatkannya.
Saya beri isyarat pada pemandu lori untuk berhenti dan berdiri di tengah jalan. Pemandu yang menuju ke arah burung belum nampak merpati lagi dan saya isyarat dari jauh supaya berhenti.
Kedua-dua hala kereta berhenti menunggu merpati melintas jalan. Saya perhatikan lagi sebelah sayapnya cedera dan inilah sebabnya merpati itu berjalan, tidak terbang.
Apabila semua kereta faham isyarat, saya mula mengejar dan menangkap merpati itu.
Ia tidak lari pun, berdiam sahaja. Dengan genggaman yang kuat, saya berjalan ke tepi pagar jalan dan campakkan burung itu ke dalam semak.
Selamat, burung itu tidak di licinkan dek tayar kereta. Alhamdullillah saya ucapkan sendiri. Dahlah minggu ini Cotton, arnab putih di rumah, mati dek gigitan kucing.
Rasanya tak sanggup menyaksikan sekali lagi kemalangan seumpama itu berulang.
Minggu ini ada lagi yang saya petik dari ladang orang, berdosa betul.
Sebenarnya buah yang masak ini jatuh berlambak. Saya dengan tamaknya menggambil yang telah jatuh, picit dan jari ini termasuk dalam buah lembek.
Baunya seperti mulut orang tak gosok gigi seminggu. Siap lagi saya cium beberapa kali jari yang tersentuh buah masak.
Ini buah noni. Saya dah tahu khasiat buat ini sungguh elok untuk berbagai penyakit tapi yang paling best, masyaAllah, untuk peranakan perempuan.
Tapi itu kalau sudah dijadikan jus, yang saya ambil ini masih bulat-bulat buahnya.
Saya ingin minum airnya tapi tak tahu cara persiapan.
Jika ada di antara pembaca terhormat tahu, silalah masukkan cara membuatnya di kotak komen.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Tami-flu
Semalam hari selasa, A (L-12 thn) sakit deman dan selesema, makan ubat tami-flu, beberapa jam kemudian, dia panjat beranda rumahnya dan terjun-mati!
Bulan Februari, B (L-12 thn) sakit deman dan selesema, makan ubat tami-flu, beberapa jam kemudian, dia panjat beranda rumahnya dan terjun-pun mati!
Kesemuanya 15 kes, 10 dapat diselamatkan dan 5 hilang nyawa.
Tami-flu, buatan Roche dari Swiss dan Jepun menggunakan ubat ini sejak tahun 2001 untuk 80% pesakit demam influenza.
Yang pelik kesemua 15 kes ini melibatkan remaja antara 10 hingga 18 tahun.
Baru hari ini Kementerian Kesihatan Jepun mengeluarkan amaran. Sebelum ini banyak orang dah buat aduan, kementerian kata bukan kesan-sampingan ubat tami-flu, mungkin mereka suka-suka terjun (yang ini saya agak aje).
BARU HARI INI KELUAR AMARAN!
Kadang-kadang saya rasa kepala orang Jepun ikut pengedaran ekuinoks, kejap mereng ke selatan, kejap sendeng ke utara.
Bulan Februari, B (L-12 thn) sakit deman dan selesema, makan ubat tami-flu, beberapa jam kemudian, dia panjat beranda rumahnya dan terjun-pun mati!
Kesemuanya 15 kes, 10 dapat diselamatkan dan 5 hilang nyawa.
Tami-flu, buatan Roche dari Swiss dan Jepun menggunakan ubat ini sejak tahun 2001 untuk 80% pesakit demam influenza.
Yang pelik kesemua 15 kes ini melibatkan remaja antara 10 hingga 18 tahun.
Baru hari ini Kementerian Kesihatan Jepun mengeluarkan amaran. Sebelum ini banyak orang dah buat aduan, kementerian kata bukan kesan-sampingan ubat tami-flu, mungkin mereka suka-suka terjun (yang ini saya agak aje).
BARU HARI INI KELUAR AMARAN!
Kadang-kadang saya rasa kepala orang Jepun ikut pengedaran ekuinoks, kejap mereng ke selatan, kejap sendeng ke utara.
Monday, March 19, 2007
Cotton
Ini Tora. Kucing ini lebih kurang dalam 7 tahun dan mengikut ukuran umur manusia mungkin dia dalam 70 tahun. Dah tua dan dah tak larat mengemaskan dirinya. Rupa-rupanya binatang juga seperti manusia. Membersihkan dan mengemaskan diri masa muda sahaja dan masuk umur tua sudah tidak berapa teliti menjaga rupa dan kebersihan.
Tora tak aktif lagi dan selalu melelehkan air liurnya. Makan pun kena letak depan mukanya kalau tidak begitu, dia tak mau makan. Bila tak makan dia lemah macam nak mati anytime.
Ceritanya begini, lepas 2 hari arnab tinggal bermain kesukaan. Tora panjat dahan dan melompat ke beranda tempat arnab berlari-lari bebas itu. Malam kejadian ini terjadi hanya Tomo yang belajar di bilik terdengar jeritan Cotton.
Tomo pekikkan pada Otou-san yang Tora tengah mengigit leher Cotton.
Saya dan otto berlari mendapatkan arnab dan otto baling kayu ke arah Tora. Tora lari dan otto kejar sampai bawah dan lempar selipar Jepun kat Tora.
Kami tengok leher Cotton ada kesan darah dalam 5cm.
Malam itu juga otto ambil kotak dan tutup lubang yang Tora dapat masuk ke beranda itu.
Pagi ini selepas dua hari bersama kami. Hanya dua hari kami dapat memberi kasih sayang dan dengan amannya di bawah langit hujan dan awan gelap, pergilah Cotton bertemu Ilahi.
Inna lillahi wa inna illah raji'un.
Friday, March 16, 2007
Hidung diri
Orang Melayu bertepuk dada bila mengatakan diri sendiri "saya, aku, den, deyan, kita, hamba"
Tapi...
Orang Jepun tunjuk hidung untuk mengatakan diri sendiri "watakushi, watashi, washi, boku, ore, wagaya, uchi"
Pelikkan, kenapa mereka tunjuk hidung untuk melambangkan diri sendiri.
Bila saya balik Singapore 3-4 tahun lepas, saya meminta anak sedara yang berumur 2 tahun memanggil nama saya. Dengan terikut adat Jepun, saya menunjukkan hidung.
Who is this?
Selamba, dia jawab, "nose"!
Tak salah kan?
Belum dapat jawapan soalan itu? Kenapa mereka tunjuk hidung untuk empunya badan?
Tengok huruf kanji di atas itu. Huruf itu bermakna seratus. Lihat kotak empat segi di bahagian bawah. Huruf itu mengambarkan hidung, tektik mengingat huruf kanji.
Kotak empat segi itu menggambarkan hidung dalam perkataan seratus.
Hidung ini seratus tahun. Amin.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Rumah kotak
Di Malaysia banyak orang miskin. Mereka miskin dan ada yang meminta sedekah di merata-rata tempat. Mereka miskin tapi mereka ada rumah, setidak-tidaknya pondok untuk balik dan rehat.
Di Jepun juga banyak orang miskin. Mereka miskin dan tidak ada rumah, mereka tidur dalam kotak di merata-rata tempat. Walau mereka miskin, mereka tidak minta sedekah.
Di Jepun tidak ada peminta sedekah.
Monday, March 12, 2007
Campong
saya: oji chaan not going to Ikeda en today?
otto: no, he is not feeling well, maybe a little kaze.
saya: do you need bentou today?
tomo: not full bentou, just two onigiri okay.
saya: are you using the bike today?
mina: yes have to, otou-san use the Tanto to work today.
saya: are you having lunch at home today?
yumi: no, my friends and I are going bai-kingu at Italian Tomato.
saya: your nodo sounds bad.
tomo: this morning a little okashii, a bit itai.
saya: going to hujan, take the baju in.
mina: let me kemas a bit, your turn to lipat.
Bahasa campong, kepalaku pong campong.
otto: no, he is not feeling well, maybe a little kaze.
saya: do you need bentou today?
tomo: not full bentou, just two onigiri okay.
saya: are you using the bike today?
mina: yes have to, otou-san use the Tanto to work today.
saya: are you having lunch at home today?
yumi: no, my friends and I are going bai-kingu at Italian Tomato.
saya: your nodo sounds bad.
tomo: this morning a little okashii, a bit itai.
saya: going to hujan, take the baju in.
mina: let me kemas a bit, your turn to lipat.
Bahasa campong, kepalaku pong campong.
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Sop lobak merah
Ini bukan entri masakan, ini nak cakap pasal doktor dan sepital.
Nampak tak sop lobak tu, baiklah. Gambarkan situasi yang anda harus masakkan sop ini untuk 200 orang pesakit di sepital. Pesakit ini datang dengan berbagai penyakit, ada lidah tak rasa apa lagi, ada yang tak ada gigi, ada yang kena suap makanan.
Sepital awak panggil seorang nenek Jepun yang berpengalaman masak seumur hidupnya, neneklah katakan. Sepital minta nenek ini ajar doktor masak sop lobak merah ini.
Nenek ini kata kena potong lobak itu 5mm, tak lebih tak kurang. Jadi awak setting mesin potong ukuran 5mm dan masukkan lobak-lobak itu. Mesin potong tak betul, ada lebih 5mm, ada kurang 5mm.
Jadi nenek suruh potong dengan tangan satu persatu, setiap lobak irisan 5mm. Jangan lupa ini nak kasi orang sakit sebanyak 200 orang!
Tengok kembali gambar tu, nampak tak lobak 5mm? Awak garuk kepala.
Lepas tu, nenek suruh awak goreng irisan bawang dengan lobak itu. Kacau, kacau dan kacau supaya rasanya sebati.
Tengok kembali gambar itu, nampak tak bawang? Awak garuk kepala.
Lepas goreng, tutup kwali. Tapi awak buka tutup kwali itu setiap lima minit dan toskan air wap itu masukkan ke dalam kwali semula. Setiap 5 minit kena ulang sampai lobak itu empuk.
Tengok kembali gambar itu, ada tak nampak air wap? Awak garuk kepala.
Semua dah empuk, masukkan dalam blender dan haluskan sampai nampak macam dalam gambar itu.
Hidangkan untuk 200 orang pesakit. Buat quality check dan tanya semua pesakit adakah sop itu sedap. Semua kata sedap.
Kalau entri ini buat awak garuk kepala, saya pun tak tahu apa cara lagi nak sampaikan mesej ini.
Jepun, Jepun...*sigh*
Sunday, March 04, 2007
Terung liar
Dalam pengembaraan meniti di pinggir dan tebing bukit, kami terjumpa terung liar ini menjalar dan membelit dawai pagar. Ini bukan pertama kali saya terlihat terung ini. Setiap kali terpandang, saya menahan nafsu untuk memetiknya. Tapi kali yang terakhir berjalan di situ, saya kata terung itu tanaman burung dan bukan kepunyaan manusia, jadi saya juga ada hak mengambilnya.
Lalu saya petik dengan lahap diperhatikan anak dara rumah ini dengan muka masam memarahkan saya. Sambil mengatakan perbuatan mengambil tanpa izin tanaman orang itu salah satu perbuatan mencuri. Saya tegakkan teori yang itu bukan tanaman orang.
Dalam perjalanan balik, terpandang dan terbayang-bayang, asam pedas terung dengan ikan tuna, bau semerbak menyelubungi ruang tamu rumah. Saya berjalan dengan langkah kecil dan pantas.
Sampai sahaja di rumah dengan tidak membuang masa lagi, saya mula persiapan asam pedas dengan terung merah berseri, tanaman burung itu.
Siap dengan daun kesum dari belakang rumah. Benih daun ini dihadiahkan oleh seorang blogger melayu bernama Hani yang tinggal di Yokohama.
Siap dengan menenggekkan (bahso noghori) beras jasmine lagi, kira nak 100% mencapai cita-rasa kampung.
Otto kata terung itu mungkin beracun sebab belum pernah tengok dan orang Jepun tak pernah makan. Saya kata kalau sudah terung, sememangnya terunglah dan kalau dah terung, rasanya pun terunglah! Apa diragu-ragu lagi!
Dia kata tak perlu hidangkan makanan itu sebab dia nak tengok apa terjadi selepas saya makan nanti.
Dengan rakusnya saya hidang nasi panas dengan asam pedas itu. Gaul-gaul, masuk ke mulut dan terasa seperti
...serbuk ubat batuk.
Punyalah pahit! Kuah asam pedas itu tidak pedas, tidak berbau daun kesum tapi rasa ubat batuk!
Bila saya masukan terung itu bulat-bulat dan kunyah, kulitnya seperti kulit lemon, tebal dan pahit.
hak ptui!
Saya keluarkan semula bahan kunyah itu dan otto ketawa kesukaan!
taburan benih di pinggir lembah,
bengang bukan sebarang bengang,
ini bengang sampai termuntah!
Thursday, March 01, 2007
Lesung air
Hampir setiap rumah di Jepun dimasukkan alat baru ini. Juga bukan di rumah saja tapi hampir setiap tandas awam sudah dipelengkapkan. Tempat duduk alas peha wam panas dan semburan air keluar untuk beristinjak. Suhu air boleh diubah mengikut rasa dan untuk perempuan semburannya ke depan dan bagi lelaki semburannya ke belakang.
Gambar ini contoh yang ada di rumah saya.
Di kedai makan, saya mengisi air dalam gayung plastik masuk ke tandas dan terlihat ada disediakan alat semburan ini. Lalu saya keluar dan buangkan air dalam gayung plastik itu.
Makcik Higa (74 thn) dan Sachiko (67 thn) menanya, (perbualan dalam bahasa Jepun diterjemahkan)
Higa: Kenapa engkau bawa air ke tandas?
Saya: Basuh. Engkau basuh tak?
Sachiko: Tak perlu basuh!
Saya: Tak perlu? Kan air kencing berbau? Berbau dalam seluar.
Sachiko: Berbau dalam seluar tak apa bukan di luar!
Higa: Engkau baru mandi sauna, tak perlu basuh lagi.
Saya: Dah biasa basuh.
Sachiko: Ini mesti budaya Malaysia.
Higa: Saya tak pernah basuh, rumah saya tak ada bidey!
Saya: *sigh*
nota kaki: bidey-alat semburan tandas.
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