LOST AND FOUND IN DUBLIN

The Irish Daily Mail reported that a humbolt penguin was stolen from the Dublin
zoo.
The flightless 10-year-old Kelli suffered the stress of the kidnap ordeal and disgusted zookeepers swore that the delicate bird could have died from the trauma and her other half could have wasted his life pining away for her as well.

Penguin team leader Eddie O’ Brien said: “These birds get stressed very easily when taken out of their environment. They don’t react well and it could easily have caused a heart attack.” The penguin was traumatised after it was stuffed into a bag and abandoned on a busy street. In human terms, that spells what culture shock is.

I was reading my daughter’s journal and saw first-hand what culture shock is. Everything here in Ireland is so different from Subang Jaya .
The active and socially independent teen who jumped from the commuter train to the bus, suddenly finding that she has lost her “wheels”, is a dramatic change.

When before she could go with friends to watch Knight and Day, now she has to beg her parents to bring her for Eclipse. Not only that, a cinema ticket for Tw il ig ht in Malaysia would cost RM6 while a ticket here would cost E10 (RM41) .

So she penned the following lines in her journal: “I miss Malaysia. I miss going out for walks not worrying how cold it is. I miss taking a cold bath on a hot day. I miss enjoying a nice bowl of cendol with friends. I miss saying, ‘photos will be on Facebook! Will tag you soon’. I miss calling anyone whenever I like. But then... I guess this is what God has planned for me.” And that was for the first week.
By the second week, things looked perkier. She registered for a drama workshop and youth activities at the local church.

A significant turning point was when we visited the Saturday farmer s’ market and the whiff of spicy Malaysian food changed all pers p e c t i ve .

What is a Malaysian without spicy food? Where we stay, finding a Malaysian is as scarce as hen’s teeth and when we saw the fishmonger at the market who bore some resemblance to a Malaysian, I asked, “Are you Malaysian?” He smiled and said coyly: “No, I’m Filipino, but we are near each othe r. ” After a whole week of mashed potatoes and chips, we were starting to worry about maintaining our f igures.
So a visit to the Asian supermarket was in line and there they were — rows and rows of Asian products ranging from jackfruit chips from Vietnam to Brahim’s sambal tumis paste from Malaysia.

At the vegetable section under a huge display tag “Chinese vegetab le s”, we saw ladies’ finger s, k a il a n , siew pak choy, angled loofah and bean sprouts.

My favourite Lee Kum Kee oyster sauce and Popo dark soya sauce were all there. We screamed in delight as we had finally found the centre of our being. Small things m at t e r.

Audrey will start school in September. I think of the hundreds of Malaysian students who will be coming to Dublin to study for the first time in September. Away from home and from loved ones, how will they fare? The first challenge will be the weather. Then comes the people and the food. The Irish are friendly people but then again it would certainly take a lot of resolve to get started, adapt and mingle. I fear many will cry buckets of tears as they think of home 10, 880 km aw ay.

So back to the humbolt penguin that was found and returned safely to the zoo. It was bundled up from a safe and familiar environment and thrust into the strange unknown.

But the beauty of it is that it sur vived.

REALISING A DREAM

I HAVE climbed the high tower of Yeat’s Thoor Ballylee, the Tower house and surveyed the terrain of my life.
Nearby at Coole Lake, white swans gracefully swim with cygnets in tow. The air is fresh and crisp. Hundred-year-old trees line the countryside road, and the
smell of oven-baked soda bread fills the air. Wild daisies throng the road and fields of lavender overwhelm me. The images seem to jump up from a storybook or a movie like P.S. I Love You.
Deciding to leave a profession that I had enjoyed for 27 years is a gargantuan task of resolve and determination. The day I handed in my optional retirement papers, close friends screamed, “You are too young”, “I’m so envious” and “What a loss to Malaysia” and my students cried “The university will die without you”.

Knowing that I was entering a lecture hall for that final lecture and listening to students crooning farewell songs could bring a tear even to a glass eye.

Some of my colleagues tapped me on my shoulder and said, “Brave girl, I wish I could do the same”.
Indeed it was a big step, taken after careful planning and building up the nest egg.

Women in my mother’s day hardly went out to work. They could only officially retire when they leave the world. Since young, my motto has always been to excel
in what I do. Some call me a perfectionist, but I prefer to see it as trying to perfect whatever I do, to learn from my mistakes and not to be too harsh on another or worse still, take a moral stand and judge others with my limited mortal eye.

I can remember that my original dream was to be a homemaker, a wife and a mother. Somehow, I have this affinity with all things related to housekeeping and child rearing. But like any other young person who never made it to the
Forbes list of the richest people in America, I had to join the workforce.

The students were wonderful. The admiration was great. The floodlights, the microphone and the audience made it all very tantalising.

The pretty kebayas, the good money and grand dinners made the adrenalin rush.

The best was seeing one’s name in the newspaper, in journals and in books.

But then again….. It is only when we dare to leave the old that we can embrace the new. If Columbus had not left his homeland, America would not have been discovered.

When something extraordinary happens in the lives of ordinary people, it is worth every sacrifice of the familiar to welcome the challenge that lies ahead.

Like trading in the regional driving licence for a more expensive international one. Having been so used to cruising along concrete nondescript highways, I now have to learn all over again how to meander through country roads flanked by lush green meadows and the Jacobean sheep and Friesians that dot them. I would
also have to trade in my 34°C of everyday sunshine for drizzles, frost and snow.

As I celebrated the last Chinese New Year with family and friends and listened to the sounds of firecrackers and drumbeats that ushered in the Year of the Tiger, I wondered whether the Chinese New Year festival in another land would be the same?

The best part is that I am learning to savour. I am learning to take long
walks and enjoy Oscar Wilde’s writings. I am learning to spend time with the people I love and treasure the moments. I am learning that it is all right to leave behind things that once mattered — the rat race, the promotion, the glamour, the glory and the chasing after the wind. I am learning it is fine just to get to know myself. No more paper qualifications, no more applause, no more appendages to define my being.

It is a celebration of diversity where I will learn to live with a new bunch of people renowned for their wit and humour. While I’ll teach others to eat with chopsticks, I will also learn that Riverdance is not necessarily by the river.

It is summer again and a new chapter of my life has begun. I am now basking in the beauty of an idyllic county, learning how to be proud of who I am and what I have become. I am back to my original dream of being a full-time wife and mother. And I am still perfecting the art of frying sausages and hoping to catch a leprechaun.