Chap Goh Mei

Chinese New Year came and went. My tabs this year:

1) One Lion Dance

I love the loud booming of the drums. As a child I would run out in search of any lion dance I heard of from afar. Last night I saw my first lion dance of the season. I found it rather strange that the lion was dancing to and around a car, instead of any shop or building or home. Right in the middle of the KL roads, the car must’ve been owned by some bigshot owner of a hotel or club. The lion tried in vain to squeeze through the narrow spaces between the cars around it. The modern lion has to take on new challenges, including opening and closing car doors, pressing on the horn, and taking ang paus from the windscreen wiper. I found the whole affair rather amusing. The many foreigners also looked on in amazement.

2) Three Yee Sangs

I don’t come from a typically Chinese family, so much so that my ‘reunion’ dinner and any consequent dinners with my extended family did not include any yee sangs at all. In fact, the ones I had privy to were related to work and company affairs. It is only tonight at the Chap Goh Mei (15th and final day of the Chinese New Year) that my nuclear family decided that we ought to (reluctantly or un) sit together and have some semblance of a Chinese New Year dinner after all. But let’s look at the yee sang business.

The Chinese yee sang is a traditional food item to be eaten at the start of the New Year. It consists of a number of food ingredients placed together on a plate at the table centre. This includes pomelo strips, brown crisp crackers, oil, sweet-sour sauce, sesame seeds, raw salmon, vegetables, ginger, garlic and other little unidentifiable bits. Family members are to stand up with chopsticks in hand and mix all the ingredients together, saying Lo Hey, Lo Hey and more traditionally Chinese-oriented families continue to quote a string of Chinese sayings that nobody save themselves understands. The significance of the yee sang is that of long life, thus the higher up you lift the food with your chopsticks, the longer you live. This is the only time of the year where children are given free reign to play with their food.

But if we think about it further, this is a rather strange and acquired custom. Only introduced in Malaysia, no other country in the world practices this supposedly Chinese custom of yee sang (which directly translated, means fresh fish, I think). The mainland Chinese have not ever heard of this dish. Typical Chinese dishes during the Chinese New Year, or Spring Harvest Festival, as it is known there, are meat dumplings boiled and eaten with soya sauce, and Hot Pot (also known as Steam Boat in Malaysia and Singapore).

Reflecting on Chinese customs made me wonder about my own personal identity. How do I truly identify myself as?

In Malaysia, I would say I am Chinese first and only Malaysian second.

But when I travel overseas, the obvious answer to give when asked is I am Malaysian first and Chinese second.

What parts of me are really Chinese in nature? Is there a standardized value system that Chinese ought to, and really do, adopt in general? Are the Chinese in Vancouver, Australia, England, America and Malaysia vastly different from the other? Or is it such that after three generations or so, I have been so surely and steadily absorbed into the Malaysian society such that all value systems and lifestyles taken up by the Chinese are essentially Malaysian in nature?

There are obviously many factors to take into consideration, and neither can be fully explained as either a cause or an effect. The interplay of cultures.

The conclusion I make of myself is this:

1) I am Chinese insofar as my blood and filial ties go.

2) I am Malaysian insofar as my lifestyle preferences.

3) I am Christian insofar as my values, goals and overall outlook of life.

4) I am global insofar as my adoption of new habits, learning new things, absorbing of knowledge and the like.

So, is it sad that I am not part of a Chinese family that usually places much importance on traditional Chinese practices and traditions? Perhaps there is a slow ebbing away of the culture, but the reality is, it has never been ingrained into my system. Sure, I will willingly learn Chinese (which I am still passionate about), visit China (to try and understand my roots) and appreciate its culture (especially the arts, which has an incredible history). But I won’t feel guilty if I don’t know about typical Chinese delicacies like ning gao and tang yuen. I was not brought up that way.

Unfortunate but true, Chap Goh Mei means as much to me as does Thaipusam.

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The Socio-Political Realm

I quite unexpectedly bumped into an old friend of mine in a work-related day seminar the other day. We were two amongst the very small group of Malaysian Postgraduate students at the University of Warwick, and it was quite a surprise to see her, much less to find out her interests were similar to mine. We are thinking of taking part in this competition!

The Friedrich Naumann Foundation invites all young Malaysians to enter a project competition on “Young Socio-Political Entrepreneurs”. We would like to encourage you to create a project on a matter that you think should be placed as top concern in your society. The project proposal should aim to promote the openness of the Malaysian society and should seek to achieve one of the following objectives: liberal democracy, market economy, privatisation, human rights, free society and social responsibility, the rule of law, freedom of information and freedom of expression.

Will be thinking and brainstorming on issues to write about. I shall update on what our conclusion is later. Right now we are thinking of focusing on social responsibility. Much research and work to be done!

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Bounded Freedom?

What is it that motivates people to so wholly believe in something that any slightest insult to the basis of belief provokes extreme reaction? I want to understand.
I am a Christian and those who know me understand the deep conviction I have of God and His love for all. I do truly believe in the fact that He saves, and that He is real.

I therefore emphathise with those whose prophet has been recently ridiculed and put to shame by many. It is not merely an issue of religion, but rather that of scorn and utter contempt made by one party of another. Nobody in their right minds would stay silent in an offense conducted against one they truly love. Paparazzi baring your wife or daughter naked on the newspapers, in compromising positions. Is this the equivalent of how Muslims feel? I don’t know, and I am in no position to judge.

What many papers use as defence: Freedom of speech. Now what exactly is freedom of speech? Or Freedom, for that matter. Are we truly free to do everything and anything we want to as humans? Taking it further, if true, is absolute freedom beneficial to all?

“We have the freedom to do anything we want.” Not True.

We are constrained by laws of nature. Gravity restricts us from floating around in the air. Our bones and joints restrict our arms and legs from moving 360 degrees.

We are constrained by laws of society. We are not free to run naked in the middle of a highway. (You could if you wanted to, but it would cause many accidents and you’d be called in by the police.) We are not free to enter into toilets of the opposite sex in Public Areas.

We are constrained by laws of tolerance. We are not free to beat up someone’s ass just because he is of a different ethnicity, religion or sexual preference.

The truth of the matter is that freedom is granted within a certain jurisdiction. The issue arises when just who is able to decide what sort of and the degree of freedom to be granted.

I therefore believe that freedom is to be propagated but one has to be watchful of what one does. Certain laws, legally transcribed or not, govern the ways in which humanity operates. There is no escaping a reasonable circle of constraint.

Since I postulate that tolerance is a virtue to be practised where possible, I also believe that one ought to be cautious in reacting violently, even when one’s convictions have been severely and ridiculously tested. Being inflamed with anger is one thing; acting upon it in physical hatred is another. Consequences are bound to take place. What is the point of injuring others who have injured you?

This is a tricky situation. Respect for one’s religion, race and culture vs. Freedom of Speech. Despite recent events, I still believe the balance is possible. Very possible.

People just have to take time to understand the others’ motivations and core beliefs.

But perhaps it’s gone past all that. What will we next see unfolding in tomorrow’s news?

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Starry Starry Night

Yet another of my dreams was to travel into outer space. If being an astronomer were out of the question, my dying wish would be to convince NASA to pop me into a capsule and throw me out into space just before I passed away. That way, even if the air pressure from within the tube caused it to implode into the vacuum, I would have seen at least once in my lifetime that great blackness, that great light, that great Space.

The alternative, of course, is to use a telescope.

I’m not sure about experienced astronomers, but an amateur like myself appreciates almost exclusively the character of stars, instead of close examination of planets’ dents and the moon’s many craters.

I have always needed a map to get around on ground. In the same way, the sky terrain is as vast and needs a map to guide one by. When I look into space, I don’t merely see beautiful twinkling patterns in the sky but an alternative geographical map. Specific constellations set in place offer a much more international and global map. One can travel anywhere on our puny Earth and still be very much aware of where one is in reference to the nightsky. The locations of Nebulae, constellations, clusters, stars circling the other, dot the sky ceiling. Not random spotting of burning gasses, but so accurate that it can teach you direction.

Stars are as practically alive as humans! They are the single astronomical being that takes on a life cycle. From a star’s inception to its last gasp of breath it goes through stages that are scarily similar to that of a human. Beginning from the squashing of interstellar gas and dust (formation in the womb), then the cool dark clouds forming around it (continued growth as a foetus), then shine its newfound energy into space (infancy into adulthood), then begins the process of dying through either a red giant or supergiant (middle age), and finally dying into a white dwarf or a black hole (old age and death).

And so depending on the age of a star, you can identify with each as they travel through different stages.I personally am drawn to the black hole that sucks everything within its reach, including light waves. Am I intrigued by death?

So, I know this: Stars are celestial beings almost a life-form (subject to debate), and placed in funny formations together can allow one to find his way around, even if one can get lost (as I very much do) whilst on earth. Meanwhile, we are all mostly in the main sequence or fusion ignition stage of a star’s life cycle! Let’s shine on with our Sun in main sequence!

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If Music be the Food of Love

My family gathered around the instruments and made Music together last night. I’m blessed with a bunch of relatives who appreciate and love music as much as I do. Despite initial incongruent notes and off -rhythm, timing, melodies, keys, chords (you name it), eventually they weaved together and our jamming-cum-worship session was beautiful.

The piano was my first instrument, and it ought to, logically speaking, be my baby and respond immediately under the command of my (deft) fingers. But it isn’t. Only recently have my compositions made more use of the keyboard’s flow.

The acoustic guitar became a favourite, a companion, a buddy, a partner in crime. The mobility of the guitar and the conjured-up images of Janis Joplin and Joan Baez in their activist days helped to fuel my love for the guitar. This is also when I started composing music and songs.

The bass guitar was my instrument of choice way back in the days of our all-girl band. As we performed in the Battle Of the Bands 8 years ago, I attempted to learn it on my own. Recently, however, I’ve learnt to appreciate bass lines in songs and it just digs deep into your core when you listen to an experienced and innovative bassist.

The drums was something I picked up for fun, and have since played properly only a couple of times. But if it’s one thing I can do naturally, it’s percussion. I love any form of a good beat – Lion Dance drums (which is incidentally playing a distance away), Kompangs in Dikir Barat, a good drum solo, or a host of percussion bonggols, tin drums and the like.

It’s always been a dream to yet again be part of a performing band, to do music together with those equally as passionate about it. To work hard at something that I believe can send messages across to people. But I suffer from lack of discipline and have failed to master any of the above jack-trades.

Perhaps one day the dream will come true.

Posted in Music, Personal | 4 Comments

Identical Twins

The relationship between Malaysia and Singapore has been described as that of twins separated at birth, and years after refusing to acknowledge the other’s existence. Anyone in the two neighbouring countries would vaguely recognise the underlying currents of distaste of the other.

Why is this, when so many of us share familial ties with those across the border? Why is this, when we really are made of literally the same blood and bone?

We are as perplexed as any foreign observer. Small issues are blown out of proportion time and again, politicians ever fanning the flame of distrust. Be it over a rock the size of an island, the exchange of liquids, or more recently an issue of a crooked bridge, sparks seem to constantly fly. Despite numerous golf games to cultivate a strong relationship between certain leaders, small talk doesn’t seem to dissipate the growing suspicion one has for the other.

So much for semangat kejiranan, one of the 16 listed Moral Values in my SPM days.

One theory is that the Lion City really does have to watch its own back, as it is surrounded by countries whose majority of the citizens are Muslim. Combine this with past records for militant breeding ground, and the fact that its country really is relatively tiny, one would imagine these are reason enough for it to retract trusting hands from Malaysia and reach out elsewhere for strategic support.

However, as we know it, “the world is flat” and increasingly so. The global hand tides over all and waits for no-one. In order to compete efficiently in the dense woods between the two trees (China & India), there has to be a sort of reformed solidarity amongst regional partners. And yes, this includes partnership between the long-lost twins.

I’ve always found it ridiculous to listen to drone after drone of the same broken record. Petty remarks made by one about the other, and neither really makes sense.

I hope my personal record will not be a repeat of many others’. One cannot continue to shut one’s eye and assume the other’s non-existence, especially not so soon after the recent South East Asian Summit in December last. Ignoring the other can only lead to more harm than good.

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Death: The Great Nothingness?

When I was a kid, my favourite cartoon action figure was not He-man the hero, but Skeletor the evil. After a He-man entertainment show, I ran to be picked up by Skeletor while the other children crowded around He-man. I was fascinated by the gore and gruesome appearance of this seemingly frightening character. What lay beneath his skull? How could one be alive and yet appear dead?

Death has been tackled by many a philosopher and theologian. While some believe it is the ultimate end of life on earth, others believe it is but a passageway to either something greater or worse, depending on each’s conviction. If the former is true, then one ought to do all one can in this singular lifetime to achieve one’s personal goal and ambition. If feasible enough, one might even go beyond one’s expectations and die having reached glorious heights of ambition. Unfortunately, not many receive equal opportunity of education, geographical location, or disposition. Assuming a small percentage succeeds, this leaves the rest to rot in personal disappointment.

In the latter belief, death is not an ending but a beginning. Some believe that what happens next depends on good deeds carried out in a lifetime. The number of good things done determines the next level of destination. It is difficult for me to accept this very relative sort of argument. Anything goes. There is in fact no line between which good and evil can be compared, much less segregated. A response might be that there is no such thing as an absolute good, or an absolute evil. This makes foolish the very notions of honour, purity, righteousness and even the law that we citizens proclaim to uphold daily.

Death, to me, is a passage into the world that we cannot see with our naked eyes today. And stretches onto a realm more eternal than at least the earth mortals occupy. Why strive for justice and equality when nothing makes for its future?

And so, Skeletor, with all its charm, fails to impress me today. Living life on earth in deathly stature, hollow from real Life, isn’t good enough for me. Rather a man of flesh today, a man of spirit tomorrow, than to live carrying the mortal frame of bone with the fear of death riding on your shoulders.

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Scented Oils

I would run screaming out of the room as the pungent smell of Hong Eu (fragrant oil) steamed into my nose. Mama, my maternal grandmother, like many others in her generation, relied almost completely upon these oils to remedy all bodily aches and pains. Traditionally packaged in a transparent bottle with screw-on black cap and white-green label, Hong Eu has been my grandma’s saviour through the years.

In recent years, of course, I’ve taken to its smell rather congenially. One cannot help but associate the two: Hong Eu and my grandma as they are never too far from the other. And loving one means loving the other, unconditionally.

Massaging the oils deep into the layers of her skin, across the contours and folds of aged flesh, I work hard at ensuring the Hong Eu is evenly spread and adequately absorbed. The sense of touch comforts the old lady. The matter between us, smooth and slick, forms a strange bond.

I will never be able to smell Hong Eu again without being reminded of my grandma. And it is the thick, permeating nature of its odour that will fill me with joy at the memory of her equally abundant love that spills over.

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Anterograde Amnesia

Anterograde Amnesia, or short-term memory loss, is a form of amnesia where new events are not transferred to long-term memory. After the onset of the disorder, the sufferer will not be able to remember anything that occurs after his attention is shifted away from one subject for more than a few seconds.Those who suffer from theoretically pure anterograde amnesia will still be able to remember memories laid down before the onset of anterograde amnesia, but will exist in a transient world where anything beyond their immediate attention-span disappears permanently from their consciousness. (Wikipedia)

We have seen examples on this in Memento (a brilliant movie), and sadly enough 50 First Dates (a movie for you to smile at and sing Beach Boys’ “Wouldn’t it be nice” to).

Where else is this syndrome most prominent? I’d say amongst the Malaysian public. Time and again, controversial issues have emerged. A sneak peek is created amongst the GGC (grassroot gossip channel), and the following day bam slam wallakazzam all national newspapers pick up the issue and bare their headlines in thick bold font. Sprawled across these pages are revealed intricate stories of national scandals.

Revelations of corporate loss light up the pages with fiery statement after statement. Highways, national water and car and airplane and electric companies going bust (except miraculously redeemed by their “business partners-in-arms”), Approved Permits carelessly handled, preferential treatment evident, the police squad ridiculously taking law into their own hands, religious controversy rising and flailing, and the honourable polite assurance from the administration that “We will look into the matter”.

How many times have issues blown up, only to be forgotten in the next week or so by the general public? Do Malaysians really have that short a memory, or do they practise selective memory, as most women readily admit to do? Why is there no monitoring body or system? Sure, Commissions are set up to give wise advice to those in control. But are these commissions actually listened to? What is the point of setting up a Commission if their painstakingly prepared reports are going to be chucked under a pile of papers to be rudely ignored in any meeting anyway? (SUHAKAM, to cite an example) Are these so-called social ‘watchdogs’ merely put in place to assure the public that something is being done, in the very least? We must have a ridiculously low standard by which social responsibility is judged, then. And shame on us. Wag, wag, goes the finger.

The mentality of come and go cannot be the way forward for a society so eagerly yearning to be classified a developed country. Can we ever achieve this? Not when blacklisted issues are swept under the carpet, and it takes a whole lot to brave the dust and dirt to reintroduce them all over again. Please, society, document these things and start speaking up for your own sakes!

Have short-term memory loss on your personal grievances with humans because others are equally as forgiveable. But when it comes to forgotten national issues that can be a slow poison to the country as it seeps in, don’t be slippery – make a stand and collectively, perhaps the disease of this amnesia of sorts can be treated successfully.

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The Beautyful Ones are Not Yet Born

Perhaps the need to speak up and speak out stems from a deep desire for justice. So much so that the possibility of muzzling the mouth that speaks does not justify silence. When it comes to this, this pervasive fog of “foul pestilence”, then one can no longer sit on the fence and smile foolishly.

Malaysia has oft been described as a time-bomb. In its seemingly peaceful state, it avoids conflict by pacifying certain parties and playing down national issues. But all are fearfully aware of the actual situation. That all it takes is a single event to spark off something frightful.

And so it was that Moorthy’s wife and family watched in horror, buried a Muslim and without Hindu rites as traditionally precedented. These followed:

  1. Candlelight vigils to be held for a month outside the High Court.
  2. Wife unable to claim benefits and pension.
  3. Malaysian Consultative Council of Buddhism, Christianity, Hinduism and Sikhism (MCCBCHS) state that Article 121(1a) ought to be repealed to ensure that the Syariah Court (Islamic Court) does not hold jurisdiction over non-Islamic matters.
  4. Moorthy’s wife to receive pensions and rightful benefits now.
  5. Pak Lah assures the public that the Constitution and other laws will be looked into such that there exists no such confusion over ambiguous matters concerning conversion.
  6. Candlelight vigils called off by Chief Secretary to the Government Samsuddin Osman.
  7. Memorandum signed by 9 Non-Muslim Cabinet leaders submitted to Pak Lah.
  8. Pak Lah decides that the Article should not be amended despite not having read the memorandum,whilst other parties call for resignations en bloc due to a lack of respect for the prime minister.
  9. As a result of personal request, memorandum is withdrawn and matter is to be resolved in a ‘future’ Cabinet meeting.

Now let’s see here. The heated debate about the modus operandi of the memorandum submission was based on 2 issues: First, that it was unprecedented and that whatever matters need be raised ought to be done in a Cabinet meeting. Second, that it was a blatant insult to the PM and called by certain quarters ‘kurang ajar’.

It is not that the citizens want to repeatedly return to an issue that might cause havoc. Racial politics are not even the issue. What is fundamentally wrong with the structure of the law such that even such vague ambiguities of religious conversion cannot be resolved immediately? Have we indeed reached a constitutional crisis?

As long as the Civil Court and the Syariah Court can move along hand in hand, each governing its respective and supposedly mutually exclusive matters, then all is well and happy. All citizens can go home for their nasi lemak and join their friends for a midnight mamak session, fine. But what happens when one converts out of Islam? What happens when one converts into it and then changes his mind? That the Syariah court continues to rule on converts out of Islam (despite the logical fault in this argument, since a Muslim court ought not to rule upon a non-Muslim) is in itself sufficient for all to wake up and call for change.

As in “The Beautyful Ones are Not Yet Born” by Ayi Kwei Armah, the Man is symbolic of the one all too aware of impending doom surrounding him. In his case it is corruption afoot in the nation, and despite personal cost, he decides to make a stand against the tide. I believe in the concept of conviction. All that follows is merely manifestation of such a stand. This is a question of human rights, and I do not hesitate to call upon justice to prevail.

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