Homewood in the snow

This morning, while clearing a drawer, I came across some printed papers lodged between the pages of an old magazine. Curious, I paused to read the writings. I found out it was my son's, Andrew,  account of his first experience of snow when he was at John Hopkins, in Baltimore. Here is his account, written  thirteen years ago.
C.S. Wan 

HOMEWOOD IN THE SNOW


By Andrew Wan


On the 19th of January, 2002 (Audrey's fifth month birthday), I wake up to the sight of snowflakes drifting outside the window. Snow! The snowfall lasts all morning, and extends into the afternoon unabated. After my afternoon siesta, I decide not to lose the valuable opportunity of having a walk in the snowy landscape. So, with scarf, gloves and a camera, out I go.

On the way

There is a wood close to home, and thus Homewood gets its name. On the way to campus, I pass a lovely White Forest. For the first time, the trees look good without their cloak of greenery.

A white mantle carpeted the wood's floor

'I'm dreaming of a White Christmas,
Just like the one I used to know
Where the treetops glisten
And children listen
To hear sleigh bells in the snow'



I like the way the ebony branches of the leaveless trees are draped with snow. It's as if Mother Nature is matching black and white on purpose, and clothing the trees with the finest hosiery of winter.

The bare ebony boughs

I am inside the campus now, looking again at the silver forest that skirts Homewood. My hands are cold as I remove my gloves to capture the pristine scenery on film.

A sight unseen in warmer climates. A snow truck ploughs the snow-laden Homewood field. Today, at least, Man regulates his activities around Nature.

A snow truck ploughing the snow

I'm getting into the campus proper now. The lamp post stands as an unflinching guardian in the cold. Unseen in the photo, snowflakes are drifting into my frame and biting my naked hands. I alternate constantly between the gloves and the camera.

Lamp posts lining the road to the campus

I arrive at the clock-tower, whose reverberating chimes often urge me to hurry for the shuttle bus or give up altogether, on work days. Today, it provides an ideal backdrop  to the abundant over-hanging branches of a silver-lined trees, and an ideal background to a smiling me.

The Clock Tower

Posing in front of the clock tower

I had initially thought myself peculiar in my photo-snapping frenzy. That was until I realised a whole cohort of trigger happy Hopkins people were in the immediate vicinity as well, engaged in the same activity! Li, whom I had met at the Department Christmas Party engaged my help to capture her photo, and her husband returned my favour. 

I arrive at the Lower Quadrant of the Homewood Campus, taking care when negotiating the icy staircase. It is crisp and clear now, and a certain freshness infuses into my spirit, the likes of which I have never experienced for a long, long time. Wish you were here ......

Lower quad

Like the icy path stretching out to an unseen destination, we have a long way to go. The way is not always clear, but we have the lights to guide us, And slowly but surely, we learn to see the beauty that surrounds us as we walk on.

                                                                         Andrew




Other articles by my son, Andrew and my granddaughter, Audrey.

Click below links.

Caressed by dad's floral magic


An envelope filled with inspiration

Hi, 

Here is an article written by one of my 'youngsters' , Shalina, which was published in the New Straits Times. Hope you enjoy reading it.

Niexter- New Straits Times

Oct. 10,  2013

A youngster’s lifeline

By Shalina May Kumar, 12, Selangor 

Shalina (L) and her sister, Shanita (R)

Can you imagine, right now, a world without the Internet? Gasp, you say, the horror! I know, right?

Being a “youngster” myself — as my grandparents like to say — I can understand what you mean. My everyday morning schedule is: wake up, go to school, learn, and come back home. My everyday afternoon schedule is: eat, take a bath, and use the Internet (not necessarily in that order!). So you see, it’s kind of hard to imagine a world without the Internet.

So now I’m going to list down a few of the things that make the Internet such an attraction to us “young folk”. Here we go.

Facebook is convenient (being able to use it on your iPhone, iPad, etc. etc.), user-friendly, and, well, just fun. Apart from keeping in touch with old friends, making new friends, and discovering pages of your favourite celebrities, Facebook also offers a wide variety of fun games to play, and it’s free. 

Twitter is also widely known mainly for the same reasons as Facebook. It’s a website where you can post the goings-on in your life within the limit of 140 characters. It’s a good way to keep track of what your favourite celebrities are up to, too, once you follow them.

 Blogs! Blogs are everywhere. Crazy names, normal names, wacky names; you have to try all these names if you intend to start up a blog because almost all of the names you planned to use have already been taken. Here’s where creativity hops in to get your blog a spot on the humongous 

World Wide Web. Blogs can be used for any purpose.

 Personally, my favourite thing about the Internet is the freebies. With a mere click of a button (and a downloading process… what? Nothing’s perfect), you can download free movies and free eBooks from certain websites. The only risk is, of course, viruses and such, but if you’re confident in your choice of website, go ahead. If you’re not particularly fond of downloading things, just go to 

YouTube and key in the movie you want to watch. Unfortunately, only some movies are available on YouTube as it depends on whether people recorded and uploaded it or not. Also, a word of caution: this usually counts as copyright infringement so don’t count on those movies being up there for very long (unless you’re really lucky). As for books, you can just go to my favourite website,

 Wattpad (wattpad.com). Hundreds and thousands of eBooks ONLINE for FREE. Yeah. Awesome, isn’t it?

 Finally (phew), the Internet provides an endless wealth of knowledge right at your fingertips. One of the most popular websites to get information on people, places, music, books, movies and anything else you want to know, is the famous Wikipedia. 

Anyway! That concludes my article on the fabulousness of the amazing Internet! You see, we couldn’t possibly live without it. Now, time for yours truly to get back to that video I was watching.

A box of memories

A box of memories

by Wan Chwee Seng

Through the dim glass of the wooden cabinet, I see  it, sandwiched between dusty files. It is just a plain rectangular cardboard box with discoloured yellow lid, its edges partially tattered. The words ‘Kodak photographic paper’  printed on the cover, suggest it is from a bygone era. 
However, not a single photographic paper is inside, instead  slides, postcards and photographs fill the box. At the very top  are six slides, now stained and mouldy.  I remember they were taken on a motoring trip round southern England with my Kirkby friend,  the late Nagarajah and  three lady Kirkbyites. After all these years I wonder if any of them can still remember that trip: the climb up the grassy slope at Land's End to take in the breathtaking views of the sea ; the walk along  the pebbled beach of Bristol; the visit to  Anne Hathaway's thatched-roof cottage with its  English garden and an apple tree laden with luscious, red apples.

At Anne Hathaway's Cottage

8,000 miles away from home

Below the slides are some moth -eaten postcards of  countries we visited during our college breaks.

A postcard with the words 'North Wales' on it bring back memories of the time my friend, Jak and I went hitch-hiking in Wales and Scotland.

A postcard from North Wales

 I remember, one spring morning we went trekking through a pine forest in Wales with a few teachers and a group of school girls from Manchester. Suddenly we came upon a bluebell wood: a carpet of blue that stretched between tall pine trees.

A bluebell wood
Photo courtesy of Petr Kratochvil

 That magic moment still remains vivid in my mind.

I pick a photo which has paled with age and show it to my wife.
"That's a photo of me and my friends at the  Nurses' Hostel," she explains.
" Lost track of them. Wonder where they are?" she says, musing about her nursing days.  

Siew Leng(2nd from left) with her nursing colleagues

A photo of young smiling faces catches my eyes. It is a group photograph taken with my brother, cousins and friends. I remember in the early sixties, during the long December holidays, when I came back from Kelantan we would organise  a get-together dinner at one of the restaurants in Melaka town and after that we would adjourn to Happy Studio for a group photograph. The get-together came to an end when some of us got transferred to other states while others left the  country. 

Our Batu Berendam gang

Happy Studio along Jalan Kee Ann  as it is today.

Six small black-and-wide photographs with serrated, white borders, at the bottom of the pile, catch my attention. Most probably, they were from a long-forgotten pen pal. I remember  those days,  newspapers and most magazines like the Radio Weekly usually had a column for pen friends and we would exchange photos, postcards and stamps with our pen friends.
   The buildings and other landmarks in the photographs are not familiar to me, but fortunately on the reverse side of each photo is a handwritten caption and immediately below it I can just make out the word: Anthony, 8.10.1959. 

The photographs with serrated, white borders

As I study the photos and read the captions on the photos, I somehow feel  I have to post them on my blog. Maybe,  the photos  may help rekindle memories for those who lived through the fifties and sixties. 

Buildings in Ipoh town

Ipoh clock tower

Taken somewhere in Ipoh

Bridge to Kuala Kangsar

Fire at Tiong Bahru, Singapore

The kind of road we traversed from Singapore to Penang

The last photo with the caption 'The kind of road we traversed from Singapore to Penang' strikes a chord with me, as I remember driving on the same kind of road in the late sixties and early seventies when we visited my wife's hometown in Penang. Although the journey was long and tedious, we enjoyed watching the changing landscapes and the panoramic  views along the way. We would pass cluster of Malay huts that nestled cozily among coconut groves; paddy farmer in ankled-deep mud tilling the fields with a wooden plough pulled by  a water buffalo; Chinese farmers in broad-brimmed bamboo hats busily engaged in  watering and tending their  vegetable plots and Indian rubber tappers tapping rubber trees in the shadowed wood of early dawn. 

A paddy farmer tilling a field

Photo courtesy of Peter Yong

One of the scenes along the way, as I remember it.
( Oil painting, C S Wan 1995)

At intervals we would pass through small towns, many with pre-war shops. I remember, except for the large towns of Kuala Lumpur and Ipoh, our journey would take us through many small towns:  Bidor, Tapah, Kampar, Sungei Siput, Taiping, Parit Buntar, Nibong Tebal and Simpang Empat. We would stop at Bidor for lunch, buy some fruits and biscuits, before proceeding to Ipoh where we would put up the night at our friend, Tjien Tho's place. Early the next morning we would continue on our journey to Penang. 
" This is Tham Leong's hometown, that's where Chow lives, " I would tell my wife as we passed through Kampar and Sungei Siput, remembering my friends from USM. 

With Tham Leong, Chow and other USM friends

Except, for Tham Leong who visited us on a few occasions, I have not seen or heard from  the others. 
Along the way my wife would point out the small towns where she used to stay and visit when she was doing her midwifery course. 
Then as we caught sight of  mangrove trees and irrigation canals with dark, brackish water we knew we were approaching Butterworth. On board the ferry to Penang island we would stand on the deck to enjoy  the cool sea breeze and  look out for a familiar face. Then as  the shoreline of the mainland receded from our view and  the island of Penang loomed  ahead of us, I could see the joy in my wife's eyes as she waited  for that moment when she would be reunited with sisters and friends. 
.   
Chinese New Year is just around the corner and my wife is busy clearing the drawer: throwing away letters, envelopes and magazines that have accumulated through the years.
I look at the faded photographs and moth-eaten postcards in my hand. I am tempted to throw some into the garbage bag, but somehow find myself  returning  them to the same old box. And maybe, there is still  space for another photo  _ a photo to hold and rekindle another memory.



   

  

Melaka to Jogjakarta

                  

  Melaka to Jogjakarta
   By C S Wan


“ Anyone else want to go to Borobudur?” 

My niece’s voice drifted from the kitchen to the living room where I was seated with my wife and sisters.
Borobudur?
The word conjured image of a towering Buddhist monument  with its six square platforms and three circular platforms.

 ‘Not for me’, I thought.

As for my niece and her cousins, there should not be any problem. They had been climbing quite steep slope at an early age.

Kecik-kecik dah pandeh panjat

What about the other ’empek, engku, engcim, and engkim, who were joining the trip?  My initial doubt was quickly dispelled when I thought about  the long practice and preparation they had made before the trip: line dancing, dieting, walking, ’urut’; the tongkat, koyop etc. I was confident they would make it to the top. 

While the ‘younsters’ sat back and relax my three nieces: Joon, Adeline and Lisa were busy making arrangement for the trip. 

A few weeks before the trip I received an email from Joon.
‘Are you sure you don’t want to join the Wan family for the Jogs. trip? It is is still not too late to change your mind, I have booked a 20 seater micro bus _ plenty of space.’
They had chosen the right date, the right time and the right number of people. I was not going to spoil the party, so I kept my silence.

So, on 12-12-12 at 12pm , eleven of them took a flight from the LCCT Internatinal Airport, Kuala Lumpur to Jogjakarta where Joon was waiting for them; exactly 12 members in the party.

The trip as recounted by Siew Leng.

Joon waited for us at the Jogjakarta airport with a 20-seater micro bus to take the 12 of us to the hotel. 

"Apa nombor bas?"

"7147"

"Eh, sini tak jual empat ekor."

The view on the way to the hotel.

Nampak macam Simpang Empat, Alor Gajah.

"Buah apa ini?"

"Inilah buah salak pondoh."

                                        "Wah, berat juga!"

                                           "Bu, manis atau masam?"
                              " Boleh tahan."

After the long trip, we wait for lunch to be served.

"Dah lapar, tapi terpaksa senyum for the camera woman."

"Tak perlu bayar,"

"Semua dah masuk akaun buku tiga lima, kemudian baru bayar."

" Tengok banyak lagi wang rupiah!"

"Tak 'pa lah , boleh pergi casino."

                   Checking into the Manohara Hotel. 
                   " Mana paspot, gua?"

C

                   

                   At the Manohara Hotel garden

A video show on Borobudur was screened at night

and this was followed with a dance performance.

No, we did not perform. Posing saja with the gamelan.

All dressed up for the climb up Borobudur monument.

Eh, bukan nak gaya.

 Tourists are obliged to wear the batik sarong as a mark of respect for the holy place.

   Banjaran gunung masih diselimuti kabus tipis.

It is before seven in the morning and the distant mountains are still shrouded in mist.

                   Our group, looking rather tense, standing stiffly

                    in front of the Borobudur monument.

                   "All hands on the hips."

                    "Ah, like that more sexy."

                   We are just following our tour

      guide instructions.

                           ' Pakeh dark glasses, tiang pun tak nampak'

                  " Nak rehat dulu sebelum panjat"

                 Statue of Buddha silhouetted against the light
                    of dawn

                   Paying homage to Buddha

                   Tired, but we made it to the top.
                    Lutut sakit sikit.

  At the Istana Batik Ratna Hotel

   One of the lanes near Malioboro Street

    The facade of the Purawisata where we watched

  the Ramayana ballet

  The beautiful and colourful Ramayana ballet. 

    The performance was preceded with music that sounded like

    'Are you sleeping brother John, brother John' Hehe!

       The rather haunting and soothing music can lull one to sleep.

     'My mommy tidur through the performance'

All eyes on the food.

                     "Sup apa tu?"

                   "Jangan pandang sini. Cepatlah makan, nanti lauk 
                     habis"

                    At the Kraton ( Sultan's Palace)

                   In the compound of the kraton

               Traditional Javanese architecture in the kraton.

Visit to the prambanan Hindu temples complex.

Originally there were 240 temples, but now there are only about twenty temples. The May 2006 Java earthquake damaged some of the remaining temples. 

                   
                    After the hike to the temples.
                   "Dah lapeh ni."
                    "Tunggulah sekejap."

                   One of the many trishaws that can be seen on 

                the street of Jogjakarta.

                   Joon: "Can be scary, when you are seated in front and you see the on-coming cars rushing past you."

                    

                   Kereta kuda lebih selamat.  Slow and
                    steady. 

                    

After the hike semua boleh relaks dan senyum

                  

 A huge thanks to Joon, Adeline and Lisa for their

                    time and effort in making this trip a truly 

                     enjoyable and memorable one.

Notes: This piece is  specially written for the members of the group, families and friends. Other readers are welcome to share
the story. My apology to the non-peranakan speakers who may find difficulty in understanding the peranakan words in the text. 
This piece is written in good faith. No offence intended. 
Hope you enjoy the story and the slideshow.