I went shopping last night and got myself a brand new all-in-one printing machine and a sleek Panasonic cordless phone. Total sweetnes. And I didn't know that the chicken rice at Century was delish! Oops, better not mention food, alas I'll be called a fat bitch again. Hyak. (Anyways why is everybody using 'hyak'? BB.) That's not the reason for my entry today. I was strangely reminiscing about my secondary school malay teachers in the cab last night, partly because the cab driver looked so much like one of them pyschos. When I was in my last year, our malay class, students ranging from all the express classes, kept changing relief teachers, because they hadn't found a permanent one yet. So I shall recall some of them here.
Cikgu Hairi was a nice old man who kept interrupting us with stories about his past, present and future, and through his stories, he was reunited with his distant nephew Dzuk, my class mate. He calls us by names of places, most probably because he couldn't be bothered to remember our names. Dzuk was Japan, Syla was Indon, Ain was Bangkok, I was Australia. His malay was excellent, so excellent that sometimes we couldn't fathom what he was saying and it would be his Eh Bodoh time. "Cikgu nie...?" Eh Bodoh. "Cikgu tu...?" Eh Bodoh.
Next was this middle-aged lady who was a head-turner and had a great ass. Just made the guys' dicks pumping harder than before. She brought an apple everyday for lunch (she's never going to be a fat bitch at that rate.) Her malay was terrible, but her problems more than made up for it. She treated us like her phychiatrists (maybe she just couldn't afford it) and she was so open that she told us about her sex life. And the kids gave her advice lah, oh my god! Boleh layankan pulak. One time, we found her finishing up her tears but didn't question why. She was gone the next day.
Now this next teacher was the most classic, ever. This one triggered the journey back. This one was lucky enough to resemble that cab driver. He was a big burly Malaysian man who had to make his way back and forth from JB to Bishan every single day. He said he did it for the money. (?) Initially he was cool, telling us stories and making us laugh with his jokes, like any other big burly man did. Until one day he snapped and had CRAZY written all over his face.
He came into class, banged a student's table, shouted "No one likes me!", went back to his table and stared out the window. (Poor Hajar, she had the freakiest scare of her life. Tu lah, nak sangat duk depan class.) On another day, he'd be laughing to himself. From murmurs to great big giant HAHAs. Another day, he'd be saying that the Singapore government had a motive for enlisting boys every year. Another day he'll just sit at his table and say "I don't feel like teaching today." and went silent for the next hour or so. Another day, he'll swear at us. "Babi awak-awak ni semua!" LMFAO!! Well, he got reported and fired and I hadn't seen him since. Till last night. (HAHAHA!)
We got a perfect teacher the next week and life resumed its ordinary-ness.
Babi awak-awak ni semua.
LMFAO.
