This is the story about Mr. Thanda, my former teacher and Hostel Master from Bukit Mertajam Penang who came to teach in a far flung school known as Sultan Ibrahim Secondary School in 1962 immediately after graduating from Malayan Teachers College.
An Outsider in SIS Pasir
Mas
Thanda Govindasamy/Wan
Faridah Wan Jaafar
Racial integration
The Kelantanese
are generally friendly and helpful. However, they do keep an arm’s length from
people from outside the state. This is
especially so with people whom they recently meet and
do not know too well. These outsiders
are normally termed as orang luar(outsider). Despite this idiosyncrasy, once an orangluar is accepted, the Kelantanese
will usually embrace an orangluar as
a family member.
I was prepared
for life in this Malay dominated state.
I had a two-year stint at Penang
Malayan Teachers’ Training College, being thrown in the dormitory together with
mostly Malay students from Kelantan, Terengganu and Johore. Furthermore, I had an
early dose of racial integration as I grew up in Kampong Baru, Bukit Mertajam,
Penang. It was multi-racial kampong (village) and people of all
races mixed freely. We assimilated so well that in school, it never crossed my
mind that I must be careful with what said or did, so as not to hurt thefeelings
of friends. Race, religion, culture and food were never issues of concern at
all. Life was easy going for all of us.
At the
end of our second year in the training college we were given forms to fill. One was for us to indicate where we would
like to be posted to start our teaching career. My Kelantanese friends said to me, “Come to Kelantan”.
So I wrote “Kelantan”. I never told my
parents that I had requested for a Kelantan posting otherwise they would have freaked out! For whatever reason,
they believed that Kelantan then was not a safe place to be. Those days there were too many stories floating
around of bomohs(shamans) and black
magic practised in these states, especially in Kelantan.
As requested,
I got posted to Sultan Ibrahim Secondary School (SIS), Pasir Mas, Kelantan. I was happy but dared not show how thrilled I
was in front of my parents. Of course my parents were persistent that I appeal
against the posting. I told them that if I were to appeal I might be posted to a
worse town or a more remote village. I must have appeased my parents with that
reasoning for the appeal issue was never again raised.
Getting to Pasir Mas
There
was a nationwide railway strike in 1963 and all train services in the country were put on hold. So how was I to get to Pasir Mas then? There
was nobody from my village whom I knew were knowledgeable enough for me to ask about
getting to Pasir Mas.
In
panic, I forgot that schools had already reopened after the December long year
end school holidays. I also forgot that in
Kelantan schools start on Sundays. In desperation, Icalled and spoke to the Principal,
Mr. Yussof Ghouse. He told me that I
should take a flight to Kota Bahru. Flight? ButI have never flown before! After
some inquiries I managed to get a flight to Kota Bahru, but the seat was only
available a week later. The airport was then
in Butterworth. All set, my flight was
on 13th January even though schools in Kelantan had reopened on 2nd
January. Never did it cross my mind that I was going to a Malay
dominated state with different culture and customs.
I
landed in Kota Bharu to be welcomed by my first shower of the heavy northeast
monsoon rain. After asking around, I got into a shared taxi and headed for Pasir
Mas. After over an hour’s ride, the taxi came to an abrupt stop. It stopped near a wide river and while I was
still at a loss as to what to do next, the other passengers got out of the taxi
and rushed to some small motorised boats moored by the jetty near the river
bank. I was told that the school I was headed to was across the river. I had to
get into one of the boats, what the locals called ferry, to cross the river. In
spite of my initial apprehension, we got
across safely and again I looked for a taxi to take me to my final destination.
Upon
inquiry, I was instead greeted by good-natured shouts of, “Mana ada teksi? Inilah teksi”,(What
taxi? This is the taxi) from a few men standing under the shade. They were pointing to what were really
trishaws or beca. My first language
lesson of the local dialect! However, I found that the people were very
friendly and helpful, just like what my friends mentioned in college. I relived the teksi ride many times over, a beholding sight it was! Imagine
tall me fitting into the small teksi
cabin, with my luggage on the cabin floor by my feet and the poor thin teksi rider huffing and puffing across
Pasir Mas town to deliver me to the gates of SIS.
On
entering the school compound I met with two teachers, Mr. V. V.George and Mr.
Leslie Abraham. They showed me to the school hostel as directed by the school Principal.
A life new chapter
Came 14th
January, I reported to the Principal.
After the formal welcome greetings he directed me to ask Mr. George for
my class timetable. Only then did I
realise that Mr. George was the school Senior Assistant. He had heard a lot about me from Mr. Pang Chok
Chu, who was my college mate. Apparently, Mr. Pang had told Mr. George a great
deal about me; that I was this and that, and could do this and that. Thanks to my absentee introduction, I became a
home teacher, teacher in-charge of the English Literary and Debating Society,
and the Scouts Master to top. Matilah saya!(I am dead!)
Worse of
all, my class was in the afternoon. There goes my time for games. After this initial introduction, I headed
back to the hostel. The hostel residents
were looking strangely at me, as if I had just arrived from Africa! The smaller boys, with all heads popping in
and out of the windows, looked frightened.
It was further terrifying for them to know that all of them were going
to be in the afternoon session class with me!
Next, I
was to enter a strange world, Form 1B, my home class. To my surprise the class had only eight boys
and 16 unruly girls. To every question
of mine, it was the girls who answered.
I told myself that this would not do.
For the first time I became biased against the girls! Just to niggle the
girls, I chose two of the quietest boys as the class monitor and assistant.
I taught
English to my class and woodwork lessons to all Form 1 class boys. There were two form one classes.
It was
much later when I realised that I had a mixed class of students; a group who
came through bridge class and another from Standard 6 from the neighbouring
English Primary School. A bridge class in
the school was essentially an adjustment class meant for students from
vernacular schools who opted to continue their secondary education at SIS. SIS was then the only English medium
secondary school for the whole district of Pasir Mas. In SIS most of the bridge class students were
from the surrounding Chinese primary schools.
No wonder there was such a vast difference in speech, mannerism and
level of confidence. I decided I had to
do something about this major differences; not according to race, religion and
culture but based more on the confidence level of each student, especially that
of the boys.
As
months passed by, I managed to get the boys and ex-bridge class students to be
more vocal and participative in class activities. Little did I realise then that these devils I
had would later break the school’s record with their Form 5 examination results!
To
those who came through the English primary school, they had Mr. Vijaya to thank for developing their
confidence while in Standard 6. He did a
great job and I was sure of that from the boisterous sample I had in my class. Many still recognised his contributions. Some from the bridge class who also managed to do well in Form 5, went on to university to further their studies
and became successful in their chosen careers.
Well done to all my ex-students! Surprisingly one who did not manage to do well
quit school early but later in life was able to build by himself, his own two-storey house in his later years. He is a successful man now, all by his own
making.
Race,
religion and culture were never ever mentioned or uttered in all the six years
I spent in SIS, be it among my colleagues or students. A big syabas
(congratulations) to my ex-students especially the ones who completed their
Form 5 in 1967 and 1968. I had the privilege
to move with the same class from Form 1 to Form 5, except in 1966, when I left
for a one year in-service training course at the Specialist Teachers’ Training
College in Cheras, Kuala Lumpur.
Those
were the days, most memorable, unforgettable and the
best part of my teaching career and life too. A big thank you to all my good friends.
The hostel story
My
hostel story is another unforgettable episode of my days in Pasir Mas. My SIS hostel days were so interesting and
memorable, so much so that I am not sure how to start and end writing about all
the experiences that I went through.
Mr.Vijaya,
the Hostel Master, told me frankly, loud and clear that my hostel stay was only
transient. At the most I will be allowed
to stay for another two or three days, after which I would have to move out and
find accommodation elsewhere. When I
returned to the hostel after my first day in school, Mr.Vijaya was waiting for
me, all dressed up to help go look for a
room for me to reside. So we went room
hunting, but no rooms were available.
The few that we saw, Mr.Vijaya did
not take a liking to them. Privately, I
was happy. This went on for next two or
three days. Fortunately for me, Mr.
Peter Souster started saying, “I don’t mind sharing room with you, further I am
supposed to return to England in August”.
By that
time Mr.Vijaya had taken a liking to me as he found out that we shared common
interests. He asked about his
ex-students who were in my class then.
Our conversations became interesting and Mr.Vijaya suddenly said, “If
Peter doesn't mind, you can continue to stay on”. Peter was happy too because we played the
same games; hockey, cricket and rugby.
We clicked well and what a relief it was for me as I no longer needed to
worry about food, laundry or transport. What more could I asked for?
Gradually
I got to know some of the bigger hostel boys, especially those who played
games. The feeling that I was accepted
by the Hostel Master and the student residents took a load of pressure and
tension off my shoulders.
Yes, I
became part of the hostel and enjoyed every moment of my stay there. Sometimes in June/July, Mr.Vijaya
gained admission to the University of Malaya and Peter left for England in
August. Both left and I was appointed as
the Hostel Master. With the job came the
responsibility. Mr.Yussof Ghouse told me
in no simple term, “You cannot be smiling and just be a good friend to the
boys. These boys are mostly from the kampongs and need to be developed with
proper discipline and mannerism. They
need proper supervision and you have to be strict. Punish them if necessary”.
There
were only three Chinese boys staying in the hostel and one of them was the
school Head Prefect and automatically became the Hostel Head Prefect. This further reinforced my belief that race, religion and food were not
sensitive issues at all. I had a meeting
with the Head Prefect, got all the information I needed and began the task of
working with the tiniest to the naughtiest.
Soon I found out that the Rantau Panjang gang was calling the shots in
the hostel. Most of the boys from other kampongs were scared of this Rantau Panjang
gang. I got around them by getting these
big Rantau Panjang bullies involved in games.
The
hostel residents were outstanding in nearly all school activities. I found them well-behaved too. The boys had nothing to complain because they
had four meals a day compared to some of their classmates. They were indeed well fed as just after three
months in the hostel, one could see them gaining weight, looked healthy and
were very active.
Having
the opportunity to stay in the hostel was indeed a plus point for these
boys. However, these privileges came
with strict conditions. Should they be
caught breaking the hostel rules, they could be expelled. But I do not recall having to dismiss anyone
from the hostel. They were mostly from
poor homes and life in the hostel was more than anyone could ask for, me
included. Similarly, should I fail to perform my duties, I too would
be replaced. This made all of us in the
hostel took our roles seriously.
An Outsider Accepted
I was
the Hostel Master from August 1963 till the end of 1965. In 1966, I was away for a one year in-service
training. Mr. Pang then took over the role
of the Hostel Master. When I returned in
1967, the Principal asked me to take charge of the hostel again. That was a surprise to me. More so of the news of Mr. Pang getting
married and moving to the teachers’ quarters.
I continued to perform the Hostel Master’s duty till the end of 1968. By then I was fully accepted by the students
and especially the hostel residents, that the
orang luar feeling was all gone. It
was indeed sad when I had to leave the place.
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