Chapter 3: Day One

We were greeted by this banner when we arrived in Liman Kati.

The new village is not huge; in fact it is quite small you can pretty much cycle through every nook and corner in 3 hours time. Everyone knew everybody there. The roads were narrow. Thus motorcycles (sans the helmet) and bicycles were their main means of transports. The village is not like a typical ‘kampung’ with coconut trees by the beach like what I’ve always imagined a village would be when I was small. The word “new” in front of the word “village” means this place is a cross between the old ‘kampung’ and modern residential area. Mostly terrace houses are there – some big; some small; some long; some wide; some double-storey; some single; some are house-cum-kopitiam; some are made of woods; some are made of bricks some in high ground; some in low land and some along the gradient. The village is surrounded by mostly rubber trees as most of the residents are rubber tappers. They would wake up very early in the morning (as early as 3am) to work in these trees and about 7 am they will get their kids to school and after that go back to work. Some work in the construction business and trading, and they are usually considered the wealthier ones in the village. I’m not sure about the population of the village but I’m guessing about 800 plus minus. Most villagers are older folks as the young bloods have gone looking for better opportunities in bigger cities. The younger ones who are still dependent on their parents will take on the same cycle as their older brothers and sisters. Many of them are not highly educated, or at most finish their secondary school and after that work as foreman, hair dresser, sales persons, construction workers, etc. You name, they’ve got it except professionals like doctors, engineers, lawyers, and accountants. Higher education is not their concern – getting a job right after the secondary school is. Their parents, although do tell them to study hard but lack the motivation and emphasis on the importance of higher education for they too have not been encouraged by their parents and their parents before them.

The purpose of us going there was to address this issue. Our focus was on the younger kids (teach ‘em while they are young) not on the older villagers per se. Our mission was to motivate them to proceed with formal education in higher learning institute, be it in college or universities. Hopefully one day they would have many top scholars from Liman Kati. This task was laid ahead of us. We knew it was not easy to change the mindset in a week’s time but we hoped to make a difference no matter how small.

The road was clean and the air was fresh. Staring eyes followed our bus as we rolled past the welcoming banner and headed straight towards the one and only primary school in Liman Kati – SRJK Liman.


We were greeted by the village head and fellow committees, and teachers. Pleasantries and introductions were exchanged. I had no choice but to also speak in Mandarin. This was the start of me speaking Mandarin the most in my entire life; including speaking to teachers and kids. Sometimes I manage to speak in full sentence and coherently which was quite a feat I never knew I could do. My proficiency in Mandarin had improved gradually throughout the service. We then proceeded to take a photo that also appeared in a Chinese daily the next day.

It’s good to learn Chinese people. So you can read.

The teachers showed us our command center – an unused classroom. We unloaded all our stuff there. Coincidentally, it was recess time and we had our first encounters with the kids. And oh my…they were so cute, small and vulnerable. Some cutsies were clearly afraid of those big-sized ‘ko ko’ (brother); some were downright friendly and bubbly; some were clearly bullies with ‘along’ look. I thought they were innocent…but I was wrong as I later learned.

Let me digress from the story to describe how we got all the collaboration between the village committee and the school counterpart. One of the things to settle during our end-semester break was to find a location to do the service. It was not easy to get 26 families to foster-care for the 26 of us strangers. The process involves contacting the village committee, discuss with them and they will then decide to accept or not. Liman Kati is no different. Like any area is represented by a political party, Liman Kati is under MCA. Contacts were established, meetings were held and since there was a similar service done 10 years ago by another institute, they would very much like us to do it again. The village counterpart and the MCA would fund our expenses. A call for families in Liman Kati to volunteer to adopt orphaned university students received warm responses. Next would be proposing our purpose to the school teachers. Backed by the village head and committee, the school teachers agreed after they were convinced that we would do good instead of wreck havoc together with the kids. So up until this stage, we were pretty set – we’ve got the location; families have agreed to house us; we’ve got the kids; and the villagers were all supportive of our course. On and off, whenever we have achieved significant milestone in our preparations, we would send updates to inform the village committee so that they know what to expect and how much funds were needed.

Let’s now come back to the story. While waiting for the kids to finish school, we had our lunch in a small shop that became our regular eating place – there weren’t much other choice anyway.

Look, Kim Foh, Me. And no we did not finish all the food by ourselves. That table sat another few more fellas.

We headed back to the school where the adoption ceremony began. We felt like orphan kids for sale.

The girls were first to be ‘sold’.

The parent/grandparent/kid would come forward and reached into the tin containing our names and fished out one. That was how we were picked one by one.

Guys turn for ‘sale’. Lelong~ lelong~ ~

After the ceremony ended, we went back home together with out foster family (I’ll intro my foster family later). I suppose at our respective house all of us did the ‘warm-up-and-get-to-know-you-better’ session the way any sensible person would do under such circumstances.

In the evening about 4pm we had to go back to the school to prepare for tonight’s opening ceremony. I was lent a motorcycle myself by the neighbour of my foster family. Good thing I got my license. We got the stage decorated and rehearsed our routine for one last time. Some kids were already at the school – they hang out there like it was their backyard. What surprised me was how quickly they clicked with us. They weren’t shy at all. I guess they were excited that at least something fun is going on in their village. There is not much entertainment in the village – no Internet, no computer games (though there’s a cyber café but need to pay), no Xbox, no shopping complex (nearest The Store is in Kuala Kangsar). Anyway, they bonded with us and we were like their buddies in no time. They would tell us stories – kids-say-the-darnest-things kind. What was even more astounding is that there were also quite a number of rude boys and girls alike. They use foul language like conjunctions in their sentences and they would talk about ‘hamsap’ (dirty) things. Something tells me that they’ve got to know about the birds and the bees in the wrong way. Despite all that, we were glad that the kids were very receptive of us. All the ice-breaking plans were really unnecessary – they had melted before the sun came. I thought if these were city kids, chances are they won’t be so excited about our programmes, let alone see them playing around after school. They would prefer spending time in front of the computer, or attend tuition, or sleep, or go shopping. Even if they come, they would come under the tugs of their parents/guardians. They won’t chase and jump around; they won’t tell you ridiculous things; they might even outsmart you; they won’t come riding in motorcycles triple their size without helmets; they won’t show you how to ride a bicycle ala ‘mat rempit’ ; they won’t sneak up behind and jump on you for a piggy ride. They would probably be too well-mannered and just smile at you when you speak to them. So our coming here was like grown-up city kids meet the ‘kampung’ kids that resulted in culture clash. As much as we were trying to teach them all the right things, we learned as much of all the wrong things from them. They were like that because of their upbringing and surrounding influences. Who to blame?

The dust settled. The time showed 8.00pm. Parents, children, teachers and village VIPs all arrived and gathered in the school hall (actually I don’t know what to call it because this assembly area is also the canteen). Ok let’s name it hallteen. So we were all in the hallteen for the opening ceremony. Kids being kids, they were restless in no time and were running about the places. We tried out best to get them seated but the noise level was pretty high.

Some dude giving the opening speech in Hallteen.

The officiating of rural service in Liman Kati.

The MC of the day. Melvin and Ngai Yoong were wonderful in MCing.

Now this is what the hearts are for. One by one we presented our foster family with the hearts with our names written on the them. After pausing for a photo shoot, we would insert them jigsaw-puzzle like into the frame that we had earlier put up. These hearts were suppose to remain there for the duration of the service.

Kim Foh said he ate curry almost everyday.

Getting ready to go up the stage for a pledge.

Look led. I just followed what he said. It sounded like “We, the students of UTP, would do our best to ……”. I don’t remember because it was in Mandarin. After the pledge, it was dancing time.


‘Monkey’ standing behind included Pei Chie, myself, William, Suet Yeng, Look, and even the project director Kha Loon. What to do….lack of practice, that’s why.

Opening ceremony ended about 10 pm or so. We all had a short meeting in our command center before returning to out respective home.

When I got home, here’s what they were doing.

The woman in the middle is my foster mother and she’s the grandma of these two kids – my foster brother (kai di) and my foster sister (kai mui). Everybody calls Grandma ‘Jau Po Po’ for Grandma Chew. Kai Di’s name is Chew Bo Ann, and Kai Mui is Chew Shu Ping. Their father work in Singpore and come back for a visit or two whenever he could but those are too far and few in between. Their mother left them when they were younger because she could not stand the mundane and poor lifestyle there. They have been brought up by Grandma Chew in this very house.

The left room is their bedroom. Outside is my transport, my motorcycle.

Luckily there were obedient and not too rude. Study wise, they were okay – they could do their homework on their own. Shu Ping’s math is good. Bo Ann likes basketball but he was always ignored because he wasn’t good enough in the eyes of the ‘big boys’. Bo Ann is closer to me. In fact he would follow me wherever I go. Shu Ping is colder and quite fierce at times. She has her gang of ‘sista’ aka ‘chi muis’ – about 3 of them. Bo Ann is more prone to being bullied. At that time, Shu Ping was 11 years old (std 5) and Bo Ann 10 years old (std 4). Grandma Chew treated me well. She would cook at night and we would all sit in the kitchen for a simple dinner of few dishes and rice.

That is the kitchen table where we dine.

The house is a single-storey and they lived across the main highway further down from Liman Kati. Suet Yeng and Kim Foh lived across the freeway, also further away from Liman Kati. That’s why I was given a motorcycle for the ease of movement. My room was next to the kitchen. Grandma Chew sleeps in the same room as the kids to watch over them. Sometimes the other kids would ask about their family and they were usually replied curtly or simply ignored. Kai Di and Kai Mui are fine kids, trying to live the best they could. Simple life but they seem okay. Grandma Chew is weathered, but she knew her job is not done. Shu Ping wants to be a teacher and Bo Ann’s ambition is to become a fireman.

I wish them all the best and I hope I’ll be good enough a brother to them. Only time can tell.

Coming up next:- Chapter 4: Day Two