Datuk Masidi Manjun- a Dusun guy one can respect

I just came back from the launch of Fabian William's album, Id Pagandadan at the Le Meridien Hotel, Kota Kinabalu. Believe it or not, this is the first time I've ever attended an album launch. I have loved the experience. Fabian, as expected, performed excellently. In fact his voice is much better live.

Anyway, the album was launched by Datuk Masidi Manjun, the minister at the Ministry of Tourism, Culture and Environment. He himself is from Ranau, so it comes as no surprise that he is very supportive of the new artist. But one thing for sure, he is a person that one can really respect. I have attended a few functions in which he gives speeches, and at the end of each function, I always arrived at the same conclusion- his speech has substance.

At the launch, he honestly appraised Fabian's songs. 9 out of the 10 in the album he finds excellent. "Fabian's lyrics are deep (using 'deep' Dusun) and fresh", he said. And he reminded everyone present never to think "I am the best of the best" because out there, there must be somebody who's better than you, but they haven't had the chance to shine as yet. In short, he reminded everyone to always be humble, because humility will take us far.

I'm oblivious to what critics say about him. So far, what I've experienced with him were all positive. Intelligent, witty, humble, non-descriminative, to name some of his traits, I'll remain one of his steadfast admirers.

The girl who gave me a massage

She reminded me of sunflowers, for whatever reason, but never once did I ask her name, despite being quite a regular customer at the reflexology centre. But I always asked for her because I liked the way she kneaded my feet. In December 2011 she said she was going to get married, and wouldn't be working there anymore. I felt sorry that I won't be enjoying her massage anymore in the future.

I didn't go to the place again, until this month. I was desperate for a massage, so I went. What a pleasant surprise to see her there! We started chatting like old friends ( and I realized then that people often mean more to us than we ever realize). I asked her about her wedding, and she told me everything down to the last details.

Then I blurt out "so, your parents are separated?", having deduced from the conversation that she had the wedding at her mother's place. "Yes, since I was 12", she said matter of factly. Then without me asking, she went on to tell me how, when she was about to sit for her UPSR (year 6) exam, her father 'borrowed' her from her mother, saying that he was going to get her Malaysian Identification made (they are of Philippine descent). He, who then was married to a local and had a newborn baby decided to keep her for good to be their convenient babysitter. She begged him to let her go to school, but he could not be bothered to listen to her. And she ended up being her father and stepmother's 'amah' for 7 years. The only good thing to have been living with her father and stepmother for her was that the step-grandmother was very good at traditional massage, and she taught her to do it.

"So when I turned 20, I stole my identity card from my father, left his home, and went back to my mother (who lives 8 hours drive away)", she ended her story. I admire the girl her spirit. Not everyone would have survived the way she had, and still could make a decent living. I'm glad I know her story- it has made me appreciate more the things I tend to take for granted like access to education.

I came out of the reflexology center a little bit wiser, and I made sure I asked her her name this time. Although in my culture, not asking somebody's name is not rude; it's even encouraged, I'm glad I can now call her name whenever I see her.

and this isTuaran

Finally I managed to force myself to go to the Land Department in Tuaran to get my land title. Yay! Land title. It has such a beautiful ring to it. A piece of land by the sea near Rasa Ria Resort that hubby and I bought with the money we toiled and sweated with. And it's MINE (Ha ha, people will think I'm crazy for being so excited about this. But there is a difference between earning a land title and inheriting one from one's family).

Anyway, I parked outside the building and confidently strode into the building, hesitating only briefly before entering a corridor that led to the land office, at least to my recollection of the place 10 months before. Only that it wasn't an office at all but a conference room, full of jolly elderly people. All eyes were on me and I knew I had to say something. "Sini pejabat tanah ka?" (Is this the land office?), I addressed the question to no one in partidular. Everybody answered me at the same time that I couln't really get what they were saying. Then a young man said "Bukan. Pejabat tanah sana di sebelah. Bangunan Urusetia" (No, the land office is at the other side. Urusetia Building). "Mo ambil geran tanah ka?" (Are you getting your land title?), came a question from an elderly lady. Gosh, it must have been written so clearly on my face. When I admitted it, somebody responded, "Oh, sini bukan tempat ambil geran. Sini tempat kasi tinggal harta" (Oh, this is not the place to get land titles. Here is the place that you leave (arrange to leave) your properties). They all laughed merrily again, looking at me, clearly expecting me to laugh with them. The hilariousnes of the situation struck me. There I was trying to get my land title at a place where people leave their properties, and I so laughed with them. Everyone tried to give me the direction to the land office, and I stood listening, not knowing who to listen to. Finally the young man took charge and showed me the way to the right office, all along jokingly asking me whether the land was big and whether I'd care to share it with them. In response, I jokingly told him that it was only a little piece of paper that I couldn't possibly share it with so many people.

In the land office I was asked to produce the slip they gave me when I applied for the title. I have totally forgotten about that. I thought I'd have to go back home and search for that slip, but instead the lady at the counter asked me to give her my identification card so she could try searching for it. Her reaction surprised me a bit because in many offices in KK I had experienced less friendly treatments for forgetting important documents. She went through her files patiently and 5 minutes later found my land title. I thanked her, wished her happy holidays and dashed out of the office. Outside at the parking lot, I bumped into the group of jolly elderlies again. A closer look at them made me realize that they were made up of various races- Chinese, Dusun, Bajau and perhaps more, but they looked so comfortable with each other. I told myself this is after all Tuaran. One of the melting pots of races in Sabah, where most people live in harmony and speak at least three languages.

They saw me, and waved as if I was an old friend. Somebody shouted to ask whether I had gotten my land title and when I shouted back "yes", they cheered like a group of schoolkids. I smiled happily, knowing one day I'd build my home in Tuaran, and wishing that all my neighbours would be good-natured and jolly people like this lot.