A few days ago, I lost my patience towards some people because of time. The people who were supposed to replace my night duty came in half an hour late. I was frustrated. I was exhausted and had a whole list of things waiting to be done yet, I had to delay my plans because they were late. To add salt to the wound, they were my friends, so I lost my temper and I did not react positively when they walked into the room. I was upset and I wanted to send the message across and I burst. Obviously, my friends were shocked. I guess they did not expect that to come from me.
Although I knew they were wrong to be late, I was disturbed by the way I had reacted. I somehow had a sense of guilt. I felt guilty of showing my frustration. Till now, I still feel guilty for bursting. I have not met those friends yet and I don't know if they are upset with me or not but I feel uncomfortable that I let it happen.
It is a culture at my workplace for people at my work place to walk into the office late. The culture started because people were assigned to duties that were out of their shift hours. Hence, the department heads allowed the flexibility to happen. However, some people have taken this flexibility for granted, they come in late because they had personal matters to settle. As the number of staffs in our office is big, their lateness do not affect their fellow colleagues during the normal shifts, sadly, some of them carry this lateness with them when they are on night and morning shifts whereby there is only 1 person on duty and the person needs to wait for them to come before they leave the office so that the office is not left unattended. I was told this morning by a fellow colleague that there are some people who came in 2 hours late for their duty and caused other people to wait for them without having any sense of guilt. How could people do such things? I just cannot understand. Even if our colleagues are not punctual, does it mean we have to be like them?

My phone rang twice this morning. It was rare for this friend to call at such an odd hour. Besides, she was not one of those who would call as she preferred to SMS. I tried to call back but no one answered the call. I felt a little uncomfortable. Two hours later, my phone rang again. My heart beat faster when i discovered that the person over the phone was not my friend. I embraced myself for the bad news. My friend Wei Ming had passed on. She died yesterday after a fall in the bathroom. She was recovering from a surgery. My heart sank.

Many questions rushed into my head. WHY? HOW? HOW COME? How did she feel during the last moments of her life? How about her aging parents? She was their only child, who would take care of them? I felt emptiness all of a sudden. I felt like crying but no tears flowed......... Wei Ming was my friend since 14. She was a simple girl and was carefree. I never felt stress whenever I was with her. I could talk about anything under the sun and she would listen. I remember her especially for her laughter. It was so easy to make her laugh. She laughed at almost everything even when we talked about serious matters. Being simple minded, Wei Ming never furthered her studies after form 5. She was not a slow learner. She just did not see the need to further her studies to obtain better qualifications. She was contented with her surroundings so much so that she did not switch jobs at all. She worked as a cashier at the bowling alley for almost thirteen years from the day she left school until the day she died. Despite not earning much, Wei Ming was always generous. She always paid for my food whenever we ate at her workplace. She was the cashier, thus she always paid before I could even ask the waitress for the bill. Sometimes she even paid for one or two of my bowling games, telling me to just keep quiet and enjoy the game because I do not have the priviledge of getting a discount.

Wei Ming's passing is a loss for me. I have loss a dear friend whom I was always comfortable with. I am going to miss her. It hurts to be unable to see her for the last time, to bid her farewell. It hurts to know that I was never by her side when she was sick, it hurts to know that I was not a good friend. I felt the pain when the caller told me that Wei Ming's mother insisted that I was informed of her death as I was her good friend. Rest in Peace Wei Ming. Until we meet again.......

History repeated again today and I just could not believe that what happened did happen. This time however, things are slightly different. Somebody actually said that I made a statement which I did not make at all.

I remembered sharing with a colleague on how I would approach unfriendly colleagues if I ever encountered with one. I did not specifically mention any names neither did I say that I disliked anybody in the office. To me, it was merely a general sharing on how to deal with office politics.

Today, a junior colleague approached me and asked me if I told that particular colleague that I disliked some people in the office. I was surprised. This junior colleague told me that that person told her that I disliked some senior staff in the office. I was disappointed and stunned at the same time. I had trusted that colleague so much and felt so comfortable speaking to her. Now, I realize that she cannot be trusted. Besides, I never told her neither did I tell anyone that I disliked anybody in the office. I sincerely hope that this is happening due to miscommunication as both of us are more comfortable using different languages. Maybe she misunderstood me. Nevertheless, once bitten twice shy, perhaps I really need to just shut up and focus on getting my work done.

I got a chance to speak to Dato' Dr. Jimmy Choo today. It was an interesting experience. My colleague was so excited when she got a glimpse of him, I however was less enthusiastic. Yet, I think I should thank my colleague for her enthusiasm otherwise, I would not have gotten the opportunity to speak to him and shake his hand. Despite his fame, I have to say that I am inspired by his humility. He was so approachable and willing to help. Speaking to him today tells me that success is not that difficult to achieve, all we need is the right attitude.

I walked into the office yesterday and was rudely shocked by what was being reported in a reknown daily. My colleages were discussing about it and I felt totally uncomfortable with what I heard. I being a minority opted to keep my opinions to myself but deep within me, I was upset by what was written in the paper. I was dissapointed that the daily could make such a bold statement and yet get away with it. How can we allow such reporting to be done in our country? How could a reporter write an article based on an assumption and not the truth? Will action be taken against the reporter and the newspaper for propagating false belief and hatred? I pray for justice to be done.

I followed the Sarawak Elections with great interest and I secretly supported a particular party. My observation also made me see how some people cheated in gaining the people's support. Although I am married to a Sarawakian, I do not think I am in the right position to announce my opinion towards the outcome of the elections. I have not stayed in the state long enough to really judge its leadership. All I can say is that the lives of the Sarawakians could be better.

I read today's paper with great interest and one victory which captured my attention was Baru Bian's victory. I only knew who Baru Bian was after reading the articles today. Prior to this, all I knew about Baru Bian was that he was the opposition coalition's choice of Chief Minister should they topple the state government. Today, I discovered about his deeds, I learnt how he helped to natives to fight for their land. To me, his victory is most deserving.

Although the Opposition Coalition failed to deny the Barisan Coalition of the 2/3 majority, I think DAP did really well in this election. Yet, one question that I ask is if the candidates representing DAP really had the credibility to win. Did they win because they were really capable or did they win because the citizens in their constituency was so fed-up with the present government that they just wanted someone else to win. THe candidates who represented DAP were those who were only in their 20's with not much experience, yet they won their seats with big majorities. Did the elders vote for them because they have seen them in action and really trusted their capability? I wonder.

If the opposition wants to win the trust of the people, they must start working hard now. The opposition needs more Baru Bians who would serve the people CONSISTENTLY with great sincerity. There's a lot to be done in Sarawak, hence there should be no excuse for future want to be leaders to say that they were not given enough opportunities to help to build the state.

Sarawak is a beautiful state, rich in nature and culture yet there are many who live in poverty. Some are contented with life while many are struggling to survive. Some have left the state for greener pastures elsewhere. I hope the elected leaders will sustain and preserve the natural beauty of the state and work on improving the economy of the state.

It's been a long time since I wrote in this blog. Many things have happened yet I hardly shared anything here. I sometimes ask myself where has my enthusiasm gone to? Is facebook ruining my life? I think it is, yet, I cannot resist it and I succumb to the temptations found in facebook.

I'm currently adjusting to a new environment. I started my second part-time job a week ago and am still adjusting to it. I find myself exhausted at the end of the day and I wish I did not have to mark anymore essays. What to do? I live in KL, things are expensive here and we are just starting to build a family and there's extra expenditure involved, thus, I need to force myself to do a little more to contribute my part and lighten my husband's financial burden.

I find my new job interesting and I can sense that I will eventually find fulfilment in it. I was recruited to be a radio news editor but since I lack in experience, they have assigned me to be a news reporter for the time being. I follow senior reporters to functions and events and learn how to write a news report for the event. It looks easy but for a beginner like me, the task is not that easy as I'm not familiar with the reporting language. However, the enthusiasm which I see in my colleagues motivates me. I see fulfilment in their faces whenever they hear their reports being read in the news. I seek to achieve that kind of fulfilment someday although I do not plan to retire as a reporter. I still want to be a news editor. I'm glad that I'm taking this new challenge =)

It's been 24 days since papa left us and life is back to how it was before papa's passing. The only difference is that there are now four people in the house instead of five and that papa's bed is no longer in the common area of the house. Despite his absence, papa is constantly in my head. I think for as long as I continue to live in this house, I will continue to think of him every day. I don't know why but sometimes I still shed tears whenever I think of him. For example, I went to TM today to end papa's telephone subscription and much to my own surprise, I had difficulty telling the girl over the counter that papa had died. I managed to hold back my tears but I was taken aback by my own emotions. I felt my nose wet as I wrote a letter to papa's 96 year old friend, informing him about papa's passing. It was just out of my control and I cannot explain why.

TO be honest, I was not emotionally close to papa when he was sick. I did not now how to communicate with him. In fact, our relationship had already become distanced ever since I left home to further my studies. By the time I moved home to stay with my parents, papa was already diagnosed with Dementia. Thus I never really had any heart to heart talk with him, our communication was not enough to create any form of emotional attachment. Yet, I'm experiencing this and I cannot explain why.

On the other hand, mom seems to handle his passing very well. She seemed so relaxed these days. She sleeps well and laughs more. I know what I'm about to say is merely an assumption and may not be true but I believe that God brought papa to Shah Alam so that mom would get adjusted to her new living environment first. I doubt mom would have been this calm if papa had left her while we were still in Penang. Well, God always works in mysterious ways and many things that happen in our life often has its reasons and only God knows why they happen.

A tribute to Papa from a Neighbor

I will always remember Uncle Peter a kind man - calm, soft spoken and warm-hearted. His kindness and your mom's hospitality always made your home a place where your friends feel welcomed.

His kindness (of giving me many song tapes) allowed me to enjoy numerous beautiful hymns and songs of praise, ...not to mention the many times when he and your mum allowed me to play the piano forte in your home when I still could not afford a piano.Thinking back, I greatly appreciate all your tolerance of me for 'polluting' your sense of hearing. :P

I could still remembered him riding his 'lau yar' motorbike with either your mum, or one of you sitting on the pillion behind passing by my house...

And how I enjoyed his hospitality during Christmas, the BEC gatherings and many other occassions.

Oh yes, I will not forget the good old Uncle Peter.

Both he and your mum have brought you up well and turned you guys into fine persons.

I've heard in the past that the soul of the deceased would return home on the 7th day after his death and that the chinese would place white powder on the floor so that they would know if their dearly departed did return. I thought about this belief when papa passed on and wondered if it was true. I also wondered if papa would go home to Penang or here in Shah Alam and my mom said 'of course here lah, there's no one at home in Penang, there's no point for him to go there.
So I got a little anxious after papa's seventh day prayers. I wondered if papa would appear in my dreams and he did not. Instead, I slept more soundly than I usually did and did not even know that Leslie had left for work. Mom told me the following day that papa did come home and she said that there was a lot of people gathering around his bed. I asked her if she saw papa and she said she did not and that the people were blocking her view. I got a little skeptical towards mom's statement. Besides, she also said that she saw one of my brother-in-law among the crowd. My brother-in-law is still alive and thus I concluded that mom was just dreaming.

Yesterday was the 9th day after papa's death. while we were preparing dinner, Sokha confessed that she saw papa early in the morning at 1 am and she ran back to the room. According to her, she was awaken by mom's snoring. It sounded like how papa used to snore and she walked out to check on him, forgetting that he had already passed on. As she walked towards papa's bed, she came to her senses that papa had passed on. Much to her surprise, she saw papa washing his hands and wiping them like how he used to while he was still physically able and he had that cheeky smile on his face. She turned and walked quickly back to her room. She said papa looked happy but it terrified her to see what she saw. Was she dreaming? Only Sokha knows.

While we listened to her, a little florescent green praying mantis rested on the table. It hopped all over me. We tried to take a picture of it but it was blurry. This little praying mantis hopped around on Mary and Leslie too for more than three hours. It was still in the house, resting on the sofa when I went to sleep at around 12. I joked and said maybe it was a symbol of papa and I was scolded for being rude. Nevertheless, that insect amused me because I've never seen an insect behave the way that praying mantis did. It was just too active. I am not saying that the praying mantis was papa, it's such a coincidence to have this insect come during this period of time.

I do miss papa. From time to time, I will shed tears when I think of him. I understand now what is it like to mourn. I'm not sad that he has died. I just miss him.

At 12 noon, 1 Feb 2011, papa breathed his last. He could not say goodbye, he went silently like how he always comes and goes. Papa was never a loud man, he disliked loudness and valued peace very much.

I was only three when papa retired from the police force. I guess I was the privileged one to have him present in my growing years. He bathed me, fed me and taught me what he could. I remembered how upset I was when he told me that God was my Father while he was just a temporary replacement of Him on earth. I remember asking him why then is my mom my one and only mother and not just a temporary one like him. He had no explanation and I got angry. Papa only hit me once throughout this 30 years of my life and my sisters told me that I refused to speak to him for a week after that hit. For years, I was papa's little hairdresser. I combed his hair twice a day once in the morning after his bath and the second one after his afternoon nap in the afternoon. I would sprinkle Vitalis on his head and comb his hair over and over again until I was satisfied with what I saw in the mirror. Sometimes he accepted my masterpiece while on other times, he combed his hair again after I left the room.

Papa had a few expensive hobbies. One of it was collecting popular songs. He loved music and spent his pocket money making hundreds and hundreds of copies of popular songs, hymns, instrumental music, workshops, prayers.....whatever he could get hold of and interest him. He did not allow us to touch or use his cassette player without his supervision because it was his 'little baby' and was expensive. He spent hours every day maintaining his player. Thanks to this hobby, we grew up listening to all types of songs. I enjoy listening to "Keroncong", oldies, 'Theresa Teng', Jim Reeves, Slim Whitman, Nana Mouskouri because of papa's influence.

Although I became less attached to papa as I grew older, papa still had influence in my school life. He used to carry me on his bike to school, tuition, church and so on. Although I often took the public bus, papa was my most reliable transporter. Rain or shine, he was there. He was rarely late neither did he ever say no to my requests for a lift. To many of my school friends, papa was a handsome dad. He often took off his helmet (showing off his partially bald head) and sat relaxingly on the bike as he waited for me. Our teachers respected papa too. He was once the chairman of the PIBG and he was committed to his position.

Peter Vaz was a man whom everyone respected. He was a man who did not interest gossip makers. People respected him for his simplicity and kindness. Financially, he was not rich. He never even owned a car or traveled out of Peninsular Malaysia. He never even owned a passport but people remember him fondly. Even though he was bed-ridden, he still had people traveling the distance to visit him, to call and ask about him, who sent greeting cards. With his pension of RM 700, he raised four daughters, sent three to University, one to the nursing school. With that little salary, he also gave us shelter and never deprived us of the necessities in life.

Papa is not a millionaire but he will be remembered dearly by everyone. I should not be sad. He has lived a good life. He is in a better place right now.

Rest in Peace Papa. Thank you for raising me,and for sharing what you could share.


You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up: To more than I can be.

We celebrated our first anniversary two days ago. There was no candlelight dinner but I was glad with how we started our day. We attended mass in St. Peter's church in Padungan, Kuching early in the morning.It was the 7.30am mass but the church was full (an athmosphere one would never see in the Semenanjung churches on an early Sunday morning). Many people even had to sit outside the church. The church was so alive on that early morning. The choir sang so beautifully, I felt as if I was attending mass on a Christmas morning. After mass, we went for breakfast and then to the market. To some, it sounds so unromantic but I was contented.

Two months ago, we admitted papa to the Penang GH because we wanted to have his PEG tiub changed. His PEG tube was dirty and we felt it needed to be changed. As it costs RM 5000 plus to get it changed at a private hospital, we decided to save cost by going to GH, after all papa was a civil servant and he is entitled to medical benefits. Sadly to say, I was totally dissatisfied with how they handled papa's case.

1. Upon admission, a lady doctor checked on papa and exclaimed in front of everyone that his PEG tiub was dirty. She said it was disgusting and went around the ward, sharing with her fellow medical officers on how dirty papa's PEG tube was. I honestly felt like telling her off. How could a doctor humiliated a patient in such a manner? She did that not only once but for a few days. She questioned us for not keeping the tube clean and confidently declared that she would have the tube changed.

2. 4 days passed and nothing was mentioned by any doctor about Papa's PEG tube. Over that four days, papa was only treated for his chesty condition (ever since papa was confined to be, papa's been having pneumonia and that was what the doctors treated) We asked the doctor in charge about the PEG tube and the doctor told us that they could not do it. We continued to request and on the fifth day, a medical officer told my sister that the surgeon would change the tube but we had to go and buy the tube. We bought the tube and it was RM 650.

3. On the 6th day, we brought the tube to the doctor and the doctor asked us how to use it. (that was the first joke). My sister explained to the doctor how it was done at the private hospital and the doctor made a remark which shocked us. 'Oh, so complicated one ah, I thought we could just pull it out' Two things ran in my head. Firstly, had it been so easy, we could have easily done it at home and not admit him to a hospital right? Secondly, the PEG tube was attached to my father's stomach, how could we pull a tube out from my dad's stomach? If we did that then we could look into the stomach already right? How could a doctor make such a stupid assumption?

4. On the seventh day, a Gastroenterologist spoke to my sister and told us that it was normal for the PEG Tube to be dirty and that it was unavoidable. He added that the PEG tube can last for two years and we should not change the tube that often as it was not good for the patient. TO me, it was a fair explanation but why did we have to wait for seven days to get such an explanation. To add on, we paid RM 650 for the PEG tube and now, it was not going to be used. I should have filed a complain but I did not. I am sharing this in the blog because I regretted not filing a complain. The medical officers were all very irresponsible in the way they treated my dad. They failed to investigate and made their own assumptions. To add on, one of them passed remarks that humiliated us and also papa. How could a doctor do things like that? How can we trust such doctors to cure us? I have decided that I will file complains in future should I meet such circumstances again. There are too many irresponsible doctors around.

We live in a terrace house and there is a neighbor who constantly parks their car outside our house everyday, leaving no space for us and also our immediate neighbor to park our own cars. Even when we have outstation visitors, they will still park their car outside ours despite being aware that we need the parking space for ourselves. And because their car is parked outside ours, we and our guests have to leave our cars at a nearby park and walk the distance. Once, this neighbor even blocked our gate with their car and my husband had to leave them a note. THey did apologized but they continued to park outside our house.

It irritates us to see their car outside our house so much so that these days, we would purposely park our car at that spot each time their car is not around. It is a very unhealthy practice but I noticed that some neighbors have resorted to other selfish methods too in order to protect their own parking space. What irritates us the most is that this neighbor would rather take up other people's parking space and leave their own gate clear. One neighbor blatantly described this particular neighbor as selfish. I can't understand how some people can be so thick-skinned. Don't they feel ashamed taking up other people's parking space? If they can afford to buy that many cars, then perhaps they should buy a bigger house for their cars instead denying others from parking in front of their own house.

We enjoyed all the fuss over us at this time last year. We received tons and tons of smses, greetings, wishes, gifts, praises...etc...etc....etc..... it's almost a year now and we are still standing strong (so far so good).

In this one year of marriage, I've learnt many things about my own husband. I learnt to trust him deeper. I admit that I did feel a little insecure prior to our marriage because he reserved many things from me and that frustrated me a lot. However things have changed for the better. I've learnt to be patient towards his actions (though at times he still irritates me) I respect my husband for the person that he is. Gentle he may be yet he has proven to me that he is worthy to be a family man, a provider. He is not good when it comes to saying the right things but he makes wise decisions that benefits the family. Our first year of marriage was better than I expected. I am grateful to God for all the blessings showered unto us. I pray that the second year of our marriage will be as blissful as the first and I pray that I'll be a better wife and be more life-giving in our marriage. I thank God for the people who walked into our lives and have touched us as we strenghten our marriage.

Today, we received another mail from this 95 year old uncle. THis was the content.

MY LEGACY TO YOU WHEN I'M GONE

THE ART OF LIVING
Do not always take, you must sometimes give. There is joy in giving, even to those you do not like. Seems paradoxical but it's true. Giving in expectation of reciprocation is not giving. Hatred breeds hatred. You hate yourself in the end.

FREE THINKING
You cannot be a good Christian, a good Muslim, a good Buddhist unless you are a good human being. No religion can help you. You have to help yourself.

HEAVEN AND HELL

Is there heaven or hell? Why worry? You can create a heaven or hell - even in your lifetime. Your future is in your hands. You are your architect. Your future depends on your present deeds. That's KARMA. KARMA is life itself. Be a good human being and don't worry whether there is a heaven or hell.
Remember what you have sown you will certainly reap. You cannot escape. You cannot find a way out.

DREAMS
An elephant never forgets. So does the writer. But to err is human, to forgive devine. My memory of those who have helped me is indelible. May they rest in peace.

CONCLUSION
Got the message above? If not, let it be your mantra. GOOD LUCK, SEE YOU AGAIN- IN HEAVEN, OF COURSE, WHERE ELSE?

My mother felt so sad when she read the letter. She held the letter, waiting for us to come home.

Today, I have decided to share a letter written by an old friend to my father. Recently, he has been writing letters to my dad. He is aware that my dad is ill but he still writes. This letter was dated 23/12/10 (the day we left Penang). I'm sure reading what he wrote to dad leaves us with different thoughts. I have omitted the names for privacy reasons

Dear Peter,

I understand you have removed to stay in Shah Alam. Although it is not too far away from Penang, I feel I have lost you forever and cannot say when I can see you again. My youngest son is working in Maybank KL. If you happen to drop in at the bank, please make it a point to look him up and say hello to him for me. He is an officer there and is due to retire in a couple of years upon reaching the age of 55, probably end of 2012.

I am so sorry to hear you are not in good shape physically. Don't give up hope, there's always a silver lining and light at the other end of the tunnel. God bless you as you have always devoutly gone to church. You will be richly rewarded in your afterlife. You can be sure of that!!

Although I find some difficulty in walking ( I cannot walk without a walking stick) I make it a point to go to KOMTAR to strengthen my leg muscles and knees. If I don't do so, I will soon be confined to the bed and that will be the end of me.

I spend much of my morning listening to classical music of the great composers like Beethovan, Chopin, Schbert, Mozart..etc..etc. My brother helped me to listen and appreciate classical music. Among our clerical staff at the police dept in Penang, he had the best educational qualifications. He even passed Latin in the senior Cambridge Exam in Dec 1931. He could have gone to college had my father had the means to let him further his education. My father was the chief clerk in Gopeng, Perak, in the Mines office. My brother was a genius in his own right although he was said to be 'eccentric'. Some officers in the Penang Police praised him for his good command of English. I miss him very much. He was not only a brother to me, he was my tutor in English too!

I am still corresponding with Mr. R.G. He was the OCPD G/Town in the 1960's. He was a very strict OCPD. All officers under him and the clerical staff (especially in the traffic branch) feared him. Can you still remember the names like Anthony XXX ( who I hear was in very bad shape, almost blind. Remember XXX? He passed away many years ago. He was a jovial type and a chinese scholar. Also remember XXX and brother XX? I wrote to him too. He is lame and have to go about in crutches. He likes to talk-non-stop.

Well, so long, Peter. I have always kept you in my mind. I never forget old friends. They are worth more than gold to me!


Yours very sincerely,
XXX
(age 95 +. my target is 100!)

Ever since I brought my parents to stay in KL, I've been overwhelmed with praises. My parents' friends constantly tell me that I'm a filial daughter and that my parents are blessed to have a daughter like me. It feels good to be praised but at the same time I feel that I'm being 'over praised'. It looks as though I'm being noble but is that not something every child should be doing? To be caring for their parents when they are not capable of looking after themselves anymore? Times have changed and we now live in a society where many of the elderly are left all alone by themselves and perhaps that is why the peers of my parents are happy for them when they know that their own child will care for them. Perhaps that is why they are being so generous in praising me.

Sometimes people ask me questions like 'don't you have other siblings? Why are you taking up the responsibility?' They try to convince me that I am the better daughter among my sisters. On surface it does seem so but I'm very sure that my parents are aware that their other daughters care for them as well, it is just that situation does not permit them. For example, one of my sister is already caring for her father-in-law and she also has a child. It is not easy to cope with such responsibilities, how can one expect her to invite my parents to live with her? It would be ridiculous for me to let that happen. Despite her heavy responsibilities, this sister of mine still makes sure that my parents feel loved. She picks my mum up at least once a week and bring her back to have dinner with her family. Is that not love? All of us including myself have our limitations and we do what we can. The strength of another sister compliments my weakness and that is how we give love to our parents. Of course, those who are not close to the family will not see the contributions of my other sisters but that does not mean that they are not doing anything

I feel blessed to have the privilege of having my parents living with me even though I'm already 30. I feel blessed to be able to listen to mum talk about 'those days'. I feel doubly blessed that I married a man who is willing to accept my parents and live with them. I feel blessed that my husband calls my mother Mak and is willing to lend her his ears and listen to her talk, and talk even though the topic may not be interesting, I feel blessed that my husband is not being calculative in the efforts and care that he provides to my parents. Honestly, I will not be able to live the life I am living now if not for my husband. I am confident that I did not marry the wrong guy. He is not perfect but he makes me feel blessed.

YEsterday was a public holiday. Leslie asked if there were any housework to be done. There were many things to be done but I told him that I would prefer to just forget about everything and just enjoy the day and that is how we ended up making PAO. I do not have a name for the pao but it was made of Pork, Shitake Mushroom and Yam.

We googled for the recipe, there were many versions so I studied and few and proceeded. The pao turned out to be ok, edible, better than those you buy in Malay shops (no offense to the Malays but I would never buy pao from Malay stalls because they are not nice at all). If I'm to make pao again in the future, I'd put Sengkuang instead of Yam.

I conducted a lecture today. It was a three hour lecture. Although there's room for improvement, I'm glad with the outcome. I like my students. I was actually amazed by how they responded to the lesson. They were vocal and expressive so much so that it made teaching them so much more easier. I am encouraged by what happened in lecture today. I hope this situation will remain.