Early start to the day

As I'm blogging re Sabah experience a good 9 years after having left the place, there is a possibility these observations have been distorted in the memory bank. ( Actually I'm pretty sure they are)

Back in the days of being a medical officer, those obligatory weekend ward rounds used to bug me to death. The unpredictability of the actual length of the ward round made attending Sunday Mass ON TIME a challenge. To circumvent this, for a good half a year, I attended sunset Mass instead. And then as I realised folks in Tawau woke up super early with the sunrise, I started attending the first Mass of the day on Sunday. Which I must confess was in chinese so there was an underlying sense of guilt so I ditched the idea. ( I have minimal understanding of the language hence the following Mass in Chinese was difficult and listening to the Homily where the only words you understand is God, I You Me, and a couple of verbs I soon realised was difficult to justify).

Currently this no longer is a problem. I'm now no longer doing weekend morning rounds. Which is brilliant.

Lucky Bookstore

Do you know Hello magazine? It's big, with glossy pictures of celebrities and you can stare for hours at those picture sugar-sweet pictures of the perfect family having the perfect holiday in a secluded island . When we get to a new place, mum usually seeks out the catholic church and susses out the Mass times. I ( being slightly pagan-like ) would look for a bookstore.

There were no bookstores In Tawau during my years there. When we asked ( and we did ) where do we get magazines, we got directions to this small half-shop along the main room which at a glance looked gloomy. The Uncle at the counter seemed inert. But he did wave towards the shelves...where I saw HELLO magazine amongst the local fare of Jelita, Her World and Female.

I whooped and skipped and hopped.

Journey through the mist

I cannot remember exact details so some parts of this might seem like I'm being vague. This is not alzheimer's rearing it's ugly and premature head..it is what happens when you've leave things for a long time before deciding..okay we're going to write some anecdotes of Life in Tawau!

It's varied. The answer to the question "Did you enjoy your housemanship?". Depends on what stage of your career you're being hurled this. Obviously if you're still the bottom of the rung being sleep deprived and clueless to what's happening around you, you'ld think what a stupid question because the answer is obvious. But imagine if you were say 10 years away from that bleak period, would you not be tempted to see things differently? You bet you would.

It's the same principal to life in Tawau and being asked " Do you like living in Tawau?". There were tears. Not too much of that because I never was the wailing type. Not much point really if you sit down and think about it. I arrived to Tawau scared. We stepped off the airport at Kota Kinabalu and went to the main officer to report arrival. ( Like reporting to the Alien officer in Galway ) except much worse. You sit in this small room waiting and waiting until someone comes through the coridoor. YOu look up expectantly. You're ignored obviously. Why is it the person you want to see is just the person who's away for a meeting?

A good 24 hours later, I arrive. And my life in Tawau begins.....

Tawau Sabah!

I hated it there. Plucked from what I thought was a big city and thrown into the great Malaysian outback, where folks talked heavily accented Malay, and poverty is more obvious, it wasn't anything I'd seen or experienced before. There are many good things which has come out of experiencing life in East Malaysia and I'm going to list them in no particular order below.

1) The experience of living in East Malaysia allows you to absorb the culture. You can't boast of this if you've only visited the place in spurts. It doesn't work this way. The culture seeps gradually into you. East Malaysians are gracious people. They have a knack of making you feel special and welcome at any function. Their enthusiasm is infectious.

3)The illegals who make it to our shores do so in ths search of a better life.

4)In a smaller town, apart from friendlier folks, you are never allowed to feel lonely.

Some old friends from Tawau were in town last week. One of whom is based in Johor Bharu whilst the other is still lives in Tawau. We went to Kampung Bharu for late dinner. Only because I had a thought block and couldn't think of any other hang-out where they would still be serving food after 11pm. I parked beside a stall selling rojak and I gave the man a nod. In the hope he would keep an eye on the car. Our meal was mediocre but we didn't much mind. It was just an excuse to sit down and talk. Towards the end of the meal, a dodgy man came up to our table and started reciting the Quran. When he found himself without an audience he promptly changed to poety. All this was done with his eyes firmly shut. My friend Anai asked ( in English and Loudly ) whether he was blind. I retorted smartly that that was highly unlikely as the man was walking fine up to the point of reaching our table. He was a little scary and I half though the umbrella in his right hand was actually a secret weapon and that we would all perish a bloody death.

An oasis of books

One of the many differences between West Malaysians and the people of Sabah is Sabahans enjoy reading. I was terribly homesick my first month in Tawau, cut off from MPH, TIME and Mahkota Shopping center, Tawau seemed a galaxy away from Civilisation. How wrong...how wrong indeed. As the months rolled on, and with the arrival of my car....I found this building a welcoming sight indeed. It's the local libary. Built for the people of Tawau.....located beside the sea. The view is breath-taking. I found loads of out-of-print books there. Parents would take their children there...and you could see, both parents and children sitting down reading and enjoying the joy of a good book.

Tawau...more memories

This is a nice view. It's the Yacht club in Tawau. Small and cosy and just beside it was where I learnt to swim. I can still hear my instructor yelling " P-u-l-llllllllll" What we were supposed to pull...I never could understand. But he managed to teach me not only to stay afloat but to move in the water. Membership costs 12 thousand ringgit. I wasn't a member. So I never really got to see the inside of this building which added to the intrigue quite a bit. The old rich of Tawau ruled here. Walking through the premise you can almost smell the snobbery.

Semporna

Clear blue water. That's what I remember best of Semporna. It's the last stop before divers head to the more famous Sipadan. The ethnic groups in Sabah are diverse....Bajau Laut, Bajau Darat, Kadazans, Dusuns, Bugis, Sungai, etc. I attended a Bajau wedding during my stay in Tawau. A whole group of us ....stuffed like sardines in a mini-van made our journey from Tawau to Semporna. We arrived in the evening as the sun was setting. Made a stop beside the sea and that's when I first set eyes on the clear blue sea. Amazing. The bride and bridegroom were childhood sweethearts, neighbours in the same village. The houses were perched precariously on stilts. And we walked deeper and deeper into the realm of another world,a water village. I sneaked a peak in between the planks of wood and caught sight of more water underfoot. Daunting. We finally arrived at the bride's house and then started the bersanding ceremoney Bajau style. She was stressed in black with gold timmings as was he. And they were both in pants. We ate and talked and ate some more. WIth full stomachs we bidded farewell to the newly weds and squished back in the mini-van for the journey home. As we approached Tawau....we were stopped by the local authorities for stuffing more people than deemed safe into the one mini van. Good naturedly, we were let off with a reprimand. A good visit to semporna. I've been back twice since.

I miss Sabah

Have you ever missed a place so much...you think of the place periodically? When did I become attach to this place? Certainly not the first month. Directly after one year of work, I found myself posted to the great Malaysian outback. I arrived at the airport bitter and scared at the unknown. Sabah was an alien country to me. Despite it being part of Malaysia I've never viewed it with much thought. In geography lessons we were thought facts ...to be regurgitated out during exams and Sabah remained merely a state in my mind. I was certainly ill prepared for the poverty....the illegal immigrants and their squatter shelter dotted the horizons on KK. It felt like being in a foreign land. Same country but oh how very different we were to each other. I felt like a foreigner visiting.

I spent one night in KK and flew to Tawau the following morning to report to my new establishment. Once again, the heavily indonesian-laced accent was hard to understand. The faces were so different....( much more interesting) you couldn't place their race.I worked in the outpatient unit for the first 6 months.....and learnt that the people of Sabah are very warm. They're helpful and chatty and they unlike the people in Semenanjung, don't think twice before they welcome you into their house and into their hearts. I miss Sabah.

The view from Low's Peak

The hike up was gorgeous. We left at 5:00am. Everyone had a torch with them so you can imagine the sight of a long line of eager beavers making their way. I think it's just as well we didn't see just how steep certain parts were. The last 2 km felt like hell. There was a thick enough mist to trigger the good old bronchospasm. I remember thinking wooly-gloved hands make using inhalers impossible. The next time I hike up, I'm getting leather gloves.Two friends and I linked arms and together we arrived at Low's peak. ( The highest poin on Mount Kinabalu) We watched the sunrise and thought pure thoughts. As the day became brighter...more people joined us at the peak. What an achievement!