LIFE OVERSEAS - GUIDING LIGHT

Pei Yi visited us recently and we had loads of fun. Audrey decided to write an article for New Straits Times Malaysia and it was carried on 28 August 2011........
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AN emigrant often hears cries of “I will come to visit you soon!” from friends.

But typically, words remain words and rarely become actions.

However, my friend Emily Tian Pei Yi from the University of Bristol, England did visit my turf, Ireland.
And because I was no longer a stranger to the country, I became her tour guide.

Our first stop was King John’s Castle, Limerick as we explored the grounds and narrow spiralling staircases made of stone.

It is intriguing to imagine how the maidens of old walked in gowns and high heels.

There is a section in the fort where visitors can experience how it felt to be a prisoner in medieval times, restrained with wooden stocks.

As Ireland is famous for its green pastures and picturesque towns, taking a stroll by a lake and witnessing the battle of seagulls versus ducks for breadcrumbs is a must.

Our next destination had something to do with FarmVille, the well-known game on Facebook.

But instead of staring at an LCD screen and clicking away with the mouse, we experienced it first-hand.

We were given the golden chance to ride behind the wheels of a tractor.

That was just the start of the tour.

Later, the farm owner handed us a bag of scrumptious biscuits and we were left in a field of starving animals.

The sheep were most peculiar as the average sheep would make a break for it at the sound of a human. But these ones came running at us with mouths open wide with only one thing on their minds — get the biscuits.

Fun and laughter aside, a farmer’s job is a challenging one.

After all the petting, the owner’s eyebrows began to furrow as she said: “There is one sheep short.”

After recounting several times, she let out a relieved sigh. “All 26 sheep are accounted for.”

What astounded me was that she knew all of them by name.

As for us, we got to enjoy ourselves for the day — we petted the sheep and fed the donkeys — but the hard work is the upkeep of the animals.
Our next stop? Limerick Milk Market.

Giggles and snorts were in the air as we compared it with the pasar malam.
In Limerick Milk Market, stalls sell multicoloured cheeses, hand-knitted teapot cosies and steaming cups of hot cocoa, for example.

In Malaysia, we get crispy fried chicken, refreshing lemonade jelly drink and delectable apam balik.

Both markets are special in their own way with their unique aroma and charm.

But sadly, the holiday had to come to an end as Tian had to return to Bristol.

She wrote a card expressing her gratitude for my hospitality and appreciation for the tours.

Reading her note made me feel like I should be the one to thank her.

This is because as I walked through the streets, visited the towns and different parts of Ireland, I too learnt that there is always something new to look forward to.

When Tian arrived in Ireland, I thought that I would show her what I was familiar with.

Never did I know that I would one day stroke sheep without them running away or that there are multicoloured cheeses just a stone’s throw away

THE CIRCLE OF LOVE DOES NOT EXCLUDE

The circle has always been a symbol of sorts. While we have the Lion King’s infamous Circle of Life and the circle of prehistoric stones that stand at Stonehenge, we also encounter man-made circles.

I am talking about those who belong to the “inner circle” and those who are left to stand outside, looking in. Society has the tendency to exclude those who are different.


Rather than trying to understand and embrace another, the easier stand is to set up boundaries so impossible to penetrate, not unlike barbed wires.

The question is: are these barbed wires manacles of the mind, keeping outside ideas from infiltrating? Barbed wires set up to reject the new can only lead to a loss, a loss of knowledge and understanding.


With a few unpleasant exceptions, a foreigner to Malaysia is usually made to feel welcome.


The tag words of the Malaysian national carrier: “Arrive as a guest, leave as a friend” could not have summed it up any better.

Sadly, the same cannot be said of Malaysians trying to fit into a foreign country. August is the month where students who intend to study overseas start to prepare themselves to leave home.


Through my conversations with Malaysians who have studied or are still studying abroad, although much effort is put into acculturation, there seems to be an invisible line that is difficult to cross.


The inner circle, i.e. people of the host country, consciously or unconsciously remains sacrosanct.

I can only attribute this to a lack of exposure to other races. Most countries consist of a mono cultural background. If you do not happen to be interested in the practices or pursuits of the people of the land, therein lies a dearth in conversation topics or social bonding.


I am not defending a kampung attitude while studying overseas, but perhaps these young Malaysians have tried to break into such sacred circles, and have given up in the process.


I attended a talk on teaching children with special needs and the current move is to include, and not to exclude, such children from the mainstream crowd. So, we have children with special needs sitting side by side with other able-bodied children during class time. This is a classic example of inclusion.


We exclude because of a lack of love, understanding, prejudice and fear. We include because we care for the person, we treat others as equals, we want to make a difference and learn from each other.

The Greeks, in all their wisdom, coined four words for love: Storgé (affection), Phileo (friendship), Eros (sexual love) and Agape (unconditional love).


We can only know someone if we spend enough time with her. The process of communication can be impeded by language barrier.

I have heard of a German exchange student say that because she has difficulty expressing herself in English, students of the host country simply do not have the patience to hear her out.


If we do not bother to know a person, her thoughts or her ideas, then we will not include her in the inner circle.


When a baby cries in the company of other babies, the mother of the baby will come running because she recognises the cry.


A shepherd will make sure that every sheep has entered the pen and if any is missing, he will go and find the lost sheep. The bottomline is when we know someone, then only can we love her.

What am I saying? In simple terms, it takes time and effort to know a person. It takes resolve to offer that hand of friendship and the warmth of affection.


Modern man has no time or tenacity to bother about another quite unlike himself.


Sadly, that is his loss.

SOURCE: THE NEW STRAITS TIMES 28 AUG 2011 http://www.highbeam.com/doc/1P1-196819535.html

LIFE OVERSEAS: AT HOME ON EMERALD ISLE

My 17 year old, Audrey also writes fortnightly for New Straits Times Malaysia. This is her second article in YOU, Learning Curve.

MANY Malaysian students aspire to study abroad — Australia, the United Kingdom and the United States to name a few. I have been studying in Ireland for a year now. The adage “absence makes the heart grow fonder” is true indeed now that I am 10,940km away from Malaysia where I have been living for the past 16 years of my life. Ireland with all its rustic charm is different indeed.

Firstly, I was transported from a bustling city with skyscrapers and congested streets to a heritage town in the countryside filled with verdant greens, lowing Friesian cows, neighing horses and bleating lambs.

Then culture shock came. When I first arrived, I had a stereotyped image of the people in Ireland and its culture, which was greatly influenced by the media and the books that I had read.

Malaysia is known for its friendly people. Hospitality comes naturally to Malaysians as we are brought up in a multicultural society. Malaysians can just click in an instant. For me, it takes a mere five minutes to be engaged in an interesting conversation, once the introductions are over, especially when it involves the same age group.

Hanging out with friends at any time after school was a norm. One of our favourite haunts was the mamak eatery where food and drinks are sold twenty-four seven at reasonable prices in an open environment. Not so in the town where I live in Ireland. Although strangers on the street greet each other “Hello” or “How are ya?”, Asians are as scarce as hen’s teeth.

When I first arrived, I wanted to build bridges but it was only after endless attempts that a friendship was formed followed by a deeper bond. I felt that I had to put a lot of effort and thought into a conversation. Shopping malls and eateries close by 6pm. Only smoke-free bars and pubs open for longer hours. It is therefore difficult for students to find suitable places to meet their peers. But the scenery in Ireland is breathtaking. The fresh air and the green belt are amazing.

But when the summer holidays came, I could not wait to return to my hometown, Subang Jaya. As the national carrier touched down at Kuala Lumpur International Airport, my heart missed a beat as I heard the words, “And to all Malaysians, welcome home”.

Expectations were already set on the number of days which would be spent at home. Images of wolfing down nasi lemak, chee cheong fan and roti canai topped my list — a break from boiled cabbage, mashed potatoes and mushy peas typical of Irish menu.

The anticipation of seeing familiar faces at the arrival gate was high. The first day was emotional as I had not told many of my friends about my return and there were screams and tears in every direction as we hugged each other. It struck me there and then that home is irreplaceable. I might have been absent for the past year but it was as if I had never left. Days were packed with fun-filled activities. My motto was to make the best of it and be on the go throughout the six-week holiday.

It is said that the grass is greener on the other side but that is not necessarily true. After being in Ireland for a year, I can say that it is all a matter of perception. It is what we want to make of our environment that matters most. We should stop looking at the world through a negative lens. It is about a change in focus to realise that there is so much to be thankful for.

Initially, I felt that Ireland would never become a place that I could call home. Now I can say that I am rich in my experiences and I am thankful that I can call both Malaysia and Ireland home.

All it took was time.

EXPAND YOUR BORDERS

IT is always nice to find a reason to celebrate, to decorate a town and to mingle with the local crowd.
We recently celebrated the Brian Boru festival. Brian Boru (941-1014) was the last High King of Ireland. In memory of what he had done for Ireland, there was a line-up of interesting events for both the young and not so young, from concerts to fire throwing dances to falcon training to art trails.

The festivity and revelry got most of us to the streets, and encouraged by the fine weather, we found every excuse to stay outdoors for as long as possible, enjoying the programmes till the wee hours of the morning.

What was really amazing was that I found out that the people I knew who worked behind cold steely counters during the day exuberated warmth and passion in the arts by night. The dependable post mistress who drives a green van and delivers mail across hill and dale is also a very talented actress on stage. The town news correspondent, who is a familiar face at interesting events, interviewing people and scribbling in her notebook, is also a choir master. The manager of an Arts Centre is also a self taught artist who has put up her work for sale on the art trail.The transition is so fluid and if I had not known who or where they work, I would have thought they were professional artistes! It was surely an out-of-the box experience for me to see the same people I know by day become quite something else by night.

The closest image that I have of such versatility must have been one of the late Tan Sri P. Ramlee's films, Masam Masam Manis, where Sha'ari, the protagonist, is a teacher by day and a night club musician by night.

If I can remember correctly, my mind has been programmed to accept that dentists are dentists and road sweepers are road sweepers with a few exceptions to the rule. Over here, borders delineating what is expected or not expected do not seem to exist.

At poetry readings, I do not only see lecturers and students but the man-on-the-street who just enjoys poetry over a cup of tea. I know of one burly man who reads Helen Steiner Rice's poetry before he falls asleep and he is not an academic. People in suits and people in jeans read on the bus, on the tram and on the underground train.

Maybe it is because of the school system. There is no rigid streaming of the arts or sciences according to public examination results. A student who has done well in her junior certificate (similar to Penilaian Menengah Rendah) can pursue all science subjects, all arts subjects or a mixture of both the sciences and the arts for her next grade. There is no stigma attached to whatever stream of studies and the chosen course does not make one more superior or inferior.

Maybe it is because of the environment. There is certainly no dearth of the arts here. After all, the artistes' exemption scheme, which has been in place for 40 years, marks Ireland out as unique in Europe in its support for its artistes, the rationale behind the legislation was, inter alia, to create an environment in which the arts could flourish, and artistes living on modest incomes can practise their creative skills.

Maybe it is because of the parents' mindsets. Experience, practicality, economic necessity and well-told stories have influenced the parent's mind concerning career guidance. So we tell our children: if you choose profession A, you will succeed and if you choose profession B you will most likely die a pauper. So with good intentions, we navigate our children towards certain routes to success and steer them away from participation in activities that will distract.

As I see the wealth of opportunities and encouragement here and how young people are cheered on to explore their capabilities and talents, I will hold out a candle to the parent, the teacher, the friend or the significant adult who has made a difference in the life of that individual.

Next year, when the celebrations come around again, I think I must muster enough courage to join a stage play or to enquire humbly if my painting is good enough to be put on the art trail.

WATERFORD NEWS

NOTHING TO FEAR AT ALL

I NEVER knew I could feel so at peace sitting in a gryke, with my face to the wind and my back to a dolmen. A gryke is a crevice in a limestone floor and a dolmen is a type of single-chamber megalithic tomb, usually consisting of three or more upright stones supporting a large flat horizontal capstone (table). Most date from the early Neolithic period (4000 to 3000 BCE).
This was not my first time visiting the Burren, an area of limestone rock covering awesome mountains and gentle valleys with meandering streams. Only this time around, I could hear the echoes of silence as it was a bank holiday and there were hardly any tourists.

I found myself humbled by the visual delights of this unspoilt corner of Ireland and intrigued by the ancient mysteries. I wondered about the civilisations that lived there aeons ago. I could imagine men of yore hunting wolves and bears and could hear the sounds and feel the atmosphere of past civilisations.

I wondered about their daily lives, and their thoughts, feelings, joys and fears. From what I had read, they were afraid of the unknown, afraid of the Greater Being, afraid of living and afraid of dying. Most of them hardly lived beyond 40 because of the harsh landscape.
Like most people, I was brought up on a diet of ghosts, spirits and superstitions which were fodder to a child's fertile mind. Horror movies and playing hide and seek in dark places exacerbated the fear. But at the Burren I was amazed that I could be so close to the Poulnabrone Dolmen which once housed the bones of a newborn baby, six juveniles and 16 to 22 adults, and not feel afraid. Poulnabrone literally means "the hole of the sorrows".

Most people are afraid of something or the other. We are afraid of what others will think of us or what we do. We are afraid of losing friends if we dare to be different and losing face, especially if someone has tarred our reputation.

If we think about the things we have done, we will realise that there will always be two opinions for all our actions. The same act will be condemned by some, while others will applaud.

We are afraid of change. If you watch children at play, you can see them switching roles and taking on challenges. As we grow older we become more comfortable with certain surroundings. We sit on the same bench, drink from the same cup and we hobble along instead of walking with a sprint.

We have become great friends with familiarity and predictability has become our security blanket. It takes the strength of many horses combined to drag us out of the arena we call routine.

We are afraid of failure. Sometimes, we think that something will not work out even before it has begun. The haunting reality of failure is very real and no respecter of men. Children who have been put down by significant adults and told that they will not measure up to anything, struggle with this.

The perfectionist who craves for an orderly world struggles with this. The achiever who is not pacified by his last success also struggles with this.

We are afraid of losing the people that we love. We are afraid that if we set boundaries and standards for our teenage children, they will leave home, never to return. We are afraid if our children are not filial, they will abandon us when we are old. We are afraid that the person whom we love will leave us to be alone again.

Fear can also be the result of worrying. We worry when we do not know what will happen next. Franklin D. Roosevelt said in his first inaugural address that "there is nothing to fear but fear itself". This famous quote referred to the fact that uninformed fears and irrational panic can turn a manageable situation into a dangerous crisis.

If we analyse the times when we were worried or fearful, we can safely say that some of the most dreaded things never really came to past.

MAKING CHOICES

Listening to Elton John’s Goodbye, yellow brick road on the radio brings back pleasant memories. It was the song to sing during the 70s when my sister and I cycled to school, when I met up with my classmates and when I needed a break from doing homework. We were living in a shop house at that time and there were two shops selling music cassettes and records in the vicinity so the song blared through the loudspeakers in its heyday. I knew the words by heart but I now wonder whether I really understood what they meant. At that time, it sufficed that the tune was catchy enough.

The yellow brick road appears in the novel The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum. It is the road for Dorothy to follow if she wishes to reach the Emerald City which is built of green glass, emeralds and other jewels. The Emerald City symbolises a fraudulent world and does not have true value.

At some point or other we work towards reaching this Emerald City.

For some, purchasing only branded items would signify that they have reached the Emerald City.

Whether it was a decade ago or now, branded goods still play a very big role when we want to be associated with the uptown lifestyle. Most of us love beautiful and expensive things. This is absolutely alright until we become obsessed with wearing designer labels and nothing else and judge others who are not like us. We were visiting the Spanish Steps in Rome when my son told me his boss had asked him to buy a Prada bag. So we went to the most famous fashion streets in Rome: Via Condotti, Via Borgognona and Via Frattina. In our sensible clothes and shoes, we did not exactly look like potential haute couture customers, so needless to say no stylishly coiffured sales assistant in black stilettos rushed over to serve us.

For others, accumulating accolades and awards would mean that success is in their hands.

There is nothing wrong with advancing oneself or getting into prestigious universities but it is very annoying to have to put up with people who constantly boast about their own accomplishments or their children’s accomplishments. These people are also extremely competitive and they love to talk about themselves, their worlds and their views. My driving instructor once told me that one learner driver failed six times on the road because he would not follow instructions. That particular learner driver had a doctorate from a renowned university and thought he knew the rules of the road better than the driving instructor. A well qualified person who is modest and unassuming is a breath of fresh air and a real gem.

Then , there are some who want to reach the Emerald City by riding on others. These are the shallow sycophants and the opportunists who would work to selfishly advance their own careers without putting in their fair share of work. I remember someone asking me to edit a book. What I later found out was that she would ‘dictate’ some ideas to me but I was to write out the whole book. Her name would then be published as the writer and I would be the editor. I was aghast that such an idea could have been hatched in the first place.

If there is a physical and temporal emerald city, then there must be dreams and visions and values that are good and rewarding. Hard work, discipline and determination are values to be proud of. One of the students who attended a MUET seminar that I once conducted had just written to me.

“I'm Adzim and I hope that you still remember me...After a series of failures in my attempt to achieve Band 4, I finally scored Band 5 for my MUET (mid-year 2011)...Just want to let you know and I have included my results in the attachment file.”

Walt Disney said, ‘If you do not have dreams, how are you going to make your dream come true!" and "All dreams are possible if we have the courage to pursue them!"

Staying true to who we are will help us take stock and consciously shed off the trappings that we pick up along the way. It is exactly a year since I opted out for early retirement. Someone told me that I would die of boredom and that I would be running back to the office after six months. All I can say is that nothing could match the sheer satisfaction of my first year of living life in all its simplicity, with time to call my own.

As I sit in the car and listen to the rest of Elton John’s song, I am glad I took that decisive step and never looked back.