The age of innocence

It's Friday morning and I am taking a break from my housework of washing dishes, doing laundry and ironing... so this blog will be short and light.

We went to Nadine's friend birthday party last month. The mother rented inflatable slide, gigantic jumping castle, two clowns, and an event organizer for the party. Judging from the amount of food, party packs, party props, and the decoration in the house, I was sure that she must have expected at least 50 kids.

The party supposed to be from 2-5pm. I was a bit late, arriving around 3pm, and found out that Nadine was the only friend who had arrived. Half an hour after I chatted with the host, few more kids arrived. At 4pm, the party started with 6 kids. I felt so sorry for the host... I was sure she expected more than that but sometimes things just didn't happen as expected. The fact that she didn't put any phone number for RSVP on the invitation card contributed to the inaccuracy of the guest numbers.

But despite of just having 6 kids, the party was really fun... Everybody had good laughs looking at how the kids were so innocent, answering and doing hilarious things the clown asked them to do:

The clown started the party by asking the kids their names and where they came from. The first kid reply, "My name is Adam and I come from my mommy's tummy." We just burst... The clown didn't give up...

He asked the boy,"Adam, where do you live?".

Then Adam answered, " I live in a house."

"Where is your house?" added the clown.

Adam replied, "Next to my grandma's house."

The clown gave up....

Then the clown asked the kids to line up, put on some fancy shawls on their shoulders and asked them to do the catwalk. All 6 kids, boys and girls, bent on their knees, started crawling and do "meow meow..." LOL.... The clown really unexpected this... We had a good laugh...!

Then time for games.  The clown asked the kids to give him 50 cents. The fastest kid who can give him 50 cents would get a present. One kid quickly put his hand inside his trouser and gave RM1 to the clown.  The clown told the kid, " I wanted 50 cents NOT 1 Ringgit."  The kid said, " Yes, you can give me back 50 cents."

That kid must be a math wizard... He outsmarted the clown.

Here's what I learnt from the party:

1. To always put RSVP number on the invitation card.

2. Kids are really amazing, they can turn simple things into laughters.  Sometimes we don't really need fancy bouncing castle, inflatable slides or other props to have fun.  People are the ones who make a party fun.. not the hardware.

3.  To try my best to attend every invitation I get.... It's such a sad thing when your guests do not turn up on your party.  Sometimes we get a bit carried away... We expect people to come to our party but when we are invited, sometimes we skipped the invitation... I am guilty of this.. I promise to try harder, to make time attending invitations wherever it is.

Thank you for reading my blog and have a great weekend....:)

Spread the eggs...

I heard and said it a hundred times and I had probably applied it more than ten times : Don't put all your eggs in one basket.

In terms of investment, I did it. I spread the little wealth I have in cash, stocks, and property. In terms of love, I spread the abundant love I have to my family, my relatives, my friends, my neighbors, and some deserving strangers. In terms of food choices, it's definitely widely spread. Imagine if I put all my passion only in Asian food.... I won't enjoy traveling anywhere outside my comfort zone.

But after so much said and done... sometimes I still forget to keep doing it in every aspect of my life.

Last weekend my family spent a nice 5-day holiday in Bangkok with my in-laws. We went to the amazing Safari world, shopped at the malls, had relaxing massages, and dined scrumptious seafood and Thai food. But the much anticipated trip was going to Jatujak market or JJ market as the locals call it. It only opens on weekends and has everything under the sun, from funky clothes, furniture, bags, perfumes, plates, cutleries, food, to pets... Yes, it has traders selling cute puppies and kittens. All sold at very reasonable prices.

While my husband took care of the kids at the hotel swimming pool, my in-laws and I braved the heat and Bangkok traffic jam to go to JJ market. We shopped like mad women let loose from the mental institution for the first time, ignoring breakfast and lunch, hopping from one shop to another . We just had some snacks in between our shopping spree. After more than 6 hours melting under the heat of zinc roofs, finally we called for a break... We decided to have a few minutes before going to the household section.

To us, break means finding a bench to sit down and check on our handphones. To my relief, I got no SMS and no missed call, meaning my kids were alright and my husband did an excellent job entertaining them.

When my sister-in-law checked her handphone, she noticed that her bag had a big hole. Someone had slashed her bag and took her wallet. She had all her money there plus credit cards, ATM cards, ID card and driving license. We made a police report and apparently it happens all the time there, just like in any other tourist spots anywhere in the world.

At that time, we were reminded again not to put everything in one basket. My mother-in-law and I started to rearrange things inside our bags. I spread my cash and credit cards, I put some in the handbag, some in my jeans pocket , and some in the shopping bags. We were so paranoid that we did some silly stuffs by putting our cash in the candy canister and inside the pocket of the our newly-purchased clothes. Luckily we didn't put it under our bras, like the old indonesian women used to do. Can't imagine the face of the shopkeeper when we took the money from the bra..... LOL

But on the second thought, maybe I should.... Who knows the shopkeeper will give away d goods for free in exchange of the yucky sweat-drench money from the bra..

Anybody dare to try...?

Old Kebaya

My mother had always bought new clothes for Chinese New Year when I was young.  She said it's a MUST to wear something new for Chinese New Year.  During that time nobody wore cheong sam (Chinese traditional dress) for Chinese New Year in Indonesia.  The previous government banned everything chinese in the country so our CNY celebration was only at home, having family lunches wearing new dress or pants or even new jeans while waiting for ang pao (red pocket money). After CNY, we would wear our "new CNY clothes" like any other normal clothings.

My mother-in-law also has the tradition of buying new clothes for Hari Raya Idul Fitri.  She usually takes her grandchildren for shopping spree weeks before Hari Raya.  I started going to my tailor months before Hari Raya.  It's a custom in Malaysia to wear traditional clothes during Hari Raya. While men wear Baju Melayu, women can wear either Kebaya or Baju Kurung. 

This is the typical Baju Melayu worn by Malaysian men

 Baju Kurung

The Kebaya

I like to wear Kebaya instead of Baju Kurung because I always had my baju kurung loose-long sleeves accidently dipped into curry gravy or rendang.  I still haven't mastered the art of wearing baju kurung without dirtying its sleeves or skirt. 

Malaysians celebrate Hari Raya Idul Fitri for one whole month.  We will have a full month of "open houses" where friends and relatives visit each other's houses for breakfast, lunch or dinner.  Companies will book hotel ballrooms to host open houses for their employees and clients.  Because of this, I have to have at least 3 or 4 Kebaya on standby. 

So, every year I would ask my tailor to make 3-4 Kebayas. 

Unlike normal clothes that I wear during Chinese New Year, after Hari Raya celebration is over, I hardly wear my Kebaya anymore.  I am a jeans-and-t-shirt kinda girl so the only time I wear my Kebaya is when I have to go for weddings, which at this age, I seldom get any wedding invitation anymore.  Most of our friends are married (or decided not to get married) and it's too early to get invitation for friend's children's wedding.

After 8 years of Hari Raya in Kuala Lumpur, I was stuck with a lot of kebayas that I rarely use.  I don't want to throw them away because I still need them once in a while.  The Kebayas occupy too much space in my small closet. 

Since I couldn't make my closet bigger and I couldn't throw the kebayas, I told myself not to buy or make new kebayas for Hari Raya.  If I have to buy, maybe buy only 1 piece, just to participate in the festive mood and to contribute to the economy cycle. I decided to just reuse the old kebayas (which I wore max 3 times each).

Initially I was a bit uncomfortable wearing previous years' kebaya.  But I think my decision was well justified.  Let me tell you the reasons:

1. NOBODY noticed that I wore the kebaya that I had worn 4-8 years ago.  Kebaya has the classic and everlasting style so there is no "out-of season" kebaya.

2. I save the space in my closet.

3. I don't need to waste time going back and forth to the tailor to make the kebayas.  I have to go to the mall, stuck in traffic jam, find parking, and buy the fabrics.  Then go to the tailor, stuck again in the jam, find parking again, have the tailor measure my ever-changing body size.  After 2 weeks, I have to go back again to the tailor for fitting, another round of driving and parking.  Then after another week, I have to pick up the kebayas... again... another round of traffic jam and parking hassle.   Imagine how many hours I used to spend for that. I got tired just reading this no 3 reason..!

4. I save some money.  Tailor-made kebaya is much more expensive than the ready-made but since I don't have an ideal model body, I could never find any ready-made kebaya that fit me.

5. I can contribute a little bit to the environment by polluting less (eliminate the CO2 emission from my driving back and forth in the attempt of getting the new kebayas) and reducing the waste from clothes  (Reuse, Reduce and Recycle)

6. It makes me feel super good... coz I can still fit into my old kebaya...! Either I had a great tailor who could make my kebaya fit my enlarged body or my enlarged body is actually not that large..:)

7. It motivates me to keep my body size in check. 

So... the secret is out.... I am wearing my old recycle kebayas for Hari Raya. 

We are not normal

I was always confused on who I was when I was a little girl.  In fact, I believe most of Indonesian Chinese were, growing up in a place where they felt like they were second class citizens all the time.  Our homes were never homes to us.  Our ancestors were immigrants who came to Indonesia to seek better living.

I never thought that I really belong to "one particular group".

In Indonesia, the country I love dearly, the place I was born and grew up... I am not really considered the true blue Indonesian.  I am a "tionghoa", a term Indonesians use to call Indonesian Chinese. Indonesian Chinese is never considered as one of the ethnic groups.  I am not a "pribumi" (a term for the real Indonesian).

If I were to go to China and live there... The Chinese will also never consider me as one of them.  For them, I am "Ing Nie Hua Chiao" which is a term for Chinese who are not originally from China, but from Indonesia.  The fact that I don't speak Mandarin (or any other dialects) and I don't eat monkey brain even confirm that I can't be the real Chinese.

So, I really don't belong in either country.  I never feel that I have equal rights with the "real citizens" of any country.

Fortunately someone invented the word "globalization" which made me feel that I am a real true blue citizen.. Not of a particular country, but as the citizen of the earth.

But how can I explain this globalization to my daughters?  When Amber, my eldest daughter was 4 years old, she had already felt that she was different, she didn't belong to any particulart group. 

One day, coming back from school, she looked so sad and asked me,"Mommy, what am I?"

I was taken back.. At that time I really didn't know what to answer. It came as a total surprise to have a 4-year old ask me that question.

She said that in school, her friends told her that she was not a Malay because she had Chinese mother.  But her Chinese friends also told her that she was not Chinese because her father is Malay and she is a Muslim.  Poor little girl.... at such a young age, she had to choose to be in a group where she would always be different from the rest of the group members.

I told her that she is not really Malay and not really Chinese, she is just special.  A 4-year old didn't really understand what special was... She said,"I don't want to be special, I just want to be normal"

My heart ached when she said that.  That's exactly the feeling that I had always wanted to feel... To be normal.

Since I can't afford to send my daughters to international schools, the least I can do for them is to expose them to kids from mixed race marriages.  I am sure some kids with parents of different races also feel the same way as my daughters. I remember one day, Amber and Nadine told me two of their friends were exactly like them, they have Chinese mothers and Malay fathers.  They were so happy at that time, finding out that they are not that "weird".

I have accepted the fact that I can't never be a normal citizen.. I learn to embrace the fact that I am special.

I hope my daughters will soon feel the same way.  In today's world, normal is boring.... Everybody wants to be special... I hope they will realize it soon.

A month of "real housewife of KL"

My maid, Inem,is going back to her hometown this Monday. She will be spending her Hari Raya holiday with her family at Central Java for 1 whole month.

She has been with our family since my eldest daughter was 1 month old. Prior to that she worked for my mother in Bandung for 8 years. So practically she's been with us for 16 years plus..! How time flies...

I am very fortunate to have her helping me coping with my houseworks and my children's well beings. Every 2 years she would go back to her hometown for 1 month. In between, she also went back with me to Bandung during holidays. From Bandung she would take 11 hour bus trip to her hometown for a week or so.

No matter how often I was left without her, the feeling is still the same... I am totally loss without her..!!

By western standard, I am super spoiled... but by Indonesian standard, I am a bit deprived of "maids" as most of Indonesian households have 2-3 maids.

A lot of my friends thought my Inem must be super smart, hard working and efficient, so good as she is close to be a Supermaid.

Well, let me tell you something... She is NOT.

Same thing with her friends, who are also working as maids for my neighbours, they think that Inem is so lucky to have a perfect employer.

Well, she will tell you the same thing... I am NOT.

We have our differences...

She forgot a lot of things, she had her bad mood days (which made her accidently shouted at me), she turned some of my white clothes pink, she burnt my trousers, she broke a lot of glasses and bowls, she spoiled my cheeses by leaving them in the cupboard instead of fridge, etc etc..

I got irritated, I was forgetful, I didn't tell her proper directions to do things, I made her upset, I made her work beyond her working hours when I invited people having dinners at my house, I woke her up 2am when my babies threw up, etc etc..

But somehow, we understand each other... Although sometimes we made each other upset.. We both know that inside, we do care for each other. 

We understand that we both are not perfect.. we have our flaws and we accept them.

So, this writing is my tribute to Inem, who will never read this blog.  Because even before she is gone, I have already missed her... The thought of doing piles of laundry, ironing (i really hate ironing), washing dishes, gardening, vacuuming, mopping, etc.., have been haunting me for the past 1 week..

So, for the next one month : my kitchen will be closed, my house will be messy, my mood will be unpredictable and my insanity will be tested.

Let's see what kind of craps I will write in my next blog...

Have a happy weekend...!

Never say never

I thought I could never do it

I tried all kinds of slimming programs, from Atkins diet, liquid diet, juice diet, food combining diet, southbeach diet, etc etc.. All worked for awhile and I would definitely come back to my eating spree.  I just couldn't do those diet for more than two weeks, some even for a few days..

So when I had to fast for the first time.. I knew I could never do it, I knew I would never last more than a week, and I knew I would give up.  I was terrified when fasting month was coming...

My muslim friends and relatives told me to recite the "niat" or "purpose" before I started fasting.  They said it helped a lot.. I didnt believe them but since it's a requirement, I did it anyway.  I recited my "niat" the night before the fasting month.

First day : morning was not so bad coz I was not a breakfast person.  I skipped breakfast most of the time.  But when the time hit 12.30 the hunger started to kick in.  I tried to ignore it and surprisingly after half an hour the hunger dissappeared.  Then thirst and headache came around 4pm.  But since I was working and needed to finish up few things on that day, I didn't have time to entertain them.  By the time I needed to leave the office at 5.30, time went so fast.  I had to rush driving home and buying food.  In no time at all I heard the adzan, the call for prayer.. the time to break the fast.

First thing I did was drinking a glass of cold water.  It was the best tasting water I had ever tasted.  I was amazed on how little I ate that day despite of not having breakfast and lunch.  I broke my fast with 2 dates, popiah, porridge and a piece of kuih.  I was stuffed. 

The third and fourth days were the hardest.  I guess the sugar reserve in my body dropped significantly.  I was super tired. The hunger and thirst started knocking on my brain since 10 am.  But again, since I was busy at the office, I didn't really have anytime to entertain them.

After the first week, everything was a breeze... In no time, I completed my first whole month of fasting.

For some people fasting teach them to be patient, to resist temptation, to feel how it is being poor without enough food and drink, to count the blessing, etc.

For me, my first fasting has taught me about perseverence.. about not giving up... about doing things that I never thought I would be able to do.

I guess what people say is true : when you keep your mind on something, you can do it.  I never really believed in it until that first month of fasting.

Selamat berpuasa to my muslim friends...

For my friends of other religions : it is true that if you don't give up easily, you can do whatever it is that you set your mind into, even losing weight of 70 kg... Just look at the Biggest Loser on TV.. really inspiring. Although I had to admit, my determination on losing weight is probably in the state of crumbling.

No Visitor Please...

I had a surgery to remove tumours in my ovary 3 weeks ago. 

When my doctor told me that I needed to get a surgery, I only told my husband.  Nobody else.  A few days before the surgery, I had to tell my mother-in-law so that she could help me taking care of my daughters while I was hospitalized  I didn't even think about telling anybody else until my husband asked me, "Did you tell your mother?"

I told him I didn't want to tell her coz I don't want her to be worried.  But my husband insisted I had to tell her.  So at the end, I told her and my sisters.  My mom booked a flight ticket right away, came a day before surgery and stayed with me for one week. I was glad I told her.  Just having her beside me making me felt better.

When I had bad news like this, my immediate response was not to tell anyone.  It's a habit that I have been keeping for years. 

I don't like people to know that I will be hospitalized. Why? Coz I don't like visitors when I am sick.

Strange? Maybe...

But I find it even stranger that some of my friends were quite offended when they found out that I was hospitalized and I didn't tell them.  And I was like.... why..??? 

It's stressful enough to know that something is growing inside my ovary but it's another thing to have to call twenty over friends and relatives to tell them about this.  Calling them means having to say the same things over and over again.  Explaining how I discovered it, when the doctor would perform the surgery, which hospital I would do the surgery, how the surgery would be done, etc, etc....

At that time, I just wanted to get rid of those tumours from my body ASAP.  I had no mood to talk, no mood to please anybody and certainly no mood to accept visitors.

But people just can't understand....

Let me explain why visitors are not welcomed when I am hospitalized :

1.  After a surgery, the anesthetic effect would make me look like a zombie, feel like I had just guzzled one bottle of Tequila, and behave like a vain woman who just had her favourite handbag stolen.

2. During the recovery, I had to dress in a hospital gown with no zip, no button and wide opening at the back which exposed the viewers to a sore body of "mature woman".

3. Since I couldn't take a bath for the first 3 days after surgery, I sure was smell funny (funnily disgusting, I mean...). I don't want to expose visitors to hazardous body odour mixed with alcohol swab smell and hospital chlorine. Let the odour be my secret... nobody needs to know...

4. To add to that horrible sight and smell, I would lose all my dignity when I had to meet people with dirty oily hairs.  I have to wash my hairs everyday.  Failure to do so will result in my scalp producing oil that can pollute the whole head like BP petrol polluted the Mexican gulf.

5. Again.. the thought of having to say the same thing over and over again... How was the surgery, whether I was in pain (of course I was...!! what a question..!), how was the tumour (fine, of course, happy to get out from the fat woman body), when would I be discharge, etc.etc.etc.... I just didn't have the mood to do this.

6. I couldn't sneeze or cough coz it would be very painful.  Some visitors might have some flu or cough and pass it to me. At that point, I didn't want any of those.. Sorry, no gift accepted.

7. Visitors usually feel "obligated" to come and visit, to avoid being labelled "not caring".  I totally understand how busy life is in KL.  Most people work from morning til 7pm.  They have to beat the traffic jam, cook, spend time with the children. Going to hospital is not a fun thing to do. 

8. I attract Multilevel Marketing (MML) people.  Wherever I go, I had always been approached by them, from tens different companies, each believing their products are the best.  During this time, despite of my body odour and horrific look, I became more attractive to them.  They would come with all kinds of vitamins and supplements, trying to convince me that I would be healthy and rich if I become one of the members.  I was in pain.... in a very bad mood ..... so when MML people come, visit and try to convert me, the words coming out from my mouth were definitely not the ones anybody wanted to hear. I don't want to offend anyone but I just can't handle this.

So, let us all spare all this nonsense...

By not visiting me : I m happy to keep my "horrible look and smell" a secret.  My friends and relatives are also not burdened for having to brave the KL/PJ traffic jam, scheduling time to visit, finding parking spot to buy some fruits or flowers, getting stopped by the hospital security for bringing durian to the hospital (my favourite fruit is durian), etc., etc.

Now... Since I don't want to repeat the same questions again and again... I want to tell you  how I discovered the tumour:  I missed my period for two months.  I thought I was pregnant... When the doctor checked... Nope, no baby in the tummy... just two cute tumours, happily growing 1 cm a week.  Thank God the tumours were benign.  I was hospitalized for 3 days in Assunta Hospital, PJ where the nurses and staffs were very helpful and friendly. Surgery was done by laparoscopy.  Total recovery time : 3 weeks.

Last note to woman readers : Please have routine check ups of Pap Smear, USG, Blood Test, and Mammogram.  If you experience something irregular, don't take it lightly... Just have a check with your gynea..

Mommy dearest...

I grew up in a typical Chinese family who never really expresses feelings of love.  I don't remember my parents ever hugged or kissed me and my siblings when we were young.

My parents seldom praised us for our achievements.  When I managed to do well at primary school (ranking 3rd for the whole batch), I didn't get any compliment.  They just thought that it was a normal thing to do.  In fact, they asked how come I didn't get the 1st place?

While they didn't give compliments, they were very generous in criticisms.  They often compared us with their friends' children who did better from us; having better grades, better jobs, better spouses, better houses, etc.

Studying in US had changed how I behaved. I was more expressive in my feelings.  I hugged and kissed (cheeks only, of course) when meeting friends. I became a "warmer person".  Hugging and kissing were part of my daily things to do.

When I went back to Bandung for holiday, I automatically hugged and kissed my parents .  They were so surprised and taken back.  It was such an awkward moment. They didn't know what to do, just frozen until I let them go.  At that time I forgot that my family were not used to physical closeness.

During that holiday, I told my mom about my study hoping that she would be pleased to know that I managed to get good grades.  Although I knew that I wouldn't get any compliment, I just wanted to show her that the money she spent on me was not wasted. Right after I finished my chatterings, she told me that her friend's daughter graduated summa cum laude in Accountancy in just 3.5 years from a better university that I was enrolled in.

I was heartbroken and cried.  My mother was surprised.  She didn't know what she did wrong. She didn't know why I suddenly cried.

At that time, I told her everything I didn't like about her.  I said a lot of things that hurt her.  I asked her what should I do to make her proud of me, to make her love me.

She was shocked and confused.  She never thought that I would think she was not proud of me.  She told me I was insane for thinking that she didn't love me. If she hadn't love me, she wouldn't work that hard to send me to US for college, she wouldn't let me explore the world but kept me beside her so that she wouldn't have to bear the pain of missing and worrying about me.  If she hadn't been proud of me, she wouldn't tell her friends about how well I did in college, she wouldn't ask her friends' children to ask me for advice to study in US, she wouldn't even ask me to cook for her friends.

I told her how could I know that she loved and be proud of me if she never gave me compliments and always criticized me.  She said, she didn't praise me because she wanted me to be humble, not a snob.  She always criticized me so that I would be motivated to do better and not to be content with what I achieved at that time.

It was my turn to be surprised.... a pleasant surprise to know that she was actually proud of me and all of my siblings.  We had a long talk.  After hours of talking, I understood her better.  She did what she had done totally because she loved her children.  She loved her children too much that she didn't care what we thought about her, as long as we could grow up to be decent human beings. 

When I heard about the outrage in US when Amy Chua released her book "Tiger Mom", the picture of my mom popped into my mind.  Although my mom was not as strict as Amy Chua but they do have some similarities in raising their children. Although their hearts are full of love, both of them appear to be cold and heartless.  For American who believes in motivating children by praising them, the book was very difficult to digest. 

Overly praising the children will lead to dilussional adults.  Just look at the American Idol auditions.  Millions of them really believe they are good singers because their parents always praise them although their voices can break the thickest glass windows. 

I know a friend who thought that he was the most handsome and attractive guy around despite his big round belly, short legs, miniscule IQ and bad manners.  He said his mother always told him that she was very proud to have a very handsome and smart son. I should have been honest and bought him a mirror and a GQ magazine..... but unfortunately I was not a "Tiger Woman".

But if I look at my family case, overly criticizing someone will also make the person lose his/her self-confidence and feel unloved.  If I hadn't had that conversation with my mom, I wouldn't find out how she felt about her children.  I told my siblings about that conversation and they were surprised too.  Slowly we began to understand why she did what she did... We do know that she loves her children very much but sometimes she doesn't know how to express her love.  She is now learning to express more of her feelings.  She hugs back when we hug her... She is also used to have us kissing her. 

My mom had never really been a Tiger Mom like Amy Chua but overtime she has definitely turned into a Teddy Bear Mom.

As for me..... Both of my daughters think that I am a bossy mom... Well, I am happy to know that they still think that I am the BOSS not a Tiger.

Father's Day

Growing up in Indonesia, I've never used to celebrate Father's Day.  I started to know about this special day 10 years ago in Malaysia after reading it in the newspaper.  Restaurants charge exorbitant prices for brunches or lunches on Father's day as if the more expensive the prices are, the more love customers show their fathers.

Until now, we don't really celebrate Father's Day.  I remember 6 or 7 years ago, we wanted to bring my father-in-law for lunch on Father's Day.  He simply declined and said it's unnecessary... Since we went out for lunch or brunch together quiet often, why did we have to pay more expensive lunch or brunch just because it's a "special day"?  He said he knew his children loved him and he didn't need fancy lunches or brunches to confirm it. 

The same goes with my husband and I... You can call us unromantic or stingy, but we are just being practical.  We don't go out for lunches or diners on Valentine's Day, Father's Day or any other day that give restaurants, hotels, and florists the rights to jack up the prices. Why do we have to stress ourselves by fighting for parking space, going into a crowded restaurant, eating the same food with twice the price if we can do it a day earlier (or after) with a more pleasant experience?

But of course, it will be a different case for families whose children grown up, have their own families and live far from them.  They seldom have lunches or dinners together.  This Father's Day will be a perfect excuse to get together and catch up with each other.

Just a few days ago, my husband said that a successful parent is measured by his/her ability to raise the children to be independent, able to make their own decisions wisely, able to differentiate bad from good (and do the good), and (since we are a Muslim family) able to follow the Allah's teachings in their lives. 

He also added that sometimes parents measure their success by the "obedient level" of the children.  He is totally against it because he said sometimes being obedient is not good.  Children need to learn to think critically, not to accept everything at face value, to argue, to find the truths, to make their own mistakes and to live their own lives happily.  It's very selfish to expect our children obeying us all the time.

I agree with him... Although it's difficult.... Sometimes I want my girls to be obedient.  But again, so many times I had been proven wrong by them.  I may know a lot of things but there are things that they know better than me.  It's really a two-way learning experience for both of us.

What he said reminded me of a line in one of Sting's song : If you love someone, set her free.  We all know that the best thing in life is Free.

My children are very lucky to have him as their father.  Happy Father's Day...

Passionate Tukang Becak vs Smelly Rude Waiters

My husband took me and the kids for a short weekend gateaway to Melaka.  While we've been to Melaka several times, my kids were still amused by the colourful becaks (rickshaw) covered with plastic flowers.  So everytime we were there, we always had to have a becak ride.

Despite the hot sun and humid warm weather, our becak peddler kept on smiling and talking non-stop about the history of Melaka.  I was a bit embarrased for my shallow knowledge in history.  He told us how the Portuguese came to Melaka, how the Chinese influenced the culture in Melaka and how the Dutch tried to eliminate Catholics and convert the Melakan to be Protestans.  The only thing he missed was where the best Assam Pedas warung was located... (Assam Pedas is Melaka's signature dish of spicy and sourish fish stew)

He was so knowledgable that he made me forgot that he was "just a becak peddler" not a personal tour guide.  I was almost dissappointed when my ride ended.  I felt like staying in the becak longer and hearing him telling more stories. He made history sound very interesting, much more interesting than my high school history teacher who made me memorize a lot of "historical" things that I forgot after the test.

My heart always warm up when I meet such person... A person who is passionate about his/her job, whatever his/her job is, be it a teacher, a clerk, a receptionist, a doctor, a waiter, a banker, etc.  You can tell a lot from the service he/she provides the customers whether or not he/she has pride on his/her job. 

Not being able to afford fine dining all the time, a lot of times I had to settle for ridiculously bad services in smaller restaurants or warong.  I really hate waiters who are rude, have strong body odours, and think that we need them more than they need us. In KL, those type of waiters are abundant.  And to make it worse... they speak neither English or Bahasa Malaysia.  I wonder what the employers think on hiring people who can't speak the spoken language in Malaysia, let alone put them in charge of servicing customers.

I wonder if it's because customers in KL don't really care about the service?  I read an article about this very delicious char kwey teow in Penang whose owner, chef and server are super rude.  Yet, people line up everyday to buy the kuey teow.  As for me, no matter how good the food is and how much I love food, I just don't have any respect for business owners who are rude to their customers. I will choose to spend my money somewhere else.

I am not fussy about food or service... I don't mind waiters or shopkeepers who don't say hello or thank you, but I think a pleasant face is essential when serving customer.  I meet a lot of grumpy, unsmiling and irritated waiters/bank tellers/shop keepers almost everyday. 

When I feel nice and in cheerful mode, usually I tell them that the secret of being beautiful and healthy is by getting rid of that grumpy look they have in their faces. But a lot of times, I just couldn't be bothered to tell them anything.  But I always try to give compliments and/or tips to those who smile and/or give good services.  I hope the compliments and tips will encourage them to keep on doing the good jobs.

Obedient Wife Club..???

For those who are not in Malaysia, be ready to have a shock of your life : Malaysia has (trust me, it really has) Obedient Wife Club.
Last week in the newspaper, the members of Obedient Wife Club said that the cause of men infidelity is disobedient wife.  Another shock....?

I had an interesting discussion with few friends over lunch about this issue. We thought that the club must be invented by men to bully women.  But then the husband of my friend came and said this club was ridiculous.. he even said the word "obedient" was more suitable for pets, trained dogs, or circus animals.

I think whoever invented this club is a genius. 

He/she is actually able to gather a lot of members to really believe that infidelity is caused by disobedient wife. But I can't say the same to the members though... I really feel sad that there are some crazy women who actually join the club, become members and really believe in it.

Why do women get the blames when men cheat? Or even worse... women get blamed for being raped..!!

I read somewhere that women get raped because the way they dress.  They don't cover enough. Come on... you can go to Europe during summer and see women, young, old, slim, fat, pretty and ugly in swimming suits or bikinis.  Do they get raped? Or go to Japan in summer where women wear light and minimal clothings.  Do they get raped?  In fact Japan has one of the lowest crime/rape rate in the world.

Here in Malaysia women dress pretty much covered, yet the rape rate is high and crime rate is rising like a meteor.

When my friend went for Umroh, she had a very shocking experience.  She usually covered everything when she was there.  But there was one time that she had to go to the toilet badly.  The toilet in her room was occupied... Since the nature call was urgent, she just put on her scarf and went to the toilet at the hotel lobby.  When she put on her scarf, her head was covered but not that tight. A small part of skin around her neck was "revealed".  She then walked pass a group of men in the lobby.  Then there was this guy who stared at her and was lusting for her "open neck".  His eyes looked like he was ready to attack and rape her..!! He extended his hand to try to touch her skin..!! Can you imagine that...??  She ran for her life..., forgot all about the need to go to the toilet.  Luckily nature was very kind to her, she didn't wet the floor...

When she told me the story she said, "Well, I am fat and old... the incident was horrible but honestly a bit of me was flattered.  A man was actually aroused just by looking at my wrinkled skin." 

I was like....?????? Helloooo.... if he was aroused by this dear friend of mine, I can't imagine how he'd behave if he saw me in my t-shirt and jeans, or worse... ask him to go to the beach in Nice during summer, i think he'll just pass out there and we'll have a nice laugh over ice cold Orangina. 

A rapist will rape no matter what clothes his victim wears.

A man/woman will cheat when he/she wants to cheat, no matter that the partner does. 

But of course, a relationship needs both sides to be faithful.  It's so easy to blame infidelity to the other partner's action. So often I heard cheating partner said, I cheated because my partner is not understanding, my partner doesn't take care of me, my partner doesn't give me satisfaction, my partner is not pretty, etc etc. Maybe it's true... he/she cheats because he/she is not happy with his/her partner.  Obviously the relationship is having some problems.

But is cheating really the answer?  I think cheating adds to the problems. Instead of having 10 problems, cheating will multiply the existing problems by 10. 

I am not a marriage councillor nor a wise wife... but I am waiting for another genius to form an "Obedient Husband Club."  Anyone...??? Please keep me posted...