Car-less

It happened this morning after a typical morning drive. My car was crippled. Which no fault should be blame on anyone. Nevertheless, my family was now left one car-less. My family now need to work around with only one car, to run all the errands that we usually do with two.

It occurs to me, how we a typical Malaysian family, depend so heavily in our own vehicle. Without owning yourself a vehicle, we would be would stripped of our mode of transportation. We simply could not get anywhere efficiently.

Mind I said, efficiently. We could still get to the place we wanted to go, but it would just take too much time and too much effort to do it. In Malaysia, Malaysian just would not opt for taking long term commitment into taking public transport unless if they really need to.

The messed up educational system. - part two

Warning: This would be another of my classic Long Winding piece. I appreciate you to bare with me and finished what you had started. You had been warned. hahhahahaha! Enjoy!

Continue from The messed up educational system: part one. click here to read it before you continue.

Since when was doing what we can, meant that we want it? Well, since you are in the educational system I am in. Teacher will be like: 'So Shian, you score great in this bla bla subject, you should go do this/ of become this! Because you can!' Me: 'Errrrr, so I should score bad at it to show that I do not like it? I thought scoring good result was one of my responsibility in school.' Well, being good at it does not necessary means I liked it! hahahahahhaha. Too long had our society had judge one's passion and happiness, based on how many number one you had. By how many A's you had, seems to determine how much you enjoy something. Since how long the words - This is an opportunity of a lifetime, you should be thankful you had this while others don't, tricked us into entering some sort of competition, or activities, or events, that we did not even enjoy, that we did not even happy about? And then I did well, I won titles. How I hope I do myself proud more than I just do the school proud. Proud that I have made the decision that I am happy about, proud that I truly enjoy this experience, rather than being forced to it. Knowing for titles and medals a student won, are mostly merit points for the school, something they can boast around during formal ceremonies which mostly involved personnel from other schools. The Saya Lebih Hebat (I am more superior) attitude. So what happened to that student, if he was put into that situation unwillingly? A parade of glory that was not meant to be, an effort which was not willingly put forth? Guess the school got what they want, in the expense of what the student wants.

The messed up educational system - part one

Education, had and always will be the most important value in ones life. I had a 'Wonderful' 17 years being in the supposedly self-claimed world class Malaysian educational system, if you take constantly indecisive and frog jumping policy of the ministry as a plus point. I trust many would agree if I said that our country educational system was and still is, messed up. The different stream, the forced choice, the jumping policy, different enrollment policy entering higher education and many, many more. I would more than happy to share my own experience. I wished those who plan to had kids or having kids now, to have a thought, upon going into this 'proud' system. Is not that you could not go in, but have a thought. Cause you could not expect the bull to change its attitude towards red cloth in just a few years. (I am just being cynical.)

I start off gleefully entering my first class in primary school, anxiously. (I purposely omit Kindergarten which I thought made me play more than I learn). I was being place in a partly-governmental governed Chinese based school, where Chinese language was the main medium of educating and communicating. It was a brilliant move by both of my parents on their part, as I am a Chinese descent, I should learn Chinese. I still thank them now for making that choice then, as I can now communicate in Chinese language, read some of the Chinese character, but sadly I lost my ability to write Chinese somewhere during my secondary school. I still remember the look in my mum eyes worrying if I can get through the first day in school smoothly, first day was never easy for most children and even worst for the parents. Saying they are overprotective, was an understatement. Thankfully after two weeks we would be free from our parents sights, while the teacher take a sigh of relieve too. Then it started, every students are placed in different groups (classes), obliged to study all the same sorts of subject, english, chinese, malay, morale, science, maths and a few more.

Tradition Lost in Generation?

Recalling back how I was awoken by the knock on my door. It was early. Those tired eyes slowly opening, the overcoming of that desire to get back to sleep, the strength to get myself up sitting on the bedside and the ever comforting stretch after standing. My mum was waking me up for our annual praying and offering to our ancestor. It was Winter solstice, obvious when we made a few dozen of rice pudding ball - or what we Chinese called - tang yuan - the night before.

Throughout the years, my mum had been up preparing as early as five in the morning; and a few days before. All in the name of tradition. I was always impressed at how one lady, could filled the offering table crowded with food of all sort: steamed chicken, juicy pork, fried fish, spring onion, raw vegetable, steamed cake, assortment of fruit and chinese kuih as well as rice, tea and rice wine. All for our respectful ancestor, who spirit will return home and had a feast during this festive season. This tradition of food offering had been passed on from generation to generation since obviously, a very long time ago. Hahaha.

I had since the age I was able to hold a lighter and light the joss stick up for prayers, I had been a part of this important tradition. Not that I know why am I doing it, I never been explained. I thought that was the best way - in action - to respect and honour our ancestor. After lighting up the joss stick, I will pray for all the gods and goddess asking for blessing and good health, then asking the same from my ancestor, plus inviting 'them' to return home for the feast and offerings we had prepared. Given I was the eldest grandson for my grandparents and the eldest son for my parents. The responsibility to uphold this tradition befall on my shoulders, not by choice, but by the sake of keeping the tradition alive. My mum will then toss one ornament to determine if my ancestor spirits were home. One head and one tails signified to agreement of what my mum asked for, whereas two of the same side, not agree. It was important to leave the front door open wide to let 'them' in. We then waited for 'them' to enjoy the feast, after the ornament signaled in agreement.

I am a believer in spirits of ancestors. I believe that they somehow affects our lives, in a good way, and they deserve respect. However, this belief would not even passed any form of scientific scrutiny. Since human had that need to know and understand everything, many arguments  about traditions and ceremony had been sparked off. The scholars presume that everything we do in life need to be understood and explained scientifically. Leaving us to question, why are we doing this? Or worst, giving us a reason to not do it. So long have the society want labeled everything either it was right or it was wrong, but not what we believed it was right or it was wrong.

Then it was time to burn offerings (paper models like cloths, shoe, money and more), which we believe will be received by our ancestor's spirit, that 'they' would lead a better afterlife. While we are throwing hell's note and paper clothing into the burning flame, my mum asked me. Son, would you still do this in the future? or would this would end in your generation? or perhaps your next generation? I joked by saying, this I got to ask my future wife if she would do it with me. We had a good laugh about that, and we finished off the offerings burning by pouring tea around the furnace in circle, so that 'they' will be able to claim it in the afterlife. My mum later tossed the ornament again to asked if 'they' are done with the feast. We only be able to clean the place up after a toss of agreement. After many attempt which resulted in disagreement, we got the signal that they were done. Good thing 'they' liked what we had prepared for them.

The truth is, I will do it in the future. Not because to allow the tradition or ceremony to continue, these were always be just an act. And action changes with progress of time, not necessarily improved, but changed according to one's lifestyle. Who know, joss stick would be replaced with indestructible glow stick in the future. What do not change was the love and respect we had for the passing, the joy of doing one thing together as a family, the calm and peace it brought and the belief that we are, in our own way, doing what we think was right.

During this festive season, I hope that we do have joy in all the things we do. That we never will complaint, whine or even escape from any form of tradition practiced. Do it for love, honour, respect and of cause, for  family.

Hereby wish all my readers, a very Happy Chinese New Year. May this Dragon New Year be filled with peace and joy.

Live well people
Shian

Journey to realization: The Tip Of Borneo part two

I am officially a volunteer for Tampat Do Aman under the supervision of Howard. Before my volunteer stint kicks off, I was fortunately to be allowed a one day free and easy around the area. I was given a chance to choose which ever activity that Howard's activity center offered. From bike trip, to jungle trekking as well as snorkeling. I chose the bike (Is what British call for a bicycle) trip, seeing the beautiful beaches I would visit and some lovely villages that I will go through. How would I know that? Howard had a big map made on a big spread of plywood inside the activity center, of the whole trails and the places you would visit and go through, with some not-so-prefect hand drawn picture.

Well, at least he got all the symbols consistently drawn. Toby and Emmi will be joining me. Toby was being tasked to mark the bike trail , while Emmi just being Emmi at her break time. I was anticipating some smooth easy ride down the trail when I decide to take up this trip, I even doubted Toby's decision to carry two big bottles of drinking water. But I followed suit, fearing for the worst. Then it started, just barely 50 meters from the activity center, the uphill. My movement was rusty, my leg started feeling the stress, my understanding on how those gears works are shady and I am starting to sweat. No thanks to the last time I rode a bike was 7 years back, and it was a BMX. Step by step putting my leg down the pedal, seeing how wonderfully the bicycle converts biochemical force into a force that pushes the bike forward by the seemingly perfect combination of gears, chains, cables and disc. My heart was racing fast for all the exercise I did, and I reach the top of the uphill. I felt great. Until Toby rode over the hill effortlessly, rode passed me, turn back and said: 'There are even more steeper one down the trail.' That is not encouraging at all! I thought to myself.

One uphill, then another uphill, then another, we rode through them. It was hard fought. But after any uphill, there is always a downhill. To ride through downhill, you just gonna let the earth gravity do its wonders, and  I got the small break I need to what seem would be, a long and hard ride. After that series of uphills and downhills, we reached the junction from where visitors from Kudat or KK must turn in, in order to reach the Tip of Borneo. Toby stopped to go attach the mark - plastic bottle painted sky blue inside out that we did before the trip - on one of the road sign, while me and Emmi catches some breathe. This was the first time that Emmi rode this trail too. It was a delight to know that I am not alone. Toby then explained: 'Here after was a series of very steep uphills and downhills, it will be very hard and tiring.' We just rode past a series of uphills and downhills and that was not the hard and tiring part! I thought. So we rode on, we past some village houses, everybody seems to greet us with a warm welcoming smile, guess you can't see these in the cities. It seems that working for one of the most famous people in Kudat had made Toby a celebrity in these region too. Kids cheered when he rode past and villagers greets him whenever they saw him. Maybe it was just because he was the only tall Caucasian residing around here. Well, remember about what Toby said about the hard and tiring part of the trail? It just got worst when we reached upon what seems to be a transition point from tarmac road to gravel roads with rocks of all sorts of size. Here on it would be hell!

And hell it is! In front of me stood an uphill of maybe 15 degree steep of about 200 meters. Pushing our gears to the minimum, every step I made on the pedal only move the bike a little distance, the peak of the hill never seem reachable. But in the end I did, I did reached the peak, panting heavily and gulping in a lot of liquid to keep me hydrated. Perhaps it must be miracle at work that I made it or maybe it was just me creating that miracle. No challenge is too hard of a challenge, if you put will and hard work into it. Three of us reached the peak (Emmi resolved in pushing the bike instead), we had a rest while Toby put up some mark. The next was the downhill, which was equally steep as its uphill. I thought this would be a breeze with gravity as your ally. But no, as soon as you launch yourself from the peak, because of the steepness, the bike would just go faster and faster and faster! It was one of my scariest experience, seeing myself not wearing any protective gear while zooming down the steep, my body and the bike wobbled hard, hearing the rubber wheels rubbing the gravels to the side, and all I can hear in my mind was I gonna fall! I gonna fall! I gonna fall!. But thank god I did not fell from the bike, even when I thought that I certainly would. Another miracle! While I savoured on my success of overcoming both the uphill and downhill, I was dumbfounded seeing that Toby was already on the peak of another uphill, which I need to climb next. I am eager to get to the  uphill where Toby waited for us, and asked how he did that, I wanted to be able to zoom down and up the steeps like he did. While we waited for Emmi at the peak, who still resolved in pushing the bike, Toby taught me a few tricks and skills in easily overcoming and downhill and uphill of another with ease. He explained it like a piece of cake, like I am a veteran professional biker, short and brief. Emmi met up with us, and Toby went fourth to show me how it was really done (did I said Toby was an adventure biker). He launch himself from the peak, reach maximum speed by sticking his body to the bike to achieve aerodynamic while pedaling, pedal hard when he started going uphill, and like a roller coaster, with a breeze, reaches the top of the other uphill. He signaled me to give it a try. My heart was racing hard, sweat was pouring from my forehead as I slowly pedal to the point where I suppose to launch myself to this ride of my life. My mind was resisting what I was about to do, like how any mind would do when they sense danger was ahead. I was determined to go on, despite what my mind was thinking. I shook my head from side to side, getting that thought away, and let my heart prevails, I wanted to do this. I launched myself from the peak, and my bike going faster and faster. My body responded by gripping the brakes, I know I got to let them go to reach the speed I need for the uphill. Just like throwing off a heavy weight from your shoulder, or releasing the most feared from you heart, I let go of the brakes. I arched down towards my bike, pedal hard at the highest gear, keeping my handle straight, seeing all around me zoom passed fast. The resisting wind flow around my body with a force that gripped all my fear away from me, and allowed them float to the history. I felt free, the most free I had ever felt in years. I reached where Toby are in matter of seconds. I do not believe what I just did, my breathe was no longer panting, my heart was at peace as I had left fear behind me, I was happy. Toby congratulated me for what I had did, I thanked him for teaching me. From that moment on, I never look back.

Me and Toby on the bike trail. Thanks bro!!

Me with Emmi

After some hard pedaling, we reached our first beach down the trail. The Bawang Jamal beach. It was not the prettiest beach on that trail, but it was one of the most isolated one with no village nearby. Thus you can enjoy a piece of beautiful sand and sea just by you own, with minimal disturbance. Guess this beach must be a heaven for those couples who wanted extra privacy. We went for a quick dip in the water and was on our way to our next beach, the Kulambu beach! We stopped at the junction where Toby need to fix up the mark. I am surprised when Toby asked us if we wanted to go into this beach. He explained that it was almost a seven kilometers ride down the road to the beach. Without hesitating, me and Emmi unanimously agreed to go fourth (it was only around two kilometers at most, guess Toby got a problem with distant measurement). It was a smooth ride, aside from being chased by a few dogs which are not fond of visitors. The view from the road was serene, with houses peeking through jungles of coconut trees - those kind of place you want to grow old at - the peaceful village of Bawang Jamal. I almost fell down while being totally mesmerized by this view, you should know how good the view was right. And then, I saw the beach.

The shorter side of Kulambu beach.

The longer side of Kulambu beach

The view was evenly breathtaking. Two separate beach, one stretched out long, one short, beautifully converge  in a V- shape sand bar connecting the mainland with the Kulambu island. Yes an island! I was excited when Toby told us that you can walk by foot to the island, provided it was low tide, when the sand bar was exposed. Too bad that the time being the tide was high, he suggested that we come another time for that island as there would be under current that would swept us away at high tide. Being totally immersed into my surrounding, absorbing any sights and sound, with the soft wind kissing my face. Simply standing at the point where both the beaches converged overlooking Kulambu island, where the wave from both side come slowly hugging the sand bar, I felt peace. It was one of the many peaceful moment I felt in Tip of Borneo. The Kulambu beach was one of the most visited and developed beach around Tip of Borneo aside from Kelampuan beach (the one long beach beside Tip of Borneo). The downside of that was it was much more polluted as you can see a lot of rubbish lying around. They have small huts build like the one you will see in the picture above for visitors, where we took our well deserved rest, to be physically and mentally prepared for the challenges up ahead. Where I would face them, with a smile.

Kulambu Island at the back

The point where both beaches converge, you can see wave from both sides, and Kalumbu Island at the back

After overcoming a few hills, which starting to become more and more enjoyable rather than the hell that I previously expected, we reached the junction turning into our next beach, the Lorok Kecil beach. It is the crescent beach you can see up at the map, overlooking a cove. Toby, his eighth time riding this trail, explained to us that there will be a very steep concrete road down the trail leading to Lorok Kecil beach. He warned us to be really careful, apply our brakes accordingly and choose to push down instead. I doubted his warning after being falsely informed of the distance to Kulambu beach. But he was proved right this time, after just 100 meters down the junction, stand before me, a downhill so steep they needed concrete with large traction strips for traction. I estimated it at a 25 degree drop. Toby being Toby, launch himself down without fear. Me being pumped by the confidence overcoming my fear of going downhill previously, followed suit. I race down the steep, steep downhill, applying my brakes accordingly, without fear. Until I saw a corner, fear rushed through me again, in my mind I thought that in this speed I would not make it, I will crash and hurt myself badly. But seeing Toby passed the corner effortlessly with speed, I thought. If he can do it, I must be able to! I brace myself for any crashes, prepared to protect my head if I crashed, I go for the corner. I bent down my body, slant it to the left, gripping the handle hard, pray for the best, and I did it! The momentum took me crossed some big rocks easily, and down the hill. I squeeze the brakes hard when I saw Toby doing the the same, and I came to a complete stop. The me in my head scolded me, what the hell are you thinking!?! He was an experience off road biker! You would have fallen to you death! I was just too thrilled to listen to what myself is saying. Sometimes, we need to take some crazy risk, just to feel alive. I am glad I took that risk, I felt more alive than anytime I been at that moment. While we are waiting for Emmi to come down, Toby wanted to show me one small waterfall just 30 meters into the woods, which sit in some 3 acres of land own by Howard! He had again amazed me. Unfortunately there was no waterfall as it will only appear after some heavy rainfall, there was only a one story high rock face and a pool of water, sit beside some dense jungle. Toby light up a smoke, while Emmi slowly approched, I sat down on one rock, again being in the moment. I am glad again I be able to have found peace. Next, Lorok Kecil beach! We gone through the village of Lorok Kecil, some 20 odd house nested closely in a field of grass, with smoke rising out from some houses from the the effort of preparing dinner. It was  four in the evening when we got to Lorok Kecil beach, one and a half hour after we left the activity center. Lorok Kecil was beautiful. A cove sheltered by two land mass, offering only a small peek towards the open sea, gave its beach one of the most gentle and most beautifully sounded wave. I'll let the photos speak for themselves.

Waves coming in from the small window peeking into the open sea

Sun almost setting

the coconut jungle just beside the beach

Toby and Emmi walking on some very fine sands

The water source for the villagers nearby

The gentle wave

Me being me

The friendliest dog we met on the trail 

We spent quite a long time chilling in Lorok Kecil beach, one of the beach I am very fond of. A small paradise with only us walking in it. Unlike the much developed, much polluted and famous Kulambu beach. We left Lorok Kecil with heavy hearts, It was just too beautiful to leave, but we got to get back before dark and we have one more beach to hit. I had a hard time pedaling up the steep downhill turned uphill now. I ended up pushing my bike up, which was equally hard as pedaling. After some time down the trail, we now stood in front of the mother of all downhill in that trail, it was as steep as the one leading to Lorok Kecil beach, it was longer and it also had a corner! This was the last downhill after the treacherousness hilly trail, no more major uphill and downhill after this. My rightfully stay-out-of-danger mind decide that I should push my bike down, and I did, but only for a while. Seeing Toby racing down again provoked me to do same. I got onto my bike, without fear, with all the confidence of the world, I race down the last downhill with might! I was very happy when I braked and stop safely below the hill, seeing Toby smiling at me like he was really proud of what I just did. Or maybe he was just laughing because I have only be able to do in after a while. Damn you Toby!

The last mother of all downhill, even Emmi got on her bike and go for it!

Then There it was, one of the nicest village I ever set my sights on. A large field, with three to five wooden houses clustered into one, chickens running around, with the water buffalo grass grazing, children playing, housewives chatting outside, village men just got back from work, being welcomed by their love ones and under a setting of a sunsets and coconut trees. Everything seems so peaceful, just like how I imagined a village would be.

The beautiful and peaceful village of Longgom Besar

The village of Longgom Besar and the Village of Longgom Kecil was split by this river running in the middle.

fascinating view 

We rode into the village with most of the villagers smiling and greeting us, and kids cheering on us when we rode by. Some villagers was somehow fascinated to see a tall white man suddenly appeared in their village on a bike. It was fun to watch their reaction when Toby say hello to them. We rested on the bridge connecting the two village while Toby hung up more trail mark on the bridge, after given permission by one of the villagers.

Chilling on the wooden bridge

Toby with mangrove forest behind him

The trail leading to the mangrove forest plank trail, where you rode among mangrove trees.

The mangrove forest ride was sweet but sadly a little bit too short. Somehow I did enjoyed the little escape I got by riding below the mangrove tress from the ever ferocious Sabah sun , which already left me very tan since we started the bike trip. At the end of the mangrove trail, there was a hanging bridge running across a larger river, only 3 planks in width. We had a hard time getting ourselves and our bike across the hanging bridge. The bridge was wobbly, you can't get a good foot hold, and did I mention that the bridge was occupied by a lot of villagers enjoying fishing from the bridge. There were friendly enough to let us passed by although I felt that our presence there with our bike sort of ruining any peaceful mood for fishing. I am sorry people!

On the hanging bridge with Emmi and the villagers

The view from the hanging bridge

After the slow navigation across the hanging bridge, we reached to a long stretch of beach, what Emmi called the most beautiful beach she had seen. When even the locals said it was good, you got to believe it was. Again I will let the picture do the talking.

Magnificent view

A beach that we have no name for it.

Fine sand, soothing wave, open sea and a breathtaking view, what more can you ask

The sunset on the ride back

Unfortunately we could not stayed at that beach for long, it was almost dark and we only finished half of our journey. We got to move, and move fast. The long and hard pedaling had taken its toll on my feet, toe and you guess it, my butt! Toby explained to me that I did not adjusted my seat correctly, and the fact that I am wearing flip-flop. The ride back was grueling. Aside for being thirsty, tired, and the immense pain from my butt and toes on every pedal I made, we came to see many fascinating view passing through more villages, paddy field, mangrove and coconut forest and children cheering us on. And I definitely would not forget the adrenaline rush that made all my pain faded away, making me pedal like a mad man, going as fast as possible, to run away a crazy dog who chased down anything with wheels, in this case, me. It was still a dreadful experience for me being chased by dogs, although I was never bitten before. The worst part was when Emmi and Toby laughed cheerfully while they stayed behind watching me getting chased by crazy that dog. Guess seeing me suffer really made them happy. On the way back, I felt like a kid, constantly asking 'Are we there yet?' Toby will kept saying 30 minutes more, after he said 30 minutes more 20 minutes back. You can never trust this cunning tall white man. hahahahhahaha! To save my butt from further pain, I constantly ride the bike standing up. The sad thing was, standing up will hurt my toes, whereas sitting down will hurt my butt. Thus you can know that it was pain all the way. To make matter worst, it was turning dark 

One tip for you people who want to ride in the dark, when the forest was just beside you, never, ever try to open your mouth. Or you will make the tons of insects flying around you your dinner. I heard insects are attracted to heat and light, guess all of us are all heated up after the all the heard work pedaling. The insects kept on coming even when I reach the earlier junction when we start of at. There I thought I could relieve a bit. Then I recalled of the few hill I gotta go through during the start of my journey, ohhh no. There on, I tried to mustered that little ounce of energy left in my body, and pedal on. Here on, the promise of an ice cold drink sitting down at the restaurant was all I got to make me move those tired legs on. Like what Dory in Finding Nemo had said, 'Just keep swimming, just keep swimming.' Only this time it was pedaling. Just keep pedaling, just keep pedaling. Uphill, a corner, a downhill, another corner, a downhill, an uphill and four more hill, and there it was, I had Tip Top restaurant in my sight. I conjured out my last grasp of energy, pedal down the last downhill, braking hard and parked my bike nicely into the activity center. And there it stood, the holy grail, the pandora box, the hidden treasure, the promised land, you named it. A beautiful square cabinet made out of a combination of aluminium and steel, with tempered glass door and a cooling system to make its inside forever cool, the fridge! Without hesitation, I opened it up, grab two cans of cold drink, and gulping them down my throat mercilessly. It was the best feeling in the world! I kept telling myself I am alive! I am alive! 

Thinking back of all the crazy thing I did, the fear I had overcame, and fun I had, the freedom I enjoyed so much, those speechless views and them beautiful people that I take this journey with, I never will trade anything for this experience. 

It was one of the happiest moment in my life. 

I thank you Toby, for teaching me the art of riding a mountain bike correctly, those not so encouraging words, and being the best bike trail guide in the region. 

I thank you Emmi, for just being you, and for your company.

I thank you Howard for the bike.

and last but not least. I thank you, BIKE. Thank you for carrying my fat ass across a crazy 20 kilometers bike trail. You had suffered hard.

Thank you BIKE!!!

Stay Tuned for more

Live Well people

Shian