I feel for those innocent Danish diplomatic officers whose office had been torched doen by zealots. I am a PTD myself, if I were to be sent working overseas, and if somebody back home in Malaysia does something idiotic enough to cause the local people’s rage and fury, I certainly hope I won’t be the one having to pay for that. Especially if I do not agree with that particular offending act myself.
Therefore, I hope when Malaysians take their turn voicing their protest in front of the Danish Embassy in Kuala Lumpur today – it’s going to be a peaceful protest. (Of course, like everything else Malaysians do tend to be a bit slower in picking up cue from their Muslim brothers elsewhere, but) I pray that it’ll remain a peaceful show of protest till the end of it.
Friday, February 10, 2006
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
On the cartoon controversy
(* This post is dedicated to my hubby, who had expressly asked me to write my take on this issue despite knowing full well that I normally refrain from making public comment about current issues.)
Frankly I must admit that I feel that those who published the offensive cartoons have crossed the line between practicing freedom of speech and spreading hate. Right from the very beginning, the offence was not entirely unintended by the Danish newspaper editor. That's why most of the 40 cartoonists invited to send in their interpretation of the Prophet by Jylland s Posten refused to do so. They had wisely foreseen it as an intentional provocation act, what with the editor writing that Muslims in Denmark “must be prepared for insult, mockery, and ridicule”. And yes, I think the ‘support’ shown by other Western publishers could be considered as calculated act of provocation and insult, hidden behind ‘freedom of speech’ as a blanket defense. After all, the right to free speech does not exist in isolation from other values, such as respect, empathy and self-censorship.
Having said that, personally I don’t support violent reaction. Like many, I believe in more effective, peaceful acts of protest such as boycotting which at least got the Arabs an apology (albeit an insincere one) from the Danish newspaper. Nevertheless I can understand those who feel offended so strongly that has led to violence.
Consider this - how would one feel if people make fun of their loved ones? Say if one draws your parent or your child resembling a detestable figure – how would that make you feel? Remember those fights some kids have at school when others taunt them for their loved ones’ shortcomings – real or imagined?
So the display of such cartoon depicting our beloved Prophet Muhammad, the last Messenger of Allah, who we have been taught to love more than ourselves – in another writer’s words – “was nothing less than emotional torture, untamed verbal violence and intellectual terrorism.”
While we can understand that western societies do not believe in Islam, and some do not believe in God, we feel that at least they should know how to respect others. If it had been any other figures – yes we have seen Osama and other Muslim clerics been ridiculed – but it wasn't the same. We are talking about the Muslim's Rasulullah here. Rasulullah through whom Muslims learned about Allah, the One Almighty God. The chosen Messenger who had been allowed to descend up the heaven to meet up with Allah in person. Rasulullah who had then went up and down the heavens to plead for lesser quantity of mandatory prayers a day to make things easier for his followers. Rasullah who had worried about his “ummat’, his followers, till the end of his time on earth. It has been written in history that each time he came back from battles defending Islam, mothers would not asked about their sons but rather checked on Rasulullah’s condition first.
So yes - it's a very emotional issue. And as emotional creatures, people tend to be less rational when they are insulted. What more when their beloved one is insulted. And despite our weakness to live the life as good Muslims in strict adherence to the Quran and Sunnah in this modern time, apparently many still rushed blindly to do anything, even putting their own lives at risk, in order to defend Rasulullah's honor.
Some have questioned the Muslim’s sense of humor, comparing this incident with cartoons unfavorably depicting other religious figures. Still, to Muslims, insulting any prophet is a great sin – that’s why despite some daring to draw numerous anti-Semitic or anti-Christian cartoons, no Muslim will publish anything mocking Moses or Jesus, as they are also revered as prophets of Allah in Islam. One cannot attack the prophets of Allah without attacking Allah, that’s why such cartoons are unheard of among Muslims, because it’s a serious matter to Muslims.
There is no compulsion in Islam. We are not forcing others to believe what we believe in – but we do want others to respect what we believe in. Muslims could not accept any type of defamation or humiliation of any prophet and messenger. This is why we are disturbed and angry at what the Danish newspaper had published. It is Muslim’s duty to react to such denigration, as our just and fair right of defending our beloved Prophet.
But it is also Muslim’s duty to invite others to understand us, to invite others to study the life and history of our Prophet, and learn why an attack on Him is considered as an attack on Muslims, on who we are and on what we believe. That is why I feel that more dialogues and discussions should be encouraged, and for violence acts of protests to be subsided under control.
I don’t condone violent. But I can understand the rage and violent felt at those cartoons – just like I would have understand a kid punching another who insulted not him, but someone he loved dearly.
Frankly I must admit that I feel that those who published the offensive cartoons have crossed the line between practicing freedom of speech and spreading hate. Right from the very beginning, the offence was not entirely unintended by the Danish newspaper editor. That's why most of the 40 cartoonists invited to send in their interpretation of the Prophet by Jylland s Posten refused to do so. They had wisely foreseen it as an intentional provocation act, what with the editor writing that Muslims in Denmark “must be prepared for insult, mockery, and ridicule”. And yes, I think the ‘support’ shown by other Western publishers could be considered as calculated act of provocation and insult, hidden behind ‘freedom of speech’ as a blanket defense. After all, the right to free speech does not exist in isolation from other values, such as respect, empathy and self-censorship.
Having said that, personally I don’t support violent reaction. Like many, I believe in more effective, peaceful acts of protest such as boycotting which at least got the Arabs an apology (albeit an insincere one) from the Danish newspaper. Nevertheless I can understand those who feel offended so strongly that has led to violence.
Consider this - how would one feel if people make fun of their loved ones? Say if one draws your parent or your child resembling a detestable figure – how would that make you feel? Remember those fights some kids have at school when others taunt them for their loved ones’ shortcomings – real or imagined?
So the display of such cartoon depicting our beloved Prophet Muhammad, the last Messenger of Allah, who we have been taught to love more than ourselves – in another writer’s words – “was nothing less than emotional torture, untamed verbal violence and intellectual terrorism.”
While we can understand that western societies do not believe in Islam, and some do not believe in God, we feel that at least they should know how to respect others. If it had been any other figures – yes we have seen Osama and other Muslim clerics been ridiculed – but it wasn't the same. We are talking about the Muslim's Rasulullah here. Rasulullah through whom Muslims learned about Allah, the One Almighty God. The chosen Messenger who had been allowed to descend up the heaven to meet up with Allah in person. Rasulullah who had then went up and down the heavens to plead for lesser quantity of mandatory prayers a day to make things easier for his followers. Rasullah who had worried about his “ummat’, his followers, till the end of his time on earth. It has been written in history that each time he came back from battles defending Islam, mothers would not asked about their sons but rather checked on Rasulullah’s condition first.
So yes - it's a very emotional issue. And as emotional creatures, people tend to be less rational when they are insulted. What more when their beloved one is insulted. And despite our weakness to live the life as good Muslims in strict adherence to the Quran and Sunnah in this modern time, apparently many still rushed blindly to do anything, even putting their own lives at risk, in order to defend Rasulullah's honor.
Some have questioned the Muslim’s sense of humor, comparing this incident with cartoons unfavorably depicting other religious figures. Still, to Muslims, insulting any prophet is a great sin – that’s why despite some daring to draw numerous anti-Semitic or anti-Christian cartoons, no Muslim will publish anything mocking Moses or Jesus, as they are also revered as prophets of Allah in Islam. One cannot attack the prophets of Allah without attacking Allah, that’s why such cartoons are unheard of among Muslims, because it’s a serious matter to Muslims.
There is no compulsion in Islam. We are not forcing others to believe what we believe in – but we do want others to respect what we believe in. Muslims could not accept any type of defamation or humiliation of any prophet and messenger. This is why we are disturbed and angry at what the Danish newspaper had published. It is Muslim’s duty to react to such denigration, as our just and fair right of defending our beloved Prophet.
But it is also Muslim’s duty to invite others to understand us, to invite others to study the life and history of our Prophet, and learn why an attack on Him is considered as an attack on Muslims, on who we are and on what we believe. That is why I feel that more dialogues and discussions should be encouraged, and for violence acts of protests to be subsided under control.
I don’t condone violent. But I can understand the rage and violent felt at those cartoons – just like I would have understand a kid punching another who insulted not him, but someone he loved dearly.
Monday, February 06, 2006
Halal Food Shop in Tokyo
I must admit that I was surprised to learn that Adi, a Bruneian girl I met briefly just before sitting for Nihongo class placement test a few months back, found my blog during her internet search for Halal food shop in Tokyo.
So, I thought as a “community service” of some sort, here’s the guide on how to find the halal shop(s) in Shin-Okubo.
Shin-Okubo is in Shinjuku-ku, and is located between Shinjuku and Takadanobaba in the JR Yamanote line. It’s a small eki, with a single exit. There are three Halal Food shops within 3 minutes walking distance from Shin-Okubo station. There’s even a Halal restaurant within the same distance.
Right after exit, cross the road. Turn right after Matsumoto Kiyoshi pharmacy. (There’s one Halal shop on the second floor of the building on your left)
Then turn left after Family Mart convenience store. There’s Rose Family Store – a Halal food shop on your left, on top of Rung Ruen, a Thai restaurant owned by a Muslim Thai serving halal food. A few meters ahead, there’s a branch of Nasco Halal shop which also specializes in selling International prepaid calling cards. A musolla (only for men) is located at the 4th floor of the same building where Rose Family store and Rung Ruen are located, but it’s only open for men. When I needed to, I sometimes prayed at Rose Family store, whose owner allots a single place for ladies to pray at the back of the shop. But I normally shop at Nasco, which usually offers better price.
But of course, there's always the online Halal shops to consider - apart from Rose Family Store, there are;
Azhar, where one can get Tempe and rempah Adabi
Piyopiyoland, another place where Adabi stuff can be found
Sejahtera, yet another place to look for tempe
Sonali Halal Food
Tukina
to name but a few...
So, I thought as a “community service” of some sort, here’s the guide on how to find the halal shop(s) in Shin-Okubo.
Shin-Okubo is in Shinjuku-ku, and is located between Shinjuku and Takadanobaba in the JR Yamanote line. It’s a small eki, with a single exit. There are three Halal Food shops within 3 minutes walking distance from Shin-Okubo station. There’s even a Halal restaurant within the same distance.
Right after exit, cross the road. Turn right after Matsumoto Kiyoshi pharmacy. (There’s one Halal shop on the second floor of the building on your left)
Then turn left after Family Mart convenience store. There’s Rose Family Store – a Halal food shop on your left, on top of Rung Ruen, a Thai restaurant owned by a Muslim Thai serving halal food. A few meters ahead, there’s a branch of Nasco Halal shop which also specializes in selling International prepaid calling cards. A musolla (only for men) is located at the 4th floor of the same building where Rose Family store and Rung Ruen are located, but it’s only open for men. When I needed to, I sometimes prayed at Rose Family store, whose owner allots a single place for ladies to pray at the back of the shop. But I normally shop at Nasco, which usually offers better price.
But of course, there's always the online Halal shops to consider - apart from Rose Family Store, there are;
Azhar, where one can get Tempe and rempah Adabi
Piyopiyoland, another place where Adabi stuff can be found
Sejahtera, yet another place to look for tempe
Sonali Halal Food
Tukina
to name but a few...
Friday, February 03, 2006
New Year (and Setsubun)
The good thing about coming from multi-ethnical country like Malaysia is that I'm used to lots of expressions in different languages. Many of my Chinese friends in Waseda were surprised albeit very pleased, when I wished them "Xing Nian Yu Kwai, Gong Xi Fa Cai" (or San Nien Fai Lok, Kong Hei Fatt Choy in Cantonese). But since I'm in Tokyo and not working in Putrajaya I didn't get any free mandarin orange this year. A colleague reported that they got so many this year - from the Minister, this officer, that officer, blah blah blah- that she claimed anyone could have easily gotten stomachache from eating those oranges.
But what I do get this year - is lots and lots of roasted soybeans in packets. Well, Japanese are so fond of New Year that they actually celebrate three New Year. There's the Big New Year (Oshogatsu) on January 1st, the Small New Year (Koshogatsu) on January 15th and then the Setsubun, the beginning of Spring, which this year falls on February 3rd.
So, yes, I get free roasted soybeans at the Center of International Education Office in Waseda. I also get free roasted soybeans at my hostel. And yes - the Setsubun kits can be found everwhere - from large supermarkets, convenience stores and even 100 yen shops. The setsubun kits consist of a demon's mask and a bag of roasted soybeans.
As a muslim, I ushered the 1st of Muharram 1427 recently by reciting the doa awal tahun three times on the new year's eve. My baby Huzaifah had another cukur session earlier that day. Of course, that has nothing to do with ushering the new year. It just so happened that some hair has started to grow on the balding spot, commonly known as cukur bantal, on his head. So my Ayah Tam had decided to make Huzaifah's hair grows evenly by shaving his head again. Later on, I took turn chatting many cousins - all who congregated at my Ayah Jang's place in Putrajaya for a BBQ feast. Even my parents and Huzaifah were there too that night. Unfortunately there wasn't any webcam nor microphone there - so while they got to see me in my kaftan and listened to my voice, I only got to read their messages and descriptions of this and that. (To date, I have yet to see my son's new hairdo since the internet connection in Kampung Tunku is pretty bad, so hubby hasn't been able to show it off via the webcam to me.)
Anyway - here's wishing all of you a happy, prosperous and blessed new year.
But what I do get this year - is lots and lots of roasted soybeans in packets. Well, Japanese are so fond of New Year that they actually celebrate three New Year. There's the Big New Year (Oshogatsu) on January 1st, the Small New Year (Koshogatsu) on January 15th and then the Setsubun, the beginning of Spring, which this year falls on February 3rd.
So, yes, I get free roasted soybeans at the Center of International Education Office in Waseda. I also get free roasted soybeans at my hostel. And yes - the Setsubun kits can be found everwhere - from large supermarkets, convenience stores and even 100 yen shops. The setsubun kits consist of a demon's mask and a bag of roasted soybeans.
Setsubun usually involves Mame maki - a rite of throwing beans to dispel evil. It almost corresponds to the Chinese belief of making noises to chase away the demons - so I was not that surprised when I read somewhere that the Mame maki originated from a custom found in China a long long time ago. There are several stories relating to the origin of Mame maki - but I kind of like the version which involved a disguised ogre and a greedy old widow. The plot goes something like this:
One day an ogre disguised himself and went to the house of an old widow. With his magic mallet, he produced a beautiful kimono. The old widow succumbed to the beauty - and plotted to steal both the kimono and the mallet away from the ogre by getting him drunk. Surprised by the old widow's greed, the ogre revealed his true self. Stunned and scared, she got hysterical and starting throwing the first thing handy, a bunch of beans she had on hand. They must have hurt, because the ogre immediately fled away, leaving the widow without her greedy desires but nonetheless wiser and healthier.
So, now, it's common for the head of the family to don a demon's mask, and gets pelted with beans while everyone else chanted "Oni wa soto, Fuku wa uchi" (Demon out, Fortune in). Families with small children especially enjoy Mame maki due to the fun of chasing the demon around, throwing beans and gleefully shouting for the demon to go away. After that, family members will then eat the number of beans that is equivalent to his or her age, to bring good luck in the coming year.
This year, I also received a lucky bag from a Korean friend n conjunction with the New Year. The bag is filled with roasted red beans - which are to be cooked with rice and eaten for health and fortune, or so she advised. While of course the idea of eating roasted soybeans on Setsubun and roasted red beans for good luck is something that I won't buy - I enjoy eating them anyway. Think of roasted soybeans as a nicer version of kuaci minus the hassle to get rid of the skin - that's how delicious they are. As for the red beans - I'm thinking of buying more and make some bubur with them.
As a muslim, I ushered the 1st of Muharram 1427 recently by reciting the doa awal tahun three times on the new year's eve. My baby Huzaifah had another cukur session earlier that day. Of course, that has nothing to do with ushering the new year. It just so happened that some hair has started to grow on the balding spot, commonly known as cukur bantal, on his head. So my Ayah Tam had decided to make Huzaifah's hair grows evenly by shaving his head again. Later on, I took turn chatting many cousins - all who congregated at my Ayah Jang's place in Putrajaya for a BBQ feast. Even my parents and Huzaifah were there too that night. Unfortunately there wasn't any webcam nor microphone there - so while they got to see me in my kaftan and listened to my voice, I only got to read their messages and descriptions of this and that. (To date, I have yet to see my son's new hairdo since the internet connection in Kampung Tunku is pretty bad, so hubby hasn't been able to show it off via the webcam to me.)
Anyway - here's wishing all of you a happy, prosperous and blessed new year.
Wishes
First of all -
Happy (belated) New Year!
Salam Maal Hijrah
Gong Xi Fa Cai
Next – belated birthday wishes for:
Adik, who turned 25 on 22nd January this year
Syifa’, a dear cousin who turned sweet 15 this year,
Aidil, a dear high-school friend (who at one time had been Mak & Ayah’s benchmark of dutiful daughter whom I could never live up to), and
Uda @ Pak Mus, a friend-and-big-brother (not by birth but by coincidence)
who all celebrated their birthdays on 26th January
Farid, another cousin who turned 15 this year, on 31st January
Atiqah, yet another cousin who turned 15, on 2nd February
(Note: Tok got 4 grandchildren in 1991 – another being Ammar, who will turn 15 in March, insya Allah)
Wishing all of you sunshine and smile
Lots of love, joy and laughter
May all your dreams and wishes come true
And yes – the routine wishes:
Semoga dipanjangkan usia, dimurahkan rezeki, dikuatkan iman, ditingkatkan taqwa, diletakkan dalam jalanNya yang benar, dirahmati dan diberkati Allah sentiasa.
Happy belated birthday.
Happy (belated) New Year!
Salam Maal Hijrah
Gong Xi Fa Cai
Next – belated birthday wishes for:
Adik, who turned 25 on 22nd January this year
Syifa’, a dear cousin who turned sweet 15 this year,
Aidil, a dear high-school friend (who at one time had been Mak & Ayah’s benchmark of dutiful daughter whom I could never live up to), and
Uda @ Pak Mus, a friend-and-big-brother (not by birth but by coincidence)
who all celebrated their birthdays on 26th January
Farid, another cousin who turned 15 this year, on 31st January
Atiqah, yet another cousin who turned 15, on 2nd February
(Note: Tok got 4 grandchildren in 1991 – another being Ammar, who will turn 15 in March, insya Allah)
Wishing all of you sunshine and smile
Lots of love, joy and laughter
May all your dreams and wishes come true
And yes – the routine wishes:
Semoga dipanjangkan usia, dimurahkan rezeki, dikuatkan iman, ditingkatkan taqwa, diletakkan dalam jalanNya yang benar, dirahmati dan diberkati Allah sentiasa.
Happy belated birthday.
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Yuki!
This was the view that greeted my morning last Saturday, when snow hit Tokyo for the first time during this particularly harsh winter. Upon seeing the snowfall, I was immediately reminded of how jakun I was the first time I experienced snow in Leeds in 1996. I called Malaysia just to tell Mak that it was snowing. I could sensed Mak's smile on the other end of the phone at the display of such jakunness. But such was the magic of the first snow experience - it was capable to turn an adult into a kid anytime...
I am not sure what is so magical about this stuff that has caused so many death, so many accidents, flight delays, even shinkansen delay in Japan - but I must admit that I am one of those who will try to catch a flake of snow using my mouth when I thought nobody was looking.
This was how serene my hostel looked when its front was covered with featherlike cottony soft sprays of snow.
The lines of Gingko trees in front of the hostel, when covered in snow - looked very much the picture of a winter wonderland.
Not quite used to the Japanese way, I went out that morning without carrying any umbrella. I soon saw most Nihonjin carrying umbrella to cover themselves in the snow. Back in UK, I used to just put on my hood. But this time around, my winter jacket has no hood. And Tokyo snow was very wet - almost akin to raindrops. Since I had to go to Gyotoku, in Chiba, to do some house-hunting, I ended up buying an umbrella at the 100 yen shop there. This photo was taken in the otherwise very bare park in Gyotoku.
That 'cottage' in the background is actually the park's public restroom. But it does look good in the photo, doesn't it?
Perhaps due to all day long snowfall on Saturday, clearing the sky of most clouds, Sunday morning was bright and cheerful. Tokyo downtown had seen its highest snow - 10cm - since 1998. If I'm not mistaken, Mito in Ibaraki prefecture got its heaviest January snow since 1909 - 17cm, while Yokohama (10cm) and Chiba (9 cm) got their heaviest since 2001.
Since the snow was still almost fresh that sunday morning, I made up my mind to play in the snow and take some snow photos.
Photos like this.
I joined some Nihonjin kids playing snowball in the park - not for long because the kids preferred making a Nihonjin oniisan (big brother) as their target than the alien oneesan (older sister) . I also leaned how to make a good snowman - a skill I hope I can use one day with Huzaifah in presence. I joined my Resident Assistant - a PhD student and her friend when she declared that they were going out to make a yukidaruma.
45 minutes later, more people joined us, as we had built a very big yukidaruma. The head had to be lifted by 4 male adults due to its heaviness. Only then we started working on making it all white, and adding little 'accessories' - the eyes, smile, hair, hand - one guy even labeled its name, Shiguko in katakana using grass.
One for the album - the creators with Shiguko, a 'real' yukidaruma, or so proclaimed the Resident Assistant who has been making yukidaruma since she was a small child somewhere in the northern part of Japan.
An upgraded Shiguko - with mikan (mandarin oranges) as her eyes.
Photo taken on Monday morning - remnants of winter wonderland scene.
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
This day a week ago - 2
When I tried to check in – I was asked to lessen the content of my luggage. The guy behind the counter called someone else and I was told that they could waive up until 5kg excess baggage, but no more. I didn’t know what was on his mind, but Ayah even weighed the cabin luggage (which was how I knew it weighed 18kg) and we were told that normally they only allowed cabin luggage not weighing more than 7kg. Ayah glared at me, but hey, who asked him to check the weight of the cabin luggage? I already knew beforehand that my cabin luggage was heavy, I asked him not to weigh it at the check-in counter but Ayah did it anyway. Even Mak asked him – what was on his mind when he did so despite me asking him not to?
So, I took my luggage away, tried to figure out what I could take out to lessen the weight by 5kg. Alhamdulillah, I met Ayu and Mani, two girls doing Nihongo teaching course in Shinjuku. Mak asked me to ask them if I could join them for a group check in. Ayu warmly welcomed me to do so, but explained to me that she was actually waiting for more Nihongo teaching coursemates for a group check-in. So, I joined them – Ayu, Mani, Rosman, Zaki and another guy whose name I have forgotten – for a group check in, hoping that my excess baggage could be covered by doing so. Unfortunately, despite giving all of us a provision of 25kg each (instead of the normal 20kg for Economy class passenger), there was still excess baggage of 30kg. The boys negotiated, and after some consultation the guy behind the counter agreed to allow another 15kg. Ayu ended up having to take away her heavier bag (one bag weighed only 8kg, the heavier one 15kg) to save us all from having to pay any excess baggage charges. In return of her kindness, one of the guys agreed to carry her bag. But alas, he only carried it to the waiting area before we boarded our flight. After that the bag was returned to Ayu. I felt a bit helpless because my own cabin luggage was heavy. If I did not carry anything else, I would have gladly carried Ayu’s bag – she was the only one among us whose luggage weighed less than 25kg, yet she took away her bag to save the rest of us from having to pay excess baggage charges. But none of her male friends were gentleman enough to carry her bag for her all the way to Tokyo in return of her kindness…
Anyway – there was a small drama at the airport. Regarding stuff sent from Tokyo which failed to be delivered to the rightful owner in Malaysia, and stuff from Malaysia meant to be sent to Tokyo but failed to be so. I won’t delve deeply in it since I had no part in it at all. But for me, it was a lesson to be very responsible if anybody were to ask me to deliver things to anybody in Malaysia. It was a pity really – due to miscommunications, misunderstanding and not taking responsibilities seriously.
For me personally, the hardest moment was when my baby decided to wail just before I bid my final farewell at the end of the departure gate. The immigration officer who checked my boarding pass asked me – “Tak bawak anak ye?”, to which I nodded weakly. “Padanla dia menangis macam tu. Macam tahu-tahu je Mak dia nak kene pegi jauh ye”. By then I could not control my tears anymore, so I just steadfastly walked away knowing that it would be even harder to walk away should I turned back and look at my crying son. Fortunately, his wailing subsided after a while, and hubby managed to shout at me from the waiting area, when I was already down the escalator, holding baby up and waved at me in peace.
Saying good bye to my son had never been easy. It was even more difficult the second time around.
So, I took my luggage away, tried to figure out what I could take out to lessen the weight by 5kg. Alhamdulillah, I met Ayu and Mani, two girls doing Nihongo teaching course in Shinjuku. Mak asked me to ask them if I could join them for a group check in. Ayu warmly welcomed me to do so, but explained to me that she was actually waiting for more Nihongo teaching coursemates for a group check-in. So, I joined them – Ayu, Mani, Rosman, Zaki and another guy whose name I have forgotten – for a group check in, hoping that my excess baggage could be covered by doing so. Unfortunately, despite giving all of us a provision of 25kg each (instead of the normal 20kg for Economy class passenger), there was still excess baggage of 30kg. The boys negotiated, and after some consultation the guy behind the counter agreed to allow another 15kg. Ayu ended up having to take away her heavier bag (one bag weighed only 8kg, the heavier one 15kg) to save us all from having to pay any excess baggage charges. In return of her kindness, one of the guys agreed to carry her bag. But alas, he only carried it to the waiting area before we boarded our flight. After that the bag was returned to Ayu. I felt a bit helpless because my own cabin luggage was heavy. If I did not carry anything else, I would have gladly carried Ayu’s bag – she was the only one among us whose luggage weighed less than 25kg, yet she took away her bag to save the rest of us from having to pay excess baggage charges. But none of her male friends were gentleman enough to carry her bag for her all the way to Tokyo in return of her kindness…
Anyway – there was a small drama at the airport. Regarding stuff sent from Tokyo which failed to be delivered to the rightful owner in Malaysia, and stuff from Malaysia meant to be sent to Tokyo but failed to be so. I won’t delve deeply in it since I had no part in it at all. But for me, it was a lesson to be very responsible if anybody were to ask me to deliver things to anybody in Malaysia. It was a pity really – due to miscommunications, misunderstanding and not taking responsibilities seriously.
For me personally, the hardest moment was when my baby decided to wail just before I bid my final farewell at the end of the departure gate. The immigration officer who checked my boarding pass asked me – “Tak bawak anak ye?”, to which I nodded weakly. “Padanla dia menangis macam tu. Macam tahu-tahu je Mak dia nak kene pegi jauh ye”. By then I could not control my tears anymore, so I just steadfastly walked away knowing that it would be even harder to walk away should I turned back and look at my crying son. Fortunately, his wailing subsided after a while, and hubby managed to shout at me from the waiting area, when I was already down the escalator, holding baby up and waved at me in peace.
Saying good bye to my son had never been easy. It was even more difficult the second time around.
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
This day a week ago
This day a week ago, I was in Malaysia. Celebrating Eid with my husband and my son for the first time.
We wore similar coloured outfits in light blue. Hubby and I wore our wedding outfits actually. While both of us had gained some weight over the past year, alhamdulillah, we were still able to wear our wedding outfit. It’s quite a feat for someone who just gave birth about 4 months back too. Anyway – yes, I’m pleased to share that I could wear my old clothes. I haven’t lose all the additional weight gained during pregnancy, but since the old clothes fit well, I guess I must have shed some…
We wore similar coloured outfits in light blue. Hubby and I wore our wedding outfits actually. While both of us had gained some weight over the past year, alhamdulillah, we were still able to wear our wedding outfit. It’s quite a feat for someone who just gave birth about 4 months back too. Anyway – yes, I’m pleased to share that I could wear my old clothes. I haven’t lose all the additional weight gained during pregnancy, but since the old clothes fit well, I guess I must have shed some…
It was a hectic day. Hubby wanted to spend the night before Eid in Rasah, but Mak had asked me to prepare Mee Bandung on Eid morning, so we ended up going back to Rasah after Eid prayer. Meera, my half-sister spent the Eid with Mak and Ayah, since she didn’t go back to Jitra to spend Eid with her Tok. I didn’t take her along to Rasah because I knew she would rather be with my parents since she would be meeting my uncles, aunts and cousins – people she’s already familiar with. To my cousins, Meera is almost like a distant cousin, not merely my half-sister. She gets along well with pretty much everybody. That’s my sis!
Anyway – despite it being Eid ul Adha and not Eid ul Fitri – it was a busy Eid. So many people to visit! And I was scheduled to fly back to Tokyo on that very night. Alhamdulillah, I already had my suitcases packed and everything ready at the back of my car before I went back to Rasah. So after Asar, hubby drove us straight to Putrajaya to visit Tok and join the family gathering there.
Mak insisted on us going to KLIA right after Maghrib – so by 8.00 we were ready to leave in two cars. Abang, my brother, and Syahril, my newly-wedded cousin, met us at the airport to see me off.
Understandably – what with the Milo, kopi Hang Tuah, ikan bilis and what nots – my suitcases were very heavy. The main luggage weighed about 30 kg, while the cabin luggage about 18kg.
Have to go now. To be continued.
Saturday, January 14, 2006
Back again
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.
Three weeks flew just like that when one was having fun. But what I had was not all fun. It was unexpected – the level of hostility I had to face, coming from people I’m powerless to wage war with. But let’s not delve in that. Let’s just say that right now I’m trying my best to overcome this problem I have at hand, and I welcome all the doa you could muster for me.
It’s even more difficult for me to leave my baby for the second time. But I’m thankful that while we were together, we bonded strongly. Alhamdulillah, we were both given a chance to bond again by breastfeeding. I know – it had been three months – I thought there were no more breastmilk to spare. But as it happened, right after Huzaifah suckled on them, I started having breastmilk again. Not as much as it used to be – but enough for me to comfort him when he started meragam for no reason. And enough for me to feel that closeness exclusively experienced by nursing mothers and the babies in their arms.
Huzaifah did not gained as much weight in his fourth month as he did previously. Partly due to his lower intake of formula milk once he started breastfeeding again, partly due to him being more active right now. He doesn’t like being put in one’s lap in a sleeping position (unless for breastfeeding session), he would lift his head and shoulder, indicating he wants to change the position. He prefers being fed using the bottle in an almost sitting position in an adult’s lap. He could roll himself over from his back to his front, but he still has some trouble controlling his arms movement, so he hasn’t been able to properly meniarap just yet.
And I can almost swear that he has started teething, although I’m very much aware of the fact that the first tooth normally only surface after 5 - 7 months. He drools a lot, and he puts everything he’s able to grab in his mouth. He even opened his mouth wide everytime we try to get him to kiss our cheeks, so we always end up getting drools on our cheeks.
Ayah wants us to develop his potentials in languages early so we are using different languages in communicating with him. I speak to him in Bahasa, English and Nihongo. Hubby speaks to him in Arabic. Both Mak and Ayah speaks to him in Bahasa and English. Some people pointed out to me that we should probably use just one language so as not to confuse him. But I’ve read somewhere that research links higher intelligence to how many words a child hears in the first year of life, so verbal stimulation is especially important right now. He may not be able to repeat these words yet, but he's storing all the information in his rapidly developing memory.
So I try to set a sound foundation by exposing Huzaifah to a variety of words. I would tell him about the colors of cars passing us by in Nihongo when we were on the road, and his father would repeat the same thing in Arabic. I would describe to him what colors the flowers are, how tall the trees are, how long the leaves are and how small or big a tree is when we are in a garden. I would point to and identify objects in Nihongo or English as we play in the bedroom, in the living room or anywhere. Some might say that we are pushing him too early. But hey, if I don’t try sowing anything, I won’t be able to harvest anything, right?
Yes, it was the best of times – being able to just be with my son.
And I managed to do lots of those listed on my to-do list. I even met up with a long lost childhood friend when we attended my cousin’s wedding in Kedah. I used to stop by his house on my way back home from school. I spent so much time at his place that my Tok would go to his place if I still had not returned home in late evenings. Ajim now is married with a 2-year old boy. It was our first meeting after about 20 years – but we could still recognize each other easily. Hey, even his mother asked me if I still recognized her, and I did. I did not recognized his much older sister (though I recognized his elder sister, who I also used to play with). Still, it was good seeing them again even if the meeting was by mere chance.
I met up with some friends. Dropped by my old office to collect some mail as well as to greet my friends there quickly. Stopped by Jue’s office to say hi to her, but I have yet to meet her baby in person. Jue is also contemplating furthering her studies in Japan – so there’s hope for me yet. Initially I wanted to join an all-girls slumber party, but changed my mind since Huzaifah has some trouble adjusting to new place and I don’t want to miss even one night being away from him. But I managed to meet up with the girls. Zurr, Sal, Roza, Nurul, Nazrah – thanks for cooking such delicious dishes, sorry for all the trouble and sorry for not being able to be there earlier.
And I would like to take this opportunity to thank you too Nisah, for your warm welcome, kindness and hospitality. Thanks for recording our first meeting in your English blog. We’ll meet again, insya Allah. Thanks for your support – and please thank both your husband and your father for their encouraging words on my behalf too.
Three weeks flew just like that when one was having fun. But what I had was not all fun. It was unexpected – the level of hostility I had to face, coming from people I’m powerless to wage war with. But let’s not delve in that. Let’s just say that right now I’m trying my best to overcome this problem I have at hand, and I welcome all the doa you could muster for me.
It’s even more difficult for me to leave my baby for the second time. But I’m thankful that while we were together, we bonded strongly. Alhamdulillah, we were both given a chance to bond again by breastfeeding. I know – it had been three months – I thought there were no more breastmilk to spare. But as it happened, right after Huzaifah suckled on them, I started having breastmilk again. Not as much as it used to be – but enough for me to comfort him when he started meragam for no reason. And enough for me to feel that closeness exclusively experienced by nursing mothers and the babies in their arms.
Huzaifah did not gained as much weight in his fourth month as he did previously. Partly due to his lower intake of formula milk once he started breastfeeding again, partly due to him being more active right now. He doesn’t like being put in one’s lap in a sleeping position (unless for breastfeeding session), he would lift his head and shoulder, indicating he wants to change the position. He prefers being fed using the bottle in an almost sitting position in an adult’s lap. He could roll himself over from his back to his front, but he still has some trouble controlling his arms movement, so he hasn’t been able to properly meniarap just yet.
And I can almost swear that he has started teething, although I’m very much aware of the fact that the first tooth normally only surface after 5 - 7 months. He drools a lot, and he puts everything he’s able to grab in his mouth. He even opened his mouth wide everytime we try to get him to kiss our cheeks, so we always end up getting drools on our cheeks.
Ayah wants us to develop his potentials in languages early so we are using different languages in communicating with him. I speak to him in Bahasa, English and Nihongo. Hubby speaks to him in Arabic. Both Mak and Ayah speaks to him in Bahasa and English. Some people pointed out to me that we should probably use just one language so as not to confuse him. But I’ve read somewhere that research links higher intelligence to how many words a child hears in the first year of life, so verbal stimulation is especially important right now. He may not be able to repeat these words yet, but he's storing all the information in his rapidly developing memory.
So I try to set a sound foundation by exposing Huzaifah to a variety of words. I would tell him about the colors of cars passing us by in Nihongo when we were on the road, and his father would repeat the same thing in Arabic. I would describe to him what colors the flowers are, how tall the trees are, how long the leaves are and how small or big a tree is when we are in a garden. I would point to and identify objects in Nihongo or English as we play in the bedroom, in the living room or anywhere. Some might say that we are pushing him too early. But hey, if I don’t try sowing anything, I won’t be able to harvest anything, right?
Yes, it was the best of times – being able to just be with my son.
And I managed to do lots of those listed on my to-do list. I even met up with a long lost childhood friend when we attended my cousin’s wedding in Kedah. I used to stop by his house on my way back home from school. I spent so much time at his place that my Tok would go to his place if I still had not returned home in late evenings. Ajim now is married with a 2-year old boy. It was our first meeting after about 20 years – but we could still recognize each other easily. Hey, even his mother asked me if I still recognized her, and I did. I did not recognized his much older sister (though I recognized his elder sister, who I also used to play with). Still, it was good seeing them again even if the meeting was by mere chance.
I met up with some friends. Dropped by my old office to collect some mail as well as to greet my friends there quickly. Stopped by Jue’s office to say hi to her, but I have yet to meet her baby in person. Jue is also contemplating furthering her studies in Japan – so there’s hope for me yet. Initially I wanted to join an all-girls slumber party, but changed my mind since Huzaifah has some trouble adjusting to new place and I don’t want to miss even one night being away from him. But I managed to meet up with the girls. Zurr, Sal, Roza, Nurul, Nazrah – thanks for cooking such delicious dishes, sorry for all the trouble and sorry for not being able to be there earlier.
And I would like to take this opportunity to thank you too Nisah, for your warm welcome, kindness and hospitality. Thanks for recording our first meeting in your English blog. We’ll meet again, insya Allah. Thanks for your support – and please thank both your husband and your father for their encouraging words on my behalf too.
I often missed Ira and Afaf – two persons I know who enjoy Japanese dorama – everytime I get to watch some interesting Japanese dorama here. So, when Ira came to visit me and baby, I advised her to get a copy of Hana Yori Dango and Nobuta Wo Produce dorama set in CD. Both were a big hit last season – although I was not a big fan of the Taiwan-produced Meteor Garden, I really enjoyed Hana Yori Dango - the Japanese version of Meteor Garden. I was told that the Taiwan-produced Meteor Garden was based on Hana Yori Dango manga (comic), but the Japanese dorama resembles the manga better than the Taiwan-produced drama. As for Nobuta wo Produce, I was attracted to it because Faizly had introduced to me the theme song – Seishun Amigo by Shuji & Akira – and the song, I must admit, is very very infectious. The drama itself is kinda interesting although the storyline is quite old (2 boys trying to change a wayward girl into a popular one)
Oh by the by – I would advise friends in Kuala Lumpur to go and give the Beard Papa’s cream puffs a try. There’s one stall in Midvalley, LG which used to be Dairy King ice cream stall. The cream puffs found there are similar to the famous Beard Papa cream puffs available in Japan. So, what’s the big deal about cream puffs, huh? These ones contain no preservatives and made with good quality ingredients. It’s crunchy on the outside, ice cold in the inside, and nothing beats the fresh whipped custard cream taste. And for those who yearn to listen to some nihongo – the girls who waited on me ordered the cream puffs in nihongo. The cashier thanked me in nihongo too. Ahh… ii kimochi datta!
By the way - Jem, if you are reading this - I have brought back cendol and Ayam brand santan especially for you. But I saw that your blog is having some kind of problem and thus could not notify you there. Please contact me via e-mail to advise me on how to pass them over to you, okay?
Enough for now. Will write more later, insya Allah.
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
Five Things...
(with apology to K.I. Yes, I know, this is more your style than mine...)
This time tomorrow insya Allah I'll be in Malaysia. This might be the last entry I post from Japan for this year. So, here's some short notes on a few stuff..
Five things I look forward to...
Meeting/hugging/kissing/spoiling Huzaifah
Spending quality time with both hubby and son
Spending quality time with the rest of the family
Visiting and spending time with friends
Cooking lesson from my mother in law
Khairil's newborn son, Ahmad Hazim. Looking forward to visit this little boy and his elder siblings
Husna, Jue's not-so-new baby, another baby I would very much like to visit. (Note to self - no, don't ask for her hand as yet for Huzaifah... Mada, mada....)
Five things I would like to eat while I'm back in Malaysia...
McDonald's Big Mac Value Meal set (yes, this have something to do with the fact that I have to pass the McDonald's outlet with really, really tempting fried potato smell every day in front of the station near my dorm)
Laksa
Sambal udang
Daging dendeng
Secret Recipe's yoghurt cheese cake
Five things I bought as o-miyage
Baby Gap bodysuits
Summer yukata
Cuff link and tie pin set
Souvenir t-shirts with Kanji character
Okashi (chocolate and sweets)
This is for my son
These are for close family members
And these for everybody else
Five things I have to do (whether or not I like it)
Write my report
Prepare for a presentation
Nihongo fuyu yasumi shukudai (homework for the winter break)
Five things I'm going to miss while I'm in Malaysia
Tenya (I am a self-confessed Tenya's Tendon addict)
Lunch breaks with Hien-san and Savitri-san
Nihongo Ichi
Nice pak guard and his greetings ("Ohayo", "Iterasshai", "Tadaima"... which all helped me developing some sense of belonging)
24/7 reliable Internet access
Hien-san and her famous haru maki (Vietnamese food)
Savitri-san and me with typical Nihonjin pose
Yasashii ojisan
So, chances are I'll be on hiatus for a while. I'll update my blog if it's possible to do so while I'm back. But if I don't get to do so - see you next year, insya Allah.
This time tomorrow insya Allah I'll be in Malaysia. This might be the last entry I post from Japan for this year. So, here's some short notes on a few stuff..
Five things I look forward to...
Meeting/hugging/kissing/spoiling Huzaifah
Spending quality time with both hubby and son
Spending quality time with the rest of the family
Visiting and spending time with friends
Cooking lesson from my mother in law
Khairil's newborn son, Ahmad Hazim. Looking forward to visit this little boy and his elder siblings
Husna, Jue's not-so-new baby, another baby I would very much like to visit. (Note to self - no, don't ask for her hand as yet for Huzaifah... Mada, mada....)
Five things I would like to eat while I'm back in Malaysia...
McDonald's Big Mac Value Meal set (yes, this have something to do with the fact that I have to pass the McDonald's outlet with really, really tempting fried potato smell every day in front of the station near my dorm)
Laksa
Sambal udang
Daging dendeng
Secret Recipe's yoghurt cheese cake
Five things I bought as o-miyage
Baby Gap bodysuits
Summer yukata
Cuff link and tie pin set
Souvenir t-shirts with Kanji character
Okashi (chocolate and sweets)
This is for my son
These are for close family members
And these for everybody else
Five things I have to do (whether or not I like it)
Take Huzaifah to visit my biological mother
Conduct interviewsWrite my report
Prepare for a presentation
Nihongo fuyu yasumi shukudai (homework for the winter break)
Five things I'm going to miss while I'm in Malaysia
Tenya (I am a self-confessed Tenya's Tendon addict)
Lunch breaks with Hien-san and Savitri-san
Nihongo Ichi
Nice pak guard and his greetings ("Ohayo", "Iterasshai", "Tadaima"... which all helped me developing some sense of belonging)
24/7 reliable Internet access
Hien-san and her famous haru maki (Vietnamese food)
Savitri-san and me with typical Nihonjin pose
Yasashii ojisan
So, chances are I'll be on hiatus for a while. I'll update my blog if it's possible to do so while I'm back. But if I don't get to do so - see you next year, insya Allah.
Nengajoo
It’s interesting how our sensei try to let us experience the Japanese custom while we are learning Nihongo. Since o-shogatsu (New Year) is coming soon and it’s a common practice for Japanese to send out nengajoo to family, friends and acquaintances, the students of Nihongo Ichi are also given a chance to experience this custom ourselves. We are given two nengajoo each, one for our own classmate, and another for a Nihonjin friend.
First, each and every of us were asked to write our own address on the front of the card. Sensei collected all card and these cards will be randomly distributed, so that each of us would be receiving a card from somebody from the class. Since I won’t be attending the class tomorrow, I’d already gotten mine and had already submitted it to Shin sensei today. It just so happened that I got to write to Hien-san, a Vietnamese girl I’ve grown quite close to since the very beginning of the class. Hien is my age and has two sons aged 6 and 5 she left under her parents’ care in Hanoi. She had been really helpful during the first few weeks when I was still in my confinement period. She even helped carrying my bag at times when she noticed I was extra tired. So, it was easy writing to her – expressing my gratitude for her friendship and all her assistance as well as expressing my hope for a long lasting friendship.
Instead of just one more nengajoo for a Nihonjin friend, I got two. I chose to write to Yohei-san and Mori-chan, two volunteers in Nihongo Ichi class on Thursday and Wednesday respectively. Yohei-san was actually a later addition to Kawaguchi sensei’s list of volunteers in Nihongo Ichi class, but he has become a good friend of some sort, taking note when I was absent from class and even remember Huzaifah’s name.
Mori-chan, on the other hand, had been with us since the early days when we were still trying to remember counting one to ten in nihongo. She has a cheerful personality, a charming disposition and a cute face – so much so that I believe she’ll be one of the top recipient of nengajoo from Nihongo Ichi students.
Nengajoo is perhaps the most important and popular greeting cards in Japan. The ones given by sensei to us are the postcards sold at the post office. There are many different types of cards sold everywhere – stationary shops, 100 yen shops, even konbini. Since the coming year is going to be the year of dog according to the Japanese calendar, nengajoo with Snoopy as its main picture is tremendously popular this year.
There are some basic rules about writing nengajoo – which is well explained here. I however do not conform to the normal practice of drawing the animal-of-the-year on my nengajoo. Instead, with the help of a friend, I have roaster on mine – hopefully the recipient of my cards will take that as a sign of saying sayounara to the year of the roaster.
First, each and every of us were asked to write our own address on the front of the card. Sensei collected all card and these cards will be randomly distributed, so that each of us would be receiving a card from somebody from the class. Since I won’t be attending the class tomorrow, I’d already gotten mine and had already submitted it to Shin sensei today. It just so happened that I got to write to Hien-san, a Vietnamese girl I’ve grown quite close to since the very beginning of the class. Hien is my age and has two sons aged 6 and 5 she left under her parents’ care in Hanoi. She had been really helpful during the first few weeks when I was still in my confinement period. She even helped carrying my bag at times when she noticed I was extra tired. So, it was easy writing to her – expressing my gratitude for her friendship and all her assistance as well as expressing my hope for a long lasting friendship.
Instead of just one more nengajoo for a Nihonjin friend, I got two. I chose to write to Yohei-san and Mori-chan, two volunteers in Nihongo Ichi class on Thursday and Wednesday respectively. Yohei-san was actually a later addition to Kawaguchi sensei’s list of volunteers in Nihongo Ichi class, but he has become a good friend of some sort, taking note when I was absent from class and even remember Huzaifah’s name.
Mori-chan, on the other hand, had been with us since the early days when we were still trying to remember counting one to ten in nihongo. She has a cheerful personality, a charming disposition and a cute face – so much so that I believe she’ll be one of the top recipient of nengajoo from Nihongo Ichi students.
Nengajoo is perhaps the most important and popular greeting cards in Japan. The ones given by sensei to us are the postcards sold at the post office. There are many different types of cards sold everywhere – stationary shops, 100 yen shops, even konbini. Since the coming year is going to be the year of dog according to the Japanese calendar, nengajoo with Snoopy as its main picture is tremendously popular this year.
There are some basic rules about writing nengajoo – which is well explained here. I however do not conform to the normal practice of drawing the animal-of-the-year on my nengajoo. Instead, with the help of a friend, I have roaster on mine – hopefully the recipient of my cards will take that as a sign of saying sayounara to the year of the roaster.
Minna san - yoi otoshi o kudasai! (Have a good year everybody)
Monday, December 19, 2005
Watashi No Shumi
3 bulan. Sudah. Belajar bahasa jepun. Dalam. Kelas Nihongo Ichi.
Esok. Kali pertama. Pengucapan awam. Nihongo.
Walau. Masih tergagap-gagap. Tiada pilihan. Mesti!
3 minit. Pilih 1 antara 3 tajuk. Keluarga Saya. Negara Saya. Hobi Saya.
Aku pilih. No 3. Watashi no shumi.
Dan inilah. Yang akan dicecehkan. Di hadapan. Kelas Nihongo Ichi
"Watashi no shumi
Watashi no shumi wa shashin o torukoto to yama ni noborukoto des.
Mareeshia de iro iro na yama e nobori ni ikimashita.
Ni jyu hassai no toki tounam Ajia no ichiban takai yama, Kinabaru-san ni noborimashita.
Kinabaru-san wa totemo kirei na yama desuga samukatta des.
Watashi wa takusan shashin o torimashita. Hito ya ki ya hana no shashin o torimashita.
Tomodachi ni shashin o urimashitakara takusan okane o moraimashita.
Watashi no otto no shumi mo shashin o torukoto des.
Yasumi no hi isshoni futari de iro iro na tokoro e itte, shashin o torimashita.
Musuko o unda ato wa musuko no shashin o takusan torimashita.
Demo hountou wa amari jouzu ja arimasen.
Watashi wa shashin o miruno mo sukides.
Intaanetto de yoku fotopeijes o mimas.
Shashin o miru no wa tanoshiinode mai shuu sukina no to atarashii no to o mimas.
Nihon de watashi wa Fuji-san e nobori ni ikitai des.
Fuji-san no ichiban ue no yuki no shashin o toritai des.
Rainen kazoku ga Nihon e kita toki tabun otto to isshoni Fuji-san ni nobottari shashin o tottari shimas.
Ijou des.
Arigatou gozaimashita."
Dan inilah. Terjemahan. Pengucapan awam. Yang akan dicecehkan. Lambat-lambat.
Agar. Cukup. 3 minit.
"Hobi saya
Hobi saya ialah mengambil gambar dan mendaki gunung.
Di Malaysia banyak gunung yang telah dipanjat.
Sewaktu berusia 28 tahun, gunung tertinggi Asia Tenggara, Gunung Kinabalu, telah didaki.
Gunung Kinabalu ialah gunung yang sangat cantik tetapi sangat sejuk.
Saya telah mengambil banyak gambar. Gambar orang, gambar pokok, gambar bunga.
Gambar-gambar telah dijual kepada kawan-kawan, jadi banyak wang yang diterima.
Hobi suami saya juga mengambil gambar.
Pada hari cuti kami berdua bersama-sama pergi ke merata tempat dan mengambil gambar.
Selepas anak lelaki kami dilahirkan, banyak gambar anak yang ditangkap.
Tetapi sebenarnya kami tidaklah pandai sangat mengambil gambar.
Saya juga suka melihat gambar.
Di Internet, selalu melihat Fotopages.
Kerana melihat gambar menyeronokkan, setiap minggu Fotopages kesukaan dan yang baru akan dilihat.
Di Jepun saya ingin pergi mendaki Gunung Fuji.
Saya ingin menangkap gambar salji di puncak Gunung Fuji.
Tahun depan selepas keluarga saya datang ke Jepun, mungkin saya dan suami akan bersama-sama ke Gunung Fuji, mendaki dan menangkap gambar.
Sekian, terima kasih."
Esok. Kali pertama. Pengucapan awam. Nihongo.
Walau. Masih tergagap-gagap. Tiada pilihan. Mesti!
3 minit. Pilih 1 antara 3 tajuk. Keluarga Saya. Negara Saya. Hobi Saya.
Aku pilih. No 3. Watashi no shumi.
Dan inilah. Yang akan dicecehkan. Di hadapan. Kelas Nihongo Ichi
"Watashi no shumi
Watashi no shumi wa shashin o torukoto to yama ni noborukoto des.
Mareeshia de iro iro na yama e nobori ni ikimashita.
Ni jyu hassai no toki tounam Ajia no ichiban takai yama, Kinabaru-san ni noborimashita.
Kinabaru-san wa totemo kirei na yama desuga samukatta des.
Watashi wa takusan shashin o torimashita. Hito ya ki ya hana no shashin o torimashita.
Tomodachi ni shashin o urimashitakara takusan okane o moraimashita.
Watashi no otto no shumi mo shashin o torukoto des.
Yasumi no hi isshoni futari de iro iro na tokoro e itte, shashin o torimashita.
Musuko o unda ato wa musuko no shashin o takusan torimashita.
Demo hountou wa amari jouzu ja arimasen.
Watashi wa shashin o miruno mo sukides.
Intaanetto de yoku fotopeijes o mimas.
Shashin o miru no wa tanoshiinode mai shuu sukina no to atarashii no to o mimas.
Nihon de watashi wa Fuji-san e nobori ni ikitai des.
Fuji-san no ichiban ue no yuki no shashin o toritai des.
Rainen kazoku ga Nihon e kita toki tabun otto to isshoni Fuji-san ni nobottari shashin o tottari shimas.
Ijou des.
Arigatou gozaimashita."
Dan inilah. Terjemahan. Pengucapan awam. Yang akan dicecehkan. Lambat-lambat.
Agar. Cukup. 3 minit.
"Hobi saya
Hobi saya ialah mengambil gambar dan mendaki gunung.
Di Malaysia banyak gunung yang telah dipanjat.
Sewaktu berusia 28 tahun, gunung tertinggi Asia Tenggara, Gunung Kinabalu, telah didaki.
Gunung Kinabalu ialah gunung yang sangat cantik tetapi sangat sejuk.
Saya telah mengambil banyak gambar. Gambar orang, gambar pokok, gambar bunga.
Gambar-gambar telah dijual kepada kawan-kawan, jadi banyak wang yang diterima.
Hobi suami saya juga mengambil gambar.
Pada hari cuti kami berdua bersama-sama pergi ke merata tempat dan mengambil gambar.
Selepas anak lelaki kami dilahirkan, banyak gambar anak yang ditangkap.
Tetapi sebenarnya kami tidaklah pandai sangat mengambil gambar.
Saya juga suka melihat gambar.
Di Internet, selalu melihat Fotopages.
Kerana melihat gambar menyeronokkan, setiap minggu Fotopages kesukaan dan yang baru akan dilihat.
Di Jepun saya ingin pergi mendaki Gunung Fuji.
Saya ingin menangkap gambar salji di puncak Gunung Fuji.
Tahun depan selepas keluarga saya datang ke Jepun, mungkin saya dan suami akan bersama-sama ke Gunung Fuji, mendaki dan menangkap gambar.
Sekian, terima kasih."
Help!
It’s not all play and vacation time for me when I go back to Malaysia during this fuyu yasumi (winter break). I need to work on a few term papers. One of them is on childbirth or pregnancy.
As of now – I haven’t make up my mind firmly whether to discuss the advantages and disadvantages of childbirth in public vs. private hospital; or to discuss the reliance on midwife as authoritative knowledge in childbirth; or to talk about the role of a husband as main support during pregnancy and childbirth.
I need help – on deciding what to write about and related questions to ask. It’ll be a qualitative mini research rather than a quantative one, getting as much personal voice as possible based on personal experiences.
Any idea?
As of now – I haven’t make up my mind firmly whether to discuss the advantages and disadvantages of childbirth in public vs. private hospital; or to discuss the reliance on midwife as authoritative knowledge in childbirth; or to talk about the role of a husband as main support during pregnancy and childbirth.
I need help – on deciding what to write about and related questions to ask. It’ll be a qualitative mini research rather than a quantative one, getting as much personal voice as possible based on personal experiences.
Any idea?
A note of thanks
I recently got in touch with an old colleague. A fellow student when I was in UK, she’s now a mother-of-3 who’s working hard to get her PhD in London,,, err Bristol actually...
It was a pleasure to get in touch again, especially after learning that she too has a tough time managing being a wife, a mother and a student. I told her that perhaps a lot of readers could have benefited from her stories if she had chosen to be a blogger. She dismissed it off – “it’s too glamorous for me,” or so she declared. I told her that she could always remain anonymous. She shrugged it off – telling me that it’s okay for me because I don’t have to worry about being found out by students who might use my blog against me someday. Funny – I never consciously thought about the possibility of anybody using my blog against me at work. Nevertheless, the fact that I have been pretty blasé about a lot of work-related stuff, might be due to some warning coming from some dark corner of my mind. We can never be too careful, huh?
Anyway, it’s always a pleasure to be able to talk to someone who’s encouraging and understanding since she has gone through basically what I’m going through right now. From time to time, I really appreciate a strong note of encouragement and support coming from someone who has gone through a challenging time herself is even more motivating. It’s like I’ve found a mentor of some sort, whose reassurance would carry more weight because she had personally gone through this winding road I’m currently trudging.
I must admit that while I know that I have the support, love and blessings from those who count most – my husband, my family – I’ve gotten my share of some negative labeling. I try not to think too much about them, but sometimes they could hurt. Funny but true – the same thing viewed as a strong and courageous thing to do, is also viewed as something very selfish and uncaring.
Somebody once said that I did not deserve any sympathy during the first few weeks after my arrival in Tokyo, when I missed my son most, while trying to get used to my new surrounding when my body was still rather weak. She nonchalantly pointed out I don’t deserve any word of support because nobody asked me to do it anyway. It was my choice, she pointed out - I just had to deal with it. Some went further to point out that I deserved the lowest feeling because I have committed the lowest crime of not being a good mother and a good wife. To them I have simply selfishly abandoned my family in order to pursue my own dream.
Heart, fragile being as it is, could easily get deeply hurt as much as it could get healed by words.
That’s why I try to make the most of the positive words I receive while dismissing the offensive ones. That’s why I find it so comforting to be able to talk to and swap different experiences and opinions with someone who made a similar decision.
At the same time, I also find comfort and warmth in other supporting souls. People who tell me that I can do it, that I’ll succeed and it’ll worth the hard times I’m facing now. People who tell me that in a decade or two, I’ll be able to look back with a smile on my face. People who somehow find my stories inspiring, believe in me and inspire me in return.
I can’t name all of you here, but dear friends, colleagues, acquaintances, fellow bloggers, readers - for all your support, doa, warm wishes, please accept my utmost gratitude from the bottom of my heart.
It was a pleasure to get in touch again, especially after learning that she too has a tough time managing being a wife, a mother and a student. I told her that perhaps a lot of readers could have benefited from her stories if she had chosen to be a blogger. She dismissed it off – “it’s too glamorous for me,” or so she declared. I told her that she could always remain anonymous. She shrugged it off – telling me that it’s okay for me because I don’t have to worry about being found out by students who might use my blog against me someday. Funny – I never consciously thought about the possibility of anybody using my blog against me at work. Nevertheless, the fact that I have been pretty blasé about a lot of work-related stuff, might be due to some warning coming from some dark corner of my mind. We can never be too careful, huh?
Anyway, it’s always a pleasure to be able to talk to someone who’s encouraging and understanding since she has gone through basically what I’m going through right now. From time to time, I really appreciate a strong note of encouragement and support coming from someone who has gone through a challenging time herself is even more motivating. It’s like I’ve found a mentor of some sort, whose reassurance would carry more weight because she had personally gone through this winding road I’m currently trudging.
I must admit that while I know that I have the support, love and blessings from those who count most – my husband, my family – I’ve gotten my share of some negative labeling. I try not to think too much about them, but sometimes they could hurt. Funny but true – the same thing viewed as a strong and courageous thing to do, is also viewed as something very selfish and uncaring.
Somebody once said that I did not deserve any sympathy during the first few weeks after my arrival in Tokyo, when I missed my son most, while trying to get used to my new surrounding when my body was still rather weak. She nonchalantly pointed out I don’t deserve any word of support because nobody asked me to do it anyway. It was my choice, she pointed out - I just had to deal with it. Some went further to point out that I deserved the lowest feeling because I have committed the lowest crime of not being a good mother and a good wife. To them I have simply selfishly abandoned my family in order to pursue my own dream.
Heart, fragile being as it is, could easily get deeply hurt as much as it could get healed by words.
That’s why I try to make the most of the positive words I receive while dismissing the offensive ones. That’s why I find it so comforting to be able to talk to and swap different experiences and opinions with someone who made a similar decision.
At the same time, I also find comfort and warmth in other supporting souls. People who tell me that I can do it, that I’ll succeed and it’ll worth the hard times I’m facing now. People who tell me that in a decade or two, I’ll be able to look back with a smile on my face. People who somehow find my stories inspiring, believe in me and inspire me in return.
I can’t name all of you here, but dear friends, colleagues, acquaintances, fellow bloggers, readers - for all your support, doa, warm wishes, please accept my utmost gratitude from the bottom of my heart.
Monday, December 12, 2005
Autumn in Waseda - Colorful Momiji
Colorful Momiji
Originally uploaded by aezack.
Mixture of colors in one tree - green, yellow, orange, red. A sight to behold...
Autumn in Waseda
Momiji in Waseda
Originally uploaded by aezack.
I know, I know - it's already winter. In fact it's already snowing in the northern part of Honshu. Tokyo rarely gets any snow - I guess the overpopulation and everything else that comes with it (too many vehicles, high usage of electricity, etc) makes it difficult to snow here
Anyway - here are a few momiji pictures taken in Waseda University's Oyama Garden (I took the snapshots using my classmate Noel-san's camera)
Sunday, December 11, 2005
Mochitsuki
It was on the day Huzaifah turned 3 months old when I got to try my hand at making mochi. I thought I wouldn’t get a chance at it this year because normally mochitsuki is only held a few days before new year and I won’t be in Japan during those days this year.
Kawaguchi sensei (the only male sensei for Nihongo Ichi class, and my favorite sensei) made an announcement before the class started last Thursday. Class for 2nd period would ended at 11.30a.m. (instead of 12.10 p.m.) and everybody was invited to a mochitsuki session, organized by Waseda University Centre of Japanese Language, at Oyama Garden.
So, at 11.30 a.m., Arai sensei led the (mostly excited, although some had no idea what mochi is) Nihongo Ichi students to Oyama Garden. We were greeted by the sight of some sumo wrestlers pounding on mochi. (Sorry, no pics of Sumo wrestlers pounding on the mochi though) A long line was already formed at a makeshift tent – for guests to try out mochi and ozoni soup. They even served vegetarian ozoni soup. The mochi was served fresh and warm, as opposed to the room-temperatured ones easily found at most su-pa (supermarkets). Hot mochi, hot ozoni, traditional Japanese music blasted from some speakers, cloudless clear blue sky, not-too-cold weather – all in all made it a perfect day to be out socializing with students from the same and different Nihongo classes.
The best part was given an opportunity to try the pounding ourselves. Some students just posed for pictures. Some were given opportunity to mash the rice until the individual rice grains can no longer be seen (similar to nasi himpit texture) before beginning pounding. Some, like me, just went straight to the pounding part. No, we didn’t get to the shaping the mochi and covering it with red bean paste or powdered with sweet flour and peanut mixture, but even then, the pounding itself was interesting.
Using a medium-heavy kine (mallet), I took turn pounding on the rice with another girl standing opposite of me, listening carefully to “Yosho!” signs from the girl kneeling, in charge of turning and wetting the mochi in the usu (mortar). We wouldn’t want to pound on the girl’s hand by mistake, of course. It was fun aiming for the hardest pound in the middle of the mortar too. An exercise which reminded me of my field hockey training years ago, an outlet to let go of bottled up stresses and frustrations.
And so I pounded. Hard. Carefully aimed at the middle of the mortar. Never missed it even once.
Hard work. But the end result was a good, smooth-textured delicious mochi.
Hmmm… Oishii sou!
Kawaguchi sensei (the only male sensei for Nihongo Ichi class, and my favorite sensei) made an announcement before the class started last Thursday. Class for 2nd period would ended at 11.30a.m. (instead of 12.10 p.m.) and everybody was invited to a mochitsuki session, organized by Waseda University Centre of Japanese Language, at Oyama Garden.
So, at 11.30 a.m., Arai sensei led the (mostly excited, although some had no idea what mochi is) Nihongo Ichi students to Oyama Garden. We were greeted by the sight of some sumo wrestlers pounding on mochi. (Sorry, no pics of Sumo wrestlers pounding on the mochi though) A long line was already formed at a makeshift tent – for guests to try out mochi and ozoni soup. They even served vegetarian ozoni soup. The mochi was served fresh and warm, as opposed to the room-temperatured ones easily found at most su-pa (supermarkets). Hot mochi, hot ozoni, traditional Japanese music blasted from some speakers, cloudless clear blue sky, not-too-cold weather – all in all made it a perfect day to be out socializing with students from the same and different Nihongo classes.
The best part was given an opportunity to try the pounding ourselves. Some students just posed for pictures. Some were given opportunity to mash the rice until the individual rice grains can no longer be seen (similar to nasi himpit texture) before beginning pounding. Some, like me, just went straight to the pounding part. No, we didn’t get to the shaping the mochi and covering it with red bean paste or powdered with sweet flour and peanut mixture, but even then, the pounding itself was interesting.
Using a medium-heavy kine (mallet), I took turn pounding on the rice with another girl standing opposite of me, listening carefully to “Yosho!” signs from the girl kneeling, in charge of turning and wetting the mochi in the usu (mortar). We wouldn’t want to pound on the girl’s hand by mistake, of course. It was fun aiming for the hardest pound in the middle of the mortar too. An exercise which reminded me of my field hockey training years ago, an outlet to let go of bottled up stresses and frustrations.
And so I pounded. Hard. Carefully aimed at the middle of the mortar. Never missed it even once.
Hard work. But the end result was a good, smooth-textured delicious mochi.
Hmmm… Oishii sou!
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