...of roots, twigs and branches

When one gets on in age, there is a certain curiosity which tantamounts to an itch to dig into one's roots. Yours sincerely ( Y S ) has to regret that the digging was not done when his parents, especially his father, was still alive and kicking. But those days you couldn't speak to your father, especially mine. You only answered his very occasional questions. Beyond that, Y S and siblings had to go through their intermediary - Mum.

Father was a China born "pendatang" (immigrant) and he was a "China man" to the core - chauvinistic, sexist, Kuomintang supporting, chain-smoking, reserved and very short short-fused. But, he was a very responsible, diligent (He took only four days leave a year, i.e. during the Chinese Lunar New year.), honest and a good provider.

Being a Confucian scholar , he was a very talented calligrapher. In his free time, with his favourite " Craven A " cigarette in between his lips, he could produce captivating Chinese black and white paint brush paintings of picturesque scenery of his native homelands. Paintings of tall mountains, fisher folks on bamboo rafts and the flora and fauna of his village. We used to laugh at his painting of the tall mountains because the art and craft " cikgu " in school taught us to draw triangular mountains until the day I visited Quilin and Li Jiang. I SAW THE MOUNTAINS FATHER USED TO DRAW !!! Father was killed by "Craven A" ( It was 2 packets of 20 sticks each a day) when he developed throat cancer. He fought it with his teeth and nails till his dying days.

"Sons of the Yellow Emperor" by Lynn Pan is a book that helps you to dig for your Chinese roots. I read this book many years ago. Rereading the book now soothes my hurtful soul when some of my fellow Malaysians who have had shamefully discarded their ethnicity to somehow call themselves Malays, all for material gains, then conveniently called you "pendatang."

The book restores your dignity and let you stand tall among other Malaysians as the son of a "pendatang." A "pendatang" who sailed to this blessed land with a one-way ticket, two change of clothes ( blue shorts with gunny string as belt, "Pagoda" round-collar t-shirts and "Fung keong" canvas shoes) and worked as an indentured labourer for a year to pay for the passage. A "pendatang" who received no "subsidy " or "bantuan" or "10% rebate on the house he bought" but used his God-given China man diligence, integrity, thrift and ingenuity to thrive and prosper, and brought up the six of us. Never in my life have I felt more Chinese than at this time of History.

Being the first in my village to study in a National School (Mum incurred the chagrin of the local Chinese school "Siow Chan" (Headmaster) for enrolling me in a national school and was branded "anti- Hwa Siow" (Chinese School) ; having only three miserable Chinese classmates throughout my school life; being forced to study "Pengetahuan Agama Islam" ( Including "Tauhid" and "Fekah') ; having mastered the Malay language (orally and written) , culture and religion; having scored A for Bahasa Melayu in the Oversea School Certificate and also A for Malay Literature in my Higher School Certificate and straight A s for all the Bahasa Malaysia Language and Literature courses in University and Teacher Training College; being able to public speak in a school assembly of more than a thousand pupils; having taught scores of students using Bahasa Malaysia; having crowds of Malay friends etc. I always consider myself a true Malaysian.

This is an Encyclopedia Of the Chinese Overseas also by Lynn Pan. It traces the Chinese whereabouts all over the world, how they got there and how they have been accepted or rejected by the local populace. Several pages were written on the Chinese in Malaysia.

The Chinese diaspora stretches all over the world. The Chinese have become tycoons in Hong Kong and America; coolies in Peru and South Africa, gold seekers in California and Australia, traders in Manila and Singapore, restaurateurs in Paris and Manhattan, triads in San Francisco and Bangkok .................

These two books are like balm for your hurtful soul.

......of Spiritual Books and blessing others....

This is half of yours sincerely ( Y S ) collection of spiritual books which he has accumulated for the past 30 years. As a young Christian, Y S was caught up in the Charismatic Renewal and "eight" or "nine" days per week were spent on prayer meetings, Bible study, Out-reaches and Core Group Meetings. Looking back, Y S never regretted his involvements because this was the time when his and the better half's spiritual bones, muscles etc were developed. A constant nutritional spiritual diet makes wholesome and healthy souls.

Looking back these are the books that have helped to build our strong Christian foundation which our faith is steadily resting on.

As Y S is getting on in life, these must not be collecting dust on his book shelves. They have to go out to bless other hungry souls so Y S is considering donating them to The Wesley Methodist Church for the simple reason that if the faithfuls there do not read them, Y S can be sure that the good pastor by the name of Pastor Lee Peng Chiat will read some of them

So, two shelves have been cleared.

of books and reading.....

One month one copy makes a huge collection when you retire.

Way back in 1960s when Yours Sincerely ( Y S) was in his teens ( seems so long ago) , books were not easy to come by. The closest that Y S could get was his textbooks which he meticulously read from cover to cover. Mum made it a point for us to buy (BUY in the FULLEST sense of the word!!!. These days easy book loan is being chucked at students and the majority of them never even bother to bring the books home!!! ) the books early in the 3rd term holidays so that we could read them.

Y S remembers reading his History book by Joginder Singh cover to cover and had every personality, event and date in his head before the school reopened. History is still Y S' favourite subject. Having only one miserable book shop in Kota Bahru, the "Central Book Store," more often than not, books were out of stock or simply unavailable. That was where the hunt for second hands began, and more often than not, Y S was left with the choice of copying out the whole book from a friend's copy. Friends who had access to helpful relatives living in other states to get them the books.

As a teacher, Y S felt very "geram" (angered) with pupils who did not appreciate their textbooks, and left them to rot in their desks. Y S used to carry rattan school bag full of books to school. This was reinforced with cloth on all the corners and sides to soften the edges and to make it more durable. Nowadays my students straps on their shoulders "Ah Long's bag." The type with very long straps and the bag hits against the students' buttocks when they walk. The content - one miserable dog eared multi-purpose exercise book and one or two exercise books of stricter teachers. You could bet mine was there or they would hastily buy a new copy and swore that the old copy had run out of pages although it was the beginning of the school term!

When Y S' richer cousin was bought a set of encyclopedia, it became the talk of the small town. "So and so bought RM700.00 worth of big and thick books for his children... " Visiting the richer cousin, Y S salivated at the 12 or 13 sets of thick covered books which were nicely displayed in a showcase.

The closest Y S came to was reading old newspapers. Mind you, old newspapers in the 60s came from U.S.A. in bales. Local supply was too limited. Being the child of a grocer, Y S was given the task of pasting paper bags (There were no plastic bags in the 60s ! ) The old newspapers were double folded and their ends were flipped upwards to be glued with Sago paste starch. During many of this paper bag making operations, Y S took the opportunity, away from his father's spying eyes, to read the papers which he found very interesting. And in the Sunday edition, there is this coloured specials which Y S "sorok" (kept aside) to be read later. And during Y S' lookout duty at his father's small grocery store, he would read the papers in between serving customers, and away from his father's eyes.

Local newspapers in the 60s only cost 20 sen for other days and 25 sen for the Sunday edition. Y S only got to buy the Sunday editions and they were "studied" for the rest of the week. Articles were read and reread and cut out to be pasted in thick, used diary. Y S remembers making a few delightful ringgits from " The Eastern Sun" which published writers' opinion and paid RM5.00 for each published opinion.

What about the school library? What school library? It was u heard of until Y S was in the upper Forms. The few copies of dog eared Enid Blytons were always on loan. The library was always tightly shut up. I think the teacher was not doing his duty well. It was in the Teachers' Training college and the university that Y S could whet his appetite for reading. Y S used to leave campus a week or two after the terminal holidays to spend his time in the university library, reading, reading and reading.

Anyhow the joy and delight of reading somehow was implanted in Y S. Ever since Y S got his first pay cheque, a book would be purchased until lately when the inter-net offers a stiff competition and reading is, uncomfortably, done on-line. However, the "itch" to purchase books is still there and Y S has to tear himself away from Popular Book Shop each time he strays into the outlets in A Star. At The Curve in KL, Y S could spends a whole day browsing while his better half and the children gleefully shop away. Another haven for him is "MPH" at Mid-Valley, KL which also offers comfortable reading furniture and space.

This is one copy very recently bought to understand the mind of a diligent, progressive and "non-subsidy minded" Malay. Malays like him are very few and far apart. He is brave enough to call a spade a spade. A big portion of the book is about his reasons for quitting his ministerial post and how his ex-comrades misjudge him. He spells out his formula for a progressive Malay society and hence a progressive Malaysia. To do so, he tells his childhood story of how he has managed to compete and succeed on uneven ground , and not being catapulted to the front of the starting line or having had his competitors handicapped with shackles and weights while he crawled to the finishing line, and proclaimed "Winner".

He has a bigger, clearer and more complete picture of 1Malaysia.