FANTASTIC SPEED AHEAD.

At the rate, Chris and Amy are accelerating their speed I would be collecting dust behind their trails. Ho, ho, ho, lucky thing I am now awake from a long slumber otherwise I would find it very difficult even to adjust my tempos but whatever happens, I must still tag along with them so that I would not lose my way.

Chris has taught me how to post pictures in the blog but I am still unable to follow his simple instructions. Can anyone help me? I would like to post some pictures of beautiful scenery which could make my blog more interesting to read.

Ever since he came back from a short break, Chris has been posting diligently in his blog daily. I just wonder how he managed to recollect his pasts so accurately. I wish that I have some of his abilities. I am just asking for a small fraction of it but no more or less. The way he put things to perspective and interesting to read made me wonder how did it........????????

I have to stop to catch some breaths before continuing to pursue him, ha, ha, ha. I am like an old rusty car which needs an overhaul but unfortunately most of my parts are obsolete. He seemed to be encouraging me to move on with my blog with the message which reads "slow and steady wins the race" but definitely and for sure, I would not be able to match their speeds and abilities like what the late Perry Como sang the song entitled: "It's impossible".

THE VIRGIN LANDS IN KENINGAU.

Keningau of today is so much different from those early days when we landed there some forty years ago. Today, most of the virgin jungles there are almost bald as the result of the active logging activities. The incomes from the sales of the round logs sold overseas had turned many people into rich tycoons who to a certain extent were responsible for the developments and prosperity of the once remote town in the interior. However, timber businesses had dwindled down these days due to very few areas left for logging.

The fresh air in Keningau was then "different" from the present days. There were not many industrial developments, not many cars and logging vehicles plying in town thus the percentage of pollution was very low. We were very fortunate that we were given the opportunity to teach there for three years before we left for Kota Kinabalu, the capital of Sabah. In the early mornings, we used to breathe the cool, fresh and clean air. The forests were intact and untouched by the loggers then. The population was small and the people seemed to know each other well. It was a peaceful place to live in where we could leave the doors of our rooms unlocked during our teaching sessions from mornings to late noons. There were three Peace Corps volunteers from the USA teaching in the same school. There were a lot of friendly people who would ocassionally ask us to join them for their Western foods. You believe it or not that that was our first taste of Western food. Peace was everywhere during those days.

Today, with the influx of the foreigners from Indonesia and the Phillipines, the peaceful atmosphere is no longer there. Petty thefts and extortion are quite prevalent, however, the matters are under the control and supervision of the Police authority. The foreigners form almost a third of the pettty traders selling in the town.

I have not visited Keningau for almost a decade but before I retired, I had the opportunity of staying in the Perkasa Hotel for a week during our offficial duties. It was almost thirty years ago since I left Keningau. Coming back to the old good days during our teaching years then, especially at some weekends, we would go picnicking at a riverside with the students. Wow, we learnt a lot from those kids who taught us how to speak Kadazan and Murut, their local dailects. Though it sounded a bit strange but we managed to pick a few words but today I just could not remember due to lack of practice.

The Community hall was some two miles from where we stayed. I used to have the tendency to update myself with the national news. As I had no transport, I had to walk up and down the hilly road alone for at least thrice a week to read the "The Straits Times" which was unavailable for sale in town. I never regret walking which really made feel good. I perspired all over my body with my heart beating exceptionally fast. During our three years of stay there, the "Harvest Festivals " was the most exciting celebration ever which we were looking forward to every year. People from all walks of lives who came from different parts of the State and countries to join in the celebration. The "Sumazau" which is the traditional dance of the Kadazans and Dusuns attracted many foreigners from Europe, Japan, China, USA and other countries. It is a very graceful dance which both men and women glide with the "flying" movements and yells. The blow pipe competition attracted many participants. The darts are normally blown through a about 4" in diameter of a bamboo stick with about 6 to 7 feet in length. It was fun to watch some darts blown by the new participants landed somewhere else instead of the targets. There were woos and ahs among the friends of the participants. Well, the local tribes competed against each other. Wow, we could see how accurate these competitors were hitting the targets at each blow. The eventual winners walked off with their prizes but for those unsuccessful ones, better luck next year.

For those who have not visited Sabah in general, please take this opportunity to see the different cultures and way of living among the different types of peoples not forgetting the beautiful beaches, islands and places to visit.

LAND OF NO RETURN.

It has been quite a long while since I last posted in my blog. Frankly speaking, not only had I run of materials and ideas but the fact is that I felt shy because I was and am still tagging miles behind Chris and Amy who had created a big gap for me to catch up with them. Anyway, I must adopt the 'never-say-die' attitude by fighting against time to make my presence felt just like Senator Clinton's last lurch before reaching the finishing line, ha, ha, ha. Well, I don't mean that I could over-take or beat them but to continue producing more posts to avoid myself from further embarrassments, he, he, he. It is just impossible but the least I could do is to contribute by posting regularly, ho, ho, ho, Sad but I just cannot escape from reality and the naked truths, right?

We heard some stories about the 'head hunters' in the North Borneo but what the heck, we thought that if we had stayed back home all the same we would have to fight for survivals anyway. Why not face the real challenges even though there were such risks and rumours. It was some forty-four years ago, when my wife (fiancee then) and I left our hometown in Penang, with less than two hundred dollars (fortunatelty, the cost of living was pretty low then) in our pockets heading for an unknown place called Keningau. It was a journey of no return without any knowledge of whether how long we would stay on with our new jobs. I must admit that we are still grateful to the late Father Fung (who later became the first Chinese Bishop) who interviewed and recruited us for the teaching posts at the Brothers' College in Penang to teach in Keningau. We knew nothing much except that the birth place of my father was in a remote town called Tenom in Sabah.

The costs of the passages from Penang to Jesselton, (presently known as Kota Kinabalu) were borne by the school. We spent one whole day travelling in a train from Penang stopping in Kuala Lumpur where we then hopped into the southward bound train to Singapore. We spent a night there before the next day we took a small boat from the jetty to the steamship anchored in the open sea. I really did not know the rationale behind it as to why the ship was not allowed to anchor at the harbour then. The sea journey was not so pleasant as we were travelling during the monsoon months of December and January. We spent five days tossing about in the steamship crossing the rough South China Sea. We were fortunate that we could withstand the journey and did not vomit. We reached Jesselton after five days of torturous journey fighting for our physical balances in the ship slicing through the rough stormy sea.

That same morning, we were met by the missionaries at the harbour. We had some "tim sum", Chinese assorted breakfast before continuing our journey by a train to Tenom, the place where my father was born. We were warned not stand by the windows of the train as the ashes from burning coals at the steam engine would fly with down stream winds landing on some passengers' clothings with dotted holes. It was quite scary but it was true as we noticed that some passengers were complaining about the misfortunes. Beaufort, another small town, is half way in between Kota Kinabalu (formerly, Jesselton) and Tenom, we had to travelled along the snake-liked railway tracks built very close to the land adjacent to the Padas River. I felt very much relieved after reaching Tenom thinking that it was end of the journey but we had to travel almost another 30 miles of the bumpy gravel roads for another hour before reaching Keningau. The kind priests there had pre-arranged our accommodations where I had to stay with a Chinese family while Elsie stayed in the teachers' quarters which was within walking distance. The people there were very friendly and we felt very much at home. We could ask for their assistances if there was a need to.

Obviously, we were referring to our experiences based on our journey from Penang to Keningau which was an unknown land to both of us then. Jobs in Penang were scarce and hard to come by during our time thus we had practically no choice but to take up the challenge to teach in the "land of no return". We knew that there was turning back but to proceed on our adventurous journey.