Of Timun China and Jambu Golok

Once again I am posting a visitor’s comment with my response.

Awang Goneng (AG) left the following comment against Pakcik’s Three (not tea) for Two (click here).

“ Abang Ngah: You do draw the crowd - cats, poets, investors and grateful children with timung china. Reading the comments is as good as reading your blog.

When I went to Kampung Raja to visit my grandad all those years ago when ferries roamed the rivers and tigers the jungle, he (grandpaw) would make his pre-lunch orders. Go to the pohong ttèrè (that's what they call jambu golok in Besut) and pluck the shoots. Go to the kitchen and ask them to cut the timung china. You know of course that the pucuk tèrrè (guava shoots) was to accompany the budu, but I don't think many people nowadays know that the timung china (watermelon) was eaten with rice in Trengganu in them wild days. Perhaps the three timungs arrived on your doorstep just as you were scooping out the steaming rice? So timely. That was better than durian runtuh - until we get the real durian runtuh when Pak Wan Sharif belanja us all.”

Erratum:

“ Sorry, a mistake: in my rush I wrote this, "pucuk tèrrè (guava shoots)". It's actually the shoots of the cashew tree. Jambu Golok. Is that Golok the place in what is now Southern Thailand, or is that the heavy cleaver ?”

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Indeed, one time in the distant past it was a known practice for Terengganu folks to have watermelon with rice. The instance I read AG’s remark my memory flashed back, way back sixty years ago when my late mother’s own habit made me learn to take watermelon with rice. I have nothing to feel ashamed of to admit that, today, I still enjoy timun china with my meals. But, until AG made his remarks, I had all but forgotten that I had been perpetuating something of the past.

When I come to think of it I realise that today one can still see some old folks having timun china with rice at a party where timun china is laid out on the table. One has to watch this to realise the old habit dies hard.

As for AG’s trips to Kampong Raja, Besut, I remember those days when passengers disembarked from their bus and stood beside it while the ferry took them across the river. To us, children, it was a great fun to stand close to the edge to watch the current, imagining the sighting of hungry crocodiles. Yes, Mi, I remember all too well that very special old gentleman, Tokwan Ahmad Hakim. He liked to spin humorous tales about Orang Batak and how I laughed!

Thank you, AG for mentioning all those long forgotten facts.

You questioned where the name jambu golok originated from. Does Golok comes from the place of Southern Thailand, or ‘golok’ the ‘heavy cleaver’? Having cracked my aged brain over this very highly academic subject, I can only arrive at one conclusion that ‘golok’ comes from the heavy cleaver (or chopper – golok)

The jambu golok plant (photographed today)

Flowers and young shoots ( photographed today)

The jambu golok fruit

The difficult part is how to explain my rationale that it is the heavy cleaver, not the Golok of Southern Thailand. Firstly, I must assume that everyone knows the special shape of this fruit. As far as I know, jambu golok is perhaps the only fruit on earth which has its nut grown outside the main body of the fruit, in a kind of appendix. If we rest one of these fruit on its side we can see how it resembles the outline of a cleaver ( a chopper ). The crooked nut ( cashew nut ) which is attached to the broad end of the fruit represents the handle of the cleaver.

Any semblance of a cleaver ??

Try harder!

How else could the old folks of Terengganu design the intricate designs of songket, brass tapak sirih, keropok lekor and so forth without the kind of fertile imagination to make them think of an appropriate and simple name for that jambu fruit? For its unique structure and shape this fruit carries at least four names that I know;

Panggil Jambu golok boleh

Gajus pun boleh

Janggus boleh jugok

Ketereh pun boleh jugok

Kalau pandai orang puteh

Dengan cashew nut kita berlagok

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And finally, it is my turn to wonder, and leave it to my visitors to tell me why the following fruit are so named.

Timun china

Jambu kling

Pisang kelat kling

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Pakcik reminisces (Pt 23b) - Response to Awang Goneng

Pakcik’s previous entry drew a number of comments. The one from Awang Goneng (copied below) touched on points very pertinent to learning of English language.

“Way to go Abang Ngah! I am happy to hear about your planned collaboration with a local university. The problem nowadays is not the quantity of teaching but the quality. Our children have lost their language skills but there are more opportunities for language learning around them. People say there's too much Malay nowadays, but there's too much English too. More and more government departments are writing in English, more people in public are speaking in English and there are many, many television programmes in English. Language learning isn't just vocabulary building or learning the mechanics of grammar. It is more than that. Children should read and love reading. They should listen and love listening. In short, they should love the language they are learning. Literature is kicked by the wayside nowadays and language is pushed into slots. English for Science, English for this English for that. Teaching English as English seems to be a futile exercise. Give them back the love of literature, the sounds of words.”

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While Awang Goneng laments briefly over the teaching and usage of English language I am using this avenue to express my concern on the same subject:

i ) - Would the few hundred teachers imported from America be of help to the likes of the poor rural children who attend classes at Almanar?

ii ) - Assuming our teachers have been suitably trained to teach English as a means to communicate and a tool to search for knowledge, are they at liberty to use their skill to the full or are they being restricted to doggedly and blindly follow what the demigods of education upstairs have outlined?

iii ) - Have the heads of schools been trained to MANAGE an organisation rather than to teach; and if so have they got the leeway to exercise discretion to suit the problems faced in their varied environments?

iv) - Seeing what has been the excessive emphasis on RECORDs of straight ‘A’ at state as well as at school level, should we not, for a change, see highlights of the number and percentage of pupils achieving nothing beyond ‘D’ and ‘E’? Not long ago, the percentage of the group of pupils in this low category at one school reached as high as 30% in one PMR exam. That is very telling isn’t it?

v) – Does the introduction of a subject like EST ( English for Science and Technology) reflect deficiency in our English as a subject?

vi) – Instead of hard copies, blackboard and chalks, must we encourage the use of computing technology to the extent that a teacher can leave the pupils on their own in class?

vii) – Are the text books used for teaching English up to standard? Is it acceptable, for instance, that poems and short stories by Malaysians are translated into English and used as parts of introduction to English literature? Are we making our children learn English literature or learn to be proud of ‘Malaysia boleh’?

I have these questions playing in my head from time to time for so many years when I keep seeing with despair at the attainment of many kampong children coming for help at Almanar.

I will not forget what Awang Goneng once mentioned to Pakcik how the problem of poor children at the bottom classes in schools of a neighbouring country was tackled. The method was so successful that teachers would scramble to teach bottom classes! But we are too proud to be a ‘copycat’. With Malaysia Boleh we should not be surprised when Malaysian engineers are soon required to reinvent the wheel!

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To Awang Goneng.

Mi, I may have been unnecessarily critical. I may have raised some eyebrows among my readers. But in the environments I happen to live in, on top of growing old, I have my frustrations.

Thank you for your comments.

Abang Ngah

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A Map of Trengganu

A Map of Trengganu – watch the spelling

This is a new book by Wan Hulaimi a.k.a. Awang Goneng, a book which should be owned and read by many who enjoy his weekly column in NST every Sunday, and his blog, Kecek-kecek

I admire a person for his ability which is beyond my reach. For instance, I would look with awe at a person who is head and shoulder towering above me. Wan Hulaimi has a way with words. In Terengganuspeak I say ‘ macang maing buwoh guling’ (like playing with marbles). And I would also say he is a ‘loyar burok’ (a lawyer good in spinning). You see, by his own admission, he picked up his Law degree scroll from the office of the Registrar of the famed London School of Economics ( mind you, just a ‘school’, not quite the taraf antara bangsa ‘universiti’ we have many in Malaysia). That happened one night when the door of the Registrar’s office was left open!

I have a close friend who reads Wan Hulaimi’s weekly column. At times this friend moaned over his difficulty trying to make sense what Wan Hulaimi wrote when the latter casually dropped a name or an event. In response I would question my friend with an air of superiority – just for him- what did he think he was when I myself – ha ha - would need nothing less than the whole set of Britannica to check the famous name or event referred to by this columnist.

Awang Goneng dropped by our house one day when he was in Terengganu launching his Growing Up In Trengganu. Before he left he kindly offered to give my Almanar pupils a session on creative writing. My goodness, I nearly told him I needed that for myself more than for those children.

That is a glimpse of the writer I know. He is skilled in an area which I am lacking, hence my awe and admiration. To have a preview of the book before you go rushing to spend your last ringgit and curse Pakcik at the end of it, have a look at the following few pages of that book.

http://www.monsoonbooks.com.sg/downloads/ch1-0854317.pdf

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It’s Weird

Yesterday morning I heard over tv of another quake in Japan, a smaller one. The bottom of the sea must have gone crazy, cracking and sending vibrations through its mass of water. And here things are truly weird. Monsoon ended over a month ago. End of March ought to see calm sea ready for ‘sotong’ season. But the poor fishermen have not been out to sea for a couple of weeks. ‘Aroh derah’ (the current is strong) they told me. Indeed the sea is unusually rough for this time of the year. Look at the picture I took yesterday afternoon. With the grey looking sea, the dark clouds threatening, it was a frightening to stand on the beach by yourself.

What colour is the sea when it is angry with the sky threatening to crash down?

If that is not enough, we have had a few days of continuous rain. A few days ago we had the second flood in two weeks – floods in March? Yesterday, after hearing about flood entering a friend's Makcik and Pakcik paid him anf family a visit. What a sight to see the ground floor of the house located in a small housing area right in the middle of this beautiful city of the global fame Monsoon Cup. Makcik and Pakcik were invited into the house WITH our shoes on! What a sight it was when the beauticully tiled floor we were familiar with was still partly covered in patches of mud. My friends showed me the pictures he took of his house under water.

The road between the houses

In front of the entrance

The sitting room

In the kitchen

The famous city of Kuala Terengganu is a city by the sea and this friend’s house is just over a kilometer away from the famous Batu Buruk ( Rotten Rock ) beach fronting the vast, open South China Sea. And this city cannot find a solution to drain itself dry of a small flood! My friend and wife spent two days cleaning their house of the mud left by the mini flood. And to think this had already happened a few years earlier.

We can only hope and pray that we would not have to go through anything the like of what the Japanese have just gone through.

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P/S; A Note from Awang Goneng.

Just before posting this Pakcik received from Wan Ahmad Hulaimi a.k.a. Awang Goneng in London, an email, specifically personal but with a short note on the latest position of his second book which many have been looking forward to. Here it goes and enjoy the first 27 pages. "My second book on Trengganu, A Map of Trengganu, has come out in Singapore but Malaysians will have to wait until the week of the KL Bookfair end of April. If you'd like to read the first 27 pages, here's where to go: http://www.monsoonbooks.com.sg/downloads/ch1-0854317.pdf"

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With a sigh ( Pt 5 – sec III) – Awang Goneng’s Comments

( C ) Of reading books Vs
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How right Awang Goneng is. He said ‘hold on tight’
‘They probably don't read a book in a week because of tiredness and minyak Cap Kapak (for the aching limbs)’

I know, by comparison with children in other big towns, how much love for reading is among the children in my part of the country. I look at the library of a club in Kuala Lumpur and marvel at the large number of members’ children busy returning and borrowing books, each with more than one copy in hand. I visit the beautiful library of my famed bandaraya and can only draw my famous sigh at the pathetic scene.

The so-called ‘c-cafés’ are found in all the corners of my neighbourhood. They exist even in the midst of low cost housing estates. There is money to be made and the operators have no qualm over the damage their private enterprise does to the young kids. It is a common sight to see children from primary schools spending whatever little pocket money they have at these places, sometimes during school hours. Here I would like to relate a case involving a young brother of a pupil at Almanar.

One day a Form 2 pupil moaned over his failure to persuade his Form 1 younger brother to attend tuition class at Almanar, being so hooked up on computer games with friends. Whatever few cents he receives every morning from his single mother, who worked as a helper in a teacher’s home to supplement the small monthly allowance from Social and Welfare Department, would be spent on computer games. Not enough, the boy worked part-time helping to do the dishes at a food-stall nearby, just to earn a few ringgits, all for the computer games.

And now this rich state is applauded for having started distributing computers to school children. I would have thought the students at the universities ( of ‘taraf anatara bansa’, no doubt) have greater needs for them.
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We have three desk tops at Almanar for children to work on. Of late I have to begin tight control over these computers after realising that, among other things, the computers were on to provide ‘music while you work’ - working indeed! Furthermore, seeing the many prohibited items sold at ‘pasar malam’, I fear other uses/misuses of our computers; these are not unlikely hearing what the children have been saying to Pakcik. They are a clever lot on the novel uses of computers and hand-phone with cameras. These young kids are one up on Pakcik on taking pictures and sharing them through friends’ hand-phones. I only know how to operate a less-than-one-hundred ringgit Nokia, which is complicated enough for me. One day a boy confided that he had just received a picture of xxxxx through his hand phone. The subject was a known pupil of the same school! In fact the pleasure of sharing such pictures is common among his friends, girls no exception. I shuddered at the disclosure.

In short, who wants to read books which takes ages to read and understand when a computer can give all the things one needs without having a stack of reference books to page through.
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Of ‘tiredness and minyak cap lapak’, I think ‘minyak cap rimaa’ is better.

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Sebagai akhir kalam, Pakcik would like to apologise if dear readers, especially teachers, do not share the views expressed above.

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With a sigh ( Pt 5 – sec II) – Awang Goneng’s Comments

In this second section, as promised, I will express my personal opinion on three areas contained in Awang Goneng’s newspaper column and the comment he left for Pakcik.


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(a) Of methodology

It saddens me whenever I find teachers believing that, firstly, ‘methodology’ is the tool without which teaching is meaningless and, secondly, knowing ‘exam format’ is of necessity to score good results. The business of teaching by old methods and the use of old proven reference and text books are looked upon with disdain. For the lack of these necessities I was once belittled. I relish the thought of relating in brief the occasion I was spoken of as an individual unqualified to teach.

Some time ago a secondary school, headed by a new principle with brilliant ideas, decided to introduce an ‘elite group’ in Form Three. Naturally, the group was made up of the top performers of the previous year’s Form 2 exam. The aim was, of course, the typical number game, to achieve greater number of top scorers in the PMR exam at the end of the year.

Together with their parents, about fifteen pupils with potential to satisfy the thirst for excellent results were called for a special briefing by the principle to mark and publicise the launching of this special 'elite' plan. Among the many steps to be taken for this special group – (never mind the bulk of other Form Three pupils numbering not less than three hundred) – many extra classes and special ‘camps’ would be arranged. It so happened that most of these selected pupils had been attending tuition classes at Almanar steadfastly for two years. Many of them were average performers when, two years earlier, they began their Form One at the school.

During the question time that followed, a father of one of the pupils, the top performer in that group, stood up to make an appeal that, whilst the many extra classes planned for the 'elite' group were appereciated, he hoped that his son and his friends would still have time to continue attending tuition classes at Almanar as they had been doing so for so long. In response to that appeal a senior official of the school proudly declared, in the presence of his boss, that Pakcik of Almanar was nothing more than an x-x-x- , not a qualified teacher by profession, and as such, was unlikely to be familiar with the methodology and exam format required to help pupils perform well in the exam, full stop.

The above father was so disgusted with the derogatory remarks uttered that he decided to call on Pakcik at the end of the day to relate the incident, and to say how sorry he was over the stance shown against Pakcik of Almanar. He was more than convinced that his son with 2A,2B and 1C ( the 'C' was in English) would not have progressed that far over the two years without some help from Almanar. (Incidentally the boy continued to get ‘A’ in English, Maths and Science subjects in his PMR through to SPM.)

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(b) Of extra-mural activities

Of the ‘extra-mural activities’ mentioned by Awang Goneng I have to admit belonging to the old school. My advice to pupils is to enjoy whichever games they like but never at the excessive of their studies. If it is just reading they like, by all means, so be it. But these days one is almost literally forced to take up extr-mural activities under the threat of not getting into a university without the precious 10% points – a must even if one fails in all the academic subjects which account for 90%! Pakcik would probably be a fisherman today as a punishment for getting 0% points in extra-mural activities more than half a century ago when my buddies played soccer bare-footed.


Now let us see what has become of tuition class at Almanar on a sports day.

Yesterday was a record day for Almanar. It was sports day at school and I did not know it. Children were required to attend - or be punished, so I was given to believe. As a result we had a record of ONE pupil who turned up at Almanar for Form 1 tuition class! But that was not all because the one who turned up was a boy, hence another record , 100% male!


Now who is this boy, so brave to absent himself from the school sports?

He is the third, the youngest, of three brothers in a family. His two elder brothers attended Almanar, obtained all the As they wanted in their PMR and SPM exams and are now in universities. And this little brother, in my assessment, has the highest potential of the three. I found it my duty to teach him yesterday and I did it with great pleasure ; he was so much like my own grandchildren. I think, Insya Allah, this boy will perform no less than his two successful elders.
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To be continued.


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With a sigh ( Pt 5 – sec I ) – Awang Goneng’s Comments

In the New Sunday Times of 16th January WAN A HULAIMI, better known as Awang Goneng, wrote ‘What use the newest when the method is flawed?’ copied below:

What use the newest when the method is flawed?
WAN A. HULAIMI
elsewhere@columnist.com

FEYERABEND at Sussex University in 1974 was a physical wreck, but his intellectual vigour remained intact. He walked into the lecture theatre hobbling on a crutch, and wrote three questions on the black board: What's so great about knowledge? What's so great about science? What's so great about truth?
That was classic Feyerabend. Now, just under a month to the seventeenth anniversary of his death, he is still remembered as the man who looked at method and pelted it with fruit, some ironic, some rotten, some soaked in his reductio that reduced them all to absurdum.

In conversation with a friend last week I mentioned someone -- a Malaysian -- whose skills in English language teaching was undisputed but who still remained largely ignored. "He is getting on in years," I said. "Perhaps we should tap his knowledge."

"It'll probably shine a ray of light," I said. "Now that we're wandering in a maze."

We both acknowledged that the person we were talking about had made remarkable strides. "But he may be a bit behind in his method," the friend added. "Methodology", he whispered before we both fell silent, for that was the buzzword.

Feyerabend wasn't against knowledge, or science or truth, however elusive the word. He was a philosopher of science, but when he was ill he turned to the "alternative", and it worked. Is there just one science, one way, one route to human knowledge? Or, apropos my friend, one method?

Looking at the way things are going it is easy to see the bandwagon on the road. People are always excited with this or that, the latest and the one that draws the crowd. And even that will soon fall by the wayside when a knight donning a new shining methodology comes a-riding down the road. We often forget that the business of teaching is to teach. Look at all those gleaming computers now in schools, and the Wi-Fi criss-crossing invisibly overhead. In some schools in Britain the teachers get less funding if they resist; and yet there's the Rudolf Steiner schools that refuse to have any of those newfangled gadgets and they are none the worse for that. They are probably able to know as much about Socrates as their counterparts, even if they may be lagging behind in the Facebook.

To be fair to my friend, he wasn't hitching a ride on the bandwagon but was merely stating a fact, that people can be awed by methods at the expense of results, even if it is proven again and again that old methods do work. We can have a pluralism, Feyerabend seemed to believe, even in days when he himself was clinging on to method.

In education or medicine, the dominant science dictates. The tyranny of orthodox medicine -- known pejoratively to its opponents as allopathy -- means that alternative remedies with different paradigms are attacked. There is a general disdain of learning by rote, but learning by rote carries subtle effects that cannot be measured by immediate results in terms of how the mind is shaped, how language is unconsciously absorbed. There are advantages too of course from the questioning method and the analysis of truths, so Feyerabend I guess would have set them both to the work.

"(Science) is one of the many forms of thought that have been developed by man, and not necessarily the best. It is conspicuous, noisy, and impudent, but it is inherently superior only for those who have already decided in favour of a certain ideology, or who have accepted it without ever having examined its advantages and its limits," he said in his book Against Method.

There is the danger of course in thinking that the scientific establishment, now or in the past, is neutral, and the danger of following blindly the mainstream of ideas because it is fashionable is all too obvious. Even Feyerabend's way that rejected method in favour of pluralism may be fraught, for he himself, when bemused by the criticisms of his disdain of method, said that people had failed to see the irony and the playfulness in his work. Still, it was a jolt, and a brutal reminder of how much we are taken in by the mainstream without even stopping to realise that sometimes the show, in Feyerabend's words, "has been rigged".

There are old ways and new methods. Each, as my friend the old English teacher would say, should be judged by results. For his part he has his lifetime's work to prove his worth, not bad for a man who was illiterate until he was about fifteen. He may be lagging behind as far as modern methodology is concerned, and this word came about when we were discussing English language teaching in Malaysia.

We are having problems now as we can all see and read. Our students are failing to articulate, our diplomats are at a loss for words and our teachers are using textbooks that are flawed. We are, forever, looking at what's new in the methodology, but what if the madness itself is in the method

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Pakcik read the article with interest because in a professional way he touched on a subject which would not be possible for me to express as well. Had he written it in his popular blog ‘Kecek-Kecek’ I would have left my comments there and then. That not being the case I had what he had written copied for keep in my laptop, never expecting to have a chance to comment until I read the following comment he left on my last posting ( Is it the end of the tunnel ).

“Perhaps you should extend your horizon and take people outside your catchment area too if they want to come.

Children are loaded with extra-mural activities nowadays, from navel-gazing to marching around with fake arms (wooden guns I mean).. There are more children at school so there should be more demand for coaching.

And do I hear that some schools are suspicious of outsiders who are interested in teaching for nothing?

Hold on tight, use the free time to watch the coconut trees grow or paint dry or to listen to the kampung folk doing the ratib awor. Or you yourself can do the marhaban, after all, you have many cucus who need their heads shorn (cukur ppala).”


Here I thought I had an opening to say what I had had in mind. Readers who missed Wan A Hulaimi’s article may read what he wrote before I have my say, which I will do so in three sections, this being the first. Insya Allah the 2nd part will follow soon.





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Awang Goneng Reminisces – (Pt 16) – True Life is Stranger than Fiction

As a comment on ( ‘Pakcik’s Number 3 Reminisces - Pt15) Awang Goneng chose to relate something personal, an incident that is common to all of us. We tend to dismiss a coincidence without a second thought. Awang Goneng says his new book (A Map of Trengganu) is devoted to what he claims as ‘strange phenomena of memory and strange encounter. I, for one, am sure to be looking forward this second book of his after the success of his first. Here goes what he wrote to Pakcik:

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Dear Abang Ngah,

What a lovely story. But is this the Amran I used to know in Chapel Side, W2? If so I have some photographs of him taken even before he met his mother-in-law to be.

Coincidence and memory are wonderful things. Since I started writing I have seen them collide, shaping the way I think in many different ways. In fact most of the foreword to my new book (A Map of Trengganu) is devoted to this strange phenomena of memory and strange encounters.

About twenty years ago, when travelling on the Circle Line tube on the way home from work, I sensed that the person in front was studying me very closely. I ignored him and immersed my face in a book. He leant forward and asked, "Wan Hulaimi?" I looked up and said immediately, "Oh my God, it's you Ken!" Ken and I were in the same tutorial group at University about five years earlier. He gave me his card - he was now a solicitor - and we promised to meet again for lunch. We never did.

Two years later, I left my job and had to look for a new accommodation. We thought it would be cheaper in the long run for us to buy rather than rent. We needed a solicitor for the conveyancing work, so naturally I thought of Ken, phoned him up, and he took the task immediately. Time for the exchange of contracts. Ken phoned me up to tell me about the deposit (a few thousand in those days). "Give me a couple of days, Ken, " I said. "I'll send you a cheque."

"No rush," said Ken. "I've already paid it for you."

It has been many years now but looking back at it I still find it quite incredible. A person I'd not seen for many years suddenly appearing out of the blue, to give us a bridging loan, and we weren't even best buddies at university. Was it a coincidence or was he sent to us for that purpose?

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PAKCIK’S COMMENTS.

Mi, it was not AMRAN you were familiar with in Chapel Side. That was indeed my Number 3 but was better associated with “ ------- pudding and pie” !

As for the photographs I myself would like copies to extort him with! You know that he has all daughters, three of them, whom he calls his ‘Charlie’s Angels’. There was an indication to that effect – meeting the would-be MIL first. So he can still hope for boys because he did meet his would-be FIL later.

Thank you for sharing this with us and I am sure many who have read Awang Goneng would welcome your ‘A Map of Trengganu’. Abang Ngah am more familiar with that TRENgganu than the artificial TERENgganu!

Incidentally, is Zaharah not doing something with her collections? Salaam from to her and the kids (which they are as I remember them) from Kak Mah dan Abang Ngah.

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Awnag Goneng Kita Pulak Buat Pasa - His comment on Halloween or Monsoon?

Our celebrated modern writer on old/ancient Terengganu, Awang Goneng, himself enjoying the beautiful autumn far away from his monsoon stricken state, has chosen to send the following comment. I am sure many would want to share his genuine Terengganu-speak. This time he goes poetic, perhaps the fore-runner of his future works. It would be interesting to see our readers, the like of Ninotaziz, try translating this into English. I am sure many would like to have the following ‘translated’ into ‘bahasa baku’ in the first instance. As usual this blog encourages healthy exchange of views. I welcome volunteers.
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Comment By Awang Goneng ;

Muséng jo'ong mari döh O Mèk,
bila burong ciök dök bbunyi cèk-cèk
pasir rebih ttepi pata, ömbök parök
Ikang pong takdök ssèkör d'lauk

Döh nök wak guane O wok aku sayang
Kita makang pucok je lah cicöh garang
Takdi Mök mung gi ppasör Keda Payang
Cari ikang takdök ssèkör sebutér harang

Tohok gök ubi setököl ddalang bara tu Song,
Biar garing ddalang api ceröh museng jo'ong
Kita minung kawe denge ubi cicöh gula
pah tu kita dengör bangsawang d'udara

Ggininglah bila hujang turong ssining
Habis ketör anak beranok, laki bining
Mung batok köh-köh, aku pong bereséng
Dengör sayu anjing nyallok Ppula Kambéng

Nök ccöcök ttanang pong aku dök reti
Badang letéh aku dök rök göhék tèksi
Kita gi ppanggong Sultana bila malang
Ada nasib buléh tèngök cerita hindustang

Ggitulah le ning basöh jjerok
Dok ngökkör bbawöh atap nipöh burok
Nök bèkki takdök ppitih setarang habok
Tunggulah bila ikang mari balik d'lauk
Tue Nov 02, 09:18:00 PM
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Pakcik's Response

Pakcik cannot let this go without a response. I am afraid I have none of the skills to produce anything creditable, let alone in genuine Terengganu-speak.

Aku pegi Pasar Batu Nang
Nak cari ikang
Oloh Mok Mu nok tahu
Semme ikang bbau

Ikang kerapu mate merah nynyala
Penoh lalak ijaa atah ppale
Aku tanye bakpe jjadi ggitu
Die rowak molek tahang seminggu

Keda hak se lagi jjua kembong
Semme napak perok bucik kembong
Aku tanye die jawab sombong
Tu sebab panggey ikang kembong

Kalu mu nak hak molek
Ambik hak dalang kotok pelastik
Buke tudong aku nok tengok
Ikang jerok bbau macang orang berak

Aku teringak pulak Pula Kambing
Lerni ade tepak jjua ikang
Dulu dulu aku tekenang llaki ppuang
Jalang jalang maing ujang.

Orang ppuang bawak payong
Belah atah Kering kkutong
Bawah basah sampa ppunggong ttonggeng
Orang llaki ketawe pecah keng

Mu Awang Goneng dudok jauh di inglang
Mari balek Ttanjung
Lame sangak dok ngeri orang
Habih rumah ambik kerajaang

Kata orang
Ujang mah nggeri orang
Tak same nggeri tngganu
Ade Aer bah ade budu


Berkhidmat kerana Tuhan untuk memanusiaan

Awang Goneng commented – I do it my way (part 4)

For Pak Cik’s earlier blog entry, ‘Ha Ha Ha – I do it my way (part 3)’ – the famed Awang Goneng (Kecek-Kecek blog) sent some comments. I have in the past highlighted certain individuals’ comments which deserve to be viewed by visitors to Almanar. So here are the main parts of what Awang Goneng had to say:

"....
I am in total agreement with what has been said here about the teaching of English. If only the politicians would stop messing about with our schools, changing this and that each time a new man arrives at the Ministry, to suit a superior ego's needs. I remember a man saying this about the fate of Bank Islam Malaysia (and he was one of its founders). "I know when an incompetent person has arrived at the bank. He starts to meddle with the branches and things of that sort instead of spending his time with general policies." He was bitter that all that they had achieved had gone to nought. We have every right to be bitter too, our education system, one that worked very well for you and me, is now in shambles. And as you rightly said, we are all put into this great big sausage machine, and some of our young students are made to go through the ridiculous Matrikulasi course, which is not recognised by anyone outside our system, and which is actually eduaction-in-a-hurry for our young kids.

There must be hundreds of good, retired English teachers throughout the length and breadth of our land. Forget the Kiwis and the Kangaroos, call all these people back to work. In London there is a wonderful man (a loyal Malaysian) who has been teaching English successfully for many, many years to people from all over the world, is an expert on English verbs, and who speaks English with the clipped received pronunciation of the Beeb. Has anyone come to him to ask for advice or help? No. I was talking to him once when another Malaysian made this remark. "In Malaysia, my friend, it is not what you're worth that matters. It's how much you're worth to anyone in backhanders that counts." I once saw a group of Malaysian officers here in London on a course at an idiotic college that I wouldn't even send my cat to for a feed. And I wondered who sent them all there? And how much was that worth in kickbacks to some idiot?
...."

Pak Cik' s comments :

I am not at all surprised if the majority of Malaysians share the above sentiment, not just the two TRENGGANU (watch the out-dated spelling) folks like Awang Goneng and Pak Cik. We may spell Cina or China, Kota Baharu or Kota bahru or Kota Bharu, technology, teknologi or teknoloji, i’lan or iklan, and what else, but the real values are not in the clothing and the way we pronounce them.

Indeed we have to change. But I do not believe, for instance, in the way Dewan Bahasa dan Pustaka has made the changes to modernise Bahasa Melayu ( or Bahasa Malaysia or is it now Bahasa 1Malaysia? Pardon my ignorance.) Look how Pak Cik spell the word ‘modernise’ never mind if a million others choose ‘modernize’.

It is sad in more than one way that many of us, old timers, look with disdain at the quantum leaps in our education. Even the mind-boggling names of educational institutions in the country are too much for an old block to comprehend the difference. Here are some school categories I often hear:

Sekolah rendah (kebangsaan?)
Sekolah menengah (kebangsaan?)
Sekolah menengah agama ( or is it ugama?) negeri
Sekolah menengah- ditto – persekutuan.
Imtiaz
SBP ( Sekolah Berasrama Penuh?)
SBT ( the latest 20 I believe)
MRSM
MRSM-imtiaz ( because it has a new chairman?)
Sekolah bestari
Sekolah integrasi
Sekolah elit
Sekolah wawasan
Sekolah kelaster ( klaster or cluster?)
…… and so on

The list does not include ‘Sekolah Teknik’ group which now is about to undergo drastic changes in names and contents as quoted in the local papers last week.

I have known of the ‘loyal Malaysian’ quoted by Awang Goneng, and I have been his silent admirer. Awang Goneng is in a better position to confirm whether the man does claim himself to be a Malaysian or a Malayan. When interviewed in KL during a visit home some years ago he expressed his views on learning of English by Malaysians. I can never forget one statement he made that, from his observation, of the three main races in Malaysia, Malay children would find it most difficult to study English. Indian pupils have a definite edge. After some years of running Almanar, I realise how difficult it is for kampong Malays to express in English, as an example, a string of adjectives which precede a noun. Sepasang baju Melayu bewarna biru - a pair dress Malay with colour blue!

To help overcoming some of these difficulties Almanar pupils have to do lots of exercises involving translation work from Malay. This is my way.

Additionally, if I were allowed to dream, I would think very hard about that very person in London who had successfully run for years and years a school for English study in the very heart of England. The man has to be back and work in Malaysia, full stop. To achieve that I would blackmail him with a ‘Tan Sri’ and lots and lots of money to design and run a special school for English language without any interference. To lend credence to his work, as is our general perception and practice in Malaysia, he would be honoured by a local university of ‘taraf antarabangsa’, of course, with a PhD and Professorship so that when addressed in public he will always be referred to as ‘ …. Tan Sri Datuk Prof Dr …..’. All those in the ministry of education and the respective politicians involved, in particular, will have to earn a certificate from his new school before they are allowed to mess up their jobs in upgrading the standard of English in Malaysian schools to the ‘British’ English. This, to my simple and uneducated way of thinking, will be more cost effective than importing 365 English teachers, who probably would have to work in super air-conditioned rooms at the temperature of English winter plus six months of general acclimatisation and adjustments to enable them to usefully participate in the celebrations of Hari Raya, Chinese New Year, Thaipusam, Gawai, Harvest and so forth – the 1Malaysia. And this would be my way.

Berkhidmat kerana Tuhan untuk kemanusiaan

My Way – Introduction

Three months ago Pakcik had that Bell’s palsy which turned my face more ‘attractive’ than usual. People gave long looks at me – admiring, wondering, maybe? Even Makcik, in spite of having chalked up more than forty-five years of living together, could not resist studying my face – tenderly and lovingly, of course - anxiously hoping that the look on Pakcik’s face would not last too long.

No sooner the Bell’s palsy had disappeared than a charming couple arrived. For the first time Pakcik and Makcik met Dr Umi Kalthum Ngah, a Professor Madya and a writer of at least five interesting books for children, and her husband, Sofian, both of whom are with a well known university up North. They had driven all the way to K Terengganu. Apart from a nostalgic journey to the East Coast which they had planned, they were intrigued by the work of Almanar. They wished to know ‘my way’ of achieving my objectives at Almanar. Both are dedicated educationists who have spent a great deal of their time on voluntary work for the less fortunate in their area. What is ‘my way’?

They returned home and Umi Kalthum unexpectedly posted in her blog, Hues of dewdrops, and its Malay version, Biasan Embun , an unnecessarily flattering description of our simple retiring home - ‘That white house beside the beach.’ That, I suppose, is her way of thanking us for accommodating them and for the simple meals - which we enjoyed having with them.

This week, three months later, we hosted the famed Wan A Hulaimi, now better known as Awang Goneng the pen-name of his popular book Growing Up in Trengganu (and his Kecek-Kecek blog). Unlike Umi Kalthum, he was alone because his beloved wife - now best known for her Kak Teh’s Choc-a-Bloc Blog) - chose to return to London from KL and by-pass K Terengganu, probably after having heard and read enough of the famed ‘bandaraya persisiran pantai’ and its world-class miniature mosques of Pulau Wan Man, and the ultra modern sports stadium with its ‘collapsible roof’.

During the short stay of Awang Goneng, Pakcik managed to pick his brain on a number of points on teaching of English and creative writing. I could not have a better opportunity and a better person to ask. On blog writing, he suggested that I spend some time on highlighting problems faced in running Almanar and the way I had attempted to overcome them. So it is another ‘My Way’ of doing things in this sleepy town.

Having two parties who talked of ‘My way’, insya Allah, Pakcik will make this a mini series like ‘Pakcik Reminisces’ and ‘End of the Tunnel’. To the couple and Wan Hulaimi, the two of us must register the pleasure we had of their company.

Berkhidmat kerana Tuhan untuk kemanusiaan

Merry X’mas Ian

Pak Cik have just received these beautiful pictures from my dear old friend, Ian Sanderson who now lives in the States ( see my earlier posting, Pak Cik Reminisces - Part 4) They had had 25 cm of snow.







To him and family, Pak Cik and family wish a merry X’mas. We wish merry X’mas to Jane and Peter Swarz, Julian Dalzell and family, who are all in the States. Our special wish goes to Pauline Ford of London who has just shortly lost her beloved mother. Our heart-felt condolences, Pauline. We remember it too well the day we took you, Pauline, and Nell on a tour of Masjid Negara. Likewise I wish merry X’mas to Christian visitors to this blog.




Will it be a white X’mas? Mi and Zaharah in London are sure to be out walking the Oxford Street for the beautiful lighting, or is it not there any more?

To Pak Cik's past and present Almanar pupils: Look at those beautiful snow-covered scenes that you have all read about in books like Jane Eyre, and imagine that one day you have a chance to see them for real - a change from the current monsoon rains and the sound of heavy waves lashing our shore now, day and night.

Sufiah – oh – Sufiah

When Sufiah hit the headlines recently, Pak Cik mentioned her name in class. Surprise, surprise, the whole class of Form 3 seemed to have read about the girl. I wonder if it was an English language paper they had picked up the story from. If that was so, they would have acquainted themselves with a few 'useful' English terminologies associated with Sufiah's profession ! If only they had read the London paper, which first splashed the news, they would have been thrilled with the accompanying photos. Pak Cik can say that I was truly saddened by the 'exposure' - the story as well as the pictures.


Do I feel the need to organise help for this girl ? Pak Cik commented to Almanar pupils that what they had read was the bitter side of life which they would, sooner or later, come to recognise and have to come to grip with. At the same time Pak Cik cannot take my mind off statistical figures published in a local daily recently. There is nothing to be proud of in what it says that 75% of the unemployed are Bumiputra and 60% of those involved in prostitution are Bumiputra as well. So why have we got to clamour over the lone Sufiah, an intelligent person with good education,who has willfully chosen to live the way she does? The 75% and the 60% are closer to home and are the ones we all need to be concerned about. If we cannot help them let us help ourselves and those who are dear to us from being part of that statistic. And Pak Cik sincerely hope with education, including conviction in our religious belief, we will survive the bitter tests in life.


To make the news of Sufiah appear more personal ( as Pak Cik did with our celebrity, Awang Goneng ) I must bring in Mak Cik into the picture. As soon as she had read the News of the World on internet, she scurried around searching our collection of photo albums. " I knew I had it," said Mak Cik proudly. " Here's my photograph with her."


It was on a trip to Oxford. Pak Cik's niece, Karina, was studying there and so was Sufiah, aged 13. Look at the photograph. Study the innocent face of Sufiah standing alongside Mak Cik, Pak Cik's sister and a family member. Would it ever cross our mind then that such an innocent looking and intelligent lass would be what she is today ? Such is life - a shadow, a poor player that frets and struts his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more. So, ex-pupils of Almanar, wherever you are, I must say that we ought to look at ourselves, where we are and question ourselves what good are we that gives us the right to notice and criticise 'kuman diseberang lautan'. Let us do our utmost, then hope and pray that all is well. Berkhidmat kerana Tuhan untuk kemanusiaan.

St. Hilda's College, Oxford - October 1997

Acknowledging a gift from Awang Goneng

Saying ‘thank you’, which reflects a feeling from within, is one that ought to be delivered outright, spontaneously and promptly. Any hesitation in delivery may be misunderstood. On this score Pak Cik am guilty - to none other than the current celebrity, Awang Goneng. I should have said at the end of December last year what I am about to say now.

24 Dec 2007 - Awang Goneng & Kak Teh's visit to Nuri

There was so much hullabaloo over the arrival of Awang Goneng in Kuala Terengganu. It was an event worthy of many events. Pak Cik could never hope to be heard. So Pak Cik have waited for the dust to settle before saying my piece. Hopefully, some will read and come to realise that, unknown to many, the celebrated writer is not, to Pak Cik and Mak Cik, Awang Goneng and his wife simply Kak Teh. They are very much dearer to Pak Cik and family than those glamorous names. They are simply Mi and Zaharah to us. So here goes what Pak Cik have to say to them :

"That Mi and Zaharah chose to come to our home on the very eve of the successful launching of your Growing Up in Trengganu was a gesture of your true humility to Kak Mah and Abang Ngah. Instead of allowing us to go down town to buy a copy of GUIT for you to sign, you took so much trouble driving a copy of your celebrated work all the way to Pengkalan Maras. How much greater honour can anyone hope to be given? Kak Mah and Abang Ngah pray that what we are seeing is just the beginning of something greater to come for you both. Thank you Mi and Zaharah for the visit and the precious momento."

So Pak Cik have had it out of my chest at last. Now comes the time to brag about acquaintances – call it name dropping if you may.

When someone becomes famous, many will naturally want to be identified with him one way or another. You should not be surprised to hear,
“ You know, my brother’s wife’s cousin used to go to school with Awang Goneng’s second cousin. And ….”.

A second person quickly interrupts,
“Is that so? But my wife told me her father’s brother-in-law once played football and won the game against a team which had Awang Goneng’s uncle’s third cousin in it. Not only that ……”.

Before he could continue a third person, not to be left out, cut him short,
“Now hear this. Do you know Awang Goneng’s grandfather was a very very important person in Kampong Raja, Besut? Besut is in Terengganu if you do not know. Believe it or not my grandfather lived in Pasir Puteh in Kelantan. You may not know the two states have a common border. A road links the two towns. Half way the road runs over a bridge across a river at a town called Jerteh. I have crossed that river many times. But many years ago there was no bridge. Vehicles of all sorts had to cross by ferry. So I am very certain my grandfather must have met that great Awang Goneng’s grandfather on that ferry. I am dead certain, I bet you.”

8 Aug 1983 - 99 Westbourne Terrace, Paddington

Yes indeed, Wan Hulaimi and Zaharah are no strangers to us. Our three children used to visit their home in East Acton for tea and sympathy. In fact we ourselves spent many a night in their flat on Chapelside. It was there Wan Goneng caught on camera our little boy enjoying himself in the long bath in his birthday suit! The boy could never forgive him for that embarrassing photo. It could very well be out in Awang Goneng’s next creation.

No, Pak Cik will not say any more. Those ex-Almanar pupils who have read Growing Up in Trengganu may get more information about the real Awang Goneng, such as how he commercialised ‘tempe’ in London town and how he was recently lost, driving in circles for one hour in Kuala Trengganu, of all place!

P.S. Just look at the two photos above. See what 24 years can do to people!