Merry X'Mas & A Happy New Year Everyone!

Merry X'Mas & A Happy New Year Everyone! Time to unwind, be merry, let your hair down (those of us that still have some), and get utterly and totally smackered (not you Muslims, and no drink driving ok?).

Time to get reacquainted with old and close friends, family and enemy;

Time to rest, and drink from the cup of our lives. For it is indeed overflowing with kindness, goodness and happiness. We need to enjoy life and all its small pleasures, for only then, can we know how much the rest of the world is missing;

Time to recharge our worn out batteries, because the battle is yet to be won.

Because :

There are 2.2 billion children in this world.

And

Every 2nd child in this world lives in poverty.
1 in 3 children in developing countries live without adequate shelter.
1 in 5 have no access to safe water.
1 in 7 have no access to health services.
10.6 million children worldwide died in 2003 before they were five (equivalent to the total under 5 children living in France, Germany, Greece and Italy)

Life expectancy for a child born in Japan in 2003: 82 years; Life expectancy for a child born in Zambia in 2003: 33 years

Percentage of 15- to 49-year-olds in Botswana who are HIV-positive: 37.3%; in Swaziland, 38.8%.
Number of children who have been orphaned by HIV/AIDS worldwide: 15 million; equal to the number of children living in Germany or the UK.

The number of children trafficked each year is the same as the number of children under five living in Australia: 1.2 million.
The number of children sexually exploited in the multibillion-dollar commercial sex industry is the same as the number of children living in Belgium: 2 million.

Ranking of the 10 countries where children are most likely to die before their fifth birthday, in descending order:
Sierra Leone,
Niger,
Angola,
Afghanistan,
Liberia,
Somalia,
Mali,
Burkina Faso,
Democratic Republic of the Congo,
Guinea-Bissau.

Source : http://www.unicef.org/sowc05/english/index.html

Aris

YOU BOUGHT A WHAT?

Pardon me? A station-wagon. What was that?? A sta-ti-on wa-gon!!!

But...but... why? Again, the same incredulous "are you a card short old chap?" expression passed through their faces. Again, you could physically see my whole body deflate a few inches in height (width would have been shedloads better but i'm on the short end of the stick here, remember?). I might have just as well be talking to them in Latin. In fact, that would have been perfect - a dead language for a dead concept.

You know, sometimes i wonder why station wagons have such a bad rep in Malaysia. I knew I should have been born in the UK, where the "Estate", as they call it over there, is a close and only slightly inferior cousin to the Range Rover - the ultimate landed gentry express.

Wagons have never taken off in Malaysia. The reason why you see a preponderance of Nissan AD Resorts and Kia Rios on the roads is due more to their bargain basement prices, rather than the fact that they have an extra boot tacked on to the top of the normal one. That the AD Resort is prolly the cheapest Nissan had the rather funny effect of people buying them and then plonking in a ( ) 220bhp turbocharged engine into it - you can tell by their mudguard scraping 17 inch rims, and road scraping suspension and exhaust.

Unlike Nissan, Volvo had it sussed back then, when it came out with its original firebreathing 850 T5 uber wagon. A lot of middle management male Malaysians went out and bought it because of its Q car looks. Not that they wanted to keep the 250bhp turbocharged inline 5 engine secret from the cops. Rather, it was their wives that they were sucessfully duping. "I bought this car because of the kids and you, dearie plops...." rang out loud in many a double storey terraced house in Klang Valley.

Why is it, then, that there exists only a small and dwindling group of hardcore wagoneers in Malaysia, religiously rifling through the Star Classifieds every day in the hope of finding an overpriced Mercedes or Volvo Estate among the scores of saloons on sale? I don't know why they are so unpopular.

It was unpopular when Cliff Richard came out with his first hit single...oooer... back in the middle of the 14th century?... and it's still unpopular now, when Cliff Richard's X'mas single is climbing the charts yet again - like it did the year before, and the decade before that, and.... you know what i mean.

Perhaps its not macho enough. Not man enough, unlike the Storms and Rangers and X-Trails and CRVs that flooded the market. These vehicles are tall and have 4wd. For goodness sake, what can be more macho than a cargo deck lined with Detroit's and Tokyo's finest steel? Perhaps its not "family" enough, like the Unsers and Rias and Odesseys, which came slightly before the 4wd invasion but whose popularity has not waned. Perhaps that was the curse of the wagon - its neither here, nor there. An in-between car - what Paddy Ashdown and his whole Lib Dem party would have driven.

But for god and country man! Wake up! You canna know what you're missing (in your best Star Trek accent please). Let us, firstly, talk about what men and women all around the world can relate to. Size. It may surprise most of you that the average Merc or Volvo wagon, with its rear seats down, has more space than the Land Rover Discovery or the latest 2004 Honda CRV with their rear seats down. What you may not notice is also the fact that wagons are specialist load carriers - the seat base and seat back cunningly fold to create an utterly flat and extremely long load base - from taillights right up to the front seat backs. No huffing and puffing to remove seats from the run of the mill MPV. A normal dining table top for 6 is an easy lunch for a wagon. A 2 door fridge? Easy peasy. A top loading washing machine? After dinner mints. A doberman, a rottweiler, 3 cats in their individual cat carriers, a mad ferret on the loose and 2 goldfish? Noah never had it so air-conditioned good. Believe it or not, the load bay of your Ford Ranger Hurricane (or tornado, or tsunami, or tropical rainstorm or something) is no bigger in length and width than your average executive saloon estate.

Wet your appetite yet? Now, for all those boy (and girl) racers out there, and come on, that would include the entire male population, only that their better halves have no idea who they married, apart from the occasional lapses when the red mist descends in their presence. Dey Macha... what would you really want to drive up and down a twisty bit of tarmac lah?

Option A, a tall, top heavy, front heavy, rear wheel drive 4wd that locks its back brakes every time you even think of braking? One that rolls like the Queen Elizabeth in corners and has the weight distribution so utterly wrong that you end up sliding the rear end in a dramatic group-B style oversteer slide at 30kph?

Option B, an MPV that thinks its a car, but sits you so far up infront and upright that you'll be looking over your shoulder for the 6 iron? One that makes even the Queen E look decidedly unroly. And of course, heaven forbid - front wheel drive. Sacre Bleu. What are they on guv?

Or... ladies and gentle racers... a traditioal rear wheel drive saloon that has even better weight distribution due to some extra sheet metal at the back? One that has stiffened springs and bigger anti-roll bars to cope with the added speed through corners ... I mean... added load carryhing capabilities. Ahem. Sorry.

Which is why, after thinking about it and giving it some serious thought for, oh, about 2 seconds, I went out and bought one. A wagon. A proper, and the original gentlemen's express.

979 words

SNAPSHOTS of LIFE

A short stocky looking man, who looks to be in his 40s, jogging with his arms tight and motionless by his body, shoulders hunched. His arms look well built, quite in contrast to his rather spindly looking legs. If Kramer ran, I would think he wouldn’t be far off from this, his distant cousin, almost 10,000 miles away on the other side of our planet.

Two sisters, laughing hysterically as they careened down the cement rendered slope on their hip in-thing roller shoes. The smaller one, about Nurina Iman’s age, clinging to her bigger sis, Nisaa’s age. She leaned too far forward, lost her balance and fell down, still clinging to her sister’s arm. Still, hysterically giggling.

The 1 year old kid who played chase with his mom. Showing his unalderated pleasure by laughing as only kids can when they play chase.

A group of (Malaysian) Malay boys, all in red t-shirts of one brand or the other. They look far too young and jolly to be part of any gang, but you wonder anyways if it was intentional.

An Indonesian Malay looking man. Wearing a cap, jogging with a broad grin laid across his face, his head rolling from side to side in step with his stride. He got rhythm. He got groove.

A gaggle of Chinese boys of different sizes and probably age, pounding the track and rounding the corner; arms and shoulders all jostling about as if they were on the last bend of a 5,000 metre world championship race. Only they were laughing. They don’t look related, but I don’t think they’re from the same class or year. Perhaps kids from the same neighbourhood. Friendships forged over years and strengthened every evening after school.

Three middle aged men doing Taichi together – individually, but still in a group. Every single afternoon for the past 20 years. Grandmasters in all but name. One of them, stalking mini lobsters from the lake. Proud that he caught 3 for his aquarium. But of course, getting a right ribbing from his Taichi mates for being a tad slow compared to the kids who catch 3 a day.

A 35 year old aid worker, caught indulging. Immersing himself in humanity as they run, roll, jog and dance past him.

Merry X'mas & a Happy New Year.

Aris Oziar, Dec 2004.

Do They Know It's X'mas Time At All?

http://www.buybandaid20.com

For those who know who Bob Geldoff is and the original fund raising song “Do They Know it’s Christmas” released 20 years ago, note that he is remaking it this year, and the song is now No. 1 in UK. I mention this because the proceeds from the song will go towards Sudan and Africa - as it was 20 long years ago.

MERCY Malaysia (www.mercy.org.my) operates in Al-Geneina, West Darfur, in what has been billed by the United Nations as the World’s Biggest Humanitarian Crisis. There are at the moment 2.3 million men, women & children living in makeshift shelters in Darfur and Chad. For these millions of suffering humans, I don’t think they know its Christmas time at all.

MERCY HUMANITARIAN FUND
MAYBANK BANDAR BARU AMPANG, KUALA LUMPUR, MALAYSIA
AC NO: 5621 7950 4126

Raya (Eid) Ramblings 2004

Subject: [MERCY Secretariat] Raya Ramblings

I had no idea this year's Raya holidays would be so eventful. So filled with strong emotions and feelings. If I may, I would like to share it with you in a series of short essays. Beginning with this one, about baby cows and baby humans.

We were slowly making our way to the baby cow. Me in front, setting the pace, with my 2 nieces and 2 nephews not far behind in my footsteps. Slow, because we were trying our best to dodge the many cow pats on the ground, and slow because we didn't want to spook them.

I half expected them to bolt - this was no petting zoo mind you. We had stopped my moms trusted but unreliable Volvo by the side of a padi field, 8 kms from Sg Petani town (I still call it a town, even though it has outgrown this moniker a few times over this past decade). But the baby cows, two of them, seemed oblivious to this pack of city dwellers trying to turn their next half hour or so into a Pets Wonderland experience.

We approached the one lying down first - the bigger of the two, and by its posture, the one that seemed supremely confident of facing whatever we could throw at it (lots of small eager hands I can tell you). Its head was nestled on its side, and the next few minutes with the baby cow was pure magic. The kids were all over her as I pointed out the obvious, in me best Attenborough accent. The squiggly skin that could make flies run, the swishy tail that made sure they did, the spots on its head where the horns would in time grow, the two-toed hooves, the lips and lower teeth which looked just like ours. And look below! Look look, its a girl!

As we pored over every inch of her body under the hot sun, other things slowly grabbed my attention, and the teacher became the student. How long fine hair grew to block insects from flying into her ears. How it too had whiskers, like Leo and Bubbles and Snorkels (our cat owners). And like uncle Aris. Long long thick eyelashes that, had it been on a woman, would have dropped men from 20 feet away.

And those eyes. Huge, soulful, wise beyond her age, reflecting back thousands of years of experience and instinct.

As I sat besides her, staring into those eyes, I silently prayed for a miracle. That one day, mankind would not only make peace amongst themselves, but with the other animals in this world. Perhaps Nisaa & Nurina, the 2 eldest, thought along those lines as well. At the very least, perhaps I may have sown in them the seeds of love and respect towards other living entities. Because they have seen that cows, however differently they look on our delicious plate of beef with ginger and spring onions, are so much like us.... and so much a part of this world we call Earth.

And that Nature is everywhere, if only we stop to look and make an effort to find it. We didn't have to trudge into a multi-storey shopping centre and pay RM8 to get into air-conditioned pens filled with rabbits, hamsters, goats and deer.

All you have to do is step outside.

Aris, Raya 2004