Happy Halloween! Here are some two sentence stories from my not-so-big brain (except for one brilliant piece by Godop). If you want to add on...please do:
Dream Man
She killed the man of her dreams. She then wondered if he'd still be dead when she awakens.
Two Men I by Godop
Two men facing each other in a train coach, one asked the other,
"Do you believe in ghosts?"
"No," he chuckled, then vanished.
Two Men II
Sadness overcame the first man. He lamented to no one but himself,
"Why am I only visible to people who believe."
Rejected Calls
For the past two hours I've been rejecting tonnes of calls from her and then she sends a text,
"I'll be waiting for you at home."
I was at her funeral.
Best Friends
Although we've grown apart, Tommy and I were best friends since we were boys. It must hard for him to talk to me now ever since his mother convinced him I don't exist.
My Son
My six-year old son James was always fascinated to see how things work by taking them apart.
His sister's dolls, his race cars, his brother's guitars and now I'm digging a hole in the backyard to hide our neighbour's kids.
My Wife's Headache
Even though she has this constant pain at the side of her head, my wife never fails to provide me three meals a day and a kiss on the cheek before I leave for work.
How am I going to tell her that she's been dead for two years and headache is because I smashed her head in with my sledgehammer one drunken night. Staying Alive The moment I saw my limp body on the operating table, I knew the pills worked. The only problem is there was this horned man coming in my body and the heart monitor started beeping again. Beautiful Eyes Ever since he was a boy, he had an undying passion for a woman's beautiful eyes. Now on his deathbed, he insists that his collection of 300 pairs of eyes be buried with him.
I wish all of you the worst of nightmares and hope Freddie pays all of you a visit..
Most probably the manliest drinks of all time, aligned with the fight scenes in Fight Club and probably with the amount of manliness the new Expendables movie has, is the full flavoured, unassuming scotch whisky.
Known as the Water of Life in the early days, Scotch whisky was said to have healing properties. No, instead of being sloshed, William Wallace had real guts and gusto to take on the King of England, HRH King Longshanks!
Over the years, like everything typically American (go see how they and the rest of the world play football), they tried to distil Scotch, fucked it up and came up with this whiskey drink they named after a county in Kentucky, Bourbon. I ain't dissin' the drink, but the primary difference, to me is the spelling and the usage of sour mash.
Now if you look at Jack Daniel's you could ask yourself: What is Tennessee Whiskey or you could say that Mr. Daniel's could be pulling off and American within America..Americanception; or you could do what I do and shut the hell up and drink!
Now, to distract you from the fact that Jack Daniel's isn't a bourbon, here's a poem on spelling:
Whisky or Whiskey
A Scotsman who spells
Whisky with a n ‘e’,
should be hand cuffed
and thrown head first in the Dee,
In the USA and Ireland,
it’s spelt with an ‘e’
but in Scotland
it’s real ‘Whisky’.
So if you see Whisky
and it has an ‘e’,
only take it,
if you get it for free!
For the name is not the same
and it never will be,
a dram is only a real dram,
from a bottle of ‘Scotch Whisky’.
In KL, regardless if we hit the clubs in Changkat, pubs in PJ or the fuck coffee shops in Brickfields..as long as there's a few friends feasting over a/a few bottle(s) of blended or single malt scotch, there'll be different styles of drinking.
I'm not saying you are doing it wrong..I'm just going to evaluate the whisky drinkers by their mixers..beginning with the all time Malaysian favourite:
The Basic Drinkers
Many a times we see the wannabe Ah Beng-sters, Ali-sters (kinda cool, actually) or even Raj-sters buy bottles and bottles of whiskies and when the waiter comes to them and ask: Mixer? Out comes the cola and ice.. Oh Lord, not only are they killing the whisky's taste with the taste of the cola, but the ice actually waters down the whole thing leaving nothing to be enjoyed besides cold sugar water!
These people usually:
Don't like the taste of whisky
Believe the added caffeine and sugar will help them get high faster
Stick to milk if you don't like the taste of whisky
The Hipsters
Now they might choose a non-cola mixer, but don't get me wrong, these people also aren't able to enjoy a nice glass of whisky.
At one glance, you'd think they are more refined by mixing a non-cola drink in their whiskey. But in reality regardless if they indulge in a dash of green tea or even a quart of hot chocolate (I don't know how it tastes like), this way of drinking whisky is only good for their hobo-looking, iPhone dialling, empty framed, snow cap wearing sorry asses.
Oh, these are also the people who fuck up wine by adding 7-Up, grape juice, lemon, etc... Bastards!
The 9.5s
These guys, almost pure class. They are the type who know not to fuck up the drink with A&W Root Beer or bastardly tomato juice but yet don't want the full dosage of the flavour of whisky in their mouth.
These guys can be spotted drinking whisky with water and ice, ginger ale, soda or even on the rocks. Almost close to pure perfection but not quite.
Ladies, these are the guys you should date and will be great lovers in bed..
The 'Like a Sirs'
Now these guys take it to a different level.
These guys are the epitome of exquisiteness of whom celebrate art as they yearn to take on and overcome the greatest challenges in life.
Whisky with a splash of water in a proper whisky glass, a tulip shaped glass.
A splash of water, they say will ignite the full taste of the whisky and its aroma will rise boldly according to the shape of the glass and evoke every nasal sense, sending euphoric signals to the brain to raise the glass and let the fluid flow past the lips to caress every inch of your mouth leaving it indulgently lost in the golden comfort of malted barley provoking a deep hunger for this perfectly crafted elixir which for years matured patiently within the confines of the sturdiest of oak casks ensuring the body and colour is preserved over at least three years.
This man doesn't down his whisky, he toasts every sip to the craftsmanship and beauty of producing a gentlemen's drink
This man drinks not because he can, he drinks because he is
This man will develop a strong passion towards the arts and a deeper appreciation towards artistry
This man is worldly with oceans of knowledge and wealth of opinions that he is ever willing to share
This man, sadly, is not me...yet
A manly drink, maybe...but it's drinkers can be pussies - Darian Henry (with Vishaal Vickram while setting Diandra Soliano right)
Notice there are no damn pictures today..Why? Because Nuffnang already has fucked me over for the past 4 years without giving me a cent...so, why should I promote another brand?
Here is first-hand experience from what I saw,
heard, tasted, touched and smelt at Bersih 3.0… in no way am I accusing you of
lying or will accept any accusations if my post does not serve your ideal political
purpose.
1100h;
Seri Kembangan
Still at home, I contemplated on whether I
should go for the rally or stay home since I don’t really like the approach of
the rally as I’ve felt that the cause is good but the rally is somewhat
tainted.
At the same time, I was actively texting
and reading on Twitter about on-site updates.
I decided to put on a purple T-shirt just
to say I’m not an active protester and if cameras were to catch a group photo,
I’d be able to stand out.
The guy in purple here is not me, of course :)
1230h;
Kelana Jaya LRT Station
Arrived at KJ Station; the drive was pleasant.
No roadblocks or traffic but I am coming from one corner of the world.
Surrounding the station, the amount of cars
parked everywhere were massive. I had to park near a nearby college while
another friend, Sandesh, parked at the church.
Tonnes of people were in yellow and every
other colour. No harm or ruckus but they see you holding a bottle of water and
have a scarf in the other hand, they give you that slight nod, either they’ve
identified another supporter or I was supposed to know the master plan or something.
1320h;
Pasar Seni
We got down and things were still calm. There
were people praying in a group. Some joined in, others walked on.
Praying in a group at Pasar Seni LRT Station
Then, further down, A. Samad Said was
praying with a fellow telling people that they can join in or not disturb.
A. Samad Said
At the entrance of Central Market, the
rally was gaining in numbers. The Unit Amal were omnipresent to help out.
Before long, the Unit Amal guys started
forming a human shield and made everyone march behind them. We found ourselves
in between Ambiga and a yellow zeppelin. They had a green anti-Lynas one.
They had shit for hailers, but I’m pretty
sure Ambiga said something like to march as far as we can then we sit.
1345h;
Moving from Central Market
Firstly, I am shit in KL roads. So, on we
marched. I was still at the front of the parade. Some say we moved in a
roundabout way. I only recognised a Reggae Hotel and we turned left towards
Jalan Tun Razak (I think).
With fire in their bellies, hope in their hearts and conviction in their words
Many people applauded and cheered from the
streets and the marching voices grew louder with chants that were consistent to
the cause. Then, it all changed.
Chants started to sound rather weird: BN Hancur, Kami tak nak pembunuh, Najib
sial, UMNO hancur, Reformasi, etc were going on loud and strong.
I wasn’t too happy with this. I might be a
little stupid and not able to comprehend well but, wasn’t this rally apolitical?
Wasn’t this about clean and fair elections?
1425h;
Standstill at Masjid Jamek
At about this time, the march came to a
halt.
The leading vehicle was stationed at the
entrance to Dataran Merdeka while I was at the Burger King near the Masjid
Jamek LRT Station.
Orders to start a sitting protest worked
well for about 30 seconds till the Unit Amal came barging in, escorting Anwar
Ibrahim, Lim Kit Siang and a few others to the front.
Duduk Bantah
People had to stand to make way and there
was a lot of pushing and shoving around. I realised that this was my chance to
move forward.
I locked my arms in between two Unit Amal
personnel and pushed my free ticket to the front. When asked: Are you in Unit Amal?
I replied: Does that matter? I thought we are brothers…
I got within a few meters from the pick-up.
Anwar announcing the success of Bersih 3.0
However, their arrival caused chaos and a
heightened sense of demonstrating, despite the heat. Ambiga and Anwar spoke
citing the rally a success and thanked the 250,000 people who came out, before
announcing the end of the rally and asked everyone to go home.
1455h;
Moving towards razor wires
Shortly after thanking the crowd for coming
and asking them to go home; the pick-up started moving towards Dataran Merdeka.
Ambiga urging everyone to go home
Mixed messages? Reversed psychology?
The crowd started moving vigorously as the cheers
grew louder, the chants grew weirder and I got stuck near the Bar Council.
I can’t disclose how I got there but I did,
I was again about 5 meters from Ambiga, Anwar, Kit Siang, Izzah (she is pretty)
and so on.
At about this time, tensions were rising
with one group singing Negaraku while more were chanting: Dataran! Dataran! and Buka!
Buka!
The police personnel were standing firm and
quietly behind the road barricades, behind the razor wires. They were generally
unarmed – no shields, no helmets, no batons, no guns!
Razor wires after being flattened
Behind them, however, there were about four
trucks and more Federal Reserve Unit cops on standby. They moved into formation
but were in no way showing signs of being aggressors, at that point.
15XXh;
Hell breaking loose
I was paying attention to the chants from a
person on the pick-up.
I’m not sure what he said things were just getting
restless.
I turn to see the unarmed cops running for
their lives! They were chased by some 100 people who have crossed the razor
wires!
The aggressors this time were the
demonstrators whom have breached the razor fences. I too crossed to get a
closer look.
The protestors kept hurling all sorts of
stuff at the police, bottles, road barricades and traffic cones were among the
favourites!
Water cannons against road signs and stuff
The FRU started moving forward followed by
the trucks that began spraying water. I tried to stand my ground until I hear
this weird boom and I see a grenade-like object heading my way.
Tear gas!
The gassing has begun
I fucking ran from the place.
There was a bottleneck at the razor wires.
I put on my swimming goggles and covered my mouth and nose with a bandana. I saw
a guy falling down onto the razor wires and people tried to help, some were
pushed. I got a few cuts on my legs.
The gas crept in slowly.
The back of my neck felt it first. The smoke
was too thick to see. I hear people shouting: Pegang baju gua… Lari! Lari!
By this time, my nose and throat started to
burn as well as any part of my body that was uncovered! My eyes hurt as hell!
People were running and offering salt and
water all around.
Before I could recover, another wave of
tear gas struck; this time from high up. I couldn't tell if it came from the railway lines or from the top of the buildings.
They waited for the wind. Sneaky bastards!
Some people rushed into the Bar Council; others ran; even
non-participating people bailed. No one stood still!
This repeated itself for quite some time.
15XXh,
Hope for humanity?
As I’ve stated earlier, I’ll call it as I
see it and by no means does this mean whatever you have experienced and saw is
less important or true.
Retreating from the razor wires to
somewhere much safer was a little hard to do as a lot of people still refused
to move back quickly.
People were rubbing salt on each other and
themselves while finding water to drink. A 500ml bottle was shared with 8
people.
By the time I got to the Reggae Hotel,
things seemed to ease up a little. I sat on the floor and people came to my
aid, offering all kinds of remedies. One Malaysian Chinese gave me tissues and
another Malaysian Malay offered me her towel to wipe my face.
They were unharmed.
A man pulled up with two bags of ice to
help manage the burns.
A friend indeed
Suddenly, that weird sound went off again
and canisters were launched our way. I didn’t understand. It was a relatively
long way from Dataran Merdeka and everyone there we only seeking refuge.
The cops with their tear gasses and water
cannons made sure that the only retreat was to head towards Plaza Rakyat and
Menara Maybank.
Seeing that it is about 26 hours till kick-off at the National Stadium between bitter rivals Malaysia and Singapore for a ticket to the World Cup Qualifiers, I've decided to let you in on a few ways to get you in the mood.
How to prepare for a Harimau Malaya (Malayan Tigers) game?
1. Secure Entry
Make sure that if you aren't as Lucky as Ramon and Mario, you get your tickets early! Don't go around like a fucking hooker on crack trying to ask everyone, anyone and anywhere..including Twitter for tickets the moment the word is mentioned.
So, I bought tickets for 9pm..
Dei, the match is at 8.30pm! You better go early..and you got how many tickets, hor? Got extra ke?
The tickets...Captain America la!
Memang Douchebag la lu, bro!
2. Energize
Remember that games kicking off at 8.45pm can end at midnight. So, make sure you have enough water, food, rest, etc to sustain your energy levels.
Frankly speaking, cheering is almost as tiring as playing the damn sport because when we cheer, often or not our levels will peak in direct retaliation to what's happening on the field - be it a wrong offside call, a Jewish lad kicking the ball..or even dismal performances by our own lads. Therefore, the more often things happen, the more you peak in excitement and you get tired..
3. Seat Right
Generally, there are a few sections when it comes to seating at a stadium.
VIP Boxes Here's where politicians and big names watch the games. It's believed that within the tinted glasses is a room where you can indulge to your heart's desire.
There even was a rumour that there were strippers, cocaine and midget whores inside a Manchester United - Cardiff or something game.
Grand Stand This is where rich folks pay more to see the same game from the same distance as the Rakyat Jelata from the other side.
Usually occupied by kids who were bullied in school and think they are cool now.
Home Seats The whole stadium except the top corner of the stadium and a few more rows
Ultras Malaya Look out for people at top corners of the stands usually singing and drumming..sometimes dancing and most importantly cheering.
They'll most probably be wearing black tees with yellow scarfs held high
Away Seats Whatever's left. Possibly 3 rows in some corner with a fucked up view.
For this occasion, look out for an awkward looking group dressed in either red and white (Singapore, not Indonesia) or Blue.
4. Get in the ZONE
To get in the zone, you'd need to prepare your mind and body for the experience. Here's the simplest way to shift to a football fan mindset:
I know the beer is Singaporean but the name is Malaysian but 6 of this, you'll be massive!
If you can't drink, Tiger biscuits also counts!
5. Lose Your Voice
Shout, scream, sing...tell the referee what a cunt he is, taunt the away fans. Go ahead! Don't just sit quietly, you have bloody libraries for that!
Here are a few songs and chants that might help you out tomorrow:
Against all my wishes, I went for today's meeting with the label. Although it was fruitful to a certain extent, I might have bitten off more than I can digest.
After lunch, I took the MRR2 back to my proposed location of choice, Cyberjaya. I didn't make it back, of course..
See, about 500m before the nearest petrol station, I felt the Shits* growing. So, I decided to speed up and hurry to the toilet. I made it there, of course and I only had one option, a squatting cubicle. I rolled my pants and undies and did my business well but as I reached for the hose, yes, I wash, my pants slipped from my armpit grip and fell in the toilet bowl.
I laughed then realised that I had nothing to wear but my pink-polka-dot-motif-boxers. I panicked! In my mind raced a million thoughts and the huge hole in my boxers was as useful as a one-legged man in a football match.
Please pay attention to only the boxers
If this ever happens to you, here's what you should do:
1. Damage Control
If it's just a small patch, wash and pretend nothing happened. However, if like me once upon a time ago, my undies got soiled, roll the damn thing and throw it away. Then go commando and enjoy the soft touches of the fabric on your skin.
What happens if the toilet is full of people knocking on your door asking you to hurry the fuck up? Shove the son-of-a-bitch in the toilet pump thingy and please have the decency to off the tap.
2. Do the right thing
Like what I did today, I called my boss who thankfully is my childhood friend, Mrs Violet Francis-Monterio and explained the situation:
Lett, I have something to tell you. Please don't get angry and try not to laugh
What's that?
My pants fell in the toilet bowl
(I swear she had the how-did-you-shit-that-your-pants-can-fall-into-the-bowl thought in her mind)
How can happen?
(I explained the situation)
I'll go home and change my pants then I'll come back to office
Hahahahaha..No need la..
So, I ran out of the toilet, wearing only my boxers and pants wet and rolled in my hands.
P.S. I'll explain what Shits* mean some other time
So, a few more days to Christmas and I realised I wanted better health and a long life this year..how am I ever going to get that?
Staring at boobs
It's scientifically proven that boobs will help us MEN live longer.
Here's the math:
10 minutes of Boob-watching a day = 30 minutes of Exercise WILL increase the life-span of a male by up to 3,153,600 minutes = 6 years
Think I'm lying?
I'm NOT!!
Therefore, I've coined up a Christmas tune on my own to give to good ol' Saint Nick..
All I want for Christmas
Every body pauses and stares at she
These two tits are round as you can see
I don't know just who to praise for this discovery!
But my one wish on Christmas Eve is as plain as it can be!
All I want for Christmas
is your two round tits,
your two round tits,
see your two round tits!
Gee, if I could only
have you two round tits,
then I could wish you
"Merry Christmas."
It seems so long since I could say,
"Sister Susie has a nice left nipple!"
Gosh oh gee, how happy I'd be,
if I could only suckle (thhhh, thhhh)
All I want for Christmas
is your two round tits,
your two round tits,
see your two round tits.
Gee, if I could only
have your two round tits,
then I could wish you
"Merry Christmas!"
*To be sung in the same tune of All I want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth
Seeing as how Blister will be rockin' it at Backyard this Friday (December 3, 2010) from 9.30pm til LATE
I've decided to pen type a few words to help YOU get accustomed to the ALL NEW Backyard's MOSH PIT!
Speaking on Mosh Pits, I've seen/been in a few 'Major 'Pits' me-self..
*Blast Off, KL, 2004
*MTV World Stage, KL, 2009
*Slash Live in KL, 2010
*The SHOUT! Awards, KL, 2010
The ONE thing all of these have in common is: Malaysians have no MOSH PIT ETIQUETTE!
So here's:
THE RULES OF THE MOSH PIT
The FIRST RULE of FIGHT CLUB the MOSH PIT is: You do not talk about FIGHT CLUB the MOSH PIT (Sorry, I got carried away)
#1 Dress Appropriately Observe comfortable but ROCK-ish clothing at all times.
DO NOT mosh over-aggressively with your stupid-assed-metal-clad boots and chains and spikes coming out from all the wrong places. You'll just hurt someone physically not emotionally because they see how retarded you look.
Spiked hair is still good in my book as long as it doesn't belong to a TOTAL DOUCHE!
On the other hand, if you come to a mosh pit dressed in a suit or some preppy looking kid like Fred from Scobby-Doo or anyone from the Archie series, prepare to get taunted and ridiculed so hard, droplets of shit might fall from your eyes.
Fred Jones
Dressing up like Shaggy however, is acceptable.
#2 NO fists...NO elbows! Nobody likes a DOUCHE throwing his/her elbows/fists into another person's rib,face, scrotum, etc. If you had a fist or two come your way, you'd probably deserve it from not paying attention to the Pit and texting another DOUCHE:
OMFG...dis band ttly rox! XD I wish dese morons'd stp jumpin so fucken much..so annoyin! :/
If you really can't take it anymore, just pinch 'em around the inner arm. I guarantee that they will feel the pain..even though he/she has had her eyes tattooed.
#3 NO Phones/Cameras/Cameraphones Fact: Unless the BAND asked you to record a clip, don't do it.
You are in the (mosh) pit for a reason: fully experience the energy and music thru' bouncing your bodies in a safe yet aggressive manner..
So, don't bother carrying your sweat drenched (arm)pits in the air, trying to record the WHOLE concert and at the same time getting pissed off at the few people who are trying to mosh, hence ruining your shots..because if you are the tool that's doing just that, LET LOOSE BRAH!
You already are probably stuck in a crappy DAY job..leave the stick in the office man..put it back in your ass tomorrow..LIVE a little. What are you gonna do with the clip anyways? Boast to your equally lame friends that you were there? Put up a video on Youtube?
#4 YES to deodorant Maths: You + 60 minutes waiting in line + 150 minutes in the Mosh Pit = SMELLY!
Just be kind to all of us..slap on some deodorant, splash a little perfume..C'mon, is that so hard to ask?
#5 Don't be a cheap-thrill..desperate guy.. Don't go round molesting people..it's not cool. What's even more uncool-er? You going around looking to be molested.
Sad to say, but I've seen a few blokes dressed up tranny-like, looking ugly and shit and go around rubbing themselves over other guys. HELLS NO!
My advice to these kinda PERVS: Try crowd-surfing. That way you'll be groped and grabbed all over.
Oh and crowd-surfing starts from front to back..do it the other way and I can guarantee you..YOU WILL BE DROPPED!
I know my shit!
Anyhoo..this is a CALL to all Rockers and Rollers to come down to Backyard Pub, TRUST ME..the pub has great atmosphere, reasonable prices, and us, Blister - Rockin' the whole damn night.
Well, what makes the Portuguese people think they deserve a Church? Is it jealousy that every other race in the country, which congregates in a close geographical proximity, has a place of worship? Or maybe it’s because the only full-fledged Roman Catholic saint who walked the lands of Malacca and by the way cursed it to slumber, was not really Portuguese (he was of Navarre origin, by the way)? Or is it because there is no more land in the Portuguese Settlement?
NO OFFENSE TO ANY OF MY BROTHERS AND SISTERS OF DIFFERENT FAITHS. THIS PART IS JUST TO SHOW COMPARISON AND IN NO WAY IS MEANT ANY PREJUDICE, MALICE OR DISRESPECT.
Take a look at Take a look at any Malay kampung, there’s bound to be at least a surau somewhere. Even Pulau Melaka has a mosque when the place is practically lifeless. I can’t buy bullshit even if it’s on discount but if they were to say that the Portuguese community is a small community, then what about the Chitty Melaka, they have a temple. Or is the trend of breaking temples the new in-thing and the small Gajah Berang temple is on the list?
I hope I can personally smack the cheek of the next person who comes up and say that there is no more land for a church in the Portuguese Settlement. The issue of a hotel to come up in the Settlement was very easily settled when everyone believed there was no land. I think it was probably settled like this:
“Dato’, there’s no more land herelah to build the hotel. How ah?”
“Reclaim the sealah, we’ve done it to build Melaka Raya. Do the same here!”
I can only hope that when “hotel” is replaced with “cathedral (oh, come on, you know how it works, ask for a thigh, you’ll get a toe)”, the answer will be the same!
As far as I know, Melaka has the most inter-religious understanding. Melaka boasts Temple Street, a street where a mosque, a Hindu temple and Buddhist temple sit next to each other. With that, I don’t think the spawn of a new church would cause any distress in the local community.
To rub salt to the would, the only place of worship near to a Portuguese community will eventually stick out like a sore thumb in a few years time. Praya Lane as I know it is slowly diminishing to make way for urbanization. The land has been sold to developers and one by one; memories of childhood are torn down together. With the soon non-existence of Praya Lane, the chapel will remain but it will cease to be a bastion of the Portuguese Catholics, the jenti Kristang.
Currently, the Mass in the Settlement is celebrated every week with at least 300 (Leonidis is not involved) people attending…and it’s held in a community hall. Yes, Jesus was a simple man, born in a stable and worked as a carpenter but why compromise worship and confine it to a hall which can hardly sit 200 people? The worship has to be grand but if the worshipers are simple, Hallelujah!
It is not cool letting people believe the illusion that the HALL is overflowing with people that many others have to stand outside! Wouldn’t it be easier to pray in a little bit of comfort? I’m not talking a robot choir, air conditioning, 3D glasses, just enough places for everyone to sit inside and some fans.
Speaking of halls, the chapel in Convent of the Infant Jesus, Banda Hilir has been made into a badminton hall. Wow…creative huh? I don’t think the guys over at Casa Impian could have come up with such a brilliant conversion!
Here’s a hint to THE MAN, you (plural – it’s a Rock & Roll slang) have one parliamentary term to get cracking after calls to buck up to try to redeem yourselves! Do the right thing. No, the Kristang de Padre se Chang don’t want their hall converted into a chapel. They want a religious complex with facilities ranging from classrooms to places for fellowship.
Nearly 500 years later, a small Portuguese Community still stands along the shoreline of Melaka. Although the residents don’t really look like white Bengalis anymore, but the tradition, language, food, beliefs and religion are still strongly practiced.
The Portuguese Settlement is flocked by the thousands (in total) in late June during festivals like Festa San Juang and Festa San Pedro. Around six months later, the crowd would just come out of every nook and corner to see a snow less winter wonderland. It’s just madness (in a good way) to see the lights and decorations from every house. Giant Santa Clauses and mechanical sleighs just complete the hospitality of the people at the most wonderful time of the year…at least according to Andy Williams.
Christmas in Portuguese Settlement
It is also safe to say that Christianity, or the Roman Catholic faith came along with the Portuguese in 1511. (There are claims that the Nestorian faith landed in Mongolian lands, but that’s beyond the point) The ruins of a church, The Madre de Dios (Mother of Christ*) Church on St Paul’s Hill accentuate the claim that the first Portuguese were Catholics. However, the oldest performing Catholic Church in Melaka, St Peter’s Church was erected only in 1710 on land donated by Dutchman Maryber Franz Amboer.
Interestingly, the descendants of the first Catholics in Malaysia do not have a Church to boast in their back yard. They have a Catholic school which is no longer run by the men or women in robe. Thankfully enough some Catholic elements still stand strong. There’s also a sudden emergence of a certain hotel, which most probably were influenced by Goa or some other Portuguese conquest in India. The architecture seems just about Portuguese, with canons facing the sea and a small courtyard in the middle but the cuisine somewhat questionable. However empathic I may be, I do find a Nasi Kandar based menu quite far from the likes of Dabel (Devil) Curry or the Portuguese baked fish.
Debal Curry
Imagine food-lovers who waltz in the hotel’s cafeteria and asks for the menu, wouldn’t that bring shame to the hotel or even worst, the community...macha! The nerve! Anyhoo, we shall continue the story about the hotel some other time.
Let’s just say on an idle Saturday afternoon, an Average Joe takes a two-hour drive (assuming he follows the speed limit) down south from the Klang Valley, he most probably would end up at the Ayer Keroh toll plaza. For those who don’t know, Ayer Keroh is one of three toll exits leading to the state of Melaka. It is also the nearest to the Historical City of Melaka itself.
Malacca Coat of Arms
The drive down to the city itself would tease Joe’s eyes to fascinating places to visit; the Crocodile Farm, the Melaka Zoo, arguably the next best thing after Taiping Zoo, the Butterfly Farm, a man-made waterfall, and the Spice Garden among others. A short drive later, as Joe hits the heart of the city, shopping havens like Jonker Walk, Bunga Raya Road and a few other malls would definitely give him a run for his money and around the corner, places like the Clock Tower, Istana Melaka Museum, A Famosa would just fascinate him so much, he’d be wishing he paid more attention when Puan Safiatun taught History.
Anyways, fasten your seat belt, here’s a short trip down memory lane. Around 1400, Parameswara founded Melaka. He embraced Islam and was known as Sultan Iskandar Shah. He ruled Melaka until the year 1414 when Sultan Megat Iskandar Shah reigned. The Melaka Sultanate continued it’s supremacy throughout the century for which Melaka grew as the number one port in the world. Even China sent her princess, Hang Li Po who married Sultan Mansur Shah and Admiral Cheng Ho along with fleets of diplomats and traders to Melaka. Melaka was also the first foreign government to have strong Sino-Melaka relations after Sultan Iskandar Shah paid tribute to the Ming Dynasty.
Somewhere along this era, legends were born and bred. Melaka boasted the earliest Malayan heroes through the likes of Tun Perak, Hang Tuah and his brave brotherhood, Jebat, Lekir, Lekiu and Kasturi and the exemplary administration from Sultan Muzaffar Shah to the reign of Sultan Alauddin Riayat Shah.
Melaka also faced lacking leadership which indirectly led to her fall to the Portuguese. The “White Bengalis”, as they were referred to by the Indian traders came not as conquerors of evangelists but more in search of trade. With the capture of Lopez de Sequeira, the Portuguese retaliated by conquering Melaka and capturing her on the 24th August 1511.
