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That’s what hands are forrrrr….

December 24, 2004 by Enida

What you can make with your bare hands, and of course…some tools, recycled materials. Nothing fancy. Color papers, aluminium round sheet from your corn-flour or Milo can, gold Godiva chocolate wraps, time, patience and some good mood. Voila!

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Why Not?

December 19, 2004 by Enida

Is “no” really a negative word? And is “negative” always bad? For almost two years now I have been trying to minimize saying no to Kitty the Kool Kat. Mind ya, try to be cool when she does everything you say jangan to and looks at you with that ‘I-dare-you-to-stop-me’ kinda do-or-dare deadly look. And so, I learned to use Stop! instead – a supposedly more instructive lexis. But as always, some days are diamond, some days are stone. And many are downright rocky. A day like today.

So I got thinking…maybe I should just use no. And I should teach Kitreena to say no and mean it. So she wouldn’t be a woman who doesn’t know how to say no. Like me. Maybe no isn’t such a bad word afterall. Otherwise, why are so many women (and men) complaining that they don’t know how to say the word? Are they the result of parents who believe that nothing can come from hearing the word no but negativity?

So, girls and boys…just go do it! Go say no! And mean it.




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Bitterly Burned by Burning Bitterness

October 7, 2004 by Enida

I tried extremely hard not to be bitter to the bitter bank clerk, yesterday. I did. Though bitten, I was successful. Most of it because I truly COULD understand why he was the way he was. Bitter, that is. Who would not? His everyday tasks involve piles and piles of money. Stacks upon stacks. And none is his. Not even a single baiza. Wouldn’t you be bitter too?

I stood for five minutes being ignored. It was a long time to be waiting, especially when there was no one else in the bank. He saw me, he saw my papers. But he probably found it entertaining, to let a customer wait. ‘Ah well, it’s just another Asian, Filipino maid perhaps. Why would I care?’ And I was there trying to help Bibik make a Demand Draft. It wasn’t even MY mulah.

It wasn’t the issue, nevertheless. The issue was him being bitter. When I finally let out a big sigh, obviously trying to be obvious…he took my paper. Found a fault, and rudely told me to get the copy of Bibik’s labor card from the customer service desk. I gave him the you-don’t-speak-to-me-with-that-tone-okay look, and he looked at me back NOT!

I took my own sweet time lenggang kangkong Mak Limah to the CS desk and lenggang kangkong Mak Limah back to him with Bibik’s labor card photocopy. I wasn’t polite when I slid the paper into the counter box. And I had no single drop of politeness left when I didn’t you’re-welcome his thank-you. What was the point? My silence was better than a screw-you-too.

I could have been more vocal if I wanted to. But I have been here long enough to know the nature of these people. Plus, more often than not, I have seen the pay-off of patience. Was it not I who believed that had I the knowledge that words would fail me, silence would lift me up closer to heaven? Was it not I?

Echeh! Terikut dialogue Prince of Egypt lak sekejap. Mentang baru beli the DVD for Kitreena yesterday. By the way, here’s a picture of a magnolia I took over a year ago from my brother-in-law’s place in Atlanta, GA. He’s a nature lover that one. He’s the kind of guy who surrounds himself with the green-ness and gentleness of nature. When humankind or its unkindness fails him, magnolias and lilacs are just a sniff away. Now I wish kangkong’s blooms are as sweet-smelling (when I should be grateful they don’t smell anywhere close to belacan!)
Hmmm…come to think of it, perhaps nature does play an important part in a person’s bitterness. Think about it, long and hard lah kan. Imagine yourself being surrounded by dry and barren rocky mountains or scorching hot deserts full of emptiness. You turn to your right, and all you see are finger-countable mountain goats trying hard to reach the sky. You turn to your left, there they are…camels, flying horizontally across the sandy ocean. You would burn so bitterly as well. Would you not?

Well, anyway…why don’t you click on the magnolia picture above to see a larger view. I don’t know about you, but to me it looks like a sweet flower. I mean, literally sweet. I could almost taste its soft sugary honey-plated petals. The way icing sugar tastes on the tip of the tongue. Velvety shade of sweetness. Gitu.

Try putting one of those white petals on your tongue, and feel the sweetness wash down your dry throat. It washes your bitterness away, too. Trust me on this one. I know.


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In Cinta

September 11, 2004 by Enida

Incinta, pregnant in Italian…is the state my lil sister’s in right now. Pehh! Fourth month’s month-iversary and the good news! Pretty ‘express-ive’ eh? Congratulations to Lil Sis and her Lo Kong. Soon Kitreena will have a baby cousin! I am so excited to hand down all my ilmu to Lil Sis now. Since I had to brave it all by myself during my time, I guess I learned a little more by trial-and-error. Not to mention my excitement to menurunkan all the bajus Kitreena got as presents. Can’t wait!

Now, wait a minute! How do I know I can turunkan the bajus? What if it is a boy? Alah, a baby is a baby. There’s no harm for a boy to wear pink, is there? Eh, jangan kau…I know some people who would freak out to see their son wearing fuscia pool diaper when the blue is not available (and that fuscia diaper is worn on the INSIDE of the swimming trunk, mind you! This is not superman or superbaby we’re talking about, wearing his underwear as an upperwear, you tupperware – read:mangkuk!)

So what’s the fuss about colors ni? Would your baby boy turn out to be a “trans-v” just because you put a pink diaper once or twice before his second birthday? Or would your baby girl grow up to be the next Ellen deGeneres because you put on blue pair of shoes on her for a few months? Hello, come on lah kan. To put things in Malaysian context, do you really think those Kelantanese men wearing colorful bunga-bunga batik sarong are sissy?

Think again.
(Opocot! I sound like Datin pulak!)

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Ada

September 8, 2004 by Enida

I got caught up counting my sheep blessings and couldn’t go to sleep tonight. So I came downstairs to get a glass of Ribena and to turn the computer off. Well, the computer is still lah so on nyer because I got caught up reading some blogs. (So easy to get caught up and get distracted these days.) Nevertheless, I must admit, I am amazed with the number of really good Malaysian bloggers now. Well-written English, fantastically engaging style, interestingly and sometimes questionably fascinating honesty within.

As a frequent reader of this Datin’s blog, I can’t help but admiring her writing. Flawless, and more importantly (to me) grammatically accurate. Logical? I mean…do I question whether she is a fact or a fake? Nope. I don’t question. She writes her truth, like I do mine. Plus, she doesn’t need anybody’s validation or verification to her stories, does she? In some ways, I can even relate to her life. Not her lifestyle per se, but the life and its luxury.

I am not in the kaya category. Far from! But I am humbled to say that I definitely belong to the berada species. Berada as in…I do ada almost everything I want. No doubt I ada all that I need. In fact, there are so many bembarang in my house that I should tiada-lized very soon. That’s what the patio sale is all about. That’s how blessed I am, to have what I want and to want to have even more when what I have is not wanted anymore. Greedy me!

Datuk, Datin or not…trust me, there are just so many Malaysians now who CAN afford to buy cars and houses in cash term. Irrespective of race, that is. Chinese, Indians and Malays. There’s just so much money going around back home. Before I was exposed to this expats life, I didn’t know that one could ever buy a car cash. Uh, there was just enough for me to put Tom Yam Sayur on the table every night with a tutor’s stipendio in KL. Only after I left Malaysia that I started to see that there were greener pastures elsewhere. I grazed on Dandelions like a cow when I was in Perth. Mooo!

And now the middle-east. The last time I was back in Malaysia, I tried my best to promote these tax-free countries to my ex-colleagues. I wasn’t in the force yet at that time, I wasn’t sure of the exact amount of beans you can collect. But now I know better. And it is a whole load more than I thought! So just imagine, ya saiyidati wa saiyidatina sekelian…how else could you afford a half-million RM property, a 4WD and a Honda Jazz; all paid in cash in no time? Brag or no brag, it is a good place to make money.

But then again, if money is your goal…chances are, you will get it. Oh yes you will. And that’s about all you get. Loads of it. Though I have seen more countries in the world than even many datuks have seen, and I make manifolds more than many ministers do…there’s always the ‘lonely’ factor. It really is lonely at the top. How long can you live surrounded by money? And how far can you stretch making nothing but money? At some point, sedangkan hujan lagi kan berhenti. Ye dak?

Well, I still strongly think that you guys should come and work here in the middle-east. Come be the eagles. Live and play with me. It’d be nice to be surrounded by friends, for a change. Maybe we could go get the Lasic done together-gether. Or perhaps we could laze around at the boat club or at The Chedi. The top guy is our close friend. And we might want to do part-time at that international language center by my place…alah just to feel good about ourselves. To put our degree to a good purpose. To keep our minds sharp. However humble your own career is…bak kata Desiderata.

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Mari Kita Ke Ladang, Hoi!

September 4, 2004 by Enida

Green is the color.
It is cooling off quite a bit now. The hottest part of summer is over. I guess we could call it Omani Autumn, but really…it’s no cooler or less humid than Malaysia at the moment. Green is not the usual color you see around yet. Well, it never is the usual color you see around here. Nevertheless, it is a good time to do some gardening, if you don’t mind getting your hands dirty.

Remember the kangkong that was cilok-ed by Bibik a couple of weeks ago? While most of the leaves and stems have gone back to the soil in the loji tapisan somewhere I don’t even want to care to know, some are now growing in our kebun! Yes sireee, Bibik planted some stems leaveless right on the day I made the Kangkong Belacan. Yeah, leaveless!

With our konon scientific knowledge, my hubby and I thought that the kangkong should have been planted with at least some leaves on. They are the ones who ‘make’ the food for the plant, are they not? That chlorophyll thingy, ya know? So we waited and watched with little faith that there ever will be any more fresh Kangkong Belacan, i.e. not kangkong from Carrefour.

It hasn’t even been two weeks, but the kangkong is growing like a weed. By the way, is kangkong a weed? Dandelion is, but people eat it like cows grazing on grass. Uh, what is it with me and cows these days kan? I was chatting with Cik Nan the other day about cow’s meat (beef lah tu) in the middle east tasting not as ‘meaty’ as beef in Malaysia. I swear. Beef here tastes like wet hardtack. Or if you could imagine chewing on that eggs-holder cardboard material (sarang telur ke haper ke dipanggil that thing).

Back to my kangkong…I mean, Bibik’s kebun kangkong. We caught ourselves berangan the other day. Bibik and I. That maybe by the time we have our patio sale next month, we could open a stall selling some fresh kangkong. Or better yet, have some kangkong-picking sale. Ya know, like those strawberry or apple-picking farms in Canada. Oh yeah, berangan taik kucing me and my maid, we can!

I’d better get ready to go to work. Not that I need the money. (Isyy belagaknya akuu!) But I can’t imagine myself being a kangkong farmer and making one-tenth a month against what I am making in less than an hour. Nothing against any kangkong farmers out there. Tak per lah, call me belacan all you want. But it’s nice to get that Lasik done with only two weeks of il mio stipendio. And that is only 10 hours per week.

Seven hundred twenty trillion, five hundred thirty three thousand, eight hundred eleven hippopotamus…seven hundred twenty trillion, five hundred thirty three thousand, eight hundred twelve hippopo…. Sorry, I am busy counting my blessings again. Chi vediamo, farfalla.

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Chain of Fools

September 3, 2004 by Enida

I instigated, participated and attended a school reunion a couple of years back. We were fifteen, and that was fifteen years ago. I thought it would be pretty neat to see how much we had changed. Physically especially, and socially hopefully. Of course I didn’t expect the guys to be teasing the girls like old times. We were all in our 30’s, for crying out loud. So I saw people whom I had not seen for fifteen years. Some for even twenty! It was nice.

The reunion made me think of Desiderata, especially the part:

  • If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

So I enjoyed the reunion, sharing some old jokes, recalling some old flames, seeing old friends…some looking ‘older’ than others, and some looking exactly like they did fifteen years earlier. And some behaving more childishly than some fifteen months old kids! So I told myself that that was okay too. Some people grow up, and many just grow old.

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Prove Me Wrong

September 2, 2004 by Enida

Ka Cher [ga-jeh] called yesterday, pissed off, pms-ed and all. She was supposed to get her Getz on Wednesday, but she didn’t. Her second car this one. So she’s had it all with salesmen. And Ka Cher is the “hope-for-the-best-but-be-prepared-for-the-worst” kind of person. She’d ask questions. Tonnes of questions. And oh has she ever learned from her experience! But after a while, even the most skeptical Tom Dick and Harry too would like to give some salesmen the benefit of the doubts ya know. The positive thinking stuff.

And it was then that she was proven right. Again. Human err. So do salesmen. Only salesmen err by choice. This Getz salesman promised, I mean promised her that she would get her Getz on Wednesday. Not a day early, and not a day late. But came Wednesday, he turned his cellphone off, and his office phone disconnected. Thursday he picked up his cellphone and said nothing. Late Thursday, Ka Cher went to the showroom to find him with his stinky kambing smile trying to explain the situation.

By then, there was just a huge flock of flies swarming around the cow’s tail…you could not see Mr. Moo no more. Or in short, he already buat taik lah. That was a big mistake. You don’t fool around with my Ka Cher. She takes no taik from no salesman. I mean, come on lah kan…if you don’t have the answer or explanation now, how could you come up with a promise a week ago? This salesman never mentioned anything about Puspakom check, or custom verification at all when Ka Cher ordered her Getz.

Ka Cher asked questions. Tonnes of questions. Like what’s next, and what happens after that, and how long of a wait for this, or that. Did she ever. But then, I guess it all comes down to sales…eh? As long as a salesman gets to sell whatever it is he is selling, khalass! Say all the true right things, get the customers convinced to buy, they buy, and that’s it. The right things remained right at the time they were spoken. Nothing beyond. Prove me wrong. Not all salesmen/women – but most of them – are nothing better than a flock of flies. Shoooh!

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Freedom to Think

August 31, 2004 by Enida

An old friend asked me one time if I was a free-thinker. Being the Enida that I am, I answered his question with a question. Asked him to give his own definition of free-thinker. His idea of a free-thinker by the way was…a person who is free from believing in any Super Power, who has his/her own measure of right and wrong, does not have to conform to real-time societies, yada yada yada.

But I said YES anyway, except that I had my own definition of what a free-thinker should be. “Because I am a free-thinker, I am free to think that the Super Power does exist, no matter what name anybody else calls Him by; that being kind to others is about the only religion that binds me from doing the wrong things; and as much as I would like to belong to the real-time societies…I am free to think that I am raceless.”

My friend then called me an apostate.

Oh don’t worry, feel free to have your Merdeka Day your way.

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Where The Eagles Live and Play

August 30, 2004 by Enida

This is the view of The PDO Club where I take the anak itik berenang-renang ke tepian every other day or so. Well, I have been busy and lazy this past week. Plus I couldn’t find the pool diapers anywhere now. They are not available at Al Fair (fair enough, they don’t seem to have half of the things other places do anyway). Sultan Center didn’t have those fuscia diapers the last time I checked. Carrefour, of all places…pun tak ada!

Bibik offered me her theory the other day, “Kali pabriknya udah bungkus ya buk?” Isyyy pepandai je lah Bibik ni, I hushed her. Kitreena can’t go into the pool without those special diapers. It’s the pool regulation. Not that she would potty in her pants out of excitement anyway. Rules are rules, though they’re meant to be broken.

The island you can see a little far out is Mina Al Fahal. There is an annual swimming competition here in May where the participants swim from the club, around the island and make a loop back. I must admit, it’s the club that gives us the ‘Club Med’ lifestyle in Muscat. Being that it is a private beach club and all, it sure is one of the most beautiful beaches around.

I hope you didn’t mind the heading. Even the eagles have to put food on the table, you know. We don’t fly. And when we do, we don’t normally fly first class either. My life might be a little tat more comfortable than others, and for that I count my blessings. Five thousand billion, and three hundred twenty six hippopotamus…five thousand billion, and three hundred twenty seven hippopotamus…five thousand billion….

I am gone, counting.

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