THE BEST GIFT IS THE GIFT OF HOPE

I was driving along O’Connell Street in Limerick one evening and traffic was grinding to an all time slow. Why, because there were cranes here and there hoisting burly men to elevated positions as they fixed strings of beautiful street lights to usher in Christmas. There was a certain excitement in the air and I was pretty sure no one was complaining because it was quite a sight to behold as the workers, all dressed in their safety gear, carefully lifted up the main attraction – the Star of Hope.

The star wondrously lit up the dark winter sky. During WW II, there were stars hanging in many windows, as families hoped for the safe return of their loved ones who were serving in the war.

Temperatures were dropping all around as I sat in the car with the heater turned up and the radio blasting Christmas carols of sleigh bells ringing and the spirit of giving hope.

Hope is a feeling of expectation and desire for a particular thing to happen. It is not wishful thinking.

One of the activities that I get involved in is the annual shoebox appeal. Organised by Team Hope Ireland, this charity body works with children and their families and communities in war torn countries in Eastern Europe, former Soviet Union and Africa.

Last year, people in Limerick sent 8000 shoeboxes stuffed with toys, sweets and other gifts to the children in Lesotho, sowing a little hope into the lives of young ones who have nothing in the way of material goods.

So I wrapped a shoe box with pretty paper and went shopping for goodies for a little girl that I have never met. I felt like a child again and  thought a ‘princess’ theme might appeal. 

It was more difficult than I had thought.

Socks with Disney ‘Frozen’ princess images came in a range of sizes and I had completely forgotten what children feet sizes were! The sales girl came to the rescue and I bought stickers, stationery and a jigsaw puzzle – all with princesses on them.

Next came toiletries, and the range was gorgeous –  child size make-up kits, Olaf the snowman toothpaste and tooth brush that were screaming at me to buy. I succumbed and bought a bag of Haribo gummy bears as well.

I stuffed everything into the shoe box and then topped it up with a card with Irish sheep cartoons (that had real wool stuck to them) as well as a soft toy bunny that I made. I was very surprised that a shoe box could hold so much stuff.

Just like the child who picks up a starfish and throws back into the sea so that it can live, I know my shoebox will not change the world but it might mean the world to just one child.

I felt that I was certainly enriched by the whole experience.

It reminded me of the times when I was involved with groups that did voluntary work with the hill people in the Philippines and the indigenous people in Malaysia. Even though we supplied them with basic necessities like medicine and food, the welcome  that we received surpassed anything that we had imagined. Their hospitality put us all to shame and whatever little they had, they shared with us. It is strange but when we give a little of ourselves or what we have, we receive even much more.  

I was listening to Bob Dylan’s ‘Blowing in the Wind’, the lyrics laden with strands of war, peace and freedom. Dylan says that the answer to  chaos is in the wind. But ‘ just like a restless piece of paper it’s got to come down...But the only trouble is that no one picks up the answer when it comes down so not too many people get to see and know . . . and then it flies away.’

What is it that we hope for as the year draws to a close?      

It is my hope that we love our neighbours as our ourselves- to respect and regard their needs and desires as highly as we regard our own.                                                                  

                                 

                                      A blessed Christmas to all Christians!


This article was originally printed in the NEW STRAITS TIMES MALAYSIA, 20 DECEMBER 2015
http://digital.nstp.com.my/nst/books/151220nstnews/index.html#/23/

MEANINGFUL TRADITIONS OF THE LUNAR NEW YEAR

The thing about festive celebrations is you basically want them to go on and on. It is not only about the onset of the festival but the days or months leading up to it.

For us who live faraway, we start booking flight, bus or train tickets  home at the earliest date possible. I remember when I was studying in Kuala Lumpur, I would rush to the bus station to secure coach tickets once the counters were open. There was no on-line booking then.

I had to buy several tickets for all the short journeys that would eventually take me back to my hometown in Batu Pahat because the direct-link bus tickets were all sold out. There was no griping or complaining because the heart and the head were all in unison with the idea of going home, however long it took.

Certain areas like Petaling Street or Chinatown would be a buzzed about the festival. I used to make a few trips there just to feel the atmosphere, smell the roasted chestnuts and to listen to the Chinese new year songs being blared from the loud speakers. I haven’t been to Petaling Street for some time now and I wonder if it is still the same?

Today is the fourth day of the Chinese New Year and there are 11 more days of celebration to go. To the child that is sheer happiness and although I am a child no longer, I still feel a strange sort of excitement this time of the year.

Like any Malaysian, I am preoccupied with food. I enjoy eating and the adventures associated with the preparation of food or the searching for eating joints that serve mouth watering food. In fact, any dish that is well cooked and garnished bids to be photographed. So I have picture albums dedicated to food alone or to people sitting round a table laden with food. It is not unusual to see me cooking any time of the day or night.

Three types of delicacies that I enjoy which are synonymous to the Chinese New Year festival are yee sang (vegetable and fish salad),  ningko (sticky glutinous rice cake) and mandarin oranges.

Since I belong to the Teochew clan, I’m proud to say that yee sang is a Teochew-style raw fish salad which consists of raw fish and shredded vegetables. Eating yee sang is a cultural activity where all diners at the table stand up and on cue, proceed to toss the shredded ingredients into the air with chopsticks while voicing out auspicious wishes. The higher the tossing, the greater the diner’s increase in abundance and fortune.

Next on the list is ningko or the sticky glutinous rice cake. I love it steamed and rolled in coconut or sandwiched between slices of yam and sweet potato and fried in batter. The story behind the sticky glutinous rice cake is one of human’s cunning. This sticky sweet snack is believed to be an offering to the Kitchen God, so that he can't badmouth the human family in front of the Jade Emperor as his mouth will be stuck with the sticky cake.

Then there are the mandarin oranges that are considered traditional symbols of abundance and good fortune.

When we waddle away after a good meal with family and friends, I believe there is a great release of endorphins. It could be because the meal was gastronomically satisfying or because of the company that we were with.  Or better still, it could be a combination of both. Scientists have named it ingestion analgesia which is the good feeling after eating.

Finally, Chinese New Year may last for 15 days but the wonderful thing is, it comes around every year. There are 12 zodiac animals in the Chinese tradition and each zodiac animal appears once every 12 years., 2015 being the year of the goat.

           

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY NEW STRAITS TIMES 22/2/2015 :
http://digital.nstp.com.my/nst/books/150222nstnews/index.html#/18/

STATUS UPDATE: FEELING LOVED

Facebook has enhanced its status update product, which allows users to share what they are doing or how they are feeling in a structured and visual way. This is the most basic kind of sharing because it only requires the use of words or emoticons to express ourselves, our thoughts and opinions.

We have feeling excited, bored, happy, amused, sick and many more. I have not counted them but there must be hundreds of them and my personal favourite is feeling loved.

To me, it is the small things that make us feel loved and I found lots of small things at a recent festival that we went to.

I love animals in general and could not resist being up close and personal with the four-legged kind. It is not everyday that one could sneak up to a Friesian cow and look at her lovely eyelashes or give a horse some sugar lumps. Rural Ireland has its charms and against spectacular scenery, there are woolly sheep grazing and  Friesian cows unabashedly chewing their cud. 

So I look forward to farming related festivals especially the annual National Ploughing Championships.  The only problem is the weather as there could be practically four seasons in an ordinary Irish day. Even if the sun is out, there could be strong winds and it is safer to bring along an umbrella, just in case.

I need not have feared because we started out with the sun shining brightly as we made our way to Stradbally in County Laois recently. As the festival ground was a distance from the car park, we had to stand on a trailer that was towed by a tractor. The feeling of being ‘herded’ into the fair made me feel more connected than ever with the animals in the field.

There were over 1400 exhibitors and well over 200,000 visitors. After all it is Europe’s largest outdoor exhibition and agricultural trade show. In order to attract customers most of the stalls have loads of food and drink samples and freebies. A bit of cheese here and a small cup of spaghetti there could really fill one up and I am not talking about the free buns, cakes and cookies. They were giving out free car ice-scrapers as well even though winter has not yet arrived. Very generous indeed.

There was a band stand and just watching endearing old couples waltzing and jiving made me go all soft inside : farmers with their flat caps and tweed jackets and senior ladies in long skirts, red lipstick and pearls. Everyone came to revel in the festive mood – the young, the old, the babies, the disabled – and there were facilities for all.

A reflection of a society that cares.

Out of curiosity, I sauntered towards the Irish beekeeper’s stand. It was interesting to observe a glass casing which showcased live bees and the honeycomb. The joy of being educated about nature’s secrets! A tall man painstakingly explained to me what the bees were doing and added ‘If you wait a little longer and look closely enough, you can see the Queen bee.’ Feigning innocence I quipped, ‘And should I be looking out for the one that wears the crown?’ to which he responded with a loud guffaw.

When I spotted a life-sized cardboard Friesian cow with a cut out where the face should be, I could not resist resting my chin there. It was great fun watching mascots walking around in animal suits and swishing their tails and baring their teeth. I could not resist taking ‘selfies’ with them either.

A great necessity at any trade show is the toilet. Not particularly fond of visiting public toilets, I asked the person-in-charge whether it was clean. So he did me a personal service and cleaned it for me and even sprayed a huge cloud of air-freshener.

“There you are, a great strawberry fragrance for you and mind yourself now…” he said.

It is indeed the little things that make your mood – the good weather, the tractor-trailer experience, the freebies, the dancing free-spirit, the banter, the childlike antics of being a cardboard cow or hugging a mascot and the clean toilet created especially for you.

Status Update: Feeling loved.

Source: http://www.nst.com.my/node/48611

Life's Scrapbook Through Storytelling

I picked up scrap booking as a hobby not too long ago when a good friend showed me how to put memories together on paper. If anything, I get to create pages that tell stories. Stories of celebrations and milestones achieved. Stories of my life intertwined with that of others.

Ireland is famed for the art of storytelling. The seancaithe and scéalaí, (the Tradition Bearers and Storytellers), passed the old stories down through the generations.

Ancient Celtic culture also had its own form of scrap booking. The history and laws of the people were not written down but memorized in long lyric poems which were recited by bards.

When Michael and I received complimentary tickets to The River, we were all thrilled to bits. Not only do we like plays but the fact that it was staged on board a 90 foot Dutch Barge in Custom House Quay located at the back of The Hunt Museum in Limerick gave it an added charm.

We were there on time. We were among strangers and friends as the performer entertained us with stories and memories of real people about the River Shannon as it flows through Limerick.

It was not any ordinary story teller but award winning playwright Helena Enright who wrote and performed this multi-sensory theatrical experience using verbatim first hand testimony. The River Shannon plays an integral part in the folklore and literature of Ireland and Helena collected stories about how much it featured  in the lives of the people in Limerick – stories of life, death and hope. Directed by Ciarda Tobin, this was performed in conjunction with the Limerick City of Culture 2014 celebrations.

I thought she was very brave to stage a play on a barge. With such a venue, there were safety regulations to be adhered to. Having to don life-jackets before entering the barge added to the excitement.

We do it all the time. When we hear a good story, we will tell someone about it. Or for us who cannot live without facebook, we click share and make a good story public fodder. Well and good if the story is about someone else, fiction or non-fiction, home or abroad.

This time round however one of the stories in The River is ours. (Michael and myself)

When the call for stories for the event was published, I put a small fraction of our lives on paper and submitted it. The next thing I knew it was selected and Helena came over to our house to interview me.

For me it was a total reversal of roles. In the process of interviewing other people for my articles. I was usually the one holding up the microphone to someone else and then transcribing the recording. So it was quite an experience hearing my own voice being recorded.

Having told our story and seeing it being performed was something else. There was this nagging anxiety: How would my friends and relatives react to the performance?

I need not have worried because in the hands of a professional, the stories were woven together seamlessly like an intricate piece of tapestry. Helena captured the essence of the stories by giving them a voice rich in nuances and complete with local flavour.

There were sights and sounds that accompanied the narration of stories as well.  When it came to the part where I wrote ‘ As I watched the ducks waddling on the river bank making webbed imprints in the mud, I knew that Michael had made imprints on my heart’…there were computer generated images of webbed prints projected on the ‘wall’ of the barge. I thought that was very well done.

To me it is a privilege and an honour. It is a reminder of how things do not happen randomly but that we are part of a bigger plan and second chances. Memories fill our personal scrap books and The River is our cherished keepsake.

** Watch The River online at  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VTvbGVMQVhI
The play starts at 1:25:12. Our story (1st half) is at 1:56:40 and the conclusion (2nd half) is at 2:21:25. Hope you'll enjoy it as much as we did. **

Source: The New Straits Times, 7 Sept 2014..........http://www.nst.com.my/node/30791

Seek Happiness within yourself and not with another

   I ENJOY reunions whether it is to celebrate a festival or a significant occasion. However, there are those statements or questions that will always crop up during such gatherings, and honestly, I cringe when I hear them.  A given is, "You have put on weight", or, "you have not put on weight". Sometimes you can receive both remarks at the  same dinner party.

Then there are questions like, "You have been married for some time now, when will we hear the patter of little feet?" But I guess the one that gets the Oscar is "Do you have a boyfriend/girlfriend yet?"

When I was younger, I found the Oscar-winning question most repulsive because I felt it was not anyone's business to know whether I had a boyfriend or not.

To rub salt into the wound, someone would make remarks like, "You'd better not be too choosy or you'll be left on the shelf", or "you will not remain in the Red Spot (section for sought-after books at the library) for too long and will be moved to the open shelf if you don't get a special someone soon. Don't set your standards so high!"

What irked me was that these people who wished others to be married were not in happy marriages themselves. Then there was this stark reality that it was mainly the womenfolk who would ask such questions. Whatever happened to gender solidarity?

I thought that generation had passed, but I am wrong. These questions are still making their rounds! I wonder why people who were bothered by such questions once are now asking those questions themselves? Is it because of the images that surround us that limit our perception? 

Could it be the Prince Charming fairytale that we have been fed? That it is impossible to be happy unless we get a man or a woman? Or perhaps, these people are just awkward at making conversation and use such questions as fillers? I would rather they be silent than make ill-advised statements.

It is not surprising then that there are rent-a-boyfriend or boyfriend-for-hire websites. According to AsiaOneNews, some Singaporeans, instead of bracing themselves for interrogation during gatherings over their singlehood, are "renting" partners to pose as their intended. How sad.

I read a letter written by 7-year-old Charlotte Benjamin to the Lego company complaining of the lack of options for Lego girls. She wrote, "All the girls did was sit at home, go to the beach, and shop, and they had no jobs but the boys went on adventures, worked, saved people, and had jobs, even swam with sharks."

For as long as girls are sold this package, she is expected to go after the dream of getting a man.

I wish people will realise that it does not take another person to complete someone. We can be complete in ourselves if we want. Happiness and success lie in the individual. A single person can be successful and happy, and so, too, a married person. The reverse is also true that a single or married person can be unsuccessful and unhappy.

I tell my children all the time that we owe it to ourselves to pursue our own happiness and we do not need to rely on another to fulfil that role. I encourage them to tap into their inner resources while they can because satisfaction comes from deep within, not from what others can do for you. It is not a sin to be married and it is not a sin to be single. In whatever state we are, what is most important is to be content.

Amber Kelleher-Andrews, an American radio host and relationship matchmaker, says: "Stay single until someone actually complements your life in a way that it makes it better to not be single. If not, it is not worth it."

Source:  Seek happiness within yourself, not with another - Columnist - New Straits http://www.nst.com.my/opinion/columnist/seek-happiness-within-yourself-not-with-another-1.599846?cache=03%2F7.198169%3Fpage%3D0%3Fkey%3DMalaysia%3Fpage%3D0%2F7.266429%2F7.266429#ixzz3257lmzDq

Appeal of teddy bears

WHAT is it about teddy  bears that makes most of us go soft in the head? I for one have collected a number of teddy bears from different countries and have sat them all down in a cupboard and then carefully cleaned them whenever they got soiled.

Among the well-loved bears are the Paddington bear from Peru, Rupert the bear from England, Biffo bear from Beano, Yogi bear created by Hanna-Barbera (who claims he is smarter than the average bear) and the hand-raised Knut the polar bear that I saw at the Berlin Zoo. But these names are quite lost on present-day children, who are probably familiar only with Pooh, made famous by Walt Disney. But truth be told, the Disney version of Pooh is again rather different from the original A. A. Milne's Winnie-the-Pooh of Hundred Acre Wood.

History has it that the first teddy bear originated from the States after President Theodore Roosevelt and some of his friends went on a hunting trip to Mississippi in November 1902. After tracking down a helpless bear, one of the guides asked the president to shoot it but filled with compassion, the president could not bring himself to do so. Shortly after that, Clifford Berryman, a cartoonist, drew a cartoon of the event. A store owner in Brooklyn saw the cartoon, and true to the American spirit of entrepreneurship, decided to create a toy and named it Teddy Bear.

Teddy bears have gone a long way since. They are endeared by children and adults alike. In fact, I have even walked into a Teddy Hospital that specialises in bandaging that torn-out limb or re-stuffing that well-loved shapeless lump. Visitors to the hospital are asked to stay quiet for the patients.

Like doll houses and miniatures, they are also much sought after by beary (pardon the pun) many collectors. Sir Robert Clark, who died in January 2013, was recruited to Churchill's Special Operations Executive. He had a teddy called Falla, who was with him even when he parachuted into enemy territory in Italy and became a prisoner of war in World War 2. He later became a collector of more than 300 teddy bears.

Recently, Travelodge, the hotel chain, carried out a poll among 6,000 British adults on the significance of teddy bears (there seems to be polls on almost anything). More than half of the respondents still have a childhood teddy bear and 35 per cent sleep with one. Because of the great attachment between the teddy bear and its owner, the loss of one creates great distress. Travelodge said that in 2011, staff had reunited more than 75,000 teddies and their owners. And it is not only children that we are talking about but "frantic businessmen and women" calling the hotel about their forgotten teddy bears. In Teddy Bear stories for Grown Ups by Catherine Taylor, we have 23 fascinating stories of relationships between teddy bears and their owners, including the one about how a teddy bear survived the Titanic.

So what does a teddy bear provide that other toys do not? The respondents of the poll said sleeping with a teddy provided a "comforting and calming" way to end the day. In fact, 25 per cent of men said they even took their teddy bears away with them on business because it reminded them of home. Now I understand why Mr Bean does not go to sleep. I think deviant artist Begemott captures the idea of teddy the protector best in his drawing Sweet Halloween dreams where a teddy bear fends off a monster with a sword while a child sleeps on peacefully.

So with Valentine's Day just around the corner, I think teddy bears make excellent gifts.

They do not wilt like roses do, and unlike chocolates, they give great comfort without the extra calories.

Source: Appeal of teddy bears - Columnist - New Straits Times http://www.nst.com.my/opinion/columnist/appeal-of-teddy-bears-1.479943#ixzz2soKaSecE

Following the food trail

I like to cook and have always enjoyed the  Discovery Travel and Living Channel. My favourite hosts are Ian Wright, Samantha Brown, Anthony Bourdain and Bobby Chinn. These are the people who would show you the fun of travelling to exotic places and trying out new delectable morsels of food.

So imagine my surprise when I learnt that Peter Ward of Country Choice and American celebrity chef and World Café host Bobby Chinn were going to be at the North Tipperary Agricultural Show – a  place for cattle, poultry, horse and pony showing classes and show jumping as well as many other competitions including the best floral displays, photography, art, baking, cooking, needlework, fruit and vegetable produce.

Not one with great spatial intelligence, I surprised myself by getting to the destination without any hitches and I was early as well. Peter Ward, the friendly and charming man who together with his wife Mary, established Country Choice, an independent delicatessen, café and supply business,  told me that Bobby would only be on an hour later. So that gave me some time to walk around the fair, admiring prized four legged creatures: Hereford, Angus and Friesian amongst others. 

                                

What is it about food anyway?

I firmly believe that any true Malaysian is a great lover of food. Not any type of food, but a wide variety of food. The thing about us is that we are eager to try cooking and tasting new stuff. It is not uncommon for us to ask our hostess for the recipe of the most gorgeous lime pie. Most people will happily share the recipes but some will make us swear that we will only use the recipe for domestic purposes and not to start a business.

Then there are some who would just travel for miles to other towns just because the satay is superb in Kajang or the bean sprouts are crunchier in Ipoh. The travelling may be tedious but the food makes it all worthwhile.

So far, I have tried many recipes, some of which are successful and some not. But the greatest achievement for me is baking bread, something that I would have thought impossible. Nothing beats the warm loaf wrapped in a tea towel and sitting on the window sill. Somehow the smell of bread baking in a kitchen gives the home a totally different meaning altogether.

Most times I have also altered recipes to suit my guests’ taste buds.  Tofu and tamarind-based dishes can be as strange to my guests as cold tongue and kidney pie are to me. I find that the more well- travelled my guests are, the more ready they are to enjoy and taste a variety of food beyond the bangers and mash. I made some mango custard dessert for a pot-luck at a local gathering and no one touched it. Unfazed, I made the same dessert at an international gathering and it was zapped up immediately with compliments all round.

Initially I found the Chinese takeaway dishes very strange indeed, not at all like what I am used to. As they try to cater for their customers’ tastes, Chinese dishes have morphed into a blend of eastern spices and western portions, so I could never actually finish a meal all by myself at a Chinese restaurant.

Following the food trail like any endeavour is a journey and it all starts in someone’s kitchen, usually our mother’s. Although my mother used to chase me out of the kitchen because I was more of a pest than a help, I was determined to try out all sorts of recipes. Table manners are also very different where I come from. Those who are younger will make sure that the older ones are seated first out of respect. Then we will ‘invite’ our parents or elders to eat before we did.

At a Chinese restaurant in Dublin, my daughter ‘invited’ me to eat before she started tucking in. Then I heard a Chinese mother ‘chiding’ her own daughter (probably she was born and bred in Ireland), ‘See the girl is asking her mother to eat first, I never hear you saying that.’

Another wonderful custom that we have is we like to share our food. Whether we are at home, in school or in the office, we will readily share what we have with others so we could taste each other’s food, thus forging a kind of camaraderie.

So after an hour wandering around the fair and having scrutinised the cows and horses, I went back to the Country Choice stall and saw the back of a very familiar person sitting on a chair. Like an excited teenager, I went around the chair and asked,

‘Hi, Bobby could I take a photo of you?’

Bobby grinned and said ‘Now why don’t we get someone to take a photo of us.’

Source: http://www.nst.com.my/opinion/columnist/following-the-food-trail-1.360807?cache=golhyfvvipwqzn%2F7.14219%2F7.14219%2F7.245988%3Fkey%3DKuala+Lumpur%2F7.478218%2F7.478218%2F7.478218