Come Sit By Me

I am leaving. One foot is already out the door... and into a new home. I will say a proper Goodbye a little later. But for now...come sit by me here.

Swing My Way

One thing I like about Wordpress is how simple it is for someone who doesn't know much about html codes to change blog header pictures - compared to Blogger (Blogspot). Hence you see I have been playing with it... changing the header pictures as often as I like.

Today it features the verandah teak swing we had at the corner closest to the swimming pool. Used to be my retreat swing - with a good book or this netbook - on rainy afternoon. I was going to get some padding custom-made for it had we stayed in Malaysia a bit longer (or at one point, I thought I was going to stay there indefinitely!) This swing is now sitting and not swinging in our garage in Pokrovsky. Hmmm...

My life had taken a different swing towards a direction I did not believe possible when I bought this swing at Gotic Jalan Ampang. I still do not know what could swing my way, but I have faith I can anytime do the Buble's Sway and won't stray. For now, I just let the Marimba play.

Gua Hantu

Did I tell you that whoever is responsible for translating the title of English movies to Bahasa Malaysia has chosen this for the latest Ron Howard's work 'Angels and Demons': Malaikat dan Jin.

Hwwaaattt?

Yes! That was exactly my reaction. Where on the middle earth did that jin come from? Jin Mata Satu dari Gua Hantu, hai meh? I foresaw something like Malaikat dan Roh Jahat or Malaikat dan Syaitan, even. But jin is a very specific being.

I am not actually remotely questioning the language side of the translation, but rather the simple homework somebody simply did not do. How challenging is it really for a translator to Google for a definition of demon?

Here's what I found on my basic dictionary (WordBook):

Word Links
djinny: (Islam) an invisible spirit mentioned in the Koran and believed by Muslims to inhabit the earth and influence mankind by appearing in the form of humans or animals

Synonym
genie, jinni, jinnee, djinni

Hypernym
disembodied
spirit, spirit

Domain Of Category
Islam, Islamism, Mohammedanism, Muhammadanism, Muslimism

Hyponym
eblis, shaitan, shaytan

I did specify that jin is a very specific being, did I not?

I'm pretty sure Dan Brown did not have any jin or djinn in mind when he wrote Angels and Demons. A translator does not have to read the book, nor watch the movie to be able to tell that much. Am I stating the obvious that the translator did not do his homework? Or was there a member of Illuminati putting a burning satay skewer to his neck ready to stamp him with this word had he not used the word JIN?

IC: Identity Crisis

It is never a short answer to “Where are you from, Enida?” Never. Neither is it a short story. Now, how do you summarize this:

I was born in Kota Kinabalu, Sabah – hence the XXXXXX-12-XXXX in my MyKad. A few years after I was born, my parents were transferred to Taiping, where I started school and finished Form Three (Grade 9). Much to my and KaCher’s resentment, we were sent to Temerloh, Pahang, to complete the two remaining years of our high school. KaCher and I were both born in KK, raised in Taiping and sent to Temerloh. Two years later, together, KaCher and I got a place in the TESL Program at PPP/ITM Shah Alam – and that was where we were asked a lot about our origin.

Am I a Sabahan? Apparently Sabahans do not think so. If your parents were not born and bred in Sabah – no matter how much your blood spilled on the land below the wind and how fluent YOU are in Kadazan-Dusun – you are as outside as an outsider, bah! So, no go. Can’t claim I am a Sabahan, can I?

Am I from Taiping? Well, I am basically not from there. Wasn’t born there, wasn’t from there. I just lived there for 15 years or so. So, not good enough to keep on kami-hang, kami-hang with the Taiping-ites no matter how smooth my kami-hang, kami-hang still is. My MyKad could not be converted to XXXXXX-08-XXXX just because I lived in the metal state for 15 years either.

Do I claim myself Orang Pahang? Muahahaha. Hmmm… no offence to Orang Pahang, but no thanks. I did mention the word resentment that I was sent to Pahang, didn’t I? I kicked, screamed and cried the Sungai Pahang crocodile tears back then for two years, hating my own inability to adjust to its koi-awaok, koi-awaok. But I must admit it is a source of amusement mocking the leweh dialect ever since we left the sleepy town.

I mean, really… where am I from? Which do you think shall be my preference, if I can have a preference?

Off Her Chest

There is something nice about me that is nice for you to know. Hopefully I can get around to fessing it up nicely within the next sentence or two, or within the next paragraph. But when I tell you this nice thing about me, my niceness will probably not seem as nice anymore to you. I am a bit torn here to tell or not to tell. Ahhh well!

I am, by virtue, a very thoughtful person. I think about others - the people I carry in my heart - when I travel. My thoughtfulness will exceed the speed limit or passengers seating capacity especially when I go to souvenir shops. Everything I see will have a name on it: KaCher, LilSis, Mom & Dad, Blaire & Meagan, Cik Nan, Bibik, Cik Rome, Neil, Lish, Chin, Nor, Kanaga, Sia Peng, Anne George, Yanie (not in alphabetical order). Everyone!

And then everywhere I go, every little place I visit… I imagine who would like it. And I’d start looking for postcards to send to the people who would ‘miss’ what I just see. Like that butterfly postcard I sent to Lindt from the Butterfly Park tucked somewhere in Florida I visited in 2003. I knew she would appreciate it the most as I could not think of anyone else who loved butterflies more than I did.

But that’s just one nice story to hide the so many not so nice stories about my nice-but-not-so-nice thoughtfulness. I am thoughtful when I travel. I think about everyone and I buy souvenirs for (almost) everyone. But… I never give the souvenirs away! (Oh no!) I still keep them. (Oh noooo!) And I have no intentions of giving them away now though I have made my confession! (Oh noooooooooooo!)

Maybe I should go hide behind my souvenir chests!

Cinta Beralih Arah

I have changed.

These days I enjoy sipping on coffee more than I have... tea. There's nothing wrong with tea. Don't get me wrong. I am not talking about anything wrong anywhere or somewhere anyway. I am just a changed woman. Like any changes themselves... they are neither good nor bad. They are just inevitable. Tea has served me well.

Tea = Blogspot
Coffee = Wordpress

Come sip on Coffee with me. Shall we?

Just About

What happened recently did not make me strong. I am still angry. I am still sad. I am still resentful. I am still human. And I let me be. At some point when I stop thinking from my own point of view, I am ready to tell Enida to not waste her time trusting. 'He who has, gets.' Nothing just happens. One doesn't just suddenly have something without getting it. And I don't just feel angry, sad and resentful just because I just do or just am. I am reacting.

But I am done reacting just now.

What happened recently did not make me strong. Or stronger. It made me brave. It made me realize that I do have choices and I can choose. And I am courageous to say that I am keeping my options open. I am brave enough to choose to say it now... if you choose me, try not to lose me.

We'll see.

Got A Big Mouthed Woman

Beyond any relativity theory, and for no apparent reason at all, I was looking at my hubby tonight and was reminded of Stevie Smith's poem I first read in 1991, never forgot but never remembered to write about. Until tonight.

Beware the man whose mouth is small;
For he'll give nothing and take all.

I just looked at my hubby again. Uh... he does have a rather small mouth. I shouldn't say I had not been warned, eh? But hey, for all we know, Stevie Smith was probably not saying the opposite. Not saying the obvious!

Well, Enida would say:

Beware the woman whose mouth is big;
For when she gets none, oh she'll dig.

_______________________________________________________

Postlude:
I know you are reminded of that catchy old Santana's song 'Black Magic Woman' now, aren't ya?

Quiet Mom

I posted my last entry while watching my little duckling somersaulting in the pool late yesterday afternoon. Yes, somersaulting in the pool. Not into. But here's another post about her. With this little duckling of mine, the updates of what comes from her mouth would be every ten minutes - beats the BBC 'Breaking News'. And this one, I really have to blog blab about or it would break my heart.

We were walking hand in hand from the pool to our Mumberrr Firrtee-One home, Kitreena and I. And Kitreena was really pleased with how she has now mastered this one tough act in the pool she had been trying to do since Thistle (next post). As we entered the house I nicely commented how she talks a bit too much sometimes.

She just smiled and said, "That's how I use my voice Mom. You sing. I talk."

I went quiet. And my mind went quieter.

Quiet Mind

I almost had it enough with my daughter today! Boy did I ever! If Elizabeth Gilbert's words about quiet mind had not come in time to save me, I would have turned blue from holding my breath. I mean, really! There I go again with my 'I mean really'. Is there something about this tropical wonderland that is extremely corrosive to my patience?

Thing is... I see Elizabeth Gilbert in Kitreena the more I read that woman and the more I read my girl. And they both belong to the other end of the spectrum from yours truly... they both do not have a quiet mind. Kitreena has to be doing something every hour down to the very minute in her waking hours. And when she is not doing something, she has to be saying something. She has an excessive need to uncage her thoughts in words. She has to talk.

Now, I am not saying a 'noisy' mind is no good. Especially for a person Kitreena's age, it is almost perfectly normal. Perfectly called for. It is a sign of an active mind in a child. But for a mother with a quiet mind like mine, words uttered can be a clutter. I am not saying that my mind is always quiet either. I can have thoughts of different thoughts spinning like a Blue Ray disc. But the only noise you hear is the words I write. And you - mind you - have a choice to read or not to read!

But when Kitreena speaks, she turns into a little Pharaoh! I am only thankful I am a little Pharaoh's mother! She can speak all she wants, I just have to say, "Silent! Pharaoh's mom speaks now!" She says everything that crosses her mind. I mean EVERYTHING! Here's an example of her response to my "Kitreena, if you want to go swimming, please go get changed."

"Okay Mom. Uh... but where did you put my swimming gear? Oh I know, it must be in the bag we took to the beach the other day. But maybe Dad has taken the bag downstairs. Dad, did you take my swimming suit out of the bag that we took the beach the other day? Oh yeah! I found it Dad. But Mom, I think I don't need my goggles here. The chlorine is not so bad in our swimming pool compared to the hotel one. But I'm still going to take the goggles and everything in the bag to the pool just in case I need them. And even if I don't need them, they just stay in the bag because that's where they belong. So if I don't put them on this time, I know where to find them when I go swimming next time. Okay Mom? Mom? Mom? Are you listening to me Mom?"

To which I answered... "I wish I didn't have to."

So, you see what I mean by noisy mind now? That paragraph above was exactly what was said by Kitreena without ANY interruption from me or her Dad. And that paragraph above is a true example of what she said within the ten-minute commotion of her wanting to go swimming because she was bored and could not stand doing nothing at home after an early supper! She had to go swimming, she had to be doing something on a rainy afternoon. And she had to make commentary of every movement she made, as though she had a visually-impaired audience watching!

But then again, I am making my noise now, am I not? These words I write.