MY FIRST BLACK AND WHITE TELEVISION

I enjoyed watching television programmes since the day such programmes were made available. I was in the primary school then and not many people could afford to own a TV.

            At that time, those who could afford such a luxury were working with the English companies like MTD (Malayan Tin Dredging) or the Perak Hydro Electric that produced electricity by burning diesel to turn the turbines. There were a few families who owned TV sets and they allowed us to watch programmes from outside their windows.

            At night I would run off to the house nearby which had the TV. It belonged to an Indian family. They would switch it on at about 7.30 pm. The children enjoyed the programmes just as I did. I would stand outside their house and watched the programmes through the window. If they were not around, I would go to another house to do the same thing. Most of the time, I was alone but there were times when other kids joined me.

            There were programmes like ‘The Time Tunnel’, ‘Land of the Giants’, ‘Samurai’, and ‘Mission Impossible’. Sometimes other kids from nearby joined me but most of the time I was alone.

            Coming back to the first TV. I bought it in 1997. That was when I was working at United Engineers as a laboratory assistant. At that time I was getting RM350 which was considered quite a good sum.

            I felt that a TV was needed to provide some form of entertainment for the family. So I decided to get one. Even a black and white one was good enough. Of course the coloured ones were in the market but they cost a fortune.

            After getting my first pay envelope I went to Hock Soon Heng in Batu Gajah. I talked to the owner about getting a TV and that I was going to settle the payment in three installments. He agreed to my plan as my family had good relationship with the owner.

            The next day the technicians came and installed the TV antennae and set up the TV. It was the talk of the neighbourhood. My neighbours were curious and eager to watch the programmes.

            There were only two channels; TV1 and TV2, so we had a limited choice of programmes. On most days there were the regular English programmes. On Friday night there was the only Malay movie and on Wednesday there was the Chinese movie. The Tamil movie was screened on Saturday.

            So on Wednesday night, my Chinese neighbours would be seated in front of the TV after dinner. As kind hosts, we obliged to offer the front seats to them. Then on Saturday nights, my Indian neighbours would occupy the seats. We had to accompany them until the movie ended. Only then would we switch off the TV and go to bed. If the movie ended late, we would have to retire late too. At least I did not have to run to my neighbour’s house to enjoy my past time; watching TV programmes.

            I settled the payments in three installments as promised and I quit the job a few months after that to join the Teachers’ Training programme in 1978.

THE GROWING UP YEARS

There are six of us (2 boys and four girls) and I am the eldest. The odd thing was I was the only one sent to study in an English medium school while the other siblings went to Chinese medium schools.

            In the primary school days I learnt a lot of nursery rhymes and children songs and heard a lot of stories from the teachers then. I learnt songs like Old McDonald, Row your boat, Sing a song of six pence, Mary had a little lamb and others. Of course they were part of the nursery rhymes.

            In those days the teachers were great because they had to teach, mould us, scold us, guide us and on top of that they were great story tellers and singers too.

            At home, dinner was simple and delicious yet nutritious. As we grew up, we took on chores like cleaning the house, clean the backyard, chopping firewood and dying them, feed the chicken, and even clean the chicken coop. We had to prepare rice so that my mother could have time to prepare the dishes and dinner would be ready in a jiffy.

            Every night we had dinner together; my grandparents, parents and the six of us. There was a great feeling of togetherness and laughter was part of it tool. We shared jokes and tales from parents about the farm and happenings from school.

            After dinner, we would gather in the small living room cum dining hall. We would listen to stories told by my grandmother and mother. They had so many tales to tell especially about the hardship and life in China. Incidentally, my grandparents and my father were from China. My father still has a brother and a sister there. Their stories really touched our hearts; especially the hard life as farmers. They slogged from dawn till dusk to get enough food for the table.

            Due to the desperation and the exodus of people to Malaya, my grandparents brought my dad, their eldest and youngest daughters here in the hope that they would earn enough for the folks back in China.

            There was one particular night when we gathered in the living room. My father had gone out as usual to meet his friends in town. My mum, grandma and the rest of us gathered and chatted. It was a Friday night so we could stay up late as we did not have to go to school the next day.

            As the eldest among the siblings, I had more experience especially about school. So to add some laugher and entertainment, I borrow an old towel and wrapped it around my waist. I sang the song ‘Old McDonald’ and walked slowly towards the front door. At the same time, I imitated the sounds of animals in the song; cockerel, cow, goat, pig and ducks. As I approached the front door, I purposely let loose and dropped the towel. Of course I had my shorts on. My sisters and brother laughed and howled aloud at my antic.  My mum and grandma also clapped and laughed . the roar was loud and I bet my neighbours would be wondering what the commotion was about.

            I repeated the action and each time I created a din. I knew that I had the knack to entertain others. 

RECESS IN THE BUSHES

My primary school days were filled with many interesting events and adventures. They are very memorable and unforgettable. I practically enjoyed every day in school.

            Our classroom was beside a little hill slope and beyond that was a piece of land filled with bushes, shrubs and trees. It was actually a secondary jungle and it provided us a place to play during the recess.

            There were two reasons why I did not have food in the canteen at that time. Firstly the canteen was small and sold very limited amount of food. Secondly I did not have the money to spend then, as my parents could not afford to give me pocket money. Often I would just drink cold water straight from the tap whenever hunger pangs were felt. I did not carry water bottles then as there were no such things as plastic tumblers. We had to slug glass bottles if we had to but they were bulky and could break easily.

            Anyway the changing of classes and time for recess were announced by the ringing if the school bell. Recess was the most awaited moment each day. Although it lasted twenty minutes we enjoyed every minute of it.

            Once the bell was rung, we rushed out of the class after the teacher had left. Then we would climb up the hill slope and dash into the bushes, we hid among the shrubs and bushes and waited for the others to enter.

            Usually my friends and I would be the first to hide there. We would pull and stretch the vines of the shrubs across the paths and waited for the ‘victims’. Whenever anyone rushed along the path, we would pull the vines stout and the poor guy would land or fall into the bushes. In all the incidences no one was actually seriously injured. There were scratches and cuts and bruises but being boys, we endured every bit of the pain.

            The other sign of the tumble was the stain on the school uniform. There were stains of mud, twigs and leaves. Our hair was a mess but all that were part of the thrills and spills. I also had the experience several times because I entered the ‘playground’ later than the others. They had already set the snare and I ran straight into it. I tripped and fell into the bushes. It was all part of the game.

            Of course you would expect that we would know the spots where the trap was set. The odd thing was we never set the traps at the same place. Often we set them at unexpected places.

BLOOD ND BRAIN

Have you seen blood and brain tissue with your own eyes? I do not mean in movies or pictures. Many of us have seen these in movies or pictures. It can be gory. It is worse if you happen to see these in real.

            I was in the primary school; in standard 4 if I am not mistaken when I had the opportunity to witness such a scene. My friends and I would always walk along the railway track instead of the road that ran parallel to it.

            There were actually two reasons why we did that. One was to avoid the traffic on the road and the students who travelled by bus. They would shout and throw stuff at us from the bus. They disliked us and until today, I cannot understand them. The second reason was that by walking on the wooden beams or slippers along the railway track, our paces were faster as our steps were bigger. Hence we took a shorter time to reach the school or to reach home.

            On that fateful evening after school, we saw a big crowd of people on the railway track. We were curious as to the commotion there. Being curious as most kid were, we walked faster and faster and gathered with the crowd. We pushed and squeezed to the front of the crowd. In front of us were the body parts lying on the side of the railway track.

            We were put off by two other things. There was a lot of blood and bits and pieces of white tissue scattered on the track. The smell was strong and penetrated every cell of our noses. We immediately pinched our noses and ran away. We were choked and at the same time we shivered due to the gory and frightening sight. We heard from the bystanders that the white tissue was brain tissue.

            The stench lingered on our clothes. As we ran we practically vomited and belched whatever was in our guts. We were gasping for air, wheezing and breathing with great difficulty. At a distance we walked and whispered with difficulty and discussed the scene.

            The villagers from around came to know of the incident and the death of the little girl became the topic of discussion for a long time. Apparently, she was playing on the railway tracks. She slipped and fell on the tracks. The train could not stop in time and the huge iron wheels rolled over her and smashed her head. The body parts were thrown all over the tracks. Her brain tissue being white was thrown all over the track together with blood.

            That night I had a frightful nightmare. I cried my heart out and to this day the sight of blood would take me back to 1966 when I was in Standard 4.