The Malaysiana Digests

"Won't You Be My Neighbor?"

In tribute of Mr Fred Rogers, who died yesterday at the age of 74, my headline today is 'misspelt'.

As I child, I remembered the calming effect Mr Rogers had on my day. Watching him come in the door, take off his jacket and put on his cardigan was an introduction that I truly enjoyed. It was reminiscent of an element of television in the 60s where all families on TV were perfect.

I'm lucky that my parents cared about what I could watch. Having spent 4 years growing up in the States, it's amazing to realise that the most significant things that I learned from watching TV were all good. The Brady Bunch, Sesame Street, Family Ties and Mister Rogers' Neighbourhood are timeless family entertainment that we should have more of.

Ignorance

I went to a PROMUDA talk last night entitled "Social and Economic Issues affecting Muslims in the United States and Worldwide Post 9-11" sponsored by the United States Embassy and Council of American Muslims for Understanding (CAMU). The main speaker was Dr Malik Hassan, Chairman of CAMU, with an opening address by Mr Robert A Pollard, Deputy Ambassador to Malaysia. Panelists included Dato' Dr. Ismail Ibrahim, former Chairman of the National Fatwa Council and Karim Raslan. Suffice to say that the tone of the night was patronising.

It began with Mr Pollard's speech as he struggled to thread together some commonality between America and last night's audience by focusing on globalisation as a common element that all nations need to deal with. He set the foundation for discussion by defining what the US government defines terrorism as (acts of violence against non-combatant targets...) and declared the government's love for Islam (ok, I'm exaggerating here, but it gets better later in the night).

Dr Malik spent almost half of his allotted time talking about the registration process Muslim immigrants had to go through in the US with the INS, focusing on excusing mix-ups and unnecessary jail-time for these Muslims to computer failure. He said that there was no way for INS officers to determine if a Muslim was a suspected terrorist if the system went down, because most have common names such as Muhammad and Abdullah. For those who were kept overnight in jail, his message to them was, "Blame your parents for giving you such names".

I will not go into the details of his subsequent arguments, which was riddled with unbelievably skewed views of world history. This was addressed by Karim Raslan and other PROMUDians in an emotional panel session.

My contribution to this is on how little American awareness of their place in this world has changed in my lifetime. Sometime in the mid-80s, I experienced first-hand how media spin and public opinion reflected the ignorance of America's population of Islam as a major world religion. During the murder investigation of Dr Ismail Al-Faruqi, I remembered the anger of the local Muslim community in Philadelphia of news reports accusing Dr Ismail of homosexuality based on frequent gathering of males in his home. We Muslims call these gatherings 'usrah's and yes, it is gender-segregated as Islam does not allow free mixing of the sexes. As far as I can recall, no attempt was made to correct this error.

Ever since 9-11, news reports generated by Western,especially American media, is riddled with the same level of absurd lack of research and understanding when it comes to reporting news on the Muslim world. This was somewhat made more bearable at one point as world attention was shifted to Al-Jazeera news, but again, what is one news agency?

Last night, this appeared again as Dr Malik indirectly ridiculed 2 of the most sacred names in Islam - Muhammad, our prophet and Abdullah, his father, as he excused the American government's treatment of Muslims in the US during the INS registration process.

Dr Malik declared his opposition to the American government's pro-Israeli policies, yet he said that he 'understands'. He said that we Muslims should embrace this 'gift', the fact that America will attack Iraq to 'save' Iraqis from their tyrant. Dr Ismail Ibrahim made a poignant remark when he asked the question: Will the US come to the rescue of the 60% of the world population who are current living under oppression in some form or another? Karim Raslan was eloquent in his reaction to these and many other arguments which was transparent in its attention to garner Malaysian support for the US cause. So was the other PROMUDians who spoke up, even those who felt that we should have been better hosts.

To those still sitting on the fence, or in support of US action against Iraq, it should no longer matter that those are Muslim lives. No one likes a bully. If the US can find cause with Iraq, there is nothing stopping them from moving across the Axis of Evil and expanding that axis as they see fit.

Hair: A Guide to Choosing

Over the weekend, I made some substantial purchases for grooming products at the pharmacy. I was looking forward to getting a haircut at Holis, but due to my hectic 'social' schedule (read babysitting ... ), I had to postpone it till at least the middle of this week.

Around the Kelana Jaya roundabout, another twenty-something decided she couldn't wait to have hers cut. She went off to Holis, only to be told that they
were full this weekend. She went off to another salon, only to be ripped off for RM85 for a 'nervous' cut and sub-par blow dry. Over the ride to work, we discussed about why Holis would have been better than this other shop.

When handling a woman's mane, one should never ever get it entangled in the hairdryer or a brush. When washing it, it helps to NOT have long nails. When cutting it, one should never ever look like one does not know what he's doing. Confidence is key. Once the act of hairstyling is complete, the woman should leave the salon feeling like they did a better job than what she can do herself.

It is preferable that the woman's hair is softer than it was when she went in. A good hairstylist does not take advantage of the woman's insecurities and try to sell her products and services that are exhorbitantly priced. Pestering and agressive selling should not be allowed when the hairstylist is holding a woman's precious mane in one hand and scissors in another. This should be legally-defined as extortion and such hairstylists should be jailed.

Song Bird

I am ashamed to admit that I am one of those Malaysians who have almost no appreciation for local musical talent. Not that I don't think that they're any good, but the way the local entertainment media hypes up an artist makes us know too much about them, instead of their music.

Hence, the few local artists that I have acquainted myself with have been some of the most under-covered individuals. And no, Siti Nurhaliza, as wonderful as her voice may be, is not one of them.

My all-time favourite has to be Sheila Majid. Her soulful music was complemented by how well she carried herself in public and how far she took her career. In the face of personal crisis, I never lost respect for her. She is a close ideal of what a woman should be.

Her latest song, "Inikah Cinta" (Is this love?) reminds me of the first time I met Sharizal. I wish her luck with her life with Acis.

Other Links:
Sheila Majid Fans

Thank God for the Little Things

Remember when I was struggling to look forward to anything at all (see posting below)? It's amazing how life is really like a roller coaster that goes underwater sometimes, you never know where the next turn, the next minute, the next day will take you. Overall, I would rate today as a good day. I'm glad I decided to have lunch with Shima.

When things go bad, sometimes the first people we tend to alienate are those who are closest to us. I guess that for me, it was only appropriate for me to be 'ready' to meet with my friends, and with the past couple of weeks being the way it was, being 'ready' took a while. I wish I didn't wait that long to have lunch with her. Over a light lunch of samosas and sago pudding, we joked and laughed and basked under the wonderful Malaysian afternoon sun. Shima has always been the one to prod people on - the silent coach when one faces life's worst storms. I thank God for having her as a friend. Later in the day, my little presentation became not so little.

Funny how when things become challenging, the energy we release in addressing the challenge jolts us into remembering what it's like to feel alive. I thank God for having the bosses that I have. Towards the evening, at a work-related coffee, we traded gossip and tips on things. I managed to get a lot of things done. I dropped by a shop to look for something to buy, and my friend announced that she was getting engaged next month. Above the thumping MTV pick of the week, I shrieked out of sheer happiness for her and her chosen life partner. Both have been through so much that they are one of those people that you really want to see happy together.

Later on tonight, I got a call. Farhat's operation was successful. Now he can concentrate on recovery. I also got news that Sharizal's grand uncle/auntie was involved in a car accident at their kampong in Negri Sembilan. After the lessons I learned today, I am thankful that they are alive. Looking around, there are many miracles that reaffirm life.

One doesn't have to go far. Pangkor, Maldives, all those holidays planned in my head to get my life back on track can wait a while. My booster shots came today in 4 little packages.

Keeping My Face to the Sun, So that I don't see the Shadows

I haven't been blogging at night for a while, and I noticed that it shows in the topics I choose to write on. This post will be somewhat introspective.

I went into the PROMUDA e-groups, haven't been in for a while, and it's good to see that it has been flourishing with debates on the status of women, France's stand on things, and an interesting article on how Blair's government tried to 'manufacture consent' by spinning publicly available information into a poorly constructed piece of plagiarism and using its position to try and pass it off as something credible.

All this is very disturbing. I guess life, in this century, has become very much disturbing. Perhaps the ratio of conflict per capita may have remained stagnant since the 1800s, but with all this information tunnelled almost directly to our eyeballs 24 hours a day, everyday of the week, it sometimes feels like that's all there is to this world. These continuous conflicts leave some of us in a state of emotional helplessness as some conflicts seem too big for us to do anything about.

Personally, I have to force myself to switch off for a while, lest I be too jaded to change the things I can change. Today, something hit me over afternoon coffee. With all the little things I have done to make a difference in my little life, even those things seem too far out of reach.

Work, something I hope to continue to blossom into a fulfilling career, has been uncertain for a while now. Some of my colleagues deal with it by compiling little pieces of gossip and pantry talk and trying to make sense of it all. I dealt with it by going on with work - every second counts, and instead of idling my 8 hours a day away, I plan to use it to make myself better.

Or at least that was the plan. Over coffee, I heard some of the most vicious, but frighteningly plausible theories on what has been going on. Personal agendas, high-ranking conspiracies and not-so honourable dealings were tabled for our consumption. Juicy as the story may be, the sheer hopelessness in it made me sick to my stomache. If true, this can be one of those "little people gets crushed" stories that makes it difficult for one to keep one's motivation to do one's best.

When I turn from a dark event (the accident), to a bleak event (work) to an even darker reality (the e-group), tomorrow, or next Monday even, seems daunting. At times like this, I sought solace in one of Helen Keller's famous quotes.

A Full Circle

I had lunch with a Yoda yesterday. We had the most delightful ayam kampung goreng (fried country chicken) at a place near Masjid Jamek LRT station. While munching on the crispy succulent flesh of the leanest chicken I've ever tasted, we talked about convenience.

I commented on how my life, when it comes to grocery shopping, has become a routine. Milk and bread. That's my standard weekly purchase from my trusted neighbourhood petrol station convenient store. My occassional supply of pasta, tomato puree, cheese, beef, chicken, veggies and fish comes from another mini-mart. True that the supermarket mammoths like Tesco and Giant would probably give me better prices and choice, but having to brave the human traffic on the LRT and near the office on a daily basis, why would I want to subject myself to the same thing on weekends.

My perfect grocer would be one who delivers, at best to my doorstep, but at the very least, to the nearest petrol station. The Yoda pointed out that this was what neighbourhood grocers of yonder years used to do anyway. Funny how with all these new business concepts, what we want most is what we used to have.

On a side note, thanks to Penny for being my personal shopper in Melbourne. My search for the perfect (or near-perfect) pair of shoes landed me on the Nine West website, and having good friends who travel has definitely added to convenience shopping. I owe her big time!

Names for Machines

A good friend of mine has this habit of naming his computers. Not a weird thing to do, considering men usually name their cars. I wouldn't know what women name, haven't given it enough thought to discuss the matter with my friends, but personally, I name body parts, or its attributes and actions. Someone with a pot belly might find his pot belly being named, or even have a song dedicated to
it in my head.

Those lucky ones would have their 'walk' named, categorised and filed. One of my colleagues have the honour of being 'The Elephant', not because of his size, but the way his footsteps sound - like a slow moving, heavy, four-legged mammoth.

Back to naming PCs.

Interesting that this friend has had his PCs named after fast-moving car descriptives. Men, in general, name cars after women. So to get straight to the point, I proposed a name for his new G4 MAC. A woman's name. He's trying it out with the voice recognition system.

Harapkan Pagar

There is an old Malay saying - harapkan pagar, pagar makan padi,
which means that those whom one relies on to protect you sometimes takes advantage of the situation. In the course of getting the accident sorted out, we have been harassed by not-so well meaning agents of police officers and lawyers, who, in a time when families are already overwhelmed with grief and much anxiety, prey on their lack of objectivity.

We have been approached by these people with promises that hospital bills will be settled. Lucky for us, we quickly engaged credible lawyers to advise us on procedures in dealing with the police, insurance etc. There are those who are not so fortunate and have been tricked into signing off their legal rights to these unscrupulous individuals, leaving themselves open to exploitation by police who sell cases to lawyers, lawyers who take excessive cuts in accident claims to the detriment of those who need it most, and workshops who overcharge repair works to exploit insurance companies.

I spent some time at the police station watching people, police officers whom we trust to do the right thing, and their victims. I wonder how they can go to sleep at night.

Farhat will be having his multiple surgeries today. I talked to him yesterday. He is very scared. I was told the pain of recovering would be just as difficult as facing the surgery table.

The Accident Series

I would like to announce the beginning of the 'accident' series. Sharizal, my two brothers, Farhat and Fawaz, and myself, met with an accident on the 1st of February. All of us are fine, with the exception of Farhat who will be undergoing a jaw reconstruction and femur surgery tomorrow. The experience has been nonetheless traumatising for the family, and I feel that this lesson is too valuable to not share with the world.