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.

INCIDENT IN THE BUS

         In Form 6 I had to attend classes in Anderson School in Ipoh as there were no such classes in my home town. Therefore I had to get up at 5.30 am, cycle to the bus station in Batu Gajah and then take two buses to reach the school.

            The return trip was the opposite. I would normally reach the Ipoh bus staion at 1.30pm or even 1.45 pm. Then there would be another 15 minutes for the bus back home if I was lucky.

            On one of the trip back to Batu Gajah, I was seated with my friends who would usually be Chan Yit Meng. The buses did not have air conditioners in those days. The only cool air was from the breeze or wind from the open windows. It was stuffy and hot and the ride was a bumpy one. We would normally doze off or nap during the 45 minute journey. Most of the time, our heads would rock to and fro with the rhythm of the turns and stops made by the bus. We frequently knocked our heads and at time onto the windows. We were lucky was neither or heads or the glass windows shattered.

            On one occasion I was dozing off when I felt someone or somebody touching my shoulder. I thought it was a dream or just a prank. The hand slowly moved and the fingers reached my shirt pocket. It was actually trying to pinch something that was there.

            I opened eyes and saw the fingers trying to retrieve my bus pass or card from my pocket. I slapped the hand and quickly turned around.

            The hand belonged to a girl seated behind me. I was furious and I shouted at her for trying to pinch my bus pass. I gave her a stern warning and if it happened again, I wouldnot hesitate to show her my fist. She did not apologise but looked away sheepishly. The other students looked at me approvingly.

            As a student I bought a monthly bus pass or ticket in the form of a card. It cost 12 dollars in those days. It could be used everyday including public holidays or weekends. Each time I boarded the bus, the conductor would check my card and punch a hole on the date. It was done again during the return trip. It was a real convenience but the fear of losing it always lingered in my mind.

Better late than never

           I spent two or rather one and a half years in Anderson School in Ipoh attending Sixth Form. It was not a long time but I had wonderful memories; studies and activities there.

            The short period provided me much experience and the opportunity to explore Ipoh; the short cuts and the different locations to famous food and shops. It was not because I wanted to taste the food but to know where the stalls were located.

            Monday mornings were miserable as many would agree with the feeling of ‘Monday morning blues’. Each Monday morning there would be the usual assembly with the same speeches, announcements and the advice biven by the principal and other teachers. Mr. Lam Kok Hon was then the principal of the school.

            For your information, I had to leave my house at 6.00 am and cycle to the bus station in Batu Gajah. Then I would have to take a bus to Ipoh.  There were two buses provided by the bus company and they were always packed like sardines in cans. The bus usually left at 6.30 am or even later. I would then reach Ipoh at 7.00 am at the earliest. Finally I had to board another bus (either one that goes to Ipoh Garden or Fair Park or even Greentown) to reach school. That would take another 20 minutes or more; if we were lucky because the buses were always packed with students and workers. So we were usually late or just in time for classes or before the first bell. The assembly was held at 7.30 so we were either just in time or late.

            It was indeed exhausting getting up at 5.30 am and arriving home again at 2.30 pm or even 3.00 pm.

            To avoid attending the assembly my friends and I stayed at the waiting area of the General Hospital in Ipoh. For your information, the hospital is opposite the school and a stone’s throw across the road.

            The friends included those from Batu Gajah and Gopeng. All of us agreed that the assembly was a waste of time. So we chose the idea to stay there until the assembly was over. There were Yee Kee Mun, Ho Chee Weng, Ng Moo Chee (all from Gopeng), Chan Yit Meng and I (from Batu Gajah).

            The other reason was that by the time we arrived at the school gate, the assembly would have started and we had to wait there until it was over to join the classes. The prefects at the gate knew that we were always late or rather just in time for the assembly. So we chose to stay away from the assembly every Monday.

CURIOSITY AND ITS EFFECT

Curiosity is an inborn or innate attitude. We are curious about things we do not have or see. We want to know about others, their belongings, actions, happenings or a simple secret.

            One such incident still lingers in my mind and the name still rings in my head. The name is Hew Mun Seong. This incident involving this name happened in Standard 2.

            We were in the afternoon session with the standard 3 and 4. only the Standard 1, 5 and 6 were in the morning. At midday, we had to line up along the wooden corridor to wait for the morning classes to vacate. Only then we entered the class with the permission of the class teacher.

            As were lining up I saw at a glimpse, the above mentioned boy acting suspiciously in front of his school bag. He was in the process of placing or concealing something. Curiosity got the better of me. It was an act of impulse or a sudden miscalculated action. I wanted to know what the mysterious object was.

            I remembered asking him to allow me to have a look at the item. He refused and tried to push me away. Another friend called him and he walked away.

            Instantly I went through the contents of his bag and retrieved a bottle. It was just a bottle. This boy was what I was doing and grabbed the bottle and he was rather furious. In the struggle he snatched it and hit me on the head with it. I was stunned and shocked.

            Everyone stopped and stared at me not because of the struggle but at something on my head. Some shouted and others kept silent probably due to the shocking scene.

            I felt something warm and it was trickling down my head. I touched my ears and noticed that my finger was red. Only then I knew that I was bleeding. I did not feel any pain but a slight sensation. Furthermore I did not panic and neither did I scream. I was speechless.

            By then the class teacher had arrived. He took me into the class and asked me to sit on a chair. In those days there was a first aid kit in every class. Mr. Perumal, my class teacher took a piece of cotton bud and pressed in on the spot or wound. He took it away and said that it was only a scar or slight cut and it was serious. If it had been serious, I would have to go to the hospital and there would be stitches.

            Anyway the bleeding stopped and he applied some yellow solution onto the cut and then a little plaster finished the job.

            After inquiring from me and my friend, he understood the cause of the incident. Bothe of us got warning so that a similar incident would not resurface. I was lectured on the importance of privacy and the need to ask for permission if I wanted to see or borrow something. If the owner refused I would have to stop pursuing the matter.

            On the other hand, Hew Mun Seong was reminded not to use physical violence or action on friends but to report to the teacher to solve the misunderstanding.

MY MATHEMATICS TEACHER IN FORM 3

His name is Mr. Wong Theam Kat. I still use ‘is’ because I still see him once in a while. He is old but still energetic and he walks with an umbrella accompanied by his daughter at the supermarket in Ipoh.

            The good natured Mr. Wong really impressed and encouraged the class and especially me. I was then in Form 3A and I think everyone like him.

            He taught us Mathematics then. He was a wonderful teacher; being patient, knowledgeable and understanding. He really knew his subject. There was never a moment when he had to refer to the book for an explanation. He had never raised his voice or scolded us. His constant reminder and advice encouraged us. We practically enjoyed every lesson with him and looked forward for the next.

            Logarithm being an unfamiliar topic was made so easy due to his clear explanation. We could use the log tables with ease. His approach was simple yet effective. Even at this moment I can still imagine him advising us to place a ruler across the table and the figures. This was to prevent us from the mistake of looking at the wrong columns and rows.

            We learned to use the compass, set squares, protractor and the ruler that are part and parcel of the tools in the Mathematics Box. With these tools we learned to draw shapes, squares, triangles, rectangles, trapeziums, cones and even pyramids. We also learned to draw parallel lines and angles.

            Mr. Wong would use the same gadgets but they were bigger and were made of wood. To use the compass, he would insert a piece of chalk at the end of the compass. With this he showed us how to draw circles, arcs, angles like 30^o, 60^o, 45^o and so on. We marveled at his expertise and learned to hold all these gadgets properly.

            I can still imagine using the set squares to draw parallel lines, a pair of compass to draw arcs, circles, arcs, angles and division of lines; and measured angles with a protractor.

           

            I am not sure if these skills are still taught in schools. I believe these skills are very useful in life. Thank you Mr. Wong.