Confession of a Hippie Wannabe

Confession. I've always had hippie tendencies. Save the world. Save paper. Recycle. Save water. Reuse. Upcycle. Hug trees. Plant trees. No airconds. No preservatives. Homemade's the best.

And the older I get, the stronger my hippie tendencies have become.

I want to be preservative-free. Toxic-free even. I want to go no-poo. I want to throw away these deodorants, lotions and soaps. I want my family to go no-poo. I want to use everything homemade. Yes that includes soaps, shampoos and everything under the sun. 

It ain't easy.

Food-wise, we rarely eat out anymore. Organic? Some, not all. Getting there InsyaAllah. It ain't cheap to be organic.

And it ain't easy being a hippie in this land. Too many critics, too many judgments. 

Down with it all! 

Tonight I washed my son's hair with honey. The bath room looks like a mini-kitchen, with apple cider and baking soda (for our homemade shampoo), and honey for cleansing and washing the kids' hair.

Now where's my daisy-print head scarf? 

This is how I imagine I look like..

 But this is how I probably look like in reality ;) (well if I'm lucky enough)

*Images from google!

But who cares? Who says standing up for your beliefs would be easy?

Onwards and upwards! Lets save the world and ourselves from toxic and illnesses.

The Beginning of Spinning

I started something I'm incredibly excited about this week. I attended an RPM class. Also known as "spinning" to some.

All these years I've looked at people going to gym classes in awe and envy. The people who attend dance, body combat, step, and so on.. look so well-coordinated and fit. When I started going to the gym in April, I didn't think I could go to any of the classes. Truth was I didn't have the guts to. I knew I'd end up just embarrassing or disappointing myself.

When I started training for all the marathons, my trainer A started me on a regime of exercises aimed to strengthen my legs (which were sooo unfit!) and increase my endurance. When he started me on a cycling regime.. I thought he'd gone mad. Burn calories while sitting on my backside..? Get real. Marathoners look fit and lean. Cyclist look lean too, sure, but hey they've got big thighs still coz they're always sitting on their bums...! Right? Wrong.

Those thighs are pure muscle!

A got me started on interval training. Basically this means that I have to pedal VERY intensely for 3 minutes, then rest for a minute or a minute and a half. And back to intense pedaling for 3 minutes, then rest again. Every session was a minimum of 30 minutes of interval training.

The first change I noticed was my level of fitness. I don't get breathless on my walks anymore. My cardio capacity and capability increased so much, I was genuinely surprised.

Then I noticed my legs don't look like elephant trunks anymore. Could it be that.... I was getting fitter...?! Perasannnnnnnnnnnn :p

Then I noticed that those 10 km walks stopped hurting. Miracle of all miracles.

And finally, I realised that I could jog again!

Yes jog! Praise Allah! I haven't jogged in 8 years since they put those implants in me and I felt as if my insides rattled everytime I jogged. And ever since those semi-paralysed days, I just didn't dare to overdo my left leg because sometimes it still acts like a "lazy" leg.

So yesterday, I decided to try out the RPM (spinning i.e. cycling) class. I figured if it started hurting... I'd sneak quietly out the door ;D

The instructor was a good guy who helped us set up our bikes coz we had no clue how those spinning bikes work.

The minute the music and cycling started.. I knew I'd found one more thing I thoroughly, truly, genuinely, truly ENJOY.

Today my neck, shoulders and bum hurt like you wouldn't believe it.

But you bet I'm going to the RPM class again tomorrow!

Now this item's on my next birthday's wish list... ;)

The CICM Responsible Care Run 2010 in Bukit Jalil

It was a simple community run, and though the efforts they put in showed, it wasn't the most organized of all runs.

The reason I said that was because there was no clear, big signage showing the path for 5 km and/or 10 km. The result...? The kids (my nephew Shazwan and niece Sarah) ended up taking the wrong path (the one for the 10km runners!) and missed the 5 km path altogether. Thank goodness they were told to cut their run short when they approached a volunteer (they were wondering why there weren't very many youngsters on their route, whereas their category was supposed to be for the kiddies), and returned to the stadium after about 6 km. Poor souls! But kids being kids, they didn't mind the extra mileage at all.. not even a bit, especially after seeing their medals and certs. Top that up with the free Vico, Revive, Gardenia buns and nasi lemak they got for free, and the run ended on a high note for them.

The route itself wasn't the greatest (having to past the heavy traffic of the highways surrounding Bukit Jalil) but hey, that was to be expected. I was ready for that, but wasn't ready for the fact that the road closure wasn't very safe. Only half a lane was shut off for the runners (with cones meters apart! Would've been much safer with the cones closer together..), and the cars zoomed by with no regards as we struggled to stay within the closed half-lane. Overtaking other joggers was no easy feat with the cars steadily zooming by.

And that's the reason why we weren't happy that there weren't proper signage for the 5km runners because the kids (and according to them there were other "lost" kids as well) ended up having to follow the busy traffic-laden 10km route. Kids can get rowdy when running, so it was pretty worrying.

But!

Although my performance wasn't personally satisfying.. I still felt a bit batak in the end (super-excited!) because...



I got my first medal.

Hahahhahahahhhaahhaaaaaaaaaaaa

Jakun!

The Penang Marathon

.. is the first time I'd walked/jogged in the rain, feeling trapped like a mouse in a full-caged mousetrap, yet coming close to having the most memorable time of my life as I watched the sun rise on the horizon, as I was walking on the bridge that otherwise usually carries motor vehicles, not human traffic as we saw that Saturday.

.. is the first 10 km marathon in which I managed to record a finishing time of below 1 hour 30 minutes. Maybe it was the rain which felt cool and freeing on my face, all salty mixed with sweat (instead of the hot hot heat and unrelenting sun on that day of the Serdang Mizuno Waverun Marathon a month ago).. maybe it was the fact that even though I was in foreign surrounding, I did manage to memorise the marathon route this time around instead of going in blind (which usually caused me many moments of... "Are we there yet?? How much longer lahhhh...??"...)...

I don't know what it is, but this was undoubtedly the best one I've had so far. And mind you, I went into it alone, I ran alone, I finished alone. No H this time or anyone else. Because H went for the 21 km run at 3 a.m. and was finished by the time I started my 10 km.

So I guess the best part of it was knowing that finally I can say that there really is no competition in this cocoon of mine except for myself.

Maybe marathons are simply the fashion of the moment. Maybe it won't be fashionable 10 years from now. But you can be sure that I'll try my hardest not to forget these feelings of Syukur (thankfulness) and awe that I feel about God and His blessings everytime I run and finish a marathon.

I do not take this walking ability You give me for granted. :) Where I was once nearly paralysed, I'm walking normally again now. And each marathon gives me that realisation, over and over again.

So go ahead, seriously, try a marathon out. Maybe you'd be as surprised as I am at what you'll discover about yourself.


The sunrise.

The Melantak Family

We just came back from an overnight stay in Johor Bharu. Yes JB. It was for our cousin Dina's wedding reception.

Good God, the whole family must've eaten enough food to feed ten armies.

For our little family, it started with a humble bowl of mee rebus muar at the Pagoh rest stop. It was decent, so I decided to ask for "No taugeh, extra mee please bang.."

That kind of set the tempo for the rest of the holiday. There was no stopping the gluttons within us. It was all systems go.

The mee rebus came back full to the brim, with deliciously sweet gravy nearly spilling out of the embarrassingly huge bowl. They'd put perhaps four fistfuls tauhus in there, and a whole boiled egg.

Then that night it was the reception dinner.

Everyone had seconds. And thirds. Then fourths. Err.. perhaps some of us had more than that. I tell ya, I haven't drooled over ayam masak merah like that in what seems like ages.

Then in the morning, the whole gang met at the coffee house for the buffet breakfast. I think we nearly gave the manager a heart attack.

Everyone stayed for more than an hour, polishing off many, many, many plates of food.

Then too soon it was time to go our own ways.

For H, Gibran, my mum, aunt and myself.... it meant more food.

We faithfully followed the GPS instructions to a wicked murtabak stall in Kampung Melayu Majidi where together we promptly devoured a plate of rojak (containing tempeh and spareparts.. yummehh), a special beef murtabak and an ayam murtabak. And ais kacang on top of all that, please.

We even tapau-ed some for our family and friends in KL.

We managed to behave pretty well all the way home, only stopping for canned Nescafe, isotonic drinks and yogurt drink for the li'l fella who'd been competing his appetite nicely alongside ours throughout the journey.

You'd think the rah-rah-go-foooooood tempo would stop once we reached KL. Wrong.

By 8 p.m. we figured we'd behaved long enough to earn a nice meal at Homst TTDI.

And so we devoured four large lauks with platefuls of rice.

And that, my friends, was our MELANTAK weekend so far.

Thank God for the Nike City Run tomorrow.

At House of Pakeeza

H and I met up with S&S (a couple who're good friends of ours who used to stay in Kemaman but have recently relocated to Selangor) earlier tonight for Iftar at House of Pakeeza in Seksyen 14.

The food was good, except the desserts which were pretty hopeless. The palak paneer we ordered on the side was great as usual. And the free flow of sirap is always good ;) Yes I'm easy to please.

Then as the night went on and the crowd thinned, I saw something that made me seriously displeased.

It was about 9+ p.m. by then, and we were amongst the few people still lingering there, chatting as we always do. I glanced over at the kueh section and saw a waiter collecting the pakoras which have fallen out of its bowl onto the table with his hands. By the way, pakoras are like kueh goreng made of flour and lotsa veges. He collected the pakoras at the center of the table, lazily scooped them up with both of his hands, and dumped them back into its bowl.

Yes, that's right. He'd put the fallen pakoras back into its serving dish and he'd even arranged the tongs nicely in the bowl so that the next person that comes along could unknowingly take the pakoras for a nice munching session.

I don't know about you.. but I find that a little more than distasteful. Very unappealing. Gross, even.

First, the pakoras were already scattered around the table. When I saw him collecting the pakoras with both his right and left hands.. I'd seriously thought he was going to dispose of them in the garbage bin, or at least have them taken away from the table.

Secondly.. How clean are those hands that have been serving tables all night? And to use both your right and left hand too.... now, think, what d'ya usually use your left hand for, fellas?

Thirdly.. come on, if you can do that in plain view of customers... what the heck are you capable of doin in the kitchen? YUCK. Perish the thought.

There should be such a thing as a Restaurant Police.

The KL Marathon 2010

Today was super-awesome!


T'was our first time to join the KL Marathon fun :D

H completed the 10k run, while the rest of us a.k.a. "The Rookies" did the 5k Family Fun Walk. H got a medal, I got a finisher's certificate. Hee.

I don't remember KL looking that beautiful. Not since my childhood.

Running at 8 a.m. in the morning throughout the hilly inner roads and main roads of KL does that to you, I guess. When else do you get to do a jiggy-dance right there in the middle of Jalan Tunku Abd. Rahman??

This is definitely going to be a yearly date!

On "Housewives"

"Housework is what a woman does that nobody notices unless she hasn't done it."

Ain't that true?

H isn't the typical sort of man who never helps with the housechores. He vacuums, he cleans, he washes (everything including Gib's bum bum), and his latest obsession is hunting for ants all over the house. I wouldn't know what I'd do without him.

But I still get bothered sometimes by that age-old question. That li'l question that must've crossed any woman's mind at some point of time. Perhaps for some, the question would never be said, and would be thought of in different ways. But for me it's really simple.

Is this really worth it?

A woman is called a "housewife", which always sounds (to me at least) like she does nothing but sits, at home. Sort of like a house cat.. or a house dog. Any kind of house pet. And you know what housepets do. Imagine a "housecat". A housecat eats, lazes, plays, poos and pees in the house. A housecat seldom roams outside. So, really, it makes you wonder. Who on earth came up with the term "housewife" lah..?

You know why I can't help but ask myself that question up there sometimes..?

Coz you know you run the house (ok ok so in this paragraph the word "you" means "me" lah okayyy). Without you, without your hands, your efforts, and your obsession with organising and managing the house.. you know the house'll fall apart. Sure, people will survive, life will go on. After all, noone is indispensable. But as the days go by and you do ALL the little things that needs to be done in the house, you start to wonder if anyone notices all these things you do. Your hands get sore and your back starts aching. And then ultimately you'll definitely start wondering if the pains and efforts are all worth it because.. does anyone even notice all these things you're doing..?

So little do people know.. what a "housewife" really wishes for is appreciation. Appreciation and love and respect for her needs sometimes. Maybe once in a while the housewife could go out with the girls and have a fun little shopping trip. Or maybe have that much needed pedicure. Or even 20 minutes all to herself to work out and feel good about herself and her body. That'd be nice.

It's different for men. However helpful the men are, it'll always be different. The men get to go to work. The men get paid to go to work. The men can have lunches with colleagues and friends. The men get personal time to work out or fun activities like recreational sports.

It might sound so petty and whiny, but I never really thought about this until I became a full-fledged, maid-less housewife myself. And no, sorry ladies.. you won't totally get this if you've got a maid at hand to help you out. My Mom, for instance, always had help at hand. It's a different kind of game plan if you are the sole person responsible for your home, and everyone in it, and all of their individual needs. For the first time in my life, I'm seeing things from the perspectives of a honest-to-goodness-fulltime-housewife.

I somehow stumbled into this piece of writing as I was surfing the net. And it made me wonder why people often give so little thought to needs of a fulltime "housewife". I'll come to the conclusion now. Below is the thing that I need to say. This is the thing that needs to be said because I finally understand what being a "housewife" is all about. And it needs to be said because these people get so little credit. I never gave them much thought before this as well. So now that I've been forced to join their ranks, I have to say this. As cheesy as it sounds.

Being a "Housewife" is definitely a JOB.

You don't get paid. You often don't even get noticed. You'd hardly ever get promoted. In fact sometimes you'd get demoted. There're no KPIs to fulfill. But IT'S A JOB. No holidays. No breaks. Just an ongoing, unstopping, demanding sort of JOB.

And I absolutely salute you ladies out there who proudly call yourself "Housewives". Those who've gone through this, those who are going through it as we speak, and especially those who do it from the sincerest depths of their hearts.

People can think and say whatever they want when they read this. But this person's point of view pertaining "Housewives" would never again be askewed.

Meeting Tun Mahathir and Jamal Abdillah

This is a backdated post but something was wrong with our lovely Streamyx so I haven't been able to put it up.

On Sunday night (09/08/2009), we went to see this..

As a child I'd always liked Jamal Abdillah. Hooooboy, who doesn't remember the movie "Azura" and how hawt he was back then? Yeah yeah you can argue that he was as scrawny as a pole, and what with all his drug involvement.. poor fella. Now he ain't as handsome as he used to be, but he's still really talented alright.


This picture looks really familiar lah. Doesn't Michael Jackson have a similar picture..?? Oh wellll.

Truthfully I am not a big fan of the local music scene. The singers and their musics nowadays lack a certain sort of charisma. Now singers from back in the ol' days (from Tan Sri P. Ramlee's days up till the 80s) are in a different class of their own. Somewhere from the mid 80s, I just stopped being able to grasp the local music scene. As a teenager I wouldn't be caught dead listening to Malaysian music. Cool lah tu konon, eh? Pffft.

Anyway.. before I go too far off-tangent..

So despite the H1N1 worry, with Dad babysitting the kids (and the maids!); Mom, Sister, BIL, BIL'S Mama (my sister's mother-in-law la..), Dr. D (BIL's little sister) and I got dressed up and went to Jamal's last night performing at Istana Budaya for the Kembara Seniman tour.

I've forgotten 90% of his songs' lyrics and resorted to humming like a bee throughout the play+concert. The fella has a super-awesome voice, I tell ya. He sings so effortlessly, it got kinda scary to watch at times. You know.. the note is soo high, you'd expect the guy's voice to break and it doesn't. Phew.

Ohhhh ohhhh let me just tell you who we met there.

Tun Mahathir!

Yeah yeah so sue me. I'm a HUGE fan of Tun Mahathir. Always been, always will be. No politician is without flaws, but to me that old man is really something.


Tun Mahathir's car pulled up beside us as we were walking up the entrance of Istana Budaya and we got to wave "hi" at him. Hehehe. Batak sungguh. Well at least he smiled at us to acknowledge our mad wavings. Know why he pulled up right beside us? Because we took the wrong way and ended up at the V.I.P. entrance, that's why. See, I did say we were acting like bataks, right? Kekekee.

Since we sat beside the entrance, we got quite close to the V.I.P. entourage. Sister and Dr. D's highlight of the night was the fact that they got to salam the Tun. Grr. Yes I'm jealous.


Mom and me. Got resemblance, you think?


From left; BIL's Mama, Dr. D, Sister and BIL.

And after the concert, we once again we took the V.I.P.-route to the car (very few people followed this route), and waved again like bataks as the Tun and Dr. Siti Hasmah drove away. We had hoped to get personal pictures with Jamal, but BIL was being a real joykiller! He was hungry and wanted to leave a.s.a.p. Tsk tsk. So all I got was a picture of 50 year old Jamal Abdillah from afar (yes that's Datuk Rais Yatim beside him).



The performance was worth every penny. We got the RM150 tickets (after discount it was about RM137), but there were empty seats at the RM300 place and a few of us (Mom and me included) sat there for the second half of the show. So we got a really good view. The first part of the performance was a musical play, and it gave us an intimate view of Jamal's career; his achievements and personal turmoils. The man is indeed superbly talented, but what a lonely life he leads. In short, it was a heartwrenching, raw and honest piece of performance where he showed how lonely a life as a performer can be. Kudos to the man for fighting his inner devils (i.e. his drug problems in particular) and may Allah give him strength to stay strong and fight.

Overall.. what a night!

If anyone knows of any 80s Malaysian artists giving stage performances in the future, do holler!!

Owning Up

Was in Taman Megah today to get the suspected-fractured-foot x-ray-ed, and decided to park at the opened-air carpark behind the Sime Darby Health Centre in Tmn Megah. No improper parking for me, sirree, don't want no parking tickets.

Forty minutes later, Mom and I came back to my good ol' second-hand bright blue Avanza which I'd bought with my own sweat money from the good ol' working days in Melbourne, to find the Avanza's bum having been bumped by some car reversing out of its spot. Or whatever.

Yeah I could take a picture of it and post it up here. But I think looking at the picture would make me pi$$ed off somehow. It isn't so bad to warrant cursings and crying on my behalf (although Mom did utter colourful curse-phrases all the way home.. now, how come she wonders where I get my temper from?) because .. well, a car is just a car, right? And the car still works fine. And the dent + scratches aren't soo chronic that they can be seen from more than 20 metres away (err.. 10 metres away still can see lah, methinks). And.. well, there is nothing I can do at this point anyway, so I'm just going to take it as fated by God, as a test unto me.

You know that prayer of serenity they put on bookmarks?

It goes something like this:

"May God grant me the serenity
To accept the things I cannot change;
Courage to change the things I can;
And the wisdom to know the difference."

I like that one. It does have a lot of truth in it, doesn't it?

But let me just say one thing, guys.

If, lets just say, IF and IF any one of you out there accidentally bump into another person's car (especially a parked car, with its owner utterly oblivious to what's happening to his/her vehicle!)... do have the courage and courtesy to own up to it and do the right thing. Because.. well..

Because it's just the right thing to do.

The other party may diss you and hiss at you, but you can live with yourself knowing that you simply did the right thing. You didn't run, you didn't hide. You owned up. And that is just... SO right.

Thank You Mr. Policemen

Our friend Tam was hanging out at our house earlier tonight and left not five minutes ago. It's always nice to have company, BUT....

I got so nervous tonight, I sweated buckets!!!!

I was busy gossipping with Tam when we heard loud crashing sounds on the porsh outside the house. We both rushed to the windows and saw half-a-red brick laying on the floor outside the window. The other half of the brick was laying outside the front door. I woke H up and told him that someone was throwing bricks at our house and then we called the Damansara Utama Police Station. Tam needed to get home and we didn't want to open the doors to a possible situation where there could be invaders in hiding, waiting to ambush us once the doors were opened. Hey, call me paranoid, but doesn't that happen fairly often in good ol' Malaysia?

Talk about a pleasant surprise; the coppers arrived within 5 to 10 minutes! Definitely under 10 minutes. Now that's public service.

They kept their siren lights going (minus the sound of course) and that attracted a number of neighbours to their doors for peakings. Surprising, the number of Malaysians still up at 2 a.m. There were two cops, one even armed with an M16. They took out their C.S.I.-like neon flashlights and circled around the house to make sure there was noone hiding in possible nooks and crannies.

We actually apologised for calling them over the very small matter of having bricks thrown into our car porsh, but they gravely told us that one can never be too careful nowadays with the rising criminal statistics. They both assured us that we did the right thing to call them because, yes, invaders could just ambush upon you at anytime. Don't ever think you're invincible in your own home, folks.

Once the policemen left, H and I sat like statues for a while in our living room while this realisation dawned upon us; noone is really entirely safe in their own homes. One has to be constantly aware of the dangers lurking in our societies, even when one feels falsely safe and secured in one own's home.

The bricks barely missed our cars. I've got a feeling that they were aiming for our cars but missed. Alhamdulillah. God protected us tonight.

And may Allah bless the coppers for their kindness and thoroughness, and guide them to provide their best for us. Because we do need watchmen in our society, and although I've never been a big fan of the Malaysian Police Force (ohhh yeahh... don't get me started on my lack of trust in the authorities.. I have trust issues, remember?) I must say that tonight they were there for us at the right time, and with the right words.

So thanks, Mister Policemen.

Everything Happens For a Reason

That's what they say. And yes, I do believe it's true.

At the Arabic class yesterday our teacher Mr. Bilal was telling us how he ended up in Malaysia. And Subhanallah, the story is nothing short of an amazing tale of intertwining fates. He was made redundant from a job as a computer specialist. He felt lost and decided to travel to Makkah for Umrah, during which he met a cousin of his whom he fell-in-fancy with. He married her, and they went back to Yemen where he was raised. In his desperate efforts for a job, he met the man who later played a vital role in bringing him here to Malaysia. And this all happened within the span of several months.

Dare I say something that has plagued my mind for years..?

If Ninie didn't die, I wouldn't be where I am now. If Ninie who was one of my oldest dearest friends, did not die, I wouldn't have decided to throw away all the care I had in the world and have a baby. If Ninie didn't die, I wouldn't feel afraid of having my life snatched away from me tonight or tomorrow.

Not a day passes that I don't think of her. I will always miss her. I miss her laughter and everything that made her unique. And I know one day I'll see her again when the time comes.

Morbid talk aside.. Do you ever wonder what in your life, what is that thing that happened for what reason(s)? We all have things that happen and change our lives permanently in unbelievable ways.

For me, Ninie was (is) one of those things.

What's yours? What changed your life forever..?

The Indon Maid Matter

Wowza. My maid was acting up the whole day (you know, one of those days when they cannot do anything right), and I tell you... my blood-went-upstairs when I read in The Star today about the demands made by the Indon government for their workers who are planning to work in Malaysia.

Hey don't get me wrong. I am thankful for the help that I get. But the demands made are RIDICULOUS.

The Indonesian side is saying that the demands are necessary because they must do what they can to protect their citizens' rights. Oh gee. So what about us, the Malaysian employers. What are our rights?

I've had two maids so far (this is our second one) but all my life we've always had maids. Alhamdulillah. When I was small, we had a local maid from Batang Berjuntai in Selangor. She was my nanny and Mom's maid. Her name was (is!) Kak Lela. She was with us for more than 10 years and was a part of our family. She left to marry and start a family and it was sad for all of us to see her go.

Mom hired weekly help after Kak Lela left and we got our first Indon maid when Shazwan was born in 1995 because sister was working then and Mom needed help caring for Shazwan. Since then there's been a succession of Indonesian maids in our home.

We never mistreat our maids. My parents' maid has been with us for 11 years and Sister's maid has been with us for 7 years. My first maid, Nila, wanted to stay but chose to go home because she had a toddler of her own. I hope our current one somehow would work a number of years to come.

But hullo! .... If you think having maids is something of a luxury and can really simplify one's life.. goodness how you are sadly mistaken.

When Sister was looking for maid of her own (about 8 years ago), she went through a few agents and was cheated out of thousands of ringgits when the maids ran off or stole things or were forced to be sent back.

Once (we suspect) we took in a maid who was part of a syndicate because she arrived, waited 3 days to see how our house worked, took some money and walked out of the house in broad daylight when she was supposed to be watering the plants outside. The agent remains MIA to this day.

Once we took in a maid who shrieked and cheered and danced when watching the TV. It freaked my parents and sister's family so much that she was sent back after 2 days of unending woots-woots, whistlings and clappings directed to mister television.

Another time we took in a maid from Kampung Pandan who told our Bibik (my parents' maid) that she can teach Bibik the "ways" to make the men in our house bow to the maids' needs and desires. Of the "jampi"/black magic sort. Shudder! We sent her back to the agent immediately and the agent had the nerve to call us a few days later with scoldings of how the maid claimed that she was not fed and was beaten severely by us. Grrrrr.

Then there are the countless maid-stories of people surrounding us.

My cousin Jiji got conned twice in the past year by two different agents and lost a total of RM8000 before dishing out another RM5000 for a third maid from yet another different agent. So far third time's the charm but imagine the money spent.. and the heartache. Never underestimate the heartache. Sakit hati lah..

A friend of my Mom's voiced out that she could not understand how her new maid could eat so much, on and on and on.. only to discover that the maid arrived from Indon already pregnant (the doctors fibbed about this in their medical report over there), and when told that she would have to be sent back, the maid ran off leaving the family high and dry without help and thousands of ringgits down the drain.

Then there's Mira whose maid ran off too, and she suspects the maid had been abusing her 2 year-old son Emir because of the tell-tale blue-black marks he had on him.

I can go on but then we'd never stop, would we? There're just too many maid-related horror stories.

Now the Indon government wants us to let the maids hold their own passports, and have their own bank accounts into which we'd be depositing their salaries for them to handle on their own. In their own hands. And lets not forget the one day off per week. My family usually lets Bibik go home to Indonesia for 3 months each time (she goes home every 1.5 to 2 years) because Bibik never gets a day off. Already now our Bibik's telling us she has no desire for one day off per week because that would be eating into her own money, and she'd have less opportunity and time to spend back in her homeland.

So what do you think..? Do you think all these demands would really help both parties... or would they make the relationships between employers and employees more vulnerable and irritable?

For me, personally, it's like this. Wallahualam... tapi if it's soo hard, Mister Indon Minister... there's still the rest of the third world countries for us to look at. Maybe having a Sri Lankan or Cambodian maid wouldn't be so bad after all.

At Tesco Mutiara Damansara

As a Malaysian shopper, one has to constantly stand for one's rights!


Took this picture at Tesco Mutiara Damansara a while back and have been meaning to put it up. But yes, I've been neglecting this blog.. boohooo. The heart yearned to blog, but the body couldn't!! Go figure. Dunno how sometimes I just can't seem to find some good quality me-time to surf and blog.

Anyways. It seems that the sign was meant to mean.. "Limited to 4 per customer"... not "Limited to 24 units per customer". Ada ka patut????

Obviously someone made a big blunder here. Maybe that person's been sms-ing or chatting online too much. You know.. when you sms/chat you tend to shorten / abbreviate words and spellings like this.. "U tgh buatpe tu? ru goin 2 work l8er?". Well, you get my drift.

You bet I argued my case there. I'd taken 12 cans of those good stuff and I wasn't gonna pay the full price. Not when the sign clearly said 24 units. It isn't the customers' fault that they screwed it up, right?

They called the manager-on-duty and at first she didn't want to give me the discounted price. Admirably enough (woohoo angkat bakul!) I managed to NOT lose my cool. I just told her that I was terribly disappointed with Tesco and how often we shopped there, spending up to thousands of ringgits per month on groceries and misc. items. And this terribly disappointing incident was definitely going to put us off Tesco in the future. I guess that got to her somehow.. probably started her thinking about the loss of customer lifetime value and whatnot (they'd lose big bucks from our pockets alone and just imagine how many friends we'd be telling about this incident.. yes, you betcha)... and she quickly told the cashier.. "Takpe, takpe, bagi akak ni discounted price tu. Kesian dia."

Kesian ka..? Ataupun takut nanti customers lari? Huhuhuu..

Whatever it is, the bottom line is.. As a Malaysian consumer, sometimes you gotta go the distant to argue your case. Tsk tsk.