In late November 1999, or was it December? [after proving myself worthy for local varsity; though attaining grades which spelt D.E.A.D.D or alternatively of course, D.D.E.A.D (I took general studies, math, biology, physics and chemistry for STPM)] - my band of friends and I; the remnant conglomerate of neighbouring classes, left Johor discouraged, lethargic and feverish. Accompanying us back to home soil were scenes, unexpected from our journey; bitter nuggets of experience from our failed quest to locate and hold jobs in Singapore: lunches consisting of salted fries shaken in brown bags and coffee; getting turned down over the public phone for being non-residents and Malaysian; walking across the causeway from Singapore to Johor in the noon heat. The only redeeming experience was the Tuak which was offered to us by my cousin on our first night there, at his place. How sweet and peaceful the sleep of exhaustion, coupled with drunkedness. How comically frustrating it was for us that each apartment block looked just like the next, in my cousin's area of public housing. And we were lost daily.
On the night which we arrived in Kota Raya from Johor, while developing panic from the knowledge that public transportation to a friend's area (we were to spend the night there in his place) had ceased operations, I stood too near a pothole, one rainbowed with gasoline thin over the collected water, when a speeding bus passed.
On the night which we arrived in Kota Raya from Johor, while developing panic from the knowledge that public transportation to a friend's area (we were to spend the night there in his place) had ceased operations, I stood too near a pothole, one rainbowed with gasoline thin over the collected water, when a speeding bus passed.
I would never have been able to make the trip with my current bladder temperament.
And so, our dreams of banding together while working were relocated to Malaysia. But truth be told, I've never seen a cleaner country than in Singapore (I've not travelled a lot, you see). In contrast, I remember one of them pointing towards the smoke which was spewing forth from within Johor's boundaries, while we were dragging our pale and sweat laden bodies across the causeway. Home, I said, but only to myself - a silent battle cry.
And so, our dreams of banding together while working were relocated to Malaysia. But truth be told, I've never seen a cleaner country than in Singapore (I've not travelled a lot, you see). In contrast, I remember one of them pointing towards the smoke which was spewing forth from within Johor's boundaries, while we were dragging our pale and sweat laden bodies across the causeway. Home, I said, but only to myself - a silent battle cry.
Eventually however, all of us found something to do in Suria KLCC [the irony in retrospect, that we met a Malaysian permanent resident (P.R.) in Singapore who tsked away at the Petronas Twin Towers and likened them to two gargantuan ears of corns; but otherwise he added, a useless structure], by a way, almost Russian Roulette - we split up, walked about, and basically looked for signs of open employment at each shop lot. I turned into the first shop I saw with a 'sales person wanted' sign, and suprisingly, landed the interview. Thus I became a sales promoter, selling eyewear and other related products, while the rest spent the next five months together, perfecting their stints as waiters in an outlet specialising in teas, a few lots away.
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*Note: Illustration Used - Source
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