... and from its ruins, perhaps a new and better governed administration shall sprout.
The heavy propoganda machinery of Barisan Nasional has failed to stem the inevitable, and that is to stop the unilateral voting for the opposition by the Malaysian urban and educated. So much has happened (or not happened) in the past 4 years that cannot be stopped by speeches and full-page advertisements. And so, the stronghold of BN over the Malaysian Parliament has fallen, and along with it, Kelantan, Penang, Kedah, Selangor and then Perak.
Firstly, I applaud the maturity of the current BN in how they have responded to the loss. "We accept the loss this is a democratic right of the people", said the PM. A former woman minister said "The people have spoken". And the heads of the Chinese parties, in shock at their defeat, have said "We have some soul searching to do". Very matured and very responsible to take ownership and admit that they themselves are to blame.
I almost feel bad for them. However, if BN should ever come to win again, then this is a lesson that must be learnt. Bill Gates once said "Success is a lousy teacher. It seduces smart people into thinking they can't lose". They have won for so long. And you can become disenchanted with what you really stand for. Yes, this is a lesson that is long in waiting. We must fail sometimes. We must allow ourselves to lose gracefully and admit defeat. And we must lose to know our faults and our areas to improve on.
"A new dawn to Malaysia" says the opposition. Very true, but the dawn shall quickly turn to day and how the day shall turn out has yet to be seen. I am optimistic and yet sceptical.
There is this euphoric feeling in the air. Many people have woken up today feeling a feeling of high. Like something good is about to happen.
Wait a minute.. the feeling is very familiar. When was the last time we felt like this? It wasn't that long ago... Oh yes, in 2004! When BN won by a mile and the new PM was sworn in, we all felt really good. So how is it that people can feel the same way with the exact opposite outcome? It's called Hope. The election outcome didn't happen because the people support the opposition. Rather, the people are so frustrated with empty promises and the opinion that things have gotten worse, that they are voting for hope, by doing the exact opposite. If doing the opposite means voting the opposition, then so be it.
And hope won today so that's why we feel good. We have bought ourselves another 4 years to see how things will turn out. In the meantime, bask in the feeling of hope. The work starts soon and there will be no time for sentimental feelings anymore.
Sunday, March 09, 2008
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Homecoming - Back to the roots (Part 1)
Dec 2007
The long awaited return to roots has arrived and we finally set foot on Hainan Island, all 19 of us Singaporean and Malaysians of 3 generations. All with the same family name and related somewhat by blood to each other. The trip is a walk back to the past to where our forefathers worked and lived and bred.. to some of the elderly ones, it is a nostalgic trip to a past they have long left behind, and to the younger ones, a revelation to a world where it might have been if our grandfathers had not ventured out of the country.
Strange relations
Our first morning saw us taken to a village, where 20 people came to greet me and dad. They were my uncles, aunts and cousins, and there was one grand-aunt aged 95. I’ve never met them but they know my name. They spoke in dialect which I couldn’t understand, and they held my hand and looked in my face like a prodigal son.
Then they took me to their home, supposedly our ancestral house – which means our family has lived there for 7 generations dating more than 100 years back, and some still live there. The entire place was about 500 sq ft with a hall for dining and 3 rooms. There was a centre table that measure about 1 x 1 metre and looks like something out of a martial arts movie. The beds were lined with planks and no mattress. And the bath, toilet and kitchen were outdoors, with wood used for cooking. I’m told that I’m not visiting but I have come home.
Then I was taken to pay respect at the ancestors altars, complete with kow-tow and joss-sticks, as a sign of the son having returned home and visiting the elders. 4 different places for my immediate family ancestors, the community ancestors, the village ancestors and finally the forefathers. All with the same family name and related by blood over 20 generations. Very eerie, especially when I’ve never done this before. And fireworks were cracked each time, lasting 2 minutes each time, as a symbol of a celebration (much like Chinese New Year). I can tell our return was a big deal to them!
Lunch was sumptuous with 30 people crammed in the home’s hall. And I can now confirm that there is Chicken Rice in Hainan. It took 2 hours for me to feel at home, and I felt sad having to leave the place after the ancestors visits, taking family photos, lunch and being introduced around. I don’t know them, I have nothing in common with them and I can barely communicate with them in sputters of Mandarin. But I feel like I’ve shortchanged them for spending only a short span of 6 hours for an occasion that they may have been anticipating for all their lives.
The village banquet runs the next day. I will write more on that soon.
The long awaited return to roots has arrived and we finally set foot on Hainan Island, all 19 of us Singaporean and Malaysians of 3 generations. All with the same family name and related somewhat by blood to each other. The trip is a walk back to the past to where our forefathers worked and lived and bred.. to some of the elderly ones, it is a nostalgic trip to a past they have long left behind, and to the younger ones, a revelation to a world where it might have been if our grandfathers had not ventured out of the country.
Strange relations
Our first morning saw us taken to a village, where 20 people came to greet me and dad. They were my uncles, aunts and cousins, and there was one grand-aunt aged 95. I’ve never met them but they know my name. They spoke in dialect which I couldn’t understand, and they held my hand and looked in my face like a prodigal son.
Then they took me to their home, supposedly our ancestral house – which means our family has lived there for 7 generations dating more than 100 years back, and some still live there. The entire place was about 500 sq ft with a hall for dining and 3 rooms. There was a centre table that measure about 1 x 1 metre and looks like something out of a martial arts movie. The beds were lined with planks and no mattress. And the bath, toilet and kitchen were outdoors, with wood used for cooking. I’m told that I’m not visiting but I have come home.
Then I was taken to pay respect at the ancestors altars, complete with kow-tow and joss-sticks, as a sign of the son having returned home and visiting the elders. 4 different places for my immediate family ancestors, the community ancestors, the village ancestors and finally the forefathers. All with the same family name and related by blood over 20 generations. Very eerie, especially when I’ve never done this before. And fireworks were cracked each time, lasting 2 minutes each time, as a symbol of a celebration (much like Chinese New Year). I can tell our return was a big deal to them!
Lunch was sumptuous with 30 people crammed in the home’s hall. And I can now confirm that there is Chicken Rice in Hainan. It took 2 hours for me to feel at home, and I felt sad having to leave the place after the ancestors visits, taking family photos, lunch and being introduced around. I don’t know them, I have nothing in common with them and I can barely communicate with them in sputters of Mandarin. But I feel like I’ve shortchanged them for spending only a short span of 6 hours for an occasion that they may have been anticipating for all their lives.
The village banquet runs the next day. I will write more on that soon.
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