The Kids and The phone

The kids particularly Haziq is very frustrated that they could not see their nenek (grandma). The big notice says that anyone below 12 are not allowed into the ICU to avoid the possibility of infection to the patient.

Haziq said whoever made up that rule are not anywhere near being genius. He also doesn't think it is right to deny the need for a grandchild like him to visit his beloved nenek. He said if they are worried about germs, they should get those safety suit or something. At least he can say hi to nenek.

Something for the Medical Association people to think about eh?

Haziq asked what happen to nenek. I said nenek is very very sick. She is now asleep.

She is sleeping for a looonnnnnnggggg time isn't she. Someone must have forgotten to send out invitation to the bad fairy, he said.

Bad fairy?

Yeah, now that bad fairy had put her to sleep for a long long time.

I suppose we need the prince to come and kiss her.

Not until I get the safety suit, said Haziq.

My mother is indeed a sleeping beauty.

Batrisyia is equally angry for not being allowed to see nenek. She has a lot of things to show and tell nenek. I can imagine. If mum is around she would pester almost to the point of bullying. She will be all over her nenek. My mother doesn't even have a chance. But of course sometimes my mum doze off even when Batrisyia was clambering all over.

Jack Jack? Well, he is fine as long as I am around.

Now the kids are pestering my auntie who came back today. Habislah Mak Itam

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I must say sorry to my friends of whom I didn't even call since I got back. If you did try to call me, you will also notice that you can't reach me. You see I left my phone in Q@tar. :@

Now I don't have anyone's number. :@ except for the very few which I memorised for no apparent reason.

So this is my number. Do tinkle or sms.

Dibelenggu masalah? Terlalu gembira? Gundah gulana? atau apa saja hubungi nombor ini 019-653 6957

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Yesterday, according to the nurse my mum moved a bit. But still no sign of waking up.

My Mum's friends

My mum's friend, our next door neighbour went to visit my mum yesterday. She also told my dad that her Yassin group ladies wanted to recite Yassin at my house tonight.

Imagine this scene.

All heads turn to me very slowly. Face full of expectations. I am the lady of the house. So I must take over all the things that my mum does. At least if it is to be done in the house.

But I didn't take the responsibility solely. They somehow know that I am bad at this. So this lady said she will help me out.

So this eving a few of my mum's friends came, supposedly to help me preparing the food. Sebenarnya bukan dia tolong aku, aku yang tolong dia sikit-sikit. Trust me I didn't take any major role. I only siang togeh and sawi and take the dishes and cups out. Do a bit of washing. Easy roles. The ladies did everything else.

I certainly have never done it before. When I was young, I only help in picking up the food and serving and clearing them when they are done. Usually I took the opportunity to run out of the house for a while. *Hangs head in shame* Now no more running. I am the host.

I had to blink my tears many times when I recited Yassin then. Macam tak percaya aje majlis ni untuk dia. Usually it's for someone else.

When they are done, all of them came to wish me well. There were about 50 ladies. All of them shook my hand and hugged me. My god! Ada sikit rasa macam orang politik pulak. Semua hulur tangan ramai-ramai nak salam nak hug. Before that feeling came to mind, I felt like crying when I shook hands with the ladies I knew since young. My eyes warm and moist.

My mother's condition is still the same. But I think she is taking less volume of air when she breathe. Tomorrow, Tuesday is her 7th day in the coma. I don't know but at times when I talked to her, I felt like she is just sleeping and pop she will open up her eyes all teary eyed and tired from too much sleep.

I would be the happiest daughter if that were to happen. Even for a short while. Just so that I can talk to her.

Even for a short while.

Night Shift

I just realised that me being here is not just for me, but it provides strength to my dad. I was told by my aunties who stayed with him all these while, that my dad was very distraught and cried all the time. They didn't even have the heart to leave him even though they have their jobs to go to.

They were so glad I am back. For my dad of course and they were also worried that I couldn't make it to see my mum. But they had stayed since Tuesday, today they must go home. So we reshuffled schedule being the hospital in a very natural manner.

My lover volunteered to take the night shift from now on. If my mum is concious, she wouldn't be surprised at all. She would say this is next to natural thing for my lover.

My mother adores my lover. She really does. Even way before she met him. Of course that would be my doing promoting his goodness and all. It helps that he is quite a looker too. So those times we giggled because of that fact. But when she did meet him, my lover just swept everyone off their feet with his mild manner and humble ways. He is not exactly prince charming, that would be pretentious. He is just him. Nice and pleasant around my parents. He helped my parents a lot, I must say.

So tonight my lover and my dad are in the hospital. Keeping each other company outside the ICU door. Sleeping on the uncomfortable floor.

Just to be there near my mum.

I am here

I am here. You cannot imagine how thankful I am that we all are here.

When I was here pulling strings to come back home, everyone here in malaysia had their fair share too.

My mum was and is still in coma.

She had a very badly infected leg which somehow had triggered her bad fever. This led to fit and was in a state of coma. When she was admitted, her condition was considered not stable. Her heart beat was getting lower while her blood preesure was getting higher. Her kidneys are not functioning and she is still on the dialysis. She needed assistance to breathe, thus the machine.

The doctor felt that her infected legs must be amputated. Perhaps the only way to save her. Having said that they certainly took a long time to do this. Her condition worsen. My aunts were shouting and my uncle had to pull string to get this done. My dad, I was told, just could not do anything. He was still in a state of shock.

When I got back they already had her right leg removed.

Despite her condition is stable now, looking at her lying there with tubes and still on the machine is something I cannot bear.

Are we all selfish? We want the best for her and we want her to be back with us. But how will she have a good life with the frequent dialysis she has to do and everything else. She knew this very fact that her leg would be removed that she just refused to go to the hospital..Oh Ibu..

Sometimes I don't even know what to pray for her. All I want is for her not to feel any pain and it would be easy for her.

Amin.

Q@tar Airways,11:15p.m

The thing that I feared most is the very thing that is happening to me right now.

It had been a desperate sad days for us. Yesterday we just couldn't get the means and ways for me to secure my passport. We can get our passports, but because myself and the kids still do not possess this RP, we won't be able to come back easily over here. We had to wait for a long time for a new entry visa if we do go back now. The earliest we can get our passports is on Sunday.

But Sunday, could be too late.

Even my lover had problem. Despite he already has an RP, he is not confirmed yet. Thus disabling him to apply for an exit permit. Another procedure to exit the country.

Even at 5 yesterday we were at wits end thinking whose strings we can pull to get us out of here. Irregardless, I was ready to go out and take the risk of not able to enter the country as fast as we would want.

I also wanted to take the chance of going there myself and make a lot of shouting and crying if necessary. I am desperate. When one is desperate they are willing to do just about anything. Have you watched John Q? I don't think I will go to that extent. But I was determined to do something.

But today, fate has it, that we found people who can help. And at the moment I am typing this, my lover is coming back home with our passports which has an RP attached to it. Shukur shukur. I have never been as thankful as this.

I am leaving the earliest flight tonight. Q@tarAirways. 11:15p.m.. I'll be in Malaysia tomorrow at 12 p.m.

The weather it seems is as sad as I am now. Yesterday, the normal Q@tar blue sky and bright shining sun seemed to shy away. It was dark yesterday. It was gloomy. It seems to understand what was going through in me.

I was helpless. There was never any good news when I called. Even earlier, my dad told me my mum's heartbeat has paced lower. I cried with my dad on the phone.

All I want is to be with her now. All I want is to be with my dad

Early this morning it rained here. Thunder and lightning. It does rain here in Q@tar. It is still raining now.

I cried so much, I have almost drained all the tears. I am slowly trying to take a grip of what is happening and what am I to expect.

All I want is to be there in time. If miracle has it that she is conscious again, I am more than thankful.

Ibu, I am coming home. Just wait for me Ibu. Wait for me.

I am here, she is there

I am here

and she is there

I am here

And she is there

I am here

And she is there

My mother is there

Fighting for her life

I am here

Not even sure whether she is even fighting

I am here

Waiting for the bureaucracies

I am still here

Waiting for my passports

She is there

Am not sure whether she will wait

I am here

Feeling helpless


Oh Ibu
Dapat kiranya aku kucup pipimu
Aku ingin cium kakimu ibu
Aku ingin mintak ampun ibu
Tunggu anakmu ibu
Anakmu akan kembali

Ya Allah permudahkanlah perjalananku ini
Aku serahkan kepadaMu apa yang terbaik untuk ibuku
Sesungguhnya aku redha

Carless

We have been without a car ever since we got here, which is 2 months and 9 days today. Among the reasons why we have no car just yet are first of all my lover has no RP. RP for an expatriate is almost equivalent to life. So we can't buy a car. But that is another story, we do not possess a Q@tari driving license. This is must for you to drive here. If you come from the States and probably from UK and Europe, your driving license can be converted immediately. Even if you come from Sing@pore, the country where not many people can drive cars, your license can be immediately converted to a Q@tari license. Unfortunately being the head of OIC and good relations with the Middle East countries do not give Malaysians the privilege to just convert our licenses. (I will blog about driving tests and licenses later.)

What make me feel like banging my head on the wall is we forgot to make an International Driving License before we came here. Bangs head on wall. Bangs head on wall. International driving license can be used for up to six months here. If we have it we could at least rent a car. But fate has it, we didn't bring it over. However we did send our licenses back to my father in law, for him to make the licenses on behalf of us.

We were luck though. The first few weeks we were here, we had Mr. Drive Fast and his wife Ms. Fashion Designer, who drove us around. They helped us buy our basic stuff, pots and pans, dining sets, basic groceries, basic electrical items and all that. They were also the ones who took us to the Embassy and people's open houses. We were ever grateful for their thoughtful help.

Later we took the taxi mostly. Taxis are not very efficient here. We only go to a major shopping complex because it will be easier for us to go back home, since there would be many taxis. Once we had to go to a place out of the shopping complex way to buy Haziq's school uniform. We waited for a taxi to go back home for hours. In the cold, dusty wind with three little children, it is such a drag. I probably wouldn't' mind as much if I were alone or just the two of us. Then came an illegal taxi which my lover didn't want to get in. The second one came, my lover still refused. When the third one came, I said I don't care anymore!

Just last week, we called the taxi to go out. For two days in a row, no taxi came at all. We waited for two hours!

There is also the bus service, which I have not tried. I am eager to try that one. Perhaps this weekend.

But then, read this people.

Yesterday we got our International Driving License. Yippeeee!

We are now proud renter of a Honda Civic.

But that's not all.

My lover also has got his RP!

YEEEE HAAAAARRRRR

Things To do on Friday

I have to tell you this. I was dead bored during the children's Fardhu Ain class. For two hours I do nothing except light chat with the ladies and glance whether my food is finished or not. I mean the ladies are all nice. As a matter of fact is they are all very, very nice ladies.

First of all coming here, I must get myself use to talking to ladies. In my line of work I am used to interact with men. Not many ladies in my department really. My close friends are mostly man. But well I can get myself use to this.

But talking about what they cook last night or what they will cook next week or how they make the curry puff pastry so crispy but yet soft can be a bit hard on me sometimes. Not that I don't welcome cooking tips, I just wanted more than this. Light chatting about who does what and what my kids do are also okay. But is this all I will do every Friday? Gulp!

I could first off all stay at home of course. No one is forcing me to go and join them. Now that Haziq was rejected from the Fardhu Ain class because apparently he is too young. (!@#%^&*!!!!) I don't even have to go there. Plus I don't need to do the pot luck, which would be easier.

But somehow, I still need to be out. To be with other people. Regardless they are group of ladies. It may not be my first choice of friends, but I can always get along. I can do what the Romans do.

So I thought, we should do something during the Fardhu Ain class. Something more beneficial perhaps. Then I remembered Ms. Salw, one of the ladies there. I happen to find out that she is good in tajweed. So I toyed with the idea of having a tajweed or a quran session among the ladies. I was still toying with the idea, when Ms. Salw, unannounced, came to my house one night. Without thinking I popped the idea to her and she gleefully accepted the idea.

But Ms. Salw is really a humble person. She was worried. She didn't want to give people the impression that she is clever by accepting being the teacher. Don't you just love her humble self? She said she is not cleverer than any of us. I said but we are all here to share. Perhaps each of us can learn something from one another. Each of us is a teacher in our own way. In fact that very night I thought her how to google. My only talent.

I also dared myself to go further. Oh dear! Oh dear! I usually am not like this. I said to Ms. Salw, I was thinking if time does permit us on Friday, I would like to do a little read aloud to the "straying" children. She was delighted and excited. She wants it done only in English. She said she like her children to pick up more English words.

So that Friday we started off with three ladies. A few other ladies heard about it and thought of coming in next Friday. Most of the ladies here are already in a formal tajweed class. It is very unfortunate for people like me with little children, can't go, because the class is during working days and on working hours. So if more of these ladies are in the class, we can share even more and perhaps their notes as well. Heh heh. I learned a lot. Ms. Salw was patient, admirable and excellent. She made the class very relax because she doesn't rush things. I wish I have all her attributes.

I read "A Very Busy Spider by Eric Carle" because first I like the book and second it is the only one I have. It is an easy book for the young kids though. So it went well especially for a first timer. The children and I (except my own kids) are first timers. Haziq volunteered to recite two poems and Ms. Salw learned two new words – School's out from Haziq's poem and dimple because I pointed out that her daughter has beautiful dimples.

In my opinion this will do Ms. Salw good because I believe everyone needs to do something that belongs to oneself. Something that one can give to everybody. People acknowledge that it's yours. And soon will be recognize as an individual rather than somebody's wife. (I do not know about the other ladies, but I find this rather annoying.) I heard the embassy is looking for someone who can teach children Quran, so who knows. Let's wish her well.

As for me. Well, I don't have any talent. The only thing I do well is manipulate. I manipulate people so I can gain something in the end. In this case I hope to tap Ms. Salw's brain and the other ladies' notes. Look at me ladies & Gentlemen. Look at me biting my little finger at the corner of my mouth and occasionally laughing. MUAHAHAHAH MUAHAHAHAHA MUAHAHAHA

Shamal Day

The view outside the main door during a minor shamal

Today is a shamal day. Not that it is anything to celebrate though. Shamal is in fact a natural hazard very typical in the middle east region. Shamal is sand or/and dust storm. Today it was dust storm. They are often driven by fierce northwest wind called shamal wind. What else should the wind be called? These winds scour the dust and sand off the surface and loft it into the air.

What I saw was dark sky and strong hailing wind. It was not a scary one. I think it can be worst. You don't see any dust nor sand flying around though. But walking outside today to the Fardhu Ain class you can feel the sand in your face and eyes. My lover who wears contact complains of discomfort and dusty eyes. I am having slight sore throat. My hands felt dusty.

I think due to this frequent sand/ dust storm in this region people here wear what they wear. Just think about it, wearing a veil would definitely keep the dust away from your face and most importantly your nostrils. The men can cover their face with the headscarve they wear.

Oh I forgot to close the kitchen window and there was dust all over the sink, pipes and floor.

But for those who work at site, like my lover, would have it worst. He works at a port at the north of Qtar called R@s L@ff@n. He says there are orange tint everywhere like a bad bad haze..and it is difficult to breathe. He was coughing for weeks. He needs a mask more than the one we used for the Malaysian haze. He needs that mask with the oxygen tank that made you look like you are an alien and talk like Darth Vader.

So I can't go out today and the kids cannot play outside. It doesn't look healthy.

Pot luck menu - Fried rice with those bird chillies and anchovies and prawn. 2L of teh tarik

Oh What A Game

Yesterday Haziq was playing ball with Batrisyia outside the house. I was reading, "Reading Lolita in Tehran" and Jack was running about. Then came two Indian boys or Pakistanis, I don't know, I can't tell the difference. They probably are about Haziq's age or slightly older. Of course children hit off quite well. No introduction needed between them. They played football with Haziq or rather they played among themselves because they are good at dribbling. Haziq is still new to the game or he is also in the making of "kaki bangku" like his dad.

Then Sya got bored and a bit angry because obviously she can't get the ball at all. So I went inside to take another ball. Another girl next door was there so they can kick or throw the ball at each other and leave the boys with their rougher game.

When I went out Haziq was not there anymore so I figured they were bored and Haziq went to play with them instead. So I kicked ball with the girls.

Somehow I turned left where there is little bush across the road. I saw Haziq with his hand raised and the two boys were standing in front of him facing him. One of them had a gun pointing at Haziq's head!

I was shocked! Terrified! In fact, scared!

I shouted, "WHAT KIND OF GAMES ARE YOU PLAYING??!!! STOP POINTING THE GUN AT HIM!" My hands on my hips and probably looking very angry.

The boy with the gun answered, "It's not loaded!"

I said, "I don't care if it is not loaded. You are not playing that game!"

Oh I so wanted to smackhis head. I so wanted to take the gun and crash it to the ground. I didn't.

If the boys answered again I will walked to them and give more earful but they scampered off.

My heart stopped pumping and everything froze when I saw this. Okay it is a toy gun (I assumed) that looks frigging real. It's like a scene in a movie.

I was angry at the boys. The game was disgusting to me! I have never seen children playing that kind of game. They looked so, so, so adult and at one moment so evil.

I was angry at Haziq. He is a gentle boy, Haziq. He doesn't do violent. Oh sure I am no goody parent either. Of course I have bought him toy guns before. He does shoot around with his friends. But never, never at close range with the "victim" hands raised like that.

I was angry at Haziq because in my perspective those are plain bullying and Haziq had allowed him being bullied probably thinking that he was just playing along.

I was angry at myself also because I felt that I should have said more. I am furious.

I told Haziq to me the two kids were bullying him. I also told him never, ever allow anyone to make you play the victim with a game as repulsive as that! Oh Haziq got an earful alright.

What terrifyme most is will Haziq always be open for bullying when I am not around to "protect" him? Oh I am terrified.

Oh friends, am I being paranoid or over reacting? Are those just boys game? Should I just let Haziq play along with whatever game? Should I even interfere? Should I allow him to toughen him up and make him ready to face the real world?

I do not like violent game. I somehow saw that the game was a seed to violence.

What happen to normal games nowadays?