(I Remember) Myself

There Comes A Time

It is a truth generally known that St Thomas's is notorious for coercing students into events and competitions they do not want nor like. (forgive me for ripping Austen off)

There Comes A Time started off like that for me. Shang's workshop was barely over, when Cikgu Orlnda beckoned: "Come 'ere. You're Janang."


Just like that. No haggling, no please and will yous. Straight up statement. You're caught now. No running away. I was beyond frightened - two weeks and I've never acted ever before oh no oh no oh no.

The first practice was that very night. The first time I ever clapped my eyes on a Drama Script.


My God look at the lines! This was worse than Chinese School!

Okay, maybe not worse, but I never liked History and History had a lot of memorizing. On the other hand Cikgu Elin, who tried very hard to make us love Sejarah (and succeeded), never required me to hold a girl's hands and propose.

It's an understatement to say I was way out of my depth.


And so began a series of late night practices, of running over the lines again and again until I could remember not only mine, but my Apai's as well. And then after the lines came the emotions. Cikgu Orlnda explained to me parts of each scene:

"Here you're confident - you're ready to go out to the world and your Apai's the one that's nervous, not you ..."

or

"You're going to leave for a very long time! This is the last time you'll see her, so asking her to wait is about the same as asking her to marry you! Do you have a gf?"

"Erm, no ..."

"Man you must be doing something wrong - if Kenny can get a girlfriend and those form 3 kids are all coupled ..."

We burst out laughing, and redid the emotions for The Romantic Goodbye.


Do you know how hard it is to portray love and sadness and confusion? Frustration and anger too easy, but love! How can touches and looks - so subtle to two people - be amplified to a hundred from a lit stage?! We did it again, and again, and again, until my fidgeting felt almost second nature.


The full dress rehearsal had Patrick Yeoh (playwright) pushing us harder: "You know the part where the son comes back home from Australia? I want you to milk the drama out of that. Milk it! You have to understand that when you left the longhouse was full of life! People everywhere, Gawai celebrations ... and when you come back - empty! Silent! I want to see confusion, fear, distress! You need more emotion, more movement!"

The Students' Night held a special place in my heart - I had never acted on stage before, and boy was I nervous. It didn't help that a lot of my friends were in the crowd: Nickki and Paul smiled and waved, my makeup was pink lipstick and blusher, lots of it. Probably sweated it all out. And my parents! God my parents were in the crowd!

There is a part in the play where I come back from Australia (the one Patrick Yeoh had told me to 'milk') and I had to show my confusion and fear and uncertainty. Then I call out for Apai, and he comes out, and we hug.

That needed to work. When I enter from stage left I had in mind a scene from Jane Eyre: where Jane returns at long last to find her master's house burnt to the ground - twisted and charred. It was extremely painful to project all the shock and from that image, up the stage, down the stage, left, right, desperation. Then I call out for Apai.

He comes out.

Stares.

"Janang?"

"A - apai?

We cannot believe our eyes. We really can't. He stumbles down the carved steps, I help him.

We are at arms lenght for a second ... two.

And then we embrace.

Below the stage, unknown to us, tears had welled up in Cikgu Orlnda's eyes: I don't believe they made me cry!

We felt elated, Uncle James and I. Satisfied.

*

Perhaps the worse thing about this entire event was that the actual night was after the first performance, and the lull of daily life interrupted that euphoria of pulling something off spectacularly. Many said the actual night rocked better - the mics didn't act up, for one thing - but I was detached for much of the first act. It is very hard to get into the head of an Iban boy genius, especially when you only look Iban. Heh.

One of the VIPs said later that the love scenes reminded him of his youth. And it made many people think about education and the part it plays in our lives. The Borneo Post did a writeup two weeks later:

Those hoping for a happy ending will be disappointed ...

Which goes to show how serious the play's subject matter was.


It was far too serious for many, however: Haznetta summed up to Fiona: "It was all Cedric ...", and Magdalan's niece told her it was bo-ring.

But I didn't mind - that night after it was all over Orlnda and I hugged backstage, jumping up and down with joy, and then we danced to traditional music and drank tuak - real tuak! - that a friend had made. I was warm and fuzzy and oh-so-happy; smiling faces everywhere and laughter and fun.

And the post production party was well worth it:

Mickey-Ds!

It's a good thing St Thomas's is notorious for coercing students into events and competitions they do not want ... new vistas of feeling and thought and taste lie just outside the gates, discovered through an unceremonious kick in the butt from a teacher.

Now all you have to do is to reach out and grab it.

A Short Update

Kenny has written a counter argument in his blog to my last post about the prefectorial board. It may be somewhat unsubstantial (I know Kenny is capable of a stronger argument), but hey - cut the guy some slack. He's very busy with college life.

I met Sean in school today. He was going to give a talk in ISCF, about varsity life. He doesn't look very different (and he reads this blog!), plus he was enjoying himself meeting up with old friends.

Jylene is very complicated, and the (Chinese speaking) class is getting used to her. Slowly.

Tay has let up on the disturbing (what with Jyl sitting next to him), and he wants to dye his hair. Was actually considering green, so he went to a certain person's blog *coughcough* to see how it would look.

I think pink's a nicer colour.

The amount of people talking about my Prefectorial Board post in school is worrying ... I'm going to have to put up a blogging policy very soon, to pre-empt school censorship attempts.

Oh, and the next post will be about the play. I swear!

It was Janang's fault!

Till then.

Oh Yeah, About The Prefects ...

During the first assembly for the Lower 6 today I couldn't help but make snide remarks at the prefectorial board. It was horrible: students in messy arrangements, fans that had no effect, Form 6 classes merging with the Form 4s and 5s. The first assembly we did two years back was equally chaotic, and we had an earful from the powers that be then.

Shirley (Tan) commented: "You're being very sarcastic today ..." and it made me realise that what I was doing wasn't at all helpful.

Alright, so what's the big deal? St Thomas's prefectorial board is one of the best in Kuching (if not Malaysia), and it changes all those who goes through it. We come in boys, we go out men. We learn to think outside the box, and look at our flaws objectively. We don't become leaders through the board, but sure as hell do we learn how to interact and plan and manage events.

St Thomas's prefectorial board turns us into the party planners of the future.


There are no prefects in my class. I told them the truth about the board: what they're likely to face and what they're likely to learn. And while I may be biased against it (since Ms Chong left it has deteriorated) others chime in: they've heard from their seniors how those that enter the board don't get good results ... how their teachers complain about their academics ... how the head prefect sleeps in her class.

Some may argue that there are prefects that do well academically, that learn how to manage their time. The key word here is some. Of the whole board how many are top scorers? For the STPM Kian Cheng, Chin Kai (Wen Qi and Tih Shyang) and Sze Chin are the sole stars (I'm not going to talk about the SPM because 1, the standards aren't as high, 2, the good students automatically become prefects, 3, the other classes (with little or no prefects) have academics of negligent value). Statistically this is like playing the lottery: you go in with a 6 (?) in 50 chance of getting good results (there are about 50 form 6 prefects in my batch). Is that worth your academic credentials?

A more important question that needs to be answered: how many of these prefects are scoring at their full potential? Chin Kai told me that he was doing miserably at the start of 2006. It was only after he retired that he picked up the pace, regaining loss ground and just managing to achieve respectable results. That wasn't his potential. He, like many others, would've done marvelously if the prefectorial board would just tone down its activities ... but no such luck.


We went to Sabah.

Juniors went to Singapore.

They plan to go to Australia.

The issue here isn't that the prefectorial board is a horrible operation - there are many good qualities (at least under Ms Chong) that justifies the miserable ratio ... the issue here is that the prefectorial board has lost focus. It is no longer a guardian of the school's discipline: it is the organizer, janitor, grapevine, genius camp, elite squad, dating agency, fundraising authority and social platform of the school.

And while we can boast an amazing board, impeccable discipline and an ever ready supply of raw muscle to cart chairs and clean halls ... what price do we have to pay?

*

I will no longer shoot sarcastic comments at the prefects: they deserve respect for doing such a thankless job (and suffering the pressures of an academic orientated society at the same time). I of all people should understand that: my SPM results are average, and nowhere near what I know I'm capable of. As a trade-off I have grown much, learned much. But do I wish such a gruelling experience on anyone else?

No. I do not. St Thomas's has to regain its focus - its prefectorial board should go back to being a guardian of our renowned discipline ... and stop there. No more midnight preparations for Teacher's Day celebrations. No more outlandish trips to far-off places. No more substandard academics.

It has to change, and it has to change now: there are only 60 probation prefects, as of press time.

They are not enough.

Note: the statistics in this post are not an accurate representation of actual events (which basically means I don't have the time to prepare a thesis on this *sorry*). This is meant to be taken as an opinion piece: you may agree or disagree with my points - I don't mind which.

Jylene Is In Form 6!

It was one of those surreal moments in life. I was on the way to class, cursing my self imposed caffiene ban, when I heard Jeryl ask some 5S1 guys - "Where is L6S4?"

And immediately I think: Hey ... That's my class!

"Over here lah!" I yell; took a step forward -

And stared. It was Jylene. With blonde hair, no less. What is she doing in Form 6?! The Taylor A-levels program rocks big time - and she's smart, sharp, fashion minded ... everything a Kuala Lumpian student should be.

What is she doing in hell?

And why exactly was I reminded of Dante's Inferno?

Those who are here can place no hope in death,
and their blind life is so abject that they
are envious of every other fate.

Okay, not those words exactly, but you get the idea. There is a silver lining, however - while I wouldn't wish this fate on any friend with an idea of what he/she wants in life - Jyl's guaranteed a good U if she does well in her STPM. Which she will, no doubt.

But that's enough of the wondering. I'm now enjoying an unintended benefit of her presence: Tay can no longer do weird things to my arm, sanity, and chair.

At least while he's uncomfortable around her. Which is a few more weeks at best. Bliss!