Earth Hour 2009 - Our Contribution

28th March, 8.30 pm - For one hour, the world will turn off its lights and embrace Earth Hour. Every little change together, will make the biggest impact. I am pleased to see the media reaching out to the people and turning this event into something 'cool', which returns more pledges from everyone to support this good cause. My company too, has made its pledge to turn off all non-essential lighting for the hour.

Closer to home, Hubby and I have plans for a home-cooked dinner by candle light. That's our little way of showing our support.

Singapore Here I Come!

Business reasons will put me in the heart of Singapore in 2 weeks. I am excited!Of seeing old colleagues and friends. And of course, the possibility of getting new shoes...... hmmmmmm

Growing Older, But Not Yet Wiser?

I will be blardy 32 years old this year!

I am using eye cream for wrinkle control that has a 3-digit price tag, I started watching carbohydrate intake (Kill me....) for fear of weight gain due to potentially sloppy metabolism rate, I started thinking about retirement homes (London, French Riviera or Bagan Serai-Penang?) and my aging parents (God please bless them with good health). But for all the grown-up things that I am doing, I fear I still look at the world through adolescent eyes.

I wonder if my reluctance to accept the way of the world will ruin me one day. For instance, at work, I refuse to believe that things cannot be done if one does not dabble in office politics. I acknowledge its existance, as a separate business entity that I may or may not participate in. But I still believe things do work out if one is an honest, hardworking and smart employee. I think being responsible and knowing one's trade will eventually get things through. I do not like pushing blame around. It drives me nuts. I think simply owning up to mistakes and fixing it works better than trying to find a cover up. No? I only recently stood up and submitted the paper for my promotion to the next job level, simply because now I know I deserve it. It makes me uncomfortable when people tell me, I should ask for it because I should. But I couldn't do it if I know I did not deserve it. Yes I know. I am such an idiot.

I still believe good things happen to good people. And every person has a reason, for all the evil things that they do. I cannot remain annoyed with someone simply because it takes up too much effort to be angry. It is more tiring to dislike someone that to like someone. Life is short. Why waste it, hmm? If I do not like something, I must change it. If I cannot, I have to learn to live with it and manipulate it to my advantage. Complaining isn't going to help and will only make me upset. No?

Idealist, they call me. I say I am just happy being me. For as long as I can keep it up. No?

Musical Magic

My parents started me on music school at Yamaha when I was about 7 years old. My very first teacher was a young lady named Miss Q. I started with playing nursery rhymes, learning about rhythms and tones. She was a good teacher, patient and managed to get me through 3-4 levels of examinations with commendable passing scores. Through those years, music school was something I attended every week as an activity. It was fun, kind of.

Then, Miss Q went off for a short leave and a rugged scruffy looking male teacher became her substitute. He was Mr Christopher. Our disciplined class turned upside down. And that was the day that changed the way I approached music.

Mr Christopher was someone who lived for music. He would whip out our lessons book, turned to the page that we're supposed to be playing for that week and then cast it aside. He then presented sheets of paper containing the same song, but re-arranged by himself to suit our class. He would always make the 5 of us students participate in playing the same song, together. Each person had a part to play - be it the main tune, chorus, in charge of rhythm... something. Together, when we played, it was sheer joy! With him, music was playtime. The tunes hum in our ears long after we left class, and day after day after each class, I practiced dilligently. Playing music became such a passion. It was wonderful. My favorite piece from Mr Christopher was a song originally sung by Sheila Majid - Antara Anyer Dan Jakarta. Again, he re-arranged that for us - five 8-10 year olds, romancing the keys on our organs and pianos; our minds twirling in the magic of the melody we made; euphoric - kinda like puppy love perhaps :)

I went on stage for the first time playing a piece by Christopher. I enjoyed it more than anything. With him, I could play with my eyes closed. He taught us to play La Mer (French tune by Charles Trenet; in English called Beyond the Sea - as in the movie Finding Nemo), he told us to imagine the sea; try to imagine waves lapping at the shores. He taught us how to play with our hearts. Music wasn't something you just read off a score and reproduce on the white and black ivory keys. A piece of music always has its own story - of joy, of a tragic loss or first loves. When I was up there on stage with my two other classmates, all I saw was the three of us, and the beautiful tune we were producing.

Mr Christopher left soon after Miss Q returned from her leave. Music class was never the same after that. It was back to the days of perfecting notes, hitting the right timing blah blah blah. Although I had a beautiful song to play for my final exams, it just was not the same anymore. The classes soon became a chore and I finally managed to convince mom and dad to let me stop. I was thirteen. I never touched the ivory keys since.

My parents probably thought I just lost interest in music, and I should not be forced. But in reality, I loved it. It was indeed the very first thing I found passion in, and my teacher Mr Christopher showed me just how wonderful it could be. Alas, I soon lost that passion when I had to look at it so technically, so very work-like. I always wonder, what if Mr. Christopher had never left? What if I had continued to play under his guidance? Wishful thinking.... but I could've been good?

Whatever it is, despite what others may think of me for stopping music school, I never regretted having had had the chance to learn and play. For now when I listen to a song, it isn't just a song. I can appreciate rhythm, its tune and imagine its story. A song becomes so much more beautiful then.

This post is written in appreciation of Mr Christopher Chan, music teacher at Yamaha Music School Alor Setar, 1980s.