Immortal Master
Wan Kean Chew – martial arts exponent extraordinary
By Kim Gooi
In August 1973, one of the biggest martial arts tournament in the region was held in Kuching, Sarawak to celebrate the state's 10 year independence from Britain [Sarawak broke off the colonial yoke by joining the federation of Malaysia in 1963].
It was to be an open contest, full contact, any styles, only boxing gloves were worn.
Taiji Master Wan Kean Chew, 34, represented Singapore. "I was known in Singapore for my Taiji, so they asked me to fight for them since Penang did not send a team," recalled Master Wan 30 years later. Other teams came from all over the region including Taiwan and Hong Kong.
In the seventies Karate, Bruce Lee, Gongfu, breaking bricks and boards with power kicks and punches were the rage. The time also saw Karate and Gongfu exponents taking on Thai kick-boxers albeit with disastrous results.
Taijiquan! - soft and pliable - to challenge the might of Karate and Gongfu was almost unheard off. Thus when master Wan knocked out the top Karate exponent from Hong Kong in the final heavy weight division and won the championship, it caused an unbelievable shock-wave.
The upset was the more sensational as the reputation and prowess of the Hong Kong Karate 'star' was hyped to formidable heights prior and during the tournament.
"There were three brothers (taking part in 3 divisions), all famous martial arts exponents from Hong Kong," added Wan. "Their grandfather was the chief martial arts instructor of the imperial army of China." And they had also won many tournaments. Such were the reputation and awe they sowed.
"The opponent I knocked out in the final even challenged Mohammad Ali during those days," said Wan. When he entered the arena, punching and kicking, his muscles rippling through his sleeveless upper torso, it was an intimidating sight sending fears through the opponents, Wan said. So much so that 'Mr Hong Kong' received a walkover each time he entered the ring, right up to the semi-final round.
But master Wan knew better. "When two great forces oppose each other, the victory will go to the one that knows how to yield." - Dao De Jing
"The gentlest thing in the world overcomes the hardest thing in the world. That which has no substance enters where there is no space."
Within seconds it was all over. He didn't know what hit him. It was an explosion of intrinsic force that penetrated his inner space and injured his internal organs. He threw in the towel.
Master Wan explained: "Relaxed, rooted, and rounded; calmed, still and 'listening' I waited. The moment he made a move, I was there."
"He came with a power-packed side-kick at my head, instantaneously I moved in, deflected, punched with my waist swinging and sinking, all at one time in unison - ' quan shen yi dong' (whole body moving as one)."
"This is what we mean by intrinsic energy, the whole body moving with the mind as well, it not only penetrates where there is no space, but the mind can move mountains" explained Master Wan.
Having moved mountains, Master Wan had to make a hasty retreat. He left immediately for the airport and flew back to Penang, leaving the Singapore officials to collect the championship trophy.
The sensational win had upset the rough and tumble world of the martial arts tournament. Millions of dollars in bets were at stake with odds in the opponent's favour. Prior to the final Master Wan had received threats from shadowy figures as well as officials. "That's why I didn't bother to stay back to receive the championship trophy, the threats to my life was real and serious," Master Wan reminisces with a chuckle, three decades later.
Before his hasty flight Master Wan also won the taiji push hand and nei-gong (where contestants had to withstand blows through breath and body control) championships.
ends
expert author
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Cure For Stomach Ulcer
A Cure For Stomach Ulcers
By Kim Gooi
As he narrated, Sunny Ewe had suffered tremendous pain and hardship from stomach ulcers for more than 10 years. "When the attack comes in the middle of the night it is sheer terror! I cannot sit, I cannot stand and I cannot sleep," Ewe recalled.
"I have to rush down to the company clinic to get an injection to ease the pain and control the palsy and fits." Then he could sleep but two weeks later the attack would recur without fail, usually around 1 am, he said.
This went on for a long time. Ewe worked for Shell in Miri, Sarawak, East Malaysia. The company spared no efforts and expenses in giving him the best treatment in the world. He was treated twice in London and even requested for an operation, but the specialists refused saying he was too young (at that time he was 20 plus). He was put on 'tagamet' medication which was so successful in treating stomach ulcers, with a success rate of 85 percent, that it won the Queen's Award. Unfortunately he fell into the other 15 percent, Ewe lamented.
The treatment continued in Singapore for over a decade, hundreds of thousands of dollars spent. Ewe was admitted to all the top hospitals more than a dozen times: had undergone Barium-meal checkup, enema checkup, X-ray, you named it; all to no avail. All failed to diagnose and pinpoint the problem. Eventually they conducted a 100 percent checkup and pronounced they had found gallstones. He was sent to Mt Elizabeth hospital for verification. But the hospital could not confirm the gallstones.
Finally Shell Company doctor recommended laparotomy - cutting out the stomach wall and dishing out all the organs and physically check all of them one by one. A most frightening nightmare, recalled Ewe.
"Luckily the doctor in Singapore is a physician and not a surgeon, so for that remaining five percent uncertainty, he wouldn't operate on me," Ewe said with a sigh of relief.
At that moment in 1982, in what Ewe described as divine destiny, he was introduced to a Chinese cook in Miri by a Malaysian police officer. The cook told him he could cure him by teaching him a series of deep breathing exercises. He had to see him every morning at dawn to learn and practice.
Like a drowning man grasping at a lifeline, Ewe diligently went to see the master before dawn for 6 continuous mornings. Each morning he was taught one new exercise. "After 6 mornings, I was asked to do these 6 deep breathing exercises on my own each morning and before going to bed for about 30 minutes," recalled Ewe.
"It was incredible," said Ewe. "After two weeks for the first time in 10 years, there were no attack."
End of a storm cloud, a silver lining! Greatly encouraged, Ewe religiously did the exercises twice a day without fail. After three months, the master invited him to his house for dinner. There were sweet and sour fish, hot curries, sambal (hot chilli) dishes; every one hot and spicy. The sight of them would strike terror to anyone with stomach ulcer.
The master had specially cooked all the dishes that were taboo to Ewe. "He invited me to partake and enjoy the food, but I hesitated. He said go on, I just wanted to show that you are completely cured that's the reason for inviting you." Ewe recalled vividly.
"I did as I was told. By now I had full confidence in the master. It was the best dinner I ever had and the happiest moment in my life knowing that I am completely cured."
Today, 27 years later Sunny Ewe, 58, has retired with a handsome bonus from Shell and enjoying life. As sure as the sunrise, he is up every morning doing his deep breathing exercises religiously without fail. He hopes to live to a hundred, he said in zest.
ends
By Kim Gooi
As he narrated, Sunny Ewe had suffered tremendous pain and hardship from stomach ulcers for more than 10 years. "When the attack comes in the middle of the night it is sheer terror! I cannot sit, I cannot stand and I cannot sleep," Ewe recalled.
"I have to rush down to the company clinic to get an injection to ease the pain and control the palsy and fits." Then he could sleep but two weeks later the attack would recur without fail, usually around 1 am, he said.
This went on for a long time. Ewe worked for Shell in Miri, Sarawak, East Malaysia. The company spared no efforts and expenses in giving him the best treatment in the world. He was treated twice in London and even requested for an operation, but the specialists refused saying he was too young (at that time he was 20 plus). He was put on 'tagamet' medication which was so successful in treating stomach ulcers, with a success rate of 85 percent, that it won the Queen's Award. Unfortunately he fell into the other 15 percent, Ewe lamented.
The treatment continued in Singapore for over a decade, hundreds of thousands of dollars spent. Ewe was admitted to all the top hospitals more than a dozen times: had undergone Barium-meal checkup, enema checkup, X-ray, you named it; all to no avail. All failed to diagnose and pinpoint the problem. Eventually they conducted a 100 percent checkup and pronounced they had found gallstones. He was sent to Mt Elizabeth hospital for verification. But the hospital could not confirm the gallstones.
Finally Shell Company doctor recommended laparotomy - cutting out the stomach wall and dishing out all the organs and physically check all of them one by one. A most frightening nightmare, recalled Ewe.
"Luckily the doctor in Singapore is a physician and not a surgeon, so for that remaining five percent uncertainty, he wouldn't operate on me," Ewe said with a sigh of relief.
At that moment in 1982, in what Ewe described as divine destiny, he was introduced to a Chinese cook in Miri by a Malaysian police officer. The cook told him he could cure him by teaching him a series of deep breathing exercises. He had to see him every morning at dawn to learn and practice.
Like a drowning man grasping at a lifeline, Ewe diligently went to see the master before dawn for 6 continuous mornings. Each morning he was taught one new exercise. "After 6 mornings, I was asked to do these 6 deep breathing exercises on my own each morning and before going to bed for about 30 minutes," recalled Ewe.
"It was incredible," said Ewe. "After two weeks for the first time in 10 years, there were no attack."
End of a storm cloud, a silver lining! Greatly encouraged, Ewe religiously did the exercises twice a day without fail. After three months, the master invited him to his house for dinner. There were sweet and sour fish, hot curries, sambal (hot chilli) dishes; every one hot and spicy. The sight of them would strike terror to anyone with stomach ulcer.
The master had specially cooked all the dishes that were taboo to Ewe. "He invited me to partake and enjoy the food, but I hesitated. He said go on, I just wanted to show that you are completely cured that's the reason for inviting you." Ewe recalled vividly.
"I did as I was told. By now I had full confidence in the master. It was the best dinner I ever had and the happiest moment in my life knowing that I am completely cured."
Today, 27 years later Sunny Ewe, 58, has retired with a handsome bonus from Shell and enjoying life. As sure as the sunrise, he is up every morning doing his deep breathing exercises religiously without fail. He hopes to live to a hundred, he said in zest.
ends
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Saturday, May 30, 2009
The Tunku Revisited
The Tunku Revisited
By Kim Gooi, photojournalist cum blogger
Many would vote Tunku Abdul Rahman as Malaysia's most beloved prime minister because of his endearing ways. His wit, sharpness of mind, empathy and compassion for the common people were legendary.
But many of his admirers may not be aware of his colourful early career and his enduring connection with Thailand's Muslim minority.
Much has been written about his political development and achievements. Robert MacNamara, then-president of the World Bank, said in his opening address at the first Tun Abdul Razak Memorial lecture that he was envious of the Malaysians in the audience who had walked with the founding father of the nation, whereas he had to get to know the Tunku through the history books.
I was 10 years old in 1957 when the Tunku proclaimed independence from Britain and became the country's first prime minister. I had the good fortune of meeting him several times in his later years. Watching him in action, listening to his wise words, I became one of his many admiring fans.
I first came face-to-face with the Tunku at his residence in Ayer Raja Road, Penang, in May 1978. He had long retired and had chosen Penang as his retirement home.
Why had he chosen Penang and not Kuala Lumpur? The people of Penang were honoured and happy that such a great man had chosen the island as his home. It was evident that he loved the island just as the islanders loved him.
Waiting for the Tunku
It was about 10 in the morning. We were all waiting for the Tunku in the reception room cum office, staked with expensive souvenirs, trophies, walking sticks and memorabilia.
In a corner his Chinese secretary was pounding on a typewriter. Samad the driver and Owen Chung his ADC stood around chatting. I was seated beside a humble Malay lad of about 18. Facing us were three distinguished-looking men - two Chinese and an Indian Muslim. Obviously some rich tycoons, I thought.
As the Tunku came down the winding staircase, before I could stand up, the three big-shots went forward and greeted the old man with gusto. "Tunku Tunku! I just bought a 300-dollar shirt from Hong Kong for you. Can you play golf this Thursday? We've book the golf course," one of the Chinese said loudly.
Tunku, with hardly a glance, waved him aside. The second Chinese man cheerfully came forward and said, "Tunku, we've formed a Bumiputra company - 51 percent Malay and 49 percent Chinese. Can you sign for us? We got a piece of land in Balik Pulau, we want to develop into a holiday resort."
Tunku retorted, "Where did the Malays get the money to form the company to do big business?"
The tycoon confessed, "Actually we put up the money for them."
"I know the Malays have no money. You Chinese have the money but still I just can't simply sign the application for you. You have to tell me who are these people, what is their background?" Tunku admonished.
"OK, OK! I'll do that Tunku," the guy said and quietly sat down.
Then the Indian Muslim man happily announced that he had convinced a friend in Sungei Pattani to accept Islam.
Tunku nodded happily and asked him to sit down. He then came straight to the Malay lad and me and warmly shook our hands and attended to us, enquiring whether we had our coffee and how he could help us.
We said yes and thanked him for the coffee. The Malay boy and I felt 10 feet tall the way Tunku treated us in front of the three rich and powerful guests.
The Malay boy said he had left school after form three and could not find a job and his family were poor. Tunku told him if he was not fussy about manual work, he would get him a job with the JKR (Public Works Department) tending trees and parks, and promptly dictated a letter to the secretary.
Turning to me, he said, "You have a problem with your passport after deportation from Burma. Just yesterday the immigration director from KL was here to visit me. What a coincidence! He told me if I need any help don't hesitate to tell him. I will give you a letter. You go to KL immigration and see him. You will get your passport back in no time."
Two weeks earlier I had my first encounter with the Tunku and had spent several hours talking about the Burmese Rohinga refugees, while he tape-recorded it with a mini-tape recorder (very rare to see in 1978).
I was deported from Burma after a year in that country's notorious jails. My crime was entering th country without a visa as a journalist. I was asked by the Muslim leader in the jail to see the Tunku when I got out and tell him all about their problems and persecution under the Burmese. [See story in Islamic Herald]
I wrote to Perkim, the Islamic Welfare Association founded by Tunku, and told them my situation and asked to see the Tunku as requested by the Muslim leader who was in jail with me. The reply was prompt and to my surprise they requested permission to print my letter in the Islamic Herald. It was the beginning of my very fortunate and happy friendship with the Tunku.
My passport had been taken away by the government and I was told that I was under investigation because of the jail sentence. The passport could only be returned after I was cleared.
When? It could be years or never, I was told. I had two jobs waiting for me in Bangkok - with the Businese Times newspaper and as a reporter for the US news agency UPI at the 1978 Asian Games.
But without a passport I was unemployable. Tunku was my savior. Without him, my career and future would have been greatly jeopardised.
After these episodes I had many more encounters with the Tunku, each of them memorable, educational and an insight to his wisdom and humanity.
His birthday open houses were warm and touching affairs, with a generous spread of Malay food and other goodies. The Chinese families, around 60 per cent of those present, would surround him together with their little children, calling out: "Say happy birthday to Tunku!"
He loved children and the children swarmed around him naturally, taking to the kind old man like ducklings to water.
His visit to Bangkok in 1985 was another unforgetable event. By then my work had been going well and many of my articles were published in local and international media.
Tunku and his Perkim entourage came in Sarawak chief minister Taib Mahmud's private jet. Taib was deputy president and Tunku's right-hand man in Perkim. But there was no mention of the visit in the local press.
Tunku was very disappointed with Perkim's press secretary (an Australian convert to Islam working for Perkim), said Tarmizi Hashim, the press attache of the Malaysian embassy. Tarmizi rounded up the media. The next day the whole Bangkok press corp turned up to hear a beaming Tunku talk about Perkim's important humanitarian work among Bangkok Muslims.
Tunku was a hit with the Thai reporters because he grew up in the Thai court of King Rama 6. To them, Tunku qualified as Thai royalty and the government honoured him with two police out-rider escorts whenever he comes to the kingdom.
He and his elder brother were "hostages" in the court as Kedah was still a vessal state of Siam at the turn of the century. He came back to Kedah in his early teens and studied at the Penang Free School. His elder brother stayed in Thailand and became a Major General in the Royal Thai Army.
"My brother died and was buried in a Bangkok Muslim cemetery," the Tunku said. "When I became PM in 1957, the first thing I did was an official visit to Bangkok."
"After being conferred the highest decoration, I went to the Muslim cemetery and exhumed my brother's remains and brought them back to Kedah for reburial in my family's cemetry. I am the only Muslim in the world who has done that," Tunku said with a chuckle.
A Thai reporter asked Tunku whether he could still speak Thai. Tunku said that in Kedah, Thai spoken is differently from that spoken in Bangkok. Like "Tham Pleu, Tham Plue" means "What to do, what to do!.
The next day it was front-page in all the dailies: "Tunku speaks fluent Thai," together with the comment that Tunku also pointed out Malaysian journalist Kim Gooi who was jailed in Burma whom he knows.
The Tunku pointed out that the residents of the big Muslim community of Nongchok on Bangkok's outskirts were descendents of Kedah slaves captured and brought to Bangkok to build the canals in the last century. That's why all the mosques and many Muslim community are along the canals.
These were his people captured as slaves and brought from Kedah to dig the canals. Tunku never forgets them, they were close to his heart. Thank God, they survived and living well as the land where many settled as become valuable now, he commented.
Tunku also remembered he complained to the Thai government during the official visit that there was no central mosque in Bangkok despite the substantial number of Muslims. The result was the big mosque we see today at Hua Mak district of Bangkok, he said proudly.
In December 1985 Malaysian press attache Tamizi arranged a meeting for me to meet opium king Khun Sa at his stronghold on the Thai-Burmese border.(5-part-story printed in NST Jan 27-Jan 31,1986). The guide and escort was a Chinese Muslim ex-general of the Kuomintang Army, Ma Sian.
Ma was an admirer of the Tunku and I suggested to him to present the Shan army commanders' walking stick to Tunku. It is a beautiful rattan cane as thick as a toe with a curve handle. All the commanders carry one into battle and Khun Sa carried one whenever he inspected his troops.
The cane was duly delivered to the embassy. After a few months Tamizi told me that the embassy could not send it to Tunku because it is not proper coming from Khun Sa, the opium warlord of the Golden Triangle. You have to take it a deliver it to him yourself, they told me.
I presented the cane to him in 1987 and said it was from the Shan people. By coincidence I was told by Colonel Khern Sai of the Shan State Army that the Tunku's mother was actually a Shan princess. This was not too surprising, considering that the Shan and Thai are branches of the same family of people.
As usual we had coffee and a long chat. When I told him I had been to the Philippines to cover the Aquino assassination, he told me of the arrogance and offences committed by then-president Ferdinand Marcos against our Agong a few years ago.
Our Agong, after retirement went for a round-the-world cruise. During a stopover in Manila, our ambassador arranged for a visit to Malacanyang Palace. When the Agong's limosine arrived at the palace gate, Marcos ordered the car to stop and the Agong had to walk up the driveway to the palace. Our ambassador was aghast and protested. Finally Marcos relented and a great insult to Malaysia was averted.
"Even then Marcos showed his arrogance," said Tunku. "Instead of coming to the door to greet our Agong. He stood behind the desk and made the Agong walked up to greet him.
"This was too much," Tunku said indignantly.
In 1986, Marcos had to flee the Philippines and died in exile in Hawaii three years later.
For a journalist, talking to the Tunku was a goldmine of information. I was privy to many exclusive bits of information.
On one occasion the Tunku asked me how I had come to his house and how I planned to return to Tanjung Bungah. I told him I took a taxi and intended to walk to Pulau Tikus and take a bus back.
He said he could give me a lift to Pulau Tikus since he he went there most afternoons, to his favourite market to shop around.
In the car, his bodyguard Owen Chung was in the front beside Samad. I sat proudly in the back sitting beside the Tunku as the limousine eased out of the driveway and cruised along the tree-lined Ayer Raja Road, to Cantonment Road towards Pulau Tikus. That was the most memorable ride ever in my life.
By Kim Gooi, photojournalist cum blogger
Many would vote Tunku Abdul Rahman as Malaysia's most beloved prime minister because of his endearing ways. His wit, sharpness of mind, empathy and compassion for the common people were legendary.
But many of his admirers may not be aware of his colourful early career and his enduring connection with Thailand's Muslim minority.
Much has been written about his political development and achievements. Robert MacNamara, then-president of the World Bank, said in his opening address at the first Tun Abdul Razak Memorial lecture that he was envious of the Malaysians in the audience who had walked with the founding father of the nation, whereas he had to get to know the Tunku through the history books.
I was 10 years old in 1957 when the Tunku proclaimed independence from Britain and became the country's first prime minister. I had the good fortune of meeting him several times in his later years. Watching him in action, listening to his wise words, I became one of his many admiring fans.
I first came face-to-face with the Tunku at his residence in Ayer Raja Road, Penang, in May 1978. He had long retired and had chosen Penang as his retirement home.
Why had he chosen Penang and not Kuala Lumpur? The people of Penang were honoured and happy that such a great man had chosen the island as his home. It was evident that he loved the island just as the islanders loved him.
Waiting for the Tunku
It was about 10 in the morning. We were all waiting for the Tunku in the reception room cum office, staked with expensive souvenirs, trophies, walking sticks and memorabilia.
In a corner his Chinese secretary was pounding on a typewriter. Samad the driver and Owen Chung his ADC stood around chatting. I was seated beside a humble Malay lad of about 18. Facing us were three distinguished-looking men - two Chinese and an Indian Muslim. Obviously some rich tycoons, I thought.
As the Tunku came down the winding staircase, before I could stand up, the three big-shots went forward and greeted the old man with gusto. "Tunku Tunku! I just bought a 300-dollar shirt from Hong Kong for you. Can you play golf this Thursday? We've book the golf course," one of the Chinese said loudly.
Tunku, with hardly a glance, waved him aside. The second Chinese man cheerfully came forward and said, "Tunku, we've formed a Bumiputra company - 51 percent Malay and 49 percent Chinese. Can you sign for us? We got a piece of land in Balik Pulau, we want to develop into a holiday resort."
Tunku retorted, "Where did the Malays get the money to form the company to do big business?"
The tycoon confessed, "Actually we put up the money for them."
"I know the Malays have no money. You Chinese have the money but still I just can't simply sign the application for you. You have to tell me who are these people, what is their background?" Tunku admonished.
"OK, OK! I'll do that Tunku," the guy said and quietly sat down.
Then the Indian Muslim man happily announced that he had convinced a friend in Sungei Pattani to accept Islam.
Tunku nodded happily and asked him to sit down. He then came straight to the Malay lad and me and warmly shook our hands and attended to us, enquiring whether we had our coffee and how he could help us.
We said yes and thanked him for the coffee. The Malay boy and I felt 10 feet tall the way Tunku treated us in front of the three rich and powerful guests.
The Malay boy said he had left school after form three and could not find a job and his family were poor. Tunku told him if he was not fussy about manual work, he would get him a job with the JKR (Public Works Department) tending trees and parks, and promptly dictated a letter to the secretary.
Turning to me, he said, "You have a problem with your passport after deportation from Burma. Just yesterday the immigration director from KL was here to visit me. What a coincidence! He told me if I need any help don't hesitate to tell him. I will give you a letter. You go to KL immigration and see him. You will get your passport back in no time."
Two weeks earlier I had my first encounter with the Tunku and had spent several hours talking about the Burmese Rohinga refugees, while he tape-recorded it with a mini-tape recorder (very rare to see in 1978).
I was deported from Burma after a year in that country's notorious jails. My crime was entering th country without a visa as a journalist. I was asked by the Muslim leader in the jail to see the Tunku when I got out and tell him all about their problems and persecution under the Burmese. [See story in Islamic Herald]
I wrote to Perkim, the Islamic Welfare Association founded by Tunku, and told them my situation and asked to see the Tunku as requested by the Muslim leader who was in jail with me. The reply was prompt and to my surprise they requested permission to print my letter in the Islamic Herald. It was the beginning of my very fortunate and happy friendship with the Tunku.
My passport had been taken away by the government and I was told that I was under investigation because of the jail sentence. The passport could only be returned after I was cleared.
When? It could be years or never, I was told. I had two jobs waiting for me in Bangkok - with the Businese Times newspaper and as a reporter for the US news agency UPI at the 1978 Asian Games.
But without a passport I was unemployable. Tunku was my savior. Without him, my career and future would have been greatly jeopardised.
After these episodes I had many more encounters with the Tunku, each of them memorable, educational and an insight to his wisdom and humanity.
His birthday open houses were warm and touching affairs, with a generous spread of Malay food and other goodies. The Chinese families, around 60 per cent of those present, would surround him together with their little children, calling out: "Say happy birthday to Tunku!"
He loved children and the children swarmed around him naturally, taking to the kind old man like ducklings to water.
His visit to Bangkok in 1985 was another unforgetable event. By then my work had been going well and many of my articles were published in local and international media.
Tunku and his Perkim entourage came in Sarawak chief minister Taib Mahmud's private jet. Taib was deputy president and Tunku's right-hand man in Perkim. But there was no mention of the visit in the local press.
Tunku was very disappointed with Perkim's press secretary (an Australian convert to Islam working for Perkim), said Tarmizi Hashim, the press attache of the Malaysian embassy. Tarmizi rounded up the media. The next day the whole Bangkok press corp turned up to hear a beaming Tunku talk about Perkim's important humanitarian work among Bangkok Muslims.
Tunku was a hit with the Thai reporters because he grew up in the Thai court of King Rama 6. To them, Tunku qualified as Thai royalty and the government honoured him with two police out-rider escorts whenever he comes to the kingdom.
He and his elder brother were "hostages" in the court as Kedah was still a vessal state of Siam at the turn of the century. He came back to Kedah in his early teens and studied at the Penang Free School. His elder brother stayed in Thailand and became a Major General in the Royal Thai Army.
"My brother died and was buried in a Bangkok Muslim cemetery," the Tunku said. "When I became PM in 1957, the first thing I did was an official visit to Bangkok."
"After being conferred the highest decoration, I went to the Muslim cemetery and exhumed my brother's remains and brought them back to Kedah for reburial in my family's cemetry. I am the only Muslim in the world who has done that," Tunku said with a chuckle.
A Thai reporter asked Tunku whether he could still speak Thai. Tunku said that in Kedah, Thai spoken is differently from that spoken in Bangkok. Like "Tham Pleu, Tham Plue" means "What to do, what to do!.
The next day it was front-page in all the dailies: "Tunku speaks fluent Thai," together with the comment that Tunku also pointed out Malaysian journalist Kim Gooi who was jailed in Burma whom he knows.
The Tunku pointed out that the residents of the big Muslim community of Nongchok on Bangkok's outskirts were descendents of Kedah slaves captured and brought to Bangkok to build the canals in the last century. That's why all the mosques and many Muslim community are along the canals.
These were his people captured as slaves and brought from Kedah to dig the canals. Tunku never forgets them, they were close to his heart. Thank God, they survived and living well as the land where many settled as become valuable now, he commented.
Tunku also remembered he complained to the Thai government during the official visit that there was no central mosque in Bangkok despite the substantial number of Muslims. The result was the big mosque we see today at Hua Mak district of Bangkok, he said proudly.
In December 1985 Malaysian press attache Tamizi arranged a meeting for me to meet opium king Khun Sa at his stronghold on the Thai-Burmese border.(5-part-story printed in NST Jan 27-Jan 31,1986). The guide and escort was a Chinese Muslim ex-general of the Kuomintang Army, Ma Sian.
Ma was an admirer of the Tunku and I suggested to him to present the Shan army commanders' walking stick to Tunku. It is a beautiful rattan cane as thick as a toe with a curve handle. All the commanders carry one into battle and Khun Sa carried one whenever he inspected his troops.
The cane was duly delivered to the embassy. After a few months Tamizi told me that the embassy could not send it to Tunku because it is not proper coming from Khun Sa, the opium warlord of the Golden Triangle. You have to take it a deliver it to him yourself, they told me.
I presented the cane to him in 1987 and said it was from the Shan people. By coincidence I was told by Colonel Khern Sai of the Shan State Army that the Tunku's mother was actually a Shan princess. This was not too surprising, considering that the Shan and Thai are branches of the same family of people.
As usual we had coffee and a long chat. When I told him I had been to the Philippines to cover the Aquino assassination, he told me of the arrogance and offences committed by then-president Ferdinand Marcos against our Agong a few years ago.
Our Agong, after retirement went for a round-the-world cruise. During a stopover in Manila, our ambassador arranged for a visit to Malacanyang Palace. When the Agong's limosine arrived at the palace gate, Marcos ordered the car to stop and the Agong had to walk up the driveway to the palace. Our ambassador was aghast and protested. Finally Marcos relented and a great insult to Malaysia was averted.
"Even then Marcos showed his arrogance," said Tunku. "Instead of coming to the door to greet our Agong. He stood behind the desk and made the Agong walked up to greet him.
"This was too much," Tunku said indignantly.
In 1986, Marcos had to flee the Philippines and died in exile in Hawaii three years later.
For a journalist, talking to the Tunku was a goldmine of information. I was privy to many exclusive bits of information.
On one occasion the Tunku asked me how I had come to his house and how I planned to return to Tanjung Bungah. I told him I took a taxi and intended to walk to Pulau Tikus and take a bus back.
He said he could give me a lift to Pulau Tikus since he he went there most afternoons, to his favourite market to shop around.
In the car, his bodyguard Owen Chung was in the front beside Samad. I sat proudly in the back sitting beside the Tunku as the limousine eased out of the driveway and cruised along the tree-lined Ayer Raja Road, to Cantonment Road towards Pulau Tikus. That was the most memorable ride ever in my life.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
author
