Sharing the Adventure

Singing is a natural hobby in my life just as playing tennis and squash are too. In the early days before I took up squash, which came rather late in my life but remains one which I still play today, thanks to my regular partner in Tunku Besar Mukhriz and before him my very close friend Dr. Then Suke Min, who migrated to Sydney in 1980, I was all out for tennis then. I traveled the lengths and breath of the country to compete in the game and almost all my working holidays went to tennis those days. I was a member of the Malaysian Malays Tennis committee of those days in the sixty’s and seventy’s and even became the Official Tennis Referee of the 1976 South East Asia Games in Kuala Lumpur. I had good time , met and made many friends then, but my one weakness which remains till today, is, I cannot remember people’s names. I can only recognize people and perhaps place where I met them but I cannot remember their names ! Till today, I even find it hard to remember the names of all my nieces and nephews , not to mention all the grand nieces and grand nephews. I really marvel at how most people are adapt at remembering names and places of visits.

Yes, both Ainul and I have been a far with our travels years past and to our dismay we could recall very little of where we had been. We had covered quite a vast areas of the United States, as John Jennrich used to remarks, we had seen more of the States than he had ever done himself as an American ! That complementary remarks falls short of what our memory holds of those beautiful cities and countrysides of the countries that we have travelled, not to mention some traumatic moments we experienced and went through too.

For instance, when we were in Moscow and we were taken to see and visit the warriors memorial, I got so excited to see the uniformed Russian sentries guarding the place and the extend of the Memorial itself that I decided to move out of the site-seeing crowd to grab close-up photos of these sentries and certain figurines, using my cine-camera, I suddenly heard someone shouted in Russian, excitedly I thought then. I was then nonchalantly moving forward towards objects of my camera subjects when I heard Ainul shouted to me to stop moving. I turned around to find a Russian uniformed personnel pointing his finger at me and talking in Russian. From his gesticulation it became clear to me that he wanted me to leave the place forthwith and was heading fast towards me to try to grab-hold of my camera. Realizing the crisis I was in, I quickly stepped out of the way and rejoined the crowd, but the Russian man had reached for my camera and wanted to take it away whilst talking in Russian to me. I quickly reacted in return by speaking to him in English and telling him that I meant no harm to the place but merely to take photos to show to my families back home. For a moment I thought he was not about to give in to my pleadings with his hands already on my cine-camera, but thank goodness, he let go and I quickly moved away from him to rejoined Ainul and the children.

On another trip and it was to Europe and London, I had with me a few receipts of purchased goods which had been taxed but the same tax could be refunded if these receipts were posted back to the English Customs Department. Somehow on leaving Heathrow Airport I forgot to do it and thought on doing it at the next stopover which was in ( I cannot remember where, and nor could Ainul .........? ) But it was somewhere in Europe where they don’t speak English ! Anyway, on this particular incidence, our plane made a short stop over whereby we were permitted to wait at the airport’s concourse. I decided then to find a post box to post back my tax refund vouchers. I could not find any post box around the place and upon inquiry I was told to get out to the check in-in area where the post box was located. This I did by simply showing my boarding transit pass. What happened next was a nightmare. After locating the post box and doing the needful, when I wanted to get back to the terminal’s concourse, I was told to go to another entrance. This I did, only to find a massive line of passengers all waiting for their turn to come in through a solitary entry gate ! I realized that if I were to follow the long queue, I would never make it for the flight which was by then less than 15 minutes before take-off. As I made my way to the top of the que without queuing up, I eventually reached the entry gate only to be told by the gate official that I must observe the que procedure. It was all in their spoken language but I could make out what was wanted. I decided to ignore him and instead talked in English, emphasizing my urgent need to board my plane. He refused to understand and to budge. Seeing it was a hopeless situation, I made one last move and that to simply bulldoze my way through him and after that ran for my life towards the concourse area. Strangely enough and fortunately for that, nobody went after me. I was the last to board the plane and when I reached my seat, I could see how worried Ainul was and as expected, subjected me to the usual scolding ! That was a lesson I shall never ever forget !

Another incidence was an earthquake experience in Los Angeles. The week previous to the incidence, we just had great fun experiencing and enjoying the Caribbean Cruise on the Crown Princess Cruise ship - compliments of Sunrider- on an eight day fun holiday. The week before the cruise, Izzat and Shazrina and another girl who was on her way for the first time to study in the States, had had fun with us at Disneyland, Sea World, and Universal Studios. We had left them for a further one week before they made their way home - Izzat and Shazrina, that is. Thus it was, on the night when we got back from the cruise and heading towards our Howard Inn in LA., we sensed something amiss. It was more so at the hotel itself when we were given a room very far away from the lobby and at a rather dark area. We decided to change room to one at and above the main lobby itself. We were lucky we got that one and decided to settle down for the night. Somehow, Ainul happened to get hold of a special desk note in our room which stated in the event of an earthquake, we must get hold of as many pillows as possible and to remain intact on our beds until the earthquake is over. Ainul said then that this was a funny kind of notice, but her instincts told her to get hold of all available pillows in our room, which pillows happened to be in excess of the norm at hotel rooms. It was an exactly 4.13 am when both of us was awaken by a massive shakes and we were lifted upwards from our bed ! We thought or at least that was what came to my mind, that we were having a nightmare of the earthquake that we enjoyed at the Universal Studios. Only when the room continued to shake vigorously for a few more seconds later did we come to our senses that we might be experiencing the real earthquake ! Ironically none of the walled pictures fell and none of the furniture broke or the TV too. We then realized why all the walled pictures were well-nailed to the walls whilst the TV too was firmly fixed to its desk top. We switched on the TV and true enough , there was the news of an 6.8 rector scale earthquake somewhere in San Diego. The location of the quake was some fifty miles away from where we were ! Only one death was reported and that was a patrol police rider whose bike came down the broken ram on the San Diego- LA highway -. The very same highway, we had daily drove through when we had previously been using when we made our way to and fro - Sand Pebbles , San Diego to LA. How lucky we were !

On looking back, we remember the very strange feeling we both felt upon reaching our hotel then. It was an unusually quiet night and very foggy, to the extend of difficulty to find our way along the hotel’s corridor when we made our way to change room to the one at the lobby. Somehow, there was a foreboding feeling that something would happen that night. That was why, Ainul insisted that we change room. She imagined all sorts of horrors based on films we have seen, and as usual I kept scolding her for her unfounded misgivings. However, she stood firm on wanting to change room and when I finally conceded, we felt at ease. The next morning when we went for our breakfast at the hotel’s outlet, we were surprised to find no sign of panic or concerned from anyone we met. When we mentioned the earthquake we experienced, the only remarks made were it was nothing much to be worried about as it was no big disaster, although we found out later on, a big part of the main highway San Diego-LA was broken and several houses and cars caught fire. Earthquakes seem to be taken for granted in LA, because almost everyday slight tremors are felt in buildings and more so in the lifts. Well, for both of us, that WAS an experience of a life time !

What of being caught in a fire ? We had that too, and that was in London. The event coincided with Farahat and Mazuin’s honeymoon, when previous to our arrival to London, all the four of us including Jalnah had travelled and stayed together in Wales at a hill resort ( the name of which I cannot recall right now ) overlooking a bay. To cut a long story short, the incident took place when we returned to London after our self-driven tour of Wales and Scotland. It felt great to be back to Sales Place’s Satay House , a family run Malay cuisine restaurant made famous by Jaafar Shawal and Zaharah Hashim, the latter was Ainul’s cousin. The couple made London their permanent home after their success in business of every kind, starting with charted flights for Malaysian Muslims to Mecca in the early days when Tabung Haji was in its infant stage and MAS was still with Singapore Airlines twin sharing business. Jaafar was the pioneer of charted flights and did very well in the trade until MAS was fully set up and the government disallowed charted flights venture by private companies. By then of course Jaafar and Zaharah’s business became established in London and its network to home base Malaysia. This is one couple who have always been very low profiled in their success. It is the right way to do business, and it suits the time era of the early sixties.

Anyway, there we were at the Satay House’s third floor apartment taking our much needed rest after the fortnight of hectic driving to virtually all of England, Wales and Scotland. On the particular night, Zaharah cooked for us a delicious nasi minyak and beef korma and other appetizers and hence the feast was a boost for our much needed sleep for the night. It was around four in the morning when I was awakened by Ainul to ask me to wake up and immediately leave our room. She said "Fire !" Somehow, I thought I was dreaming, just as we both did when we experienced the LA earthquake. Thus I took my time to get up and dressed up. I had my shirt, trousers and jacket on. Indeed I was well-dressed, an unseemly act for such an occasion when the apartment was on fire ! Just before I left the room, I took my time to visit the bathroom to wash my face and even took time to have a good pee ! Meanwhile, I distinctly heard Ainul shouting, " What are you doing ? Hurry up Farid ! We are on fire ! " It was only when I came out of the bathroom, I was shocked and indeed fully awakened by the smell of pungent smoke and total non-invisibility. . Ainul was at hand to pull me back into the room and shut tight the door with wet towels firmly placed at the entrance door’s gap at the bottom. Part of our room was filled with smoke . Remembering what they did in the movies, I quickly opened the windows so as to let in fresh air to breathe in. At the same time my mind start to race to the idea of escape to safety. I looked out downwards from the windows and thought of jumping down to the planted tree hedges below and fully imagined that our fall would be broken by the shrubs down below, when on looking in again I saw that the hedges of plants down below ran parallel to the wooden fence which was sharply jagged ! There went my plan to jump ! I began to shout to a passerby on the street below and this particular English person had the cheek to shout back at me, "ou stay put, the firemen are on their way !"

It was at this moment of despair and panic that Farahat suddenly burst into our room and took us by the hands to run down the flights of stairs which were full of smoke but nonetheless still intact for us three to walk all the way down to safety. It was great to smell and feel the fresh air again when we came out of the building, when just a moment before I for one did imagine that I would be burned to death ! There on the street we saw all the others in their pajamas and night gowns and none to match me well dressed and carrying my carryon suitcase ! The fire brigade did come a few minutes later, in time to douse the fire which started in the restaurant’s kitchen. The cause of the fire we later were told by the firemen was a careless throw of a cigarette butt into the dust bin which must have contained some waste papers.

Now that just brings me back to the subject of smoking and smokers.