Burglaries are happening right left and center in the area where I lived in, and all of them are targeting student rental houses. Just not long ago, I heard that the house next door got broken into. Since they always keep the door wide open, I guess its only a matter of time.

My house mate told me that she saw some suspicious man cruising around and checking out our house when she was out doing laundry in the afternoon, and the makcik neighbour told her about the recent break in in the taman (housing area). Creeps me out really, to know that we are potential targets.

Which reminds me that, around ten years back, when we just moved into our then new house, the whole area was not so densely populated and our house, which is located at the far corner near the oil palm plantation, was burglarized not once, but at least twice by the same burglar (singular, yes, he was caught later) and he was also the culprit for the break ins of a few houses in the same taman as well.

The notorious burglar that leaves black footprints on the walls and ceilings were the talk of the taman back then, and everyone scrambled to get grills for their ceilings, my house included. Before the ceiling grill (or whatever you call that) is complete, my house was broken in again, and in addition to the loss of cash, that burglar took a watch as well, which unfortunately, belongs to my aunt who was staying in my house as guest at the time.

Because of all the break ins I’ve been spending a lot of time in the police station, keeping my mother company while the officers record her statements. I just keep thinking about how weird it is to be at the police station in the middle of the night while the house is turned upside down by the burglar in the pursuit of something valuable (there is no computer at home and the TV is puny), and how hard it was to earn all the money that has been stolen.

I was around say, 12 or 13 years old, and read too much Nancy Drew to be realize the potential danger of the crime. I just kept thinking hard about how did he manage to get in and why did he targeted our house, and of course, who is he and will we be able to get back what that has been robbed off from us.

Questions such as “What if the burglars were still in the house when we reach home?”, “What if they worked in groups?” and “What will happened if they were armed and with the intention to hurt?” never really crossed my mind, actually.

It amazes me that the older I get, the more chicken I’ve got. Or rather, in ten years, the burglars are way bolder and more ferocious as it used to be, and it is indeed a valid reason to be afraid of.

Needless to say, what that has been stolen away could never be retrieved, and the only consolation is that the thief is finally caught. We’ve got ceiling grills now, and we’ve even got ourselves a dog, which helps to scare of some potential intruders with some harmless yappings.

All I have to do now is to lock our doors safely and keep the porch light opens, and hope for the best. We’ve been careful, and we’ll always be careful, me and all my house mates that is.

Its going to be fine.

Chung Chen Public Free Night School, 1992-1997.

This is a continuation of my night school remembrance, Part I, Part II and Part III.

Whoa, it actually took me so long to pick up and continue this story, ekekeke.

Academics aside, I do really met a lot of people of different age gaps and both genders here, since this is a co-ed and I was studying in an all-girl school in the day. It was fun, knowing people and all that. I could still recall the girl who used to sat beside me, YY. She was a year older, and her parents run a catering business. And then there was another girl, by the initials of QQ, which is both funnily tomboyish but yet had a crush on the new transfer student. And then there was BL, and WM, whom we used to accompany each other to the toilet and telling ghost stories hoping to scare each other silly.

Some classmates were also my day school schoolmates, and I actually knew Vian better via night school, since we were in different classes in day school. Same could be said to PS and YW, the latter whom shared the same birthdate with me, albeit she is older by a year.

And then there were also the bunch of guys, YJ, BC, KS and a few more, who used talk nonsense and always try to compete with the girls academically. Odd enough, they were more interested in how much you score for Geography above anything else, except maybe swapping rumours. Lol!

Apparently, most of us in the class somewhat how stuck through til the end of the six years, and we all graduated from that night class, our year being the year with the most graduates. We sung the graduation sung on stage proudly, because it wasn’t that easy to stick through the six years.

Those were the days. I wonder where are all my ex-classmates right now. It is odd enough to think back that, when we were all slogging through night school, all we wanted was for it to end as soon as possible. Now to think back, it was actually a fun and gratifying process, and through it we learned a lot.

Chung Chen Public Free Night School, 1992-1997.

This is a continuation of my night school remembrance, Part I and Part II.

There was a year when I finished all the final exams in both day and night school and started my year end holiday early to help around at home because empress had just been discharged after a surgery, and lo and behold! The teachers in the night school were searching for me for prize giving ceremony rehearsal, because, surprise! I was top in class that year! I couldn’t even recall if I did well in the papers because all I wanted was for the exams to end, and it was really funny that the No.2 was fuming because she her total marks was just a mark or two lower than mine and she studied harder.

Needless to say, I attended the last two days of classes in that year just to find out what the fuss was about. And I got a book voucher which I then spent it on some dictionary to help my Chinese essay writing, which I now recalled that I have never really completed an essay save for one, which talks about some picnic on the beach.

We also learned to write calligraphy, the big one (da kai) and the small one (xiao kai). I have no idea what it was called in English, but we used brush dipped in black in to write Chinese characters on papers with small squares. I could still remember my first brush stroke writing the da kai, where everything came out looking like a thick moustache than a Chinese character. After a few more tries I could write better, but it still looked weird.I fared better writing xiao kai, as I cheated using no-dip brush, which basically is a pen-like brush with continuous flow of black ink that does not require dipping into the inkpot after writing every character. My xiao kai turned out well, and in fact, one of my scripts got posted up in the school notice board. I was so happy.

To be continued later, again…?