October updates

October is coming to an end and very quickly, soon, it will be November and December and another year will be gone. This last quarter of 2013 will fly by very swiftly I foresee with all the things that we have to attend to, the activities and all.

C's year-end school exam just ended. As usual, she was cool about it. No revision, despite my frequent prodding. She continued with life as usual, and even made some bread and jelly by herself. She is teaching me to see things in a different way.

During my time, as I was growing up, my generation was taught that we need to study very hard, get into university, get a good job and you're set for life. Sounds like a straight rigid path to follow, knowing what I know now. I wish I had strayed from the path once in a while to find some lovely garden in the midst of the jungle and played there for awhile figuratively speaking. Maybe I could have discovered my true passion that way.

The weekend before her exams, we spent one day exploring Batu Caves and the adjacent Dark Cave. We climbed up the 272 steps of Batu Caves so that she could see what a Hindu temple in a cave is like, the various gods the Hindus worship. On the way down, we visited the Dark Cave, a conservation site. We took the Educational Tour and learned many things about how caves form, the various limestone structures and characteristics of a cave, the unique ecosystem of a cave, and some endangered species that can be found there -- much more interesting than staying at home and memorising the formula of the area of a triangle, I must admit.

 The world's tallest golden statue of Murugan at the base of the stairs.

 

The entrance of Batu Cave at the top of the stairs.

We didn't spot this spider but we spotted cave snails, other spiders, bats and cockroaches.

See here to learn more about Dark Cave.

So here's my take thus far on education, parenting and life. Note that it's MY take and I don't expect anyone to agree with me. I am writing this down to remind myself because I came from a different generation who sees things differently:

1. Every child is unique, so it's useless comparing mine with others.
2. Childhood is to be enjoyed, like I did mine.
3. Children (and adults) learn better and more when it's fun and interesting.
4.The bottomline is that the child must be happy wherever he is and in whatever he is doing.
5. It is important to do well in school (and I don't mean academically only), but it is not the most important thing in a child's life.
6. Exams are over-rated. It's just a way to measure how much one has learned and understood.
7. It is ok to fail an exam, as long as the child tried and did his best.
8. It is good to go to university but it is not a must.
9. Good character and values are more valuable than a string of A's, a high-salaried job or social status.
10. Life is not a race. It is not necessary for a child to read independently at two years of age, or enter university at 12.
11. Not knowing why one is learning, being forced to learn, rote learning, not relating and applying what one has learnt with real life is pointless.
12. It is good to expose a child to many experiences and activities, but only pursue the activity further if the child is interested. This does not mean the child can be allowed to give up an activity he was initially interested in immediately when the going gets too tough.
13. Thinking independently, speaking confidently, arguing rationally, problem solving creatively are good skills to develop.
14. Children grow up very quickly. There are some things I can only do with them when they are young, like teach them personal discipline, self-control, responsibility, love for family and God, i.e. there are many tricks which I can't teach to old dogs.

That's all I can think of for now.

This week, we will be celebrating C's 11th birthday. She is busy at school rehearsing a dance for their year-end concert, she has an outdoor nature camp to attend during the Deepavali long weekend, a drum exam to take the very next day after camp, a school field trip to a batik workshop, and finally, the year-end concert before school closes in mid-November.

I hope I will be able to quote Robert Frost later in life:

“I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I–
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.”
~ Robert Frost, The Road Not Taken

Thoughts about teachers

Yesterday, I read this article (please read it if you haven't, for a better background to my thoughts here) written by a young lady who decided to join the Teach For Malaysia programme.  There were comments by other readers who complimented her effort, saying there should be more teachers like her. She took the initiative and trouble. She did not just teach, she educated the children.

The first thought that came to my mind was "it should have been the parents, they should have taught their children, they should have educated them that there are people of other races besides their own, of different faiths, and race is not tied to religion". But I told myself that not all parents know or are aware of this need, not all parents can be there for their children, some parents don't know it themselves as they too grew up that way, not all children have parents. Not all children are so blessed like C to have me sacrifice my progressing career to have a stay-home mother who tries her best to educate her child, not only in academic stuff but in being a well-rounded, upright human being (ah yes, I am still dealing with this sacrifice issue after more than eight years. Maybe I need therapy for this, among other issues, but that's a story for another day).

And therefore, it is good that we have teachers like Cheryl Ann Fernando. Teachers have a great impact on their students. Children who go to regular school (who has heard of homeschooling? ;-) ) spend five to six hours a day with their teachers. Children whose parents work spend maybe an hour or two with their parents. Some get to only say 'good morning' and 'good night' to their parents. Yes, teachers can help, but it is up to them whether they choose to stick to teaching English, Math or whatever they teach, or to go the extra mile to educate them about things and people and values and share some of life's nuggets with them. Teachers can build, or break. Children look up to their teachers who impact their lives positively. There are stories of people attributing their success in life to a particular teacher.They also could go down a wrong path if a teacher, unfortunately, impacted them negatively.

I say this based on the examples drawn from my own life as a child during my schooldays, and as a mother sharing her daughter's life as a student now. When I was in school, I had good, and not-so-good teachers. What some of my teachers did and said back then, 30-40 years ago, still remain in my memory. That's how strongly teachers can touch a child's life in one way or another.

I had a good class teacher in Standard 5, Puan Zainun. She took note of her students' nature and character. She taught us Sejarah (History) in a way that made me listen in class despite hating to remember the dates and facts. When my mother and I went to school to collect the Standard 5 Assessment Exam results (yes, it was that long ago, way before UPSR came into the picture), she said to my mum "Anna is very timid, I shall make her a prefect next year" (to get me out of my shell). Those who know me now may not be able to imagine me back then. I was quiet, shy, timid. Put me on stage and I clam up. I was what C calls, which she has, Miss Goody Two Shoes. I studied hard, I did my homework the minute I got home from school, I even studied the forthcoming chapters without being told to, I revised what I had learnt that day after finishing my homework without being told to as well, I went to bed on time every night, nobody had to nag at me to do what was needed, I never got punished at school, primary school, that is (I had emerged out of my shell by secondary school, thanks to Standard 5 teacher's 'push', haha). Enough about me, back to good and not-so-good teachers. Puan Zainun was nice and good.

Standard 6 English teachers (or were they in Standard 5?). I had two of them. The first one, Mrs Ong, was one of those who trained overseas back then with the British teachers' training colleges (Kirkby/Brinsford in UK). She brought English to life in the classroom. It was my first time hearing terms like homonyms, learning to come up with a list of them. It was my first time learning phonetics, which was like magic and a new 'language'. She taught us songs, poetry and silly rhymes, she told us stories that expanded my mind's horizon, she made us act out silly skits. Then, she had to leave us for a new posting as headmistress of our sister school which we referred to as School 2 (we were in School 1). We got another English teacher, Mrs Chandy, who was no less wonderful, but a little firmer. She made English fun too. I was encouraged to write compositions that were interesting. She got us working in groups to put up musicals, dramas and dances for the school concert. To this day, I still remember the lyrics of 'The World is a Circle', a song from, I found out later as an adult, the movie Lost Horizon. Four of us also recited the lyrics of that song in a state-level choral recitation competition which we won. A few of my classmates are now journalists and I believe it was those seeds planted then that germinated. I was 12 years old then. I am 45 now. I'm sure if my memory does not fail me, I will remember these teachers and experiences at my deathbed.

For C, she had an English teacher this year whom she liked, Madam Sarah, until the teacher was transferred to another class. I would say C's command of English is relatively good, but she was encouraged to push her boundaries with this teacher because lessons in class were fun and interesting. It is when lessons are interesting and the teacher 'connects' with the kids, that kids will ask 'how high' when told to jump. It is when teachers go beyond merely teaching that kids will listen and accept when taught that Indians may not necessarily be Hindus.

Back then, my school had a well-balanced mix of students of different races. We didn't differentiate ourselves as Hindu, Christian, Buddhist, Chinese, Malay or Indian. We spoke to each other in Malay and English with no difficulty. We played together during recess time, after school and even outside of school in the evenings, we visited one another's homes during Chinese New Year, Deepavali and Hari Raya. We didn't know any better or worse, we just 'were', if you know what I mean. So unlike Cheryl Ann, our teachers didn't have to teach us that, neither did my parents, but like the abovementioned teachers, they taught us other things besides History and English. They taught me to be less timid and shy, to speak up, to acquire leadership skills and to practise teamwork, among others.

We were among the early batches who learned everything (except English) in Bahasa Malaysia when the government changed the syllabus to be taught in the national language. Back then, Mathematics was known as Ilmu Hisab, Geography was Ilmu Alam. It was only in secondary school that Mathematics became Matematik and Geography became Geografi. But I had no issues with switching between both languages. We referred to 'Additional Maths' as it is when we spoke in English, and as Matematik Tambahan when we spoke and learned it in BM. I continued switching between English and Malay terms with no difficulty in a local public university. I'm not sure now (and I don't really care to be honest), but back then, local public universities were to teach in BM despite 99 per cent of tertiary books being in English. My lecturers peppered their lectures in BM with English. We referred to the tripod as 'tungku kaki tiga'. I spelled 'bacteria' as 'bakteria', 'genes' as 'gen-gen' , answered all exam papers and wrote my thesis in BM, using reference books in English.

Today, C hates BM. She hardly mixes with people who speak that language. When asked to provide an adjective for a thin/skinny person, she says 'nipis' instead of 'kurus'. At Year 5, her BM is probably at Year 1 level. Majority of kids at private schools speak English, majority of kids at Chinese schools speak Mandarin, majority of kids from public schools speak Malay. What has happened in the span of one generation? I acknowledge that as parents, we could have done more but we are not entirely at fault here, whether you agree or not. However, that's another discussion.

As for not-so-good teachers, or rather, to be fair, not-so-good experiences with teachers, we do have a few, between C and I. In Standard 3, I had a not-so-good class teacher and I won't mention names for not-so-good teachers. She was strict, fierce and abusive verbally and physically. She would walk around the class wielding a the huge wooden ruler (the big type for drawing lines on the blackboard) calling out names one by one to answer questions. We had to stand up from our seats to answer and if the answer was wrong, we got whacked on the back with the ruler. We were nine years old in Standard 3. We were terrified of her. A classmate had the runs one day and was too afraid to ask for permission to go to the toilet. She sat through class all day drenched from waist down in greenish excrement. The teacher knew but didn't bother. Miss Goody Two Shoes here completed her Math work ahead of the bell, walked up to the teacher at her desk to hand it up to be marked. A swift palm landed on her cheek that left some scars in an otherwise blissful memory of her schooldays. The class was noisy and was grounded in class the entire recess time. Some kids suffered gastritis the next day. There are other horrific things the teacher did but I shall not mention it here.

Thankfully C has not encountered such a tyrant, but earlier this year, her spirit was dented when one teacher said to the entire class "In my 40 years of teaching, your class is the worst".  I had verified with another parent if this did happen. While I understand the teacher could have been stressed out teaching a class with diverse levels of aptitude for that particular subject, with one or two truly mischievous, disruptive boys, I wish she didn't utter those words in haste. I know she is in fact a good teacher. I shouldn't categorise her as a not-so-good teacher but this particular incident is just my way to illustrate how a small thing could be a big thing when it boils down to how a child views a respectable teacher.

Recently, C was called up by another teacher to be reprimanded for talking back to a prefect. C is not Miss Goody Two Shoes like me, she holds her own when it comes to teasing, bullying, and defending herself even when she is the one who did wrong. She felt a little down telling me about it. She said the teacher explained to her that the prefect was chosen because he is 'good and smart'. To give the benefit of doubt, I commend the teacher who must have also explained further in detail why she shouldn't have behaved rudely to the prefect. Maybe I'm over protective or biased but maybe, just maybe, C would have felt differently if she wasn't told that the prefect is 'good and smart'. I told C she is also good and smart. All children are good and smart, in their own unique way. So do you think you can be chosen as a prefect? I asked. Immediately she chimed with a knowing smile, "Noooo waaay!" She said even if she was chosen, she'd decline because she didn't want to wake up extra eraly to get to school for prefect duties, she wanted to enjoy her free time at recess and not do prefect duties. Is that 'good and smart'? Again, I should not categorise this teacher as 'not-so-good', certainly C's teachers mentioned here are far from my Standard 3 tyrant. it's is more like the situation or incident was not so good. But the point I want to make again with these illustrations is that teachers can build or break, because apart from parents, they spend a considerable amount of time with the children.

This may not be related but I want to share it anyway. I had shared some third party information about an educational workshop in an online group comprising teachers, parents and students. I got chided for 'spamming' with the rationale that the teachers would be insulted because it implies that they are not good enough and they and parents need to spend money to get outside help. It was just one post with innocent, good intentions, and not a flood of many 'advertisements' over a period of time. I had even the sensitivity and consideration, albeit after posting, to ask if it was permissible, and I was ungraciously chided, even more so after I replied with an explanation and suggestions on how other people like me could be prevented from doing such things, innocently or otherwise. I'd like to look at it positively that the person in charge cares enough to protect the interest of that online group, especially the teachers, although I felt it was over-reacted upon. I would have accepted it better if I was spoken to more graciously since I had apologised. However, I also wonder if the teachers really felt insulted by that one deed of mine. I would like to think that any qualified, experienced, self-confident teacher worth his or her own salt (not sure if I'm using this idiom correctly) would not have. They would have been open-minded and magnanimous enough to view it as mere information at the very least. Oh well, there's always two sides to a coin and I don't want to determine who's right or wrong.

Dear teachers, I take my hat off to you for what you are doing. I am not worthy to join your circle because I am not qualified as one, I don't have the care, patience and dedication to deal with even one not-so-goody-two-shoes at home, let alone a whole classroom full of boisterous, but precious, kids. I pray that you will impact each child you meet along your journey as teachers in mostly positive ways. I understand that there could be negative moments because that's just the way life is. We're all not perfect. We just need to remember to strive towards it.

Thank you for bearing with me in this very, very long post. I've not written such a long one in a very, very long time. I felt I needed to.

Don't Carpe Diem

I haven't posted here for over a month. Usually my longest is 2-3 weeks. There's been too much going on lately and right now, I can't even place a finger on the 'what and where' of all that's 'going on'. My mind's rather blank, not that it's 'blank' blank, but like when you go to a huge library, with rows and rows of books on rows and rows of shelves from wall to wall, floor to ceiling....you can't see an individual book but a big, huge blurry image of so many, many books. Gee, I don't even know if what I've just written makes any sense!

Anyway, just some quick updates with whatever I can recall. The days have been rather routine....and for those in temperate countries in the northern hemisphere, summer's just gone and fall has come. We're entering the final quarter of 2013! Gosh, where did the year go? C's going to take her school's end-of-year exam in mid October. We're at another crossroad. She will be in Year 6 next year. Her final year of primary school. As we had switched her to an international syllabus this year, she has the option to sit or not sit for the UPSR. Yes or no? I'm still wondering. When we don't have any choices, we complain. When we have, we also complain....

C's eczema and allergies as usual are roller-coastering. I took her yesterday to get an alternative approach to managing it. Will see how it goes within the next few weeks before I provide more information here. The place is in Desa Seri Hartamas, the other end of KL and this specialist is a busy one so I managed to get an appointment which saw us arriving straight from school just in time. After we got done, we decided to have an early dinner at the adjacent mall before heading home. We got caught in after-office traffic and it took us 1.5 hours to reach home. It was a long day for both of us but we managed. It helped that we heard a song on radio closer towards home -- this parody of the current, strange hit of " The Fox". For me, it's Gangnam meets Bollywood by a Norwegian group.

And this is the parody by our local radio station:
 


I continue my love-hate relationship with writing for some money. The same goes with parenting. Recently I read an article in Huffington Post which expressed this really well.

Don't Carpe Diem
Every time I'm out with my kids -- this seems to happen:
An older woman stops us, puts her hand over her heart and says something like, "Oh, Enjoy every moment. This time goes by so fast."

Everywhere I go, someone is telling me to seize the moment, raise my awareness, be happy, enjoy every second, etc, etc, etc.

I know that this message is right and good. But, I have finally allowed myself to admit that it just doesn't work for me. It bugs me. This CARPE DIEM message makes me paranoid and panicky. Especially during this phase of my life - while I'm raising young kids. Being told, in a million different ways to CARPE DIEM makes me worry that if I'm not in a constant state of intense gratitude and ecstasy, I'm doing something wrong.

I think parenting young children (and old ones, I've heard) is a little like climbing Mount Everest. Brave, adventurous souls try it because they've heard there's magic in the climb. They try because they believe that finishing, or even attempting the climb are impressive accomplishments. They try because during the climb, if they allow themselves to pause and lift their eyes and minds from the pain and drudgery, the views are breathtaking. They try because even though it hurts and it's hard, there are moments that make it worth the hard. These moments are so intense and unique that many people who reach the top start planning, almost immediately, to climb again. Even though any climber will tell you that most of the climb is treacherous, exhausting, killer. That they literally cried most of the way up.

And so I think that if there were people stationed, say, every thirty feet along Mount Everest yelling to the climbers -- "ARE YOU ENJOYING YOURSELF!? IF NOT, YOU SHOULD BE! ONE DAY YOU'LL BE SORRY YOU DIDN'T!" TRUST US!! IT'LL BE OVER TOO SOON! CARPE DIEM!" -- those well-meaning, nostalgic cheerleaders might be physically thrown from the mountain.

Now. I'm not suggesting that the sweet old ladies who tell me to ENJOY MYSELF be thrown from a mountain. These are wonderful ladies. Monkees, probably. But last week, a woman approached me in the Target line and said the following: "Sugar, I hope you are enjoying this. I loved every single second of parenting my two girls. Every single moment. These days go by so fast."
At that particular moment, Amma had arranged one of the new bras I was buying on top of her sweater and was sucking a lollipop that she must have found on the ground. She also had three shop-lifted clip-on neon feathers stuck in her hair. She looked exactly like a contestant from Toddlers and Tiaras. I couldn't find Chase anywhere, and Tish was grabbing the pen on the credit card swiper thing WHILE the woman in front of me was trying to use it. And so I just looked at the woman, smiled and said, "Thank you. Yes. Me too. I am enjoying every single moment. Especially this one. Yes. Thank you."

That's not exactly what I wanted to say, though.
There was a famous writer who, when asked if he loved writing, replied, "No. but I love having written." What I wanted to say to this sweet woman was, "Are you sure? Are you sure you don't mean you love having parented?"

I love having written. And I love having parented. My favorite part of each day is when the kids are put to sleep (to bed) and Craig and I sink into the couch to watch some quality TV, like Celebrity Wife Swap, and congratulate each other on a job well done. Or a job done, at least.

Every time I write a post like this, I get emails suggesting that I'm being negative. I have received this particular message four or five times -- G, if you can't handle the three you have, why do you want a fourth?
That one always stings, and I don't think it's quite fair. Parenting is hard. Just like lots of important jobs are hard. Why is it that the second a mother admits that it's hard, people feel the need to suggest that maybe she's not doing it right? Or that she certainly shouldn't add more to her load. Maybe the fact that it's so hard means she IS doing it right...in her own way...and she happens to be honest.

Craig is a software salesman. It's a hard job in this economy. And he comes home each day and talks a little bit about how hard it is. And I don't ever feel the need to suggest that he's not doing it right, or that he's negative for noticing that it's hard, or that maybe he shouldn't even consider taking on more responsibility. And I doubt anybody comes by his office to make sure he's ENJOYING HIMSELF. I doubt his boss peeks in his office and says: "This career stuff...it goes by so fast...ARE YOU ENJOYING EVERY MOMENT IN THERE, CRAIG???? CARPE DIEM, CRAIG!"
My point is this. I used to worry that not only was I failing to do a good enough job at parenting, but that I wasn't enjoying it enough. Double failure. I felt guilty because I wasn't in parental ecstasy every hour of every day and I wasn't MAKING THE MOST OF EVERY MOMENT like the mamas in the parenting magazines seemed to be doing. I felt guilty because honestly, I was tired and cranky and ready for the day to be over quite often. And because I knew that one day, I'd wake up and the kids would be gone, and I'd be the old lady in the grocery store with my hand over my heart. Would I be able to say I enjoyed every moment? No.

But the fact remains that I will be that nostalgic lady. I just hope to be one with a clear memory. And here's what I hope to say to the younger mama  gritting her teeth in line:
"It's helluva hard, isn't it? You're a good mom, I can tell. And I like your kids, especially that one peeing in the corner. She's my favorite. Carry on, warrior. Six hours till bedtime." And hopefully, every once in a while, I'll add -- "Let me pick up that grocery bill for ya, sister. Go put those kids in the van and pull on up -- I'll have them bring your groceries out."
Anyway. Clearly, Carpe Diem doesn't work for me. I can't even carpe fifteen minutes in a row, so a whole diem is out of the question.

Here's what does work for me:
There are two different types of time. Chronos time is what we live in. It's regular time, it's one minute at a time, it's staring down the clock till bedtime time, it's ten excruciating minutes in the Target line time, it's four screaming minutes in time out time, it's two hours till daddy gets home time. Chronos is the hard, slow passing time we parents often live in.
Then there's Kairos time. Kairos is God's time. It's time outside of time. It's metaphysical time. It's those magical moments in which time stands still. I have a few of those moments each day. And I cherish them.

Like when I actually stop what I'm doing and really look at Tish. I notice how perfectly smooth and brownish her skin is. I notice the perfect curves of her teeny elf mouth and her asianish brown eyes, and I breathe in her soft Tishy smell. In these moments, I see that her mouth is moving but I can't hear her because all I can think is -- This is the first time I've really seen Tish all day, and my God -- she is so beautiful. Kairos.

Like when I'm stuck in chronos time in the grocery line and I'm haggard and annoyed and angry at the slow check-out clerk. And then I look at my cart and I'm transported out of chronos. And suddenly I notice the piles and piles of healthy food I'll feed my children to grow their bodies and minds and I remember that most of the world's mamas would kill for this opportunity. This chance to stand in a grocery line with enough money to pay. And I just stare at my cart. At the abundance. The bounty. Thank you, God. Kairos.

Or when I curl up in my cozy bed with Theo asleep at my feet and Craig asleep by my side and I listen to them both breathing. And for a moment, I think- how did a girl like me get so lucky? To go to bed each night surrounded by this breath, this love, this peace, this warmth? Kairos.

These kairos moments leave as fast as they come- but I mark them. I say the word kairos in my head each time I leave chronos. And at the end of the day, I don't remember exactly what my kairos moments were, but I remember I had them. And that makes the pain of the daily parenting climb worth it.

If I had a couple Kairos moments during the day, I call it a success.

Carpe a couple of Kairoses a day.

Good enough for me.

School holidays are here again!

I'm forever lamenting here in this blog that time flies way, way too fast. It's one month since I updated this blog. We're in the midst of school holidays, again! This time it was preceded by the Hari Raya holiday which fell on last Thursday and Friday and school has been out since then till end of this week.

It's a good thing that C didn't get any homework at all from school this time around. Either that, or she decided not to bring the work home! She's capable of that at times! But I trust that the teachers really didn't give any homework this time :)

As usual, we, or rather C, has grand plans to do many things during her free time. But since she is the type who dawdles and lives in the moment, she is pretty slow (by my standards) in getting things moving.

She however surprised us on the first morning of the holidays by waking up at 6.30am. On normal school days, that would be rare as we'd have to shake her out to get to school on time! She couldn't go back to sleep so I jokingly suggested she went and got breakfast ready. Lo and behold, she did. She came to us with a notebook and pencil and asked us for our breakfast orders *rolling my eyes*

While E and I continued to laze in bed for a while, she made sandwiches with butter and jam, and a fried egg for E, cereal with milk and an omelette for me, plus coffee for both of us.

 

 

During the Hari Raya break, we caught two movies, Wolverine and Percy Jackson on two separate days, at two different movie theatres. The two sweet-tooth people in my family had to have popcorn, of course.

 

Apart from movies, tv, iPad and computer games and videos from Brainpop, C started another 'storybook' of her own, writing an assortment of her own stories.

 

Yesterday, we sent her to a 3-day, 2-night nature camp at Janda Baik. She was so excited to go that she awoke at 4am. After dropping her off and returning to KL, E and I decided to visit Petaling Street, KL's Chinatown.

 

It's been more than 10 years since I last went there. Things have changed in that old part of KL. The roads were rather messy with the construction of LRT tracks. Some old buildings were demolished to make way for them, what a pity. What's 'Chinese' that remains of Chinatown is the food, some of the shops selling clothes, bags, shoes, etc. As for the stalls lining the roadside selling all sorts of knock offs, most of them are now manned by foreigners like Bangaldeshis :( 

 

 

Murals by a group of people who want to preserve the heritage on Jalan Sultan where six lots of buildings have been demolished to make way for development. Watch this video for more info:

 

 

Foreigners manning stalls

 

But some 'historical' gems are still there if you've lived in KL long enough to know. For a foodie like me, I took note of the stalls that have been faithful residents there for decades, although they could now be manned by a younger generation.

 

The daughter of the original salted roast duck seller is now continuing the business. They have been here for decades, selling their roast ducks and wrapped duck feet delicacy out of this cart by the roadside.

 

The roast duck seller's well-known name, 'Sze Ngan Chye' (Four-eyed Guy). This highly recognisable signage with red and white letterings in this typical typeface has not changed at all. Talk about strong branding! 

 

 

This 'air mata kuching' (longan drink) stall has been here for as long as I can remember, at the corner of Hong Leong Bank. It used to be a must-buy for E long ago during our single days when we visited this place, so yesterday, he re-lived 'history' by buying a cup, now priced at RM1.50. Those days, they served it in a bowl and many people would stand around the stall, drinking from the bowl.

 

 

This is another decades-old stall selling fried snacks and some specialty Cantonese kuih, including 'sat kei ma', 'siu hou chou', 'ham chim peng', 'mah kiok', 'hup tou sou', etc.

 

 

On our way home, we had to stop at a the traffic light junction facing Central Market. The former wet market of old, now a cultural/handicraft centre named Pasar Seni (Art Market) is now painted in light blue (I remember it as greyish or green back then). Alongside it, the alley has been transformed to what's called Kasturi Walk, with a giant wau (Malaysian traditional kite) fronting it!

 

 

It's good that I got to visit Petaling Street and drive past the areas surrounding it yesterday to take a look at the changes in town. Puduraya, the old central bus station got a facelift and the busy roundabout there is gone. The Klang Bus Station also got a facelift. The heart of old KL feels totally different from the one I used to know when I first moved here to live and work in the early 1990s....

 

Driving past Jalan Pudu on our way home, I could still at least feel that there wasn't as much change on that road, despite some new buildings coming up and the Pudu Jail gone. The popular Teochew porridge shop behind Berjaya Times Square (I can't stop thinking about food :-p) is still there too! 

 



 

Half a year's gone by!

Whoa! It's mid July already! It felt like just yesterday when I was thinking to myself on the first day of July that we've reached the half-year mark of 2013....So much to do, so much not done...the must-do's keep taking priority over the want-to-do's...it's just so exhausting and demotivating for me. But didn't I just go on a holiday to Singapore about 1.5 months ago? Speaking of which I have yet to write about the things we did and the places we went to there. Will I ever write about it? At this juncture, I'm doubtful....

Continuing from the previous post where I mentioned my brother and his family visiting, well, they left last weekend. We ate a lot, we caught up and chatted. We took a family photograph back at my parents' home :) The kids and C had fun together but typical of children, they fought a fair bit too, especially between C and her eight-year-old cousin. They are similar in some ways -- must always win and have the last say, practise tit-for tat, and will make very good lawyers in future. Meanwhile, the cute little five-year-old was happily tailing the two older ones everywhere and joining them in watching tv, playing toys and games on their handheld gadgets. There were times when the two older ones didn't give in to her and let's just say, the house was hardly quiet during those times.

Now that our guests have left, ACE is back to routine. However, the past two days were a little different. Cousin R, six years of age, is one active boy and he visited us on Saturday. He enjoys C's company (and adores 'che che' a lot) although the same cannot be said of C who, apart from Lego and tv, prefers other forms of entertainment at her age. However, they share a common interest in soccer. E who also enjoys the game took out his portable goal posts and set it up in our car porch. Saturday afternoon soccer between one adult and two kids took place. They had fun kicking the mini soccer ball around while the rest of us had fun watching.

C and I recently got ourselves rollerblades. We went over to the skating rink near the PJ Hockey Stadium and tried them out on Sunday evening. The last time I rollerbladed was before E and I were married when we and a couple of friends decided to make it a weekend thing together. I never got to master it then so it was back to the drawing board for me yesterday. I could skate, albeit slowly, and my stunts were limited to ungraceful landings on palms and knees and my saggy bottom. Hee hee hee. C did better although she is also a beginner learner. It's an age thing for sure. When you're young, you're fearless.

These physical activities are the wee beginnings of my desire to get C to be more active physically and for us to be outdoors more. I wish C's school is more supportive of female soccer. They initially discouraged C from joining but after she went and 'argued' her case to the principal, they allowed her to join the after-school practices last year. She was the only girl there. However, being a school that does not seem to emphasise too much on sports, their practices were axed when inter-school football season ended. Just last week, they announced that football practice is back on and C signed up but she changed her mind as again, she is the only girl on the field and didn't think she'd enjoy it this time. As much as I'd like her to be active in some outdoor activity or sport at school, especially in something she has interest in, I decided to let her forego soccer this year, looking at how she didn't gain much from last year's experience, being the only girl there...