Friends Of My Own

I never realised how much I missed the company of friends until I made some of my own friends earlier this year. The first year we were here, I hardly ventured out of the home, safe the few trips to buy groceries and the weekend outings with the whole family.

The thing is, I didn't feel anything lacking. Perhaps I was too busy getting the kids (including the XL size one) and household organised. After I dropped Joshua off at school, I often went home with Joanne in tow. We didn't send her to kindergarten so I had to take care of at all times. Which meant no free time for myself.

Then Joanne started school earlier this year. I suddenly found myself with a lot of free time. Hooray! Freedom at last. But that doesn't mean I get to lepak all day long. There is still a lot of housework to attend to - it's never-ending but at least I didn't have to tag along a small kid wherever I go anymore. And that makes things a much, much easier.

At school, I got to know a few more mums. I got particularly close to two of them - fellow Malaysians. Sze Nam and her family moved here almost a year after mine. So she was even newer to the environment than I was. The strange thing is that she lived in a neighbourhood not far from mine back in Cheras. And we had to travel all the way to Melbourne to meet each other. I might have seen her in Malaysia before. She worked as a pharmacist at Guardian and I used to haunt Guardian a lot! I thought she looked really familiar when we first met.

Lina, on the other hand, has lived in Melbourne for nearly 20 years, since her university days. So she knows a fair bit about a lot of things here. Plus, she is a certified accountant - really useful to have her as a friend! Lina and I also share another special bond. Both our daughters are named Joanane. More we both seem to have the same taste in clothers, having several identical outfit!

So these days, after I drop the kids at school, I would hang around at either Lina or Sze Nam's house. They both have a 2-year-old son each, so I help them a bit whenever I can. Lina's son, Arthur, for some inexplicable reasons, adores me. So I could watch him while Lina tries to organise her household. Sze Nam's son, Ken Zet, however, doesn't share that affinity. So the only way I can help is to go food shopping with her from time to time.

Well, it's so good to have my own friends - not that my cousin and Alex's friend's wife Anla had not been helpful. They have, especially when I first got here. But it sure is nice to have a few more good pals.

Head Lice Alert!

When the word "kutu" is mentioned, one often envisions dirty poor children with unwashed hair and bodies. Well, the fact is, "kutu" is quite feared here too. Every few weeks, I would get a "Head Lice Alert" notice in the kids' school satchels.

I was stumped when I got the first notice. Surely, this couldn't be, I thought. I read and re-read the notice. That wasn't a joke. I asked around. Yep, head lice are a real problem among primary school kids. But fear not, there are many ways to get rid of these nasty little blood-sucking bugs. Just hop in to the local pharmacy and you'll find an entire shelf devoted to getting rid of head lice! There are head lice shampoo, head lice gel, head lice mousse, head lice powder, head lice solution - just take your pick. At least the treatment options seem hassle-free.

I remember when I got "kutu" on my head when I was in primary school. We were living in Langkawi at that time and we hung out with kampung kids, who understandably were very prone to catching head lice. The treatment was horrendous - kerosene. Imagine having fuel on your head! I don't know what's worse - the fact that you may turn into a human torch easily if there was some spark the moment your hair was drenched with kerosene or that the "kutu" might drive you mad if you didn't get rid of them. There wasn't much of a choice. So I had to be careful not to go near flames while I was having my "treatment". Of course after the incident I was sporting a near crew-cut style too!

So far, both Joshua and Joanne have been spared the head lice agony. Hopefully no head lice would ever take up residency on their heads. But I think I know why head lice are such a persistent problem. The weather could a be a factor. It's often so cold that some kids go without having a hair wash for more than a week! I suspect many of them do not take bath daily as well. Some might even blame it on the water restriction, I think. How convenient!

Just the thought of having "kutu" running around on the scalp is enough to make my skin crawl. Heaven help me. I hope I don't have kids coming back from school with heads full of "kutu"!

--

Yes, We Speak English

"Where did you learn your English?"

"Did you learn your English here or back home?"

These are some of the most frequently asked questions that I often get from people who just meet me. Most of them assume that since I'm a recent migrant, I probably shouldn't be able to converse in proper sentenses. Which I do, of course, and which in turn, surprise some of them.

So I usually have to explain that we actually speak English in Malaysia. In fact, most suburbans families there speak English at home, although with a different accent. Also, English is taught in all schools and is a compulsory subject. Additionally, Malaysia is a former British colony. And therefore, English is one of the legacies left by the British.

This goes to show that many local Australians don't really understand the world outside. They lump all immigrants in one general group - migrants don't speak English. Which is true in most cases. I know many migrants from mainland China who can barely speak any English. Those who learnt their English after their arrival here usually speak broken English. And there also many Japanese and Korean migrants with great difficulty in expressing themselves in English.

But not all migrants have that difficulty. Many from Malaysia, Singapore, India and some African nations are quite comfortable with English. In fact, most skilled migrants are proficient in the language because English proficiency is a must for migration applications.

I'm not the least offended when people ask me those questions. I probably write better English than many of them. Maybe I should say, "I just took up a crash course in English 3 months ago". It would be fun to see the shock on their faces. Now, that's a thought ...

Ouch! My Finger ...

The middle finger didn't seem to have much use to me - except to show rude gestures - until yesterday afternoon. I was clumsy enough to have it slammed by my car door! Usually these things happen when you're in a hurry. But I wasn't. In fact, I arrived half an hour earlier at the kids' school to pick them up before the school bell went off.

Anyway, I opened the door to get out and slammed it before my left middle finger managed to get away. At first, it was just pure shock and no pain. Three seconds later, the pain shot through the finger and spread all over the hand. It started to throb badly. My heart too started pounding. And I started sweating. I took a look at the injured finger. Blood clot started to form under the nail. Luckily, the nail was not broken.

Gosh, it hurt like hell! It was just one freaking finger and it hurt like hell! I wanted to shout obscenities but there were other parents waiting nearby. So cursing was out. So I gritted my teeth and got back into the car, hoping the pain would subside as I sat still on the seat. It didn't. In fact, it seemed to be getting worse. The finger was so swollen and red it looked really ugly and vulgar.

I closed my eyes and tried to picture nice, soothing images. Didn't work either. When I opened them, everything looked ultra bright - like extremely overexposed pictures. It was weird really. The pain must have affected my optic nerves too. I was seeing stars! By then, my ears were burning too. And the pain still clawed on tenaciously. I'd always prided myself for being tough and thought I had a high threshold for pain. Now I know better. I'm just wimp. I can't imagine, nay, I don't want to imagine what it's like being bashed up or hurt in an accident. It would've been so much worse.

After about half an hour, I had to leave the car to get the kids. My vision had gone back to normal by then but the throbbing on the finger was still there. Somehow, I managed to carry some of the kids' stuff and get everyone in the car and drove back safely. But it was difficult doing house chores with one finger disabled. It was hard to think how one finger could slow you down so much. I managed (still a little tough, I guess) to clean up the kids and have dinner ready, though at much slower pace.

I didn't get to properly tend to my injured finger until the kids had gone to sleep. By then, the pain had subsided considerably. But looking at it, it would be quite some time before I can have my old finger back. No, the middle finger's task certainly is not only to show rude signs.

Kiasuism Aussie Style

You know how Malaysian and Singaporean parents are extremely kiasu when it comes to their children's education (and everything else in general, actually)? Well, kiasuism exists here too, but not in terms of academic performance, apparently.

To be fair, all parents want their kids to do well in school. But few local Australian parents would take the trouble to send their kids to tuition classes after school. This is something prevalent only among Asian migrant families. Yep, they load their kids with extra homework because there's virtually no homework for kids below Year 3.

On the other extreme end, there are ridiculous proposals by some very misguided parents to ban homework because they claim homework should be done at school under the supervision of the teacher. Beats me. I don't know how on Earth some of these parents justify that kind of thinking but this is not the minority speaking. This kind of lobbying has been going on for some time it seems.

Anyway, back to the topic of kiasuism. The folks here take socialising and sports very seriously. Most kids will go to their friends' houses after school once or twice a week - just to play, not to do homework together. Joshua has been going to his friends' house regularly and Joanne has invited her friends too. That's fine actually.

But what boggles me is how some parents arrange their kids' week according to the kind of sport they get involved in - Monday (Swimming), Tuesday (Soccer), Wednesday (Tennis), Thursday (Footy), Friday (Cricket) - you get the drift. And then they protest when there's homework for the kids because their kids' week is already packed!

Don't get me wrong. Sports are good. I wish Joshua would show more interest in them but he's happy just being the spectator, not the player. But don't you think too many sports may not be that great? How does a kid stay focused?

And then there's the thing with birthday parties. They are BIG here. And I get worried every time the kids receive an invitation (once a month at least). The parents seem very preoccupied with outdoing one another in the form of lavish parties. The parties usually come with a theme, sometimes with clowns-cum-magicians to keep the kids amused. Some are held in fancy venues. And of course, the host is expected to hand out goodie bags before the guests leave. I must say, some of the parties are really cool - more the reason for me not to hold any birthday parties for I'll never be able to live up to their standards here!

Honestly, I dread the day Joshua and Joanne start demanding to have their own birthday parties. I have been coughing up lots of excuses. I'm not sure for how much longer they'll buy those, though. Maybe I'll have something for them when they turn 18 ...

A Walk In The Cemetery

I'm a big fan of cemeteries. Don't know why. Not that I want to take up residence in one of those places anytime soon. I'm not ready for that just yet. But this morbid fascination with final resting places of the dead has been a part of me for as long as I've lived. I always get excited whenever I drive past a cemetery. And you know what - the older they are, the more fascinating they are for me.

My fixation with them, however, ends with just enjoying their view. I don't crave spending a night alone in a cemetery, nor do I have any interest in communicating with the dead. I just enjoy looking at gravestones. Period.

And last week, I had the privilege of exploring the Burwood General Cemetery. I didn't plan the trip, though I've been toying with the idea of dropping by the Kew Cemetery not too far from my place. I sort of stumbled on the former while I was sent by Alex to fix his rear sensor monitor which was damaged when some scumbag mistook it for a GPS navigator and tried to yank it off the dashboard after smashing the window. So I drove the car to the workshop to have it fixed.

It took an hour for the job to be done. So the guy at the shop suggested that I have coffee and read some newspaper at a coffeeshop down the road. I did. But something else caught my eye - structures that looked like tombstones across the road.

Lo and behold! It was a cemetery. The coffeeshop was completely forgotten. I crossed the road and savoured the sight that awaited me. It looked more like a park than a graveyard! Some of the graves were so beautifully constructed and adorned with fresh flowers. A few even had mini showcases displaying favourite personal items of the deceased. Some housed the entire family! And I found one very old headstone dated back to 1866!

I explored from one end of the cemetery to the other. I only saw one other couple and an old lady visiting graves of their relatives. It was quiet and very peaceful. When I've covered the entire cemetery, I decided to finish reading a book that I'd been reading. I couldn't find a bench, so I settled for a tombstone under a tree and spent the next half an hour there. I bet the spirit residing there must have been pleased with my company.

After more than an hour there, I had to go back to the workshop for my car. But it certainly was an hour well spent, at least for me!

Mandarin Classes

I'm at my wits' end. Both Joshua and Joanne are not keen on learning their mother tongue. Oh, they used to be multi-lingual back in KL. They spoke to their grandparents and dad in Hakka and Mandarin, me in English and the maid in Malay.

Now, they seem only proficient in one language. While I'm glad they have absolutely no problem with English - in fact, Joshua is so good in English he's apparently one year ahead of his expected level - I think I may have failed them when it comes to learning Mandarin or Hakka.

I'd tried teaching them Mandarin at home. I actually brought along some books from KL. But after a few attempts, I gave up. I didn't have enough time and the kids just wouldn't take me seriously. So Alex and I did what good parents do - we enrolled them in a Chinese school.

Well, this is not the Sekolah Jenis Kebangsaan you see in Malaysia. Most Chinese schools in Melbourne only run on weekends and they usually rent their premises from existing secondary schools. Joshua's and Joanne's "school" is only from 9.30am to 12.15am. So you can imagine how much one can learn in such a short time.

Still, it's better than nothing. At least the trained and skilled teachers will be able to drill something into their heads. And it helps that I can supervise their work. I wonder how non-Mandarin speaking parents deal with their kids' homework. It's not easy. You actually have to sit next to them to make sure they do their work correctly. No wonder my nephew Andrew dropped out after a few terms. He's a bright boy but having parents who were English-educated didn't help him much.

Anyway, Joshua and Joanne were not happy about their Chinese school at first. But they didn't have a say in this. They are learning. Joshua is quite fast. Not surprising since he went to a Chinese kindergarten in KL. Joanne is a little slower but she's picking up. I have to give my mother-in-law credit here. She spent quite some time teaching them the basic strokes way back in KL and when she visited recently.

The thing is, they still refuse to answer me in Mandarin. I have to cajole, threaten and reward them to get them to do that. But this is not a problem unique to them. Most Chinese kids here display the same reluctance. I know that because almost ALL the kids at the Chinese school speak among themselves in English! Makes you wonder if this is working at all!

I don't expect my kids to be able to read, write and speak the language the way I do (I went to both primary and secondary Chinese schools, after all). It's just not realistic with the kind of time they spend learning it. But at least, I hope, they won't be completely clueless when someone speaks to them in Mandarin.

Now I'll just have to consciously switch to Mandarin every now and then to get them interested.

Yu-Gi-Oh!

In the beginning, there were the superheroes to keep them enthralled - Ultraman, Spider-Man, Batman. Joshua couldn't get enough of them, and Joanne just sort of decided to like whatever Joshua liked. She still does, actually.

But for some reason, they could never endear themselves to Superman. Don't know why. The bright red underwear worn on the outside probably had something to do with their aversion the the most recognisable superhero of all times.

Later on, the kids discovered more superheroes - the Powerpuff Girls, Power Rangers (and gosh, there are so many variants of Power Rangers!), the Incredibles, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Transformers, Kimpossible. They have T-shirts, pajamas, shoes, socks, slippers, cutlery, bags, books, caps, DVDs, etc, featuring these unearthly creatures.

Then, Pokemonia hit them. Both Joshua and Joanne ate, drank, breathed, slept and dreamt about Pokemon. They even created their own Pokemon and on many occasions "forced" me to create mine as well. Of course, my Pokemon had to "battle" against their Pokemon too. It was madness. And apparently, it is an affliction shared by many other kids around the world. My 2 nephews are crazy about Pokemon and have collected decks after decks of Pokemon trading cards.

I thought this Pokemania would haunt me for the next few years. Alas, it is not to be. Oh, they still like Pokemon but they like something else better - Yu-Go-Oh! - a game and manga franchise created by Kazuki Takahashi involving a card game called Duel Monsters in which players or duelists use cards to defeat one another.

I find the concept pretty similar to that of Pokemon - the Pokemon battle while the duelists in Yu-Gi-Oh! duel. I personally prefer Pokemon. At least many of the creatures are usually cute and cuddly. Duel Monsters, on the other hand, look hideous most of the time. Which is why I find it a little odd that the kids like them so much.

Now, instead of uttering names like Pikachu, Raichu, Blastoise, Treecko and Charizad (Joshua's one-time favourite), they now spew out rather spooky and gothic-sounding names like the Dark Magician, Celtic Guardian, Spell Caster Summoner, Soul Tormentor, Exodia, Sword of Revealing Light and an assortment of dragons! And there are trap cards, spell cards, magic cards, etc too.

These days, they have several decks of Yu-Gi-Oh! cards. Actually, they harrass me on a weekly basis to get more cards in the hope they will find a magic card or a card featuring the legendary Blue-Eyed White Dragon. These are supposedly rare and therefore very much sought-after.

There's one good thing about Yu-Gi-Oh! though. The games come with points earned or lost during duelings. So Joshua has learnt quite a fair bit about additions and substractions. Not Joanne, though. The figures are too big for her to manage.

Also, with Yu-Gi-Oh!, Joshua has discarded his propensity to demand that I create my own duel monsters. That would have been too much for me. Maybe I should create one now - just in case. Kid-Chewing Dark Mummy would do nicely.

First Day At School

Today was a big day for Joanne. She officially started school as a Preppie. And unlike Joshua, she couldn't wait to go to school. She didn't have a first session until 1.30pm but insisted on coming along when I dropped Joshua at school just before 9am.

Joshua found his old buddies and quickly blended in. Joanne kept asking why she couldn't go into her classroom yet. I had to explain that the Preppies only needed to go to school for 2 hours the first 2 days and they only do it in batches. Disappointed, she came home with me, but before loudly exclaiming: "I wish I could go to school now!"

Four hours later, smartly dressed in her school uniform (a second-hand summer dress uniform that I got for only AUD10), Joanne finally made her entrance at her classroom, which actually resembled a playroom with an assortment of colourful toys, drawings and paintings, other artwork and even a pair of birds in a cage! Fabulous, just the kind of room a 5-year-old would like to be confined in.

Mrs Boyce, her class teacher, ushered us in and instructed Joanne to find her own tub to put her books, stationery, library bag, reader cover and satchel. She did it brilliantly. And without being told, she helped herself to the paper and crayons laid on the tables. Her new friend Phoebe was already there and had started drawing something.

Joanne rushed through her drawing. I didn't realise why until I saw her putting her masterpiece aside and started taking out some "masak-masak" toy from a nearby bin. She certainly knew how to keep herself amused. After arranging all her cooking utensils on the table, she turned to me and said: "Mummy, you can go now."

My jaw dropped and I was at a loss for words for a few moments. Some parents lingered on (like I did with Joshua last year) and Joanne just dismissed me! My little one is not so little after all. She certainly packs more guts than Joshua. She actually asked me to leave. I remember Joshua clinging to me timidly on his first day at school. Joanne has never been to any childcare centre, pre-school or kindergarten. Yet, she had no problem setting foot in her school on her first day.

Well and good. With my 2 kids becoming more independent, I'll have more time for myself. About time too!

Watching Tennis With The Hubby

If there's one thing that can stop Alex from dropping everything else, it has to be Maria Sharapova, the glamour girl of professional tennis. Yes, my husband has the hots for another woman. Thankfully she is someone completely out of his league and out of his reach.

And I don't blame him. Really, if truth be told, I enjoy looking at Sharapova too. She is tall, beautiful, brainy (you have to be to play world class tennis) and she actually wins big matches, unlike fellow Russian player Anna Kournikova, who flaunted everything about her except her tennis skills while she was competiting on the professional circuits.

So I wasn't surprised when Alex decided to ditch his parents for an after-dinner walk just so he could watch his idol-cum-goddess taking on Justine Henin in quarterfinals of the Australian Tennis Open, which is currently broadcast live daily over Channel 7. After dinner, he promptly forgot his cleaning up duty and plonked himself on the couch. He even recruited his parents as his fellow cheerleaders for Sharapova.

Each time Sharapova scored a point, he cheered like a jester, much to the kids' amusement. Of course, he did that for their benefit too. (About time he learnt to entertain the kids, anyway). She played brilliantly, demolishing the top ranked Henin 6-4, 6-0. My significant other was overjoyed, naturally. He went to bed happy.

Since Sharapova also thrashed her semi-final opponent Jelena Jankovic, we'll get to see her in action in the final on Saturday. You can count on Alex cancelling all his appointments or refusing to leave the house. He may even forgo his much loved nap time! All in the name of ogling the leggy tennis ace in action.

Sharapova is a beauty all right. Too bad she grunts a lot. Wait, maybe some guys find that, err, exciting? Hmm, I'll have to ask Alex about that.

Watching Tennis With The Kids

It's tennis and cricket seasons now. And since I know next to nothing about cricket, I opt for the Australian Tennis Open. After all, I was at one time a big fan of professional tennis.


We can't afford the pricey tickets at the Rod Lever Arena to catch the action live. Fortunately, we get to see matches broadcast live daily over Channel 7. So we tune in to watch tennis whenever the kids are not hogging the TV to watch their kiddie shows.


Last week, Joshua and Joanne watched their very first tennis match - the 3rd round match between Aussie underdog Casey Dellacqua and former Australian Open Amelie Maurismo. Joshua the patriot wanted Dellacqua to win while Joanne chose Maurismo simply because she was dressed in pink, Joanne's favourite colour.

It was an exciting match with both players taking turns playing brilliantly. Joshua, still new to the game, kept asking me how the points were scored. So I explained as the match progressed. He could read fairly well now so he could tell who was leading. He was definitely anxious for Dellacqua. Because it was a close match, he couldn't sit still. He would cover his eyes, walk around, wince or grimace each time Dellacqua lost a point or made an error. He would cheer and jump up and down excitedly when a point went in favour of Dellacqua. Naturally, he was over the moon when Dellacqua emerged the winner of the match. Joanne, on the other hand, wasn't all that concerned that the "pink girl" lost.

Dellacqua's quest however was over in her next match against Jelena Jankovic. Joshua was disappointed. Then he turned his attention to another match involving another Aussie - this time the match between Lleyton Hewitt and Novak Djokovic. Until yesterday, Joshua has never heard nor seen Hewitt but Hewitt instantly became his favourite in yesterday's match. Unfortunately, Hewitt too lost.

Yes, Joshua was definitely disappointed but not crushed. Even before the match ended and we all knew how it was going to end, Joshua stayed true to his "hero", saying he didn't care and still wanted to cheer Hewitt on. At Joshua's age, I would've stopped watching if my hero was being given a sound beating.

There are a few more days of tennis watching to go. Joshua is sure to sit next to me if I'm watching. I wonder if he'll pick up watching cricket or footy too. Probably not, since I don't.

Unrepentant

This is so weird and leaves a very bad taste in the mouth.

A Melbournian teenage scumbag by the name of Corey Delaney hosted wild open house party that went completely out of control, leaving his neighbours' cars badly damaged and scaring the hell out of them when 500 intoxicated young punks made themselves at home in his house and the neighbours' frontyards, and guess what?

He's completely unrepentant. In fact, he is basking in the attention he's been getting everywhere. The mass media are party to blame for giving him too much exposure. I think he fancies himself some sort of celebrity now, walking around in some weird hooded jacket and a pair of sunglasses. Worse, a party promoter is even said to be considering hiring him to organise a party since he seems to have the flair of inviting strangers to his party. They might as well be promoting bad behaviour.

The authoritites, the police and the neighbours, understandably, are not amused. The police is slapping a AUD20,000 fine on the Delaneys for wasting police resources. Terrified neighbours called the police when the crowd got too rowdy and police squads dogs and helicopters had to be called in to disperse the unruly teens. Several police vehicles were smashed in the process too.

The parents claimed they had no idea the son would do something as irresponsible as that. I find that a bit hard to swallow. Surely there were signs that their teenage son could not be trusted to be left alone for a couple of days. Yet they went on their holiday without him. I wonder how they are going to face their neighbours and the community.

As for the irresponsible and idiotic party riot boy, someone should give him a harsh lesson. He's completely unremorseful. When asked by a reporter to take off his stupid sunglasses and apologise to his neighbours, he refused, repeatedly. He ought to be whipped, repeatedly. And when asked what advice he'd give to other teenagers considering of having a party while their parents are away, he had the audacity to say: "Get me to do it."

I hope something really BAD happens to him soon. Better still, someone ought to hand him to the Malaysian police. They have the knack of inflicting excruciating pain without leaving any marks on the body. That would do beautifully. Really.

Stolen

I learnt a big lesson a couple of days ago - no matter how safe you think a place is, it never hurts to be extra careful.

It's true Melbourne is relatively safer than KL. However, it is not crime-free. Two days ago, I fell victim to a pickpocket right smack in Chinatown. Someone unzipped the front pocket of my backpack and stole my wallet.

Back in KL, I would never carry my backpack on my back and put my wallet in the front pocket. But here, lulled into complacency and the assumption that no one would pick my wallet, I did just that - convenient for me to carry the bag and hold the kids' hands.

Now I know better. I should exercise the same precautions that I did back in KL.

Luckily, there wasn't much cash in the wallet and only 1 ATM and 1 credit card. Once I discovered the theft, I quickly called the banks concerned and had the cards barred. My driver's license and Medicare card were easily replaced. There wasn't a need to make a police report. My requests to replace my library cards and several retailer loyalty cards were efficiently and quickly granted too. At least there wasn't so much hassle here.

Well, the incident was certainly a wake-up call for us. People do abduct kids and do nasty things to them, although not quite as frequently as in Malaysia. Still, I'll certainly be more careful now whenever I'm out with the kids. I've on several occasions left the kids on a bench in the market while I quickly did my grocery shopping nearby. That is going to stop immediately. Too risky.

And Alex will have to stop leaving the kids to me to watch over while he goes browsing on his own. It's hard to watch over 2 kids when they want to go to different sections of the store. He'll have to do his share of kids watching now.

That was certainly a lesson worth learning.

Sweating It Out On New Year's Eve

I spent the New Year's Eve of 2006 at the local hospital with Joanne, who was down with contact dermititis on both her feet. It was an agonising evening for both of us. Last night was yet another agonising New Year's Eve for us.

No, we didn't usher in the new year at the hospital this time. We were at home, but we might as well had been in a furnace. Dear God, it was HOT! It was hot all day with the temperature soaring past 41 degrees Celcius. It was so bad that at one point, the local authorities were considering banning the annual New Year's Eve firework display in the city. Luckily for the revellers waiting to see the big show, the firework display was allowed to go on.

I couldn't help wondering how those revellers took the heat. The crowd must have been overwhelming. Even in the so-called comfort of our home, the sweltering heat was unbearable. Unlike our Cheras home, which is fitted with 4 air-conditioning units, there is none in our rented home here Doncaster. We have 2 standing fans and a mobile cooler, which is totally useless in hot temperatures.

So we all sweated like pigs on New Year's Eve. I couldn't even watch the TV in the living room because the mobile cooler had been moved to the bedroom. You can imagine what a boring New Year's Eve that was.

We all went to bed early, trying to sleep. I couldn't. I woke up several times to open the windows to see if there were any cool changes. There was none. The air outside was still. There was hardly any breeze at all. So I did what I could to cool down.

I splashed cold water on my face. I sprayed water all over me. I stuffed my little pillow in the freezer for a while so that it would be cool to the touch when I took it out. I even stuck my own head in the freezer a few times!

Luckily the kids have a better fan in their room. Otherwise, they would be wailing too.

Morning came and the temperature was only slightly better. Now, as I'm writing this, the temperature has shot up to 36 degrees and it's not even 11am yet. Guess it's going to be another HOT HOT day.

I really dread summer sometimes ... Thank goodness there are cool changes now and then.

It's Christmas Time

Well, Christmas sure is a big thing here. KLCC Suria may have the biggest Christmas tree I'd ever seen but there are lots more Christmas-related ornaments, decorations and activities here in Melbourne than KL.

We were here during Christmas last year. But since we were busy starting our new lives here, we didn't explore the shopping malls all that much. This year, however, we've gone around and seen a lot more. It started way back in October when the first Christmas ornaments made their appearances. I first saw those in Myer.

They are not only Christmas trees, reindeer, stocking, angels, etc. They actually come in so many interesting forms. Some of them depict mini villages, playgrounds, hot air balloons and fun fair. And Santa is not always on his sleigh. He can be on a motorbike, climbing a ladder or fixing some lights. Quaint and quite a sight to behold.

And now, with Christmas just a week ago, you can see even more Christmassy stuff. You can even write a letter to Santa Claus and post it and receive a reply from the jolly old man himself. Of course, at scheduled times, you get to sit on Santa's lap and tell him what you wish for Christmas.

Naturally, you can also find Christmas cards, gift wraps, gift bags, ribbons, gift tags, gift boxes in virtually every shop and supermarket. And gift ideas - you can find them everywhere. Shopping malls everywhere are having sales too, enticing everyone to spend more.

Yes, Christmas is commercialised but the good thing is, the folks here haven't completely lost sight of the true meaning of Christmas. Christmas plays and carols are conducted at parks, schools, community halls, etc. And kids get to enjoy lots of free train rides and free passes to here and there.

Well, we may not have white Christmases here, but the Christmas here sure beats the Christmas in KL.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Happy Anniversary

Today marks my very first anniversary in Melbourne. Unbelievable. It's been one whole year and it seems like just yesterday when I flew here with Joshua and Joanne.

Nothing much has happened. I haven't even seen much of Melbourne and only attended my very first "formal" dinner 3 nights ago - Alex's company-cum-Christmas dinner. Well, that was quite something - to be surrounded, hugged and pecked on the cheek by people I barely knew. And the dinner dragged on for hours until after midnight. No joke. If you think Chinese dinners are bad, this Gwai Loh style dinner is even more long-winded. Still, it was good fun, and the food was glorious. Plus, we were entertained by Hot Stuff the clown-cum-magician.

Well, that was pretty much the highlight of my ENTIRE year here. But at least we are enjoying a better quality of life here. Water restrictions and costly charges from tradesmen notwithstanding, everything else is great. Cleaner air, less traffic, fantastic schools, excellent healthcare services, efficient public services, helpful civil servants, friendly people, safe environments, the list goes on. No complaints there, really.

And the kids love it here too. They've adapted to life here so well I don't think they can survive life in KL anymore. Even I would find going back to KL difficult. The atrocious public service in Malaysia is enough to serve as a deterrent for me! Not to mention some other unmentionables back in Malaysia. Sad but true.

Yep, I'll stick around here. With both kids at school next year, I'll have more time to myself. Maybe I'll be able to explore Melbourne on my own in my free time. That should be fun. Can't wait.

I Cannot Survive!

The above three words were repeatedly uttered by my six-year-old as he clutched his head with both hands as a terrible headache ripped through his head. These three words and others with similar effects such as "How can I live like this?" and "Is the pain ever going to go away?".

Well, I must say Joshua is a bit of a drama king. And since he has a rather low threshold on pain, he tends to whine excessively when he's in pain. What's a 5 on a scale of 10 for most people is probably a 9 to him. So when he developed a bad headache a couple of days ago, he sounded as if he needed to be rushed to the hospital.

Which was exactly what his grandfather thought. You see, on Tuesday, just five minutes before the last school bell went off, he started screaming in pain in his classroom. I wasn't aware of that though I was already at his school with his grandparents (who are here for a long visit) and his sister Joanne. I saw his teacher Miss McDonald coming out from the classroom quite frantically but didn't know she was looking for me. She didn't see me and went back into the class.

I only realised Joshua's predicament when Rosemary - Joshua's best friend Alexander's mum - saw me and quickly told me about the situation. Naturally, I rushed to his classroom and found him being comforted by both Miss McDonalds and Mrs Powells, the teacher from the next class. He was crying incessantly, worrying both the teachers.

I know my son. It was probably not as bad as he appeared to be. So I did my best to comfort him and carried him back to the car. At that point, I knew there would be some problems with the grandparents. Joshua is their favourite grandchild and one of them would insist on my doing something extra.

Back in my mind, I knew some Panadol, lots of water and a good rest would do the trick. But no, grandpa kept saying we had to send Joshua to the clinic. I didn't oblige. It was 4pm and you could only get to see a doctor by appointment. By then, I doubt there was any slot left for me for the day as the clinic closed at 5pm. The clinic would, at best, arrange an appointment the next morning. The other option is the Emergency Department of the Box Hill Hospital, an option I found totally ridiculous because you would have to wait for at least 3 hours before any doctor could see you.

So I ignored the old man and drove straight home. Of course, Joshua kept wailing and screaming as if he was on the brink of death. I knew someone wasn't happy with me but I called the shots here. Thankfully, my mother-in-law was here 2 weeks earlier and she'd seen how appointments needed to be made at clinics and how whiny Joshua was when he was down with gastroenteritis. So she backed me up although she was very concerned as well.

Finally we got home (the journey was less than 10 minutes thouth it felt like like 1 hour with all the screaming at the back seat). I got Joshua to swallow a spoonful of Panadol and lots of water. Then I gave him a head rub with some minyak angin. He fell asleep in less than 10 minutes. And he was out for almost 2 hours after that.

By 6.30pm, he woke up and was okay. Good as new. Boy I was glad I didn't kow-tow to some stupid demand. Rushing a kid to a hospital because of a headache? That would be really too much ...

Teachers On Strike

Today, thousands of Victorian public school teachers didn't turn up for work. Instead, they staged a big protest demanding higher pay, better working conditions and smaller class sizes. Yep, the teachers had gone on a strike.

It's totally unheard of in Malaysia. Malaysian teachers generally get paid peanuts (and some deserving teachers never get the promotion or increment that should be theirs though some other lazy ones get triple promotions simply because they have the right skin colour), work throughout school holidays and handle classes with more than 45 kids each.

Big difference? You bet. But nothing is ever good enough for the Aussies. Nurses, airline employees, factory workers and even police officers stage what they term as "Stop Work Action" activities from time to time. I suppose to them the action is justifiable. I haven't been here long enough to pass any good judgement but I guess as they have their reasons. And if it's for the good of all eventually, why not? Very often, whenever the demands by certain unions are met, they perform a lot better. So it's cool.

That said, these strikes are also very disruptive. Some parents were understandbly upset because they were given too short a notice. Many working parents even had to bring their kids to work today because they couldn't find anyone to take care of their kids.

Joshua's class was not affected. So he went to school as usual. But more than half the school's kids were not there today because their teachers had refused to show up. And these "defiant" teachers have vowed to continue "industrial actions" until their demands are met. Which means we can expect more strikes in the near future.

A day or two of strikes are okay. I just hope they don't go on strike for 2 weeks every day consecutively. That would be disastrous!

Invasion Of The Flies

Gosh, I detest flies! And there are so many of them around these days. For the uninitiated, flies abound here during prolonged hot seasons. And since it's almost summer and the temperature has been soaring way past 30 degrees of late, flies thrive, making a nuisance of themselves.

They are real pests with a penchant of making pit stops at various points of your face, notably the eyes, nose and mouth. Disgusting! Sometimes I feel like a corpse with those tiny buggers hovering and buzzing around me.

Back in Malaysia, we always joke that if flies buzz around you, that means you stink, literally. Well, you don't have to stink here to attract flies during summer. Apparently, the flies attach themselves to humans and other animals because they are drawn to the moisture in the eye, nose and mouth. No wonder they don't follow the food crumbs I toss about to stop them from harrassing me!

And guess what? There are 10,000 to 30,000 types of flies in Australia during summer. 30,000! What a staggering number of pests. And some of them feast on blood too. Gross! And how do you tell them apart? Apparently, according to one fly expert, they have "different lifestyles". Duh? Flies have lifestyles?? Don't they just breed and cause trouble wherever they go? I can't imagine flies having different lifestyles. It's just too odd.

In the meantime, I'm going to invest in some fly swats. No creature a million times smaller than I is going to bug me without my hitting back.

28 Weeks Later

Okay, first thing first. This movie - 28 Weeks Later - was not my idea at all. Alex rented it, so I watched it with him while I was doing some ironing. Multitasking is my speciality after all. But gosh, what a horrid and stupid movie it was.

Never had my intelligence been repeatedly insulted so much during the course of a movie. And this one was flawed through and through. The thing is, it actually did fairly well in the box office. I wonder why. Are moviegoers so gullible they'll just gobble up whatever that's offered to them?

I remember avoiding watching it because I read a review in which the reviewer stated "Don't worry. Everyone in this movie was so stupid they all deserved to die!" And he was right, 100%.

Here are some examples of the movie's stupidity.

1. Why would people return to a country devasted by a deadly virus so soon even though it was declared safe? Shouldn't they wait at least 10 years instead of 28 weeks?

2. How could two kids slip out of a restricted zone so easily? The zone was closely guarded by highly trained soldiers.

3. The kids' escape was noted but the authorities took hours to locate them (after they happily cruised around London before going back to their old home). How could that be?

4. How could their mother survive so long and how on earth did she find her way home after being bitten by one of those infected by the rage virus?

5. How could their father have such an easy access to their mother's restricted chamber (after she was completely decontaminated and disinfected and restrained) even though he was a caretaker of the building? Where were the guards? Where were the surveilance cameras? Don't they have these sorts of things when they keep people with crucial information or special abilities (The doctor taking care of her believed that she was a carrier of the rage virus who might be able to help produce a vaccine for the disease)?

6. Why did the kids' father have to kiss his wife knowing that she was definitely infected with the rage virus? That was the stupidest thing anyone could've done! The virus spreads through saliva and blood. So bingo! After the kiss, he turned into one of those rage monsters and started a killing spree.

7. Why wasn't the chamber occupied by the survivor/wife/mother monitored at all?? Surely after the man turned violent and started banging things and killing his wife, something would've triggered something to alert the authorities. But no, they had to wait until he got out and started spreading the rage virus that they took action - of course, it was too late by then.

I stopped watching by then, because I had finished my ironing chores. I just knew that the two stupid kids who started the whole thing actually survived the ordeal. They ought to be shot.

Anyway, it's just a stupid movie. Glad I got some chores done while "watching" it. I heard there may be a sequel called 28 Months Later. You can count on me not watching it.