My 6 months course has come to an end - if I could watch my life like a movie and could only pick one phase to replay, i would most definately rewind and watch the last 6 months again. My last 6 months consist of police, army and fire training, besides Outward Bound and mountain climbing activities, not forgetting all the indoor lectures, rules and regulations which we lived by till the end. The days of the greatest physical and mental challenges I have ever faced that resulted in the best times I have ever experienced have finally sent me back to where I began - Kuantan.
In reminisence, the final module that I had to go through was 3 weeks in a village in Besut, Terrengganu - 'Foster Child Programme'.During the programme, we were to experience the kampung lifestyle and carry out a research regarding the quality of living, and also organize a social event for the villages.
I was placed in a rubber estate area with very elderly rubber tapper / farmer as my foster parents. I also had a foster sister in the house, aged 21. The village never had a non-malay as a resident, so I became quite a sight. The house was half brick and half wood - built by my foster father all by himself. I was given a room to myself, with a bed protected with mosquito nettings. That is the part i liked to most about being in a 'kampung house'. There was a little space between the zinc roof and adjacent bricks which allowed all sorts of insects to enter my room at night, ranging from big moths to so unsightly bugs. Under normal circumstances, I would never consider that room "sleep-able" but the presence of the mosquito netting made it altogether different. I would sometimes stay up late at night and use my foster sister's laptop to type my assignment. During that time, I would be surrounded by all kind of scary looking insects, even spiders, but I felt so secure within the pink mosquito netting, known as "kelambu" in Malay. No words can describe that pleasant feeling of safety, to be able to sleep through the night and find countless dead insects, unable to penetrate the nettings, looking down at my when I wake up in the morning...illustrated to me our trust in His shield also. The best thing about the nights is that I sometimes saw beautiful fireflies above my 'kelambu' as they passed through on their journey in the dark, while I laid awake, thinking of so many things....reminding me time and again of the beauty and peace of the Lord.
The bathroom was very basic. It was the first time in my life that I used a workable toilet without flush. It was using the concept where the toilet was built in such a way whereby just a dipper of water flushed everything down. However, that bathroom door was made of wood and intentional peeping would be possible through the spaces in between the planks, and from the sides of the low zinc roof. And whether it's good or bad, they had no lights in the bathroom. Thus, I avoided to using the loo after dark. However, in the second week, I realized that the absence of light was to my benefit, and I had my evening bath only after dark, using my own little torchlight to light my feet and just to check the surroundings as I entered.
Language was a little bit of a challenge. The villagers spoke in thick Kelantanese accent as Besut is just at the border of Kelantan. However, my foster sister who happened to study in Kuantan spoke normal malay and she was my translator most of the time. Innially, I got a rude shock on my first day as in the house when my foster mother refered to my name tag as "tanda tetek" (direct translation : breast tag) which we usually call "tanda nama." Other terms are not different from our usual malay, but not so shocking. For example, when my 'mom' said " tubik kawan mu", I was blinking - "tubik" is call or ask, what we normally say "panggil."
Food was not too much of a problem, as far as the menu was concerned. My 'family' wasn't a fan of all those 'lemak' and 'santan', so I was saved. Thank God! They usually had steamed, soupy or lightly fried food. However, there were some elements I was disturbed by, which I feel are not very nice to mention here, that reduced my apetite. Thus I did not eat much. However, because of the sincerity of their hearts, many times I forced myself, or tried my best to avoid in the politest way possible. Ussually it was by saying "I'm a very small eater, naturally" or that I only eat rice once a day, so that I can eat bread and kaya instead. In my final week there, my 'family' excitedly bought me one of their delicacies called "laksam' - laksa asam, which most people enjoyed. The gravy was grey( that is a put off by itself, as I like my food to have colour), and it was made of pounded fish and coconut milk. There were some leaves which were very fragrant to the extent of giving me a headache, and thick white noodles which reminded me of nothing nice. I was trying to avoid their presence saying that I would eat later, after they left for work, but no, they brought me a plate and sat around me, to watch me 'enjoy' that special delicacy!For goodness sake, this was supposed to be my breakfast! As they sat in front of me with eager eyes, I just knew I had to fake it...After all I had just a few remaining days with them and wanted to leave them with pleasant memories, so I became a little hypocrite, if it's not too harsh a word use. As I took my first spoonful of 'laksam', my tounge only the tasted the unpleasantness that my mind had already conceived, but fortunately I managed to intercept my speech just in time in to force out a smile and say, "Boleh tahan, juga...Sedap..sedap..." To this, they smiled with ease,and I felt good. But about half an hour after they left, I had an upset stomach.
I also learnt something from my experience with my village family. They don't say much but they notice a lot, and express it in different ways. They told me to help myself to anything in the house. Even when they bought food, I just ate a little and left the rest for them, thiking they could eat it later. But then, my father went over to my friend's place and worriedly said that he did not know what to do with me. I ate so little, I did not ask for anything and I could not be forced, and that my three meals would not even amount to a single of his in a day! He lamented that they served me something different everyday to see which one I would eat more, to know my likes, but then I maintained the same little amount everytime. When my friend related this incident to me in the second week, I knew I had to do something as I felt bad. So, when I liked something, like fruits from his orchard, I would deliberately make myself seen when eating. I soon found that my mom who did not speak much would bring me a plate of different fruits every now and then as I worked on my assignment quietly in my room. I was really touched by this woman who did not seem very friendly at first.
During my stay there, I also had many motorbike rides with my 'sister'. I am not a very brave person in that sense, and on my first ride, I was clinging on to dear life, as my sister took me around the kampung without a helmet. And as I saw many other riding without safety measures, I was shocked at their ignorance as these people were not beyond advancement. And for goodness sake, I am in the Department of Road Transport! That was the only transport available at the moment and I assumed that they didn't have a helmet. I didn't want to appear rude to ask. However, the next day, she was taking me out to town, and handed me a helmet, thank God! It was then that I realized their mentality of using the helmet not for safety, but to avoid summons in the town!
I had good times in Besut, going out with my sister and a few friends placed within the same area. We went to the Lata Tembakah waterfall which a breathtaking view, my feet had a treat at the La Hot Spring, and we had a nice time out in the 'pekan' where the biggest shopping place was Econjaya, a reasonable departmental store, and oh, they had Watsons. As for my village area, my colleagues and I organized motivational and teambuilding games for examination students in the village.
There are many more things I could say, but I shall end here. As we promised our hosts in the village, we would share the good times but leave the bad times as we left the village. I thank God for all that He had allowed me to experience, learn and enjoy during my time there, and yes, I do miss them sometimes. Till I write again. Take care.