Crammed schedule

I’m not busy because of Christmas party or whatsoever. Yes, I did go to see Xmas plays around Plymouth, but not because of that my life is been that busy. I haven’t have time to do bloghopping, leaving comments etc. My schedule is totally cram right now. I feel guilty for not doing my usual ritual of blogging. (Is is because of IAD too?)

My exam is in 2 weeks time. Portfolio due date either. Reflections for school haven’t been done fully yet. Luckliky for ‘Collective Voices’ project portfolio, I am satisfied with my materials. (Hmm, looks like ainee spends her time on extra curricular activities innit? Hmm~)

So, I really hope I will have time after this. I really miss mt blogging ritual. BTW, christmas is in the air~where kids behave, nice decoration being put up, late night shopping, lovely songs and colourful streets.

Hope that I’ll have some time soon. Thank you for all your comments. I appreciate them all.

PS: Ayah is at home now. He seems OK. Thanks for the wishes and prayers.

I’m sorry to waste your time for reading this

I have a bad news. My ayah admitted to Hospital this afternon (UK time). I was shocked when my brother told me thru YM.

adik: weih..
adik: gitau muh
adik: ayh eksiden tadi
adik: lpas magrib
eye_knee_kawai: teruk tak?
adik: trok ahhh..
adik: pengsan
eye_knee_kawai: now ayah kt mane?
adik: sepital ahhh
adik: nak p antar baju nih
adik: koyak rabak…
adik: jahit kakinye
adik: …
adik: klah
eye_knee_kawai: shall i call mak?
adik: ni on sbb nak gtau tu je
eye_knee_kawai: huu~
adik: call je
adik: ..
adik: nak rush nih
eye_knee_kawai: okeii
eye_knee_kawai: take care
eye_knee_kawai: jgn rush2
adik: hguhuhuh
adik: ..
eye_knee_kawai: i dont want all my family members staying in d hopsital
adik: (he put a grin icon)
adik: its ok
adik: klah
adik: bubui
adik: assalamualaikum..
eye_knee_kawai: wslm~~

Then minutes after that, Mak called me. I was shocked. I looked at the clock, it was time to go to the next class. But I know if I were in the class I will wander and could not gain anything, and I continue to talk with my Mak.

Suddenly Mak asked “Ni kenapa suara lembut2 je ni?”.

I answered “takde papelah. nak ke kayo (those who knows, know..I won’t tell this bit in detail). I want to cover my feelings from Mak in the first place. But I did go to kayo after that, and cried.

It’s because Ayah. I love him although he never shows his affection towards me. He’s the first man who loves me. I can still remember when I was little, I am his favourite child. He’s proud of me and takes me anywhere he went. I am her adorable and cute daughter. Her only daughter. I’m his only girl. Until I aged 13, our relationship is not as affectionate as before. I grow and be a big girl.

I still remember, there was one time I did a wrong thing, he dreamt of me. A bad one. Mak said he even cried as he woke up. I was shocked. Ayah asked me “Kamu ada buat apa-apa?”, and I don’t want to worry him more, and I shared it with a trustable friend. I know she never tells anyone. I believe in her. She’s one in a million. Only he is the person who can sense my deeds from far. Although many believe that mom usually have the sixth sense, in my case, it’s Ayah who have it. Our attachment is strong. He loves me no matter what, although he never shows it. As this happened to him, it makes me even sadder, because without him, I will not be in here.

PS: Please pray for him. I love him so much. Please Ayah, get well very very soon.

Previous post which links to Ayah.

Micro Teaching, packed and Malay.

Suddenly I feel so packed this week. I haven’t have one day which I spend for internet surfing and chill out. Whew. I would say quite tiring but I don’t feel bored. There are things that is exciting and there are things that gives headache. But that’s life. Seize everything while you can innit?

So, wish me luck for my micro teaching this Friday. I really hope I will not stutter, stuck, dumbfounded, accidentally swear (which I over use) or anything that’ll make me embarrassed and my teaching screwed. I really hope no shit that day.

Got nothing much to write about today since too busy. However, I leave you with a poem. A cynical and witty one. Melayu there means Malay. Archipelagos. Taken from Faisal Tehrani’s blog. Written by Usman Awang (a.k.a Usman Awang).

MELAYU
Karya SN Usman Awang

Melayu itu orang yang bijaksana
nakalnya bersulam jenaka
budi bahasanya tidak terkira
kurang ajarnya tetap santun
jika menipu pun masih bersopan
bila mengampu bijak beralas tangan.
Melayu itu berani jika bersalah
kecut takut kerana benar
janji simpan di perut
selalu pecah di mulut.
Biar mati adat
jangan mati anak.

Dalam sejarahnya
Melayu itu pengembara lautan
melorongkan jalur sejarah zaman
begitu luas daerah sempadan
sayangnya kini segala kehilangan.

Melayu itu kaya falsafahnya
kias kata bidal pusaka
akar budi bersulamkan daya
gedung akal laut bicara.

Malangnya Melayu itu kuat bersorak
terlalu ghairah pesta temasya
sedangkan kampung telah tergadai
sawah sejalur tinggal sejengkal
tanah sebidang mudah terjual….

Politik Sastera di Malaysia

Sudah lama tidak menulis dalam bahasa ibunda. Juga, saya rindu mahu belajar Bahasa Arab sebenarnya. Semanjak dari hari saya ketemu ibu bapa Ahmad Al Khateeb. Kalau ada orang tuliskan puisi mengenai diri saya dalam bahasa Arab, nescaya jatuhlah hati saya kepadanya. Bahasa Arab sangat indah dan romantik. Selepas bahasa Arab, Urdu. sangat romantik. Susah nak terjemahkan dalam bahasa Melayu dengan indah. Bagai membaca terjemahan Harry Potter dalam bahasa Melayu, tiada ‘umph’ rasanya.

Saya tidak maksudkan BM tidak indah, namun, sebuah tulisan yang asalnya ditulis dalam bahasa ibunda, pabila diterjemah, lain perasaan membacanya. Setuju atau tidak terpulang kepada individu.

Suatu hari ketika berbual dengan emak di telefon:

Ainee: Mak, orang kat Barbican Theatre tu kata, nanti poem saya dibukukan. Lepas tu, dia cakap poem saya antara yang bakal dipilih untuk diletakkan dalam gelas kaca sebagai bahan pameran. Huhu. Tak sangka~

Emak: Oh, baguslah. Tapi tak sangka, kamu lebih kepada Bahasa Inggeris. Kenapa ek?

Ainee: Hehe, tu kat sini.

Mungkin kerana mak saya dulu ambil aliran sastera melayu, mungkin dia berharap anak dia akan berminat dengan bidang yang sama.

Mak, Ainee bukan tak minat sastera, minat sangat sebenarnya. Tapi sekarang, sementara tengah ada peluang tuntut ilmu kat negara orang secara free, baiklah mengambil peluang sepenuhnya. Siapa tahu saya bakal mewarisi bakat Muhammad Haji Salleh? Mahir dalam pelbagai bahasa.

Balik Malaysia nanti mungkin boleh hadiri seminar dan bengkel penulisan Bahasa Melayu pula. Insya Allah. With Allah’s will, he will lead me to the best.

Saya mahu pelajari dan fahami pelbagai bahasa, anda?

Of respect and reconciliation

Totally busy day today. Haven’t do my usual visits to blogospheres’ blog yet. Gomenasai~

Plus, my Mozilla Firefox can’t upload its browser currently. Don’t know what had happen. I lost all my bookmarks. *sigh* This can’t be happen to an IAD person innit? So, summary of today’s event.

Classes from 10am to 4pm.

EIT: 1000-1300
Teaching English to Young Learner (II): 1400-1500
Language Support: 1500-1600
Collective Voices: 1700-1900
MARJON COmmunity Play: 1945-2100
Class for EIT (Education in Information Technology), cracked my head and some of my friends got sick. I think I agree with Ruby, we were exposed with the ray from the monitor for hours and that makes us sick. 😛

Went to Barbican theatre, being filmed, watched people being filmed and playing around with Amna. Zehra’s sister. She’s another kid who asked me whether I’m a Chinese or Japanese. LOL. First time this kind of thing happen when I was in Mecca, on top of Marwa hill, an Indian boy asked me “Are you Chinese? Are you Philippine?”. Hahah. Perhaps kids don’t know much yet to differ people’s face of origin. Anyways, Amna is a cute, active, playful, stubborn and adorable little girl. Such a brave girl.

We rushed to MARJON around 7 something and arrived at Drama Theatre but nobody was there. We don’t know that the first part is finished, and the audiences went out for MARJON’s tour. However, second part was quite brilliant. I like the idea of using human’s voice for sound effect. Voice projection, good. In my opinion, as a teacher, I need to learn from Drama students on how to project voice rightly. Perhaps I can get Jules tips of this. Herry likes the flow. I think.
I don’t like the plot. Since I’m a perfectionist, I look at all aspect, and plot is the crux of a production. I know they can do better. Props especially. Owh, I wish I to help them with the writings. So, I hope they can do better and recognise “Malaysia” as part of MARJON since we are the biggest group of international students in here, and our lecturers had been here for a long time ago and I think Malaysian Government has build a good rapport with MARJON for a long time.

Enough of that. Too many things today. I rushed home (since it’s just a few steps from drama theatre) and eat a lot. And now, my stomach is full and tight. Hwargh. I think I can’t do tarian gelek for pakcik BTB since perut sudah boroi =P

Desmond Tutu Center launch: towards reconciliation

Today is one of the biggest event in the history of MARJON. Desmond Tutu Center(DTC) finally launched today, 8 November 2006. Right, who knows Desmond Tutu please lift their mouse. To those who don’t have any idea about him, read it here. This nice archbishop just celebrated his 75th birthday. The place is named after him, although he believe that we should not name a place after a person who is still alive. However, he said, for this (humanity) sake, he allows.

There were many people attended the ceremony. Lord Mayor, MPs, and many more. After the amusing speeches (by David, a chaplain who used to learn together with Mr Desmond in King’s College–sorry; I forgotten his name, and MARJON’s principal Professor David), there was a man, who lost his son, in 2005. Giving a speech in Arabic (luckily I can still recognize few words), accompanied with strong material video, made many shed tears. What do you expect of me? Well, I cried too (I saw His Lord Mayer lifted his glass and wipe his tears too! You see, men cry too). It’s too hard to imagine your own son, playing, then suddenly he will never smile and call “abi (daddy)” and “ummi (mummy)” again. That is what happened to people who live between borderline of war. Their life is at stake. While boys in America are playing Half-Life, using virtual gun, Palestinian boys are playing with REAL gun. Yes, they go to school. They have their own playtime like kids in the other world, but they are in great danger. I can’t imagine to lose a beautiful son like Ahmad Al Khateeb. His parents even give their son’s organ to 4 people who need them. 2 Arabs and 2 Jews. And his speech, is simple, yet sorrowful, and the only one received standing ovation.

I talked to Ahmad’s mum when she was in the Old Chapel. I managed to understand a bit, since her language Arabic is much different than what I learned in school. I think she don’t get me much either. LOL. I need to re-learn Arabic after this. Why? Lughatul jannah (heaven’s language). His prophet’s language. Owh, I miss the Arabic lessons with Ustadz Yazid so much. I think I want to call him after this.

Honestly, before this, I never wish to change this world towards better place. But Mr Desmond said “dream, dream, dream, and work towards your dream”. He even told one of the ARROW girls (in the video) that “Who knows one day you will receive Nobel Prize for peace. Who knows one day you will be the president of South Africa?”. It’s quite sad he can’t join the event although the place is named after him. So, from then, I look differently. I can’t be a teacher merely. There are many people suffer of war and racial conflicts. Even in my own country.

What I contributed and gained today? I helped Dienka put up the posters for the Collective Voices booth and had ‘once in a lifetime experience’ for today.

So friends, respect is not what you gain, but what you earn.

Extra: screeshot from my newly installed ubuntu.

PS: Make a change (in any way). Streotype is boring.