Sawadeekap

I am with the boss now in Bangkok, who's here for the 4th Annual Consultation Between Malaysia and Thailand. The delegation is led by the PM, and going by the crowd who welcomed him at the hotel last night, we have a fairly big team here. In fact, it is a bit too big.

Well, I found out this morning - from a Wisma Putra memo slipped between the International Herald Tribune and The Bangkok Post which were delivered to my hotel room - that lower-ranking officers like myself are not required to attend any of the events today. Wait, the "exemption" is not just for those at the bottom of the pecking order like myself. Even my colleague, a very senior official and a Dato' has also been excused. The boss, of course, will be there.

Some checks revealed that the eleventh-hour change (we were supposed to be at the official welcoming ceremony and Consultation proper) was due to logistical constraints. Shucks, I was actually looking forward to visiting the Government House at the Thai Koo Fah Building. And sit through a meeting chaired by two PMs (never experienced before mah...).

Well, I guess that leaves me some time to do some shopping and walk around town. A journalist friend from Malaysia I met yesterday said there's an outlet near the hotel which charges the equivalent of RM30 for an hour of foot massage. That's dirt cheap.

Heard along the corridors... (3)

Actually, a close friend asked this over lunch in KLCC last week.

"I have two questions I have been meaning to ask for a while, since you work in the government. First of all, did Anwar do it? Secondly tell me, what's with PM and the Mongolian woman?"

I am flattered people think I have access to "Who REALLY killed JFK"-type files, if they ever exist in Malaysia.

It also shows the kind of questions running through the back of the peoples' minds. In fact, it serves as a useful guide on managing public perception. It takes Herculean restraint for me not to feed on their wild imaginations ;)

My answers to such questions? Oh, I already have them memorised from page 25 to 63 of the "Official Response to Touchy Subjects Guidebook for Malaysian Civil Servants Volume XXVII".

What would you do if...

...you see things happening that you think should not? What do you do if the boss does something completely unexpected and perhaps even unnecessary? What do you do if you think it is a strategically inexpedient move?

I can fret and complain and moan till the cows - and all the other farm animals - come home.

Or I can psych myself into believing that the boss, being the boss, is privvy to much more information which I am not. That, as an aide , I can only see a small part of the whole. And when a battle is at its height, the general got no time to tell the foot soldiers why he decides to retreat or advance when the only thing that matters is winning.

I, or the boss - or both of us - may be wrong. But once the bridge is crossed (and occasionally burnt) it is pointless to discuss the merits of the decision. What's more important is the road ahead.

This is not sense of denial or the ostrich syndrome. Call it Political Aide-ism 101, if you will. Really, this is not about being a yes-man. It's about knowing your place in the overall scheme of things.

Am still around...

Been some time since I last blogged. Most would know what me and my colleagues have gone through over the past few months, which really has been an enriching experience. Honest.

One of the many lessons I have learnt over the past few challenging months is to seize the moment. With the boss overseas now and a little precious free time to spare, I would not want to waste an opportunity to resuscitate AideSpeak. Although I must admit that I have been fairly active on Twitter too, at the expense of this cobwebbed blog.

The past three months have been a roller-coaster of emotional highs and let-downs, but more importantly a thoroughly enriching learning experience. For example, I lived through the "one day is a long time in politics" maxim, instead of just being a casual observer. And I have a better sense of what "there are no permanent friends or enemies in politics" means.

Many of us have grown a little wiser from this experience, not necessarily less-trusting and more manipulative. But certainly more vigilant. Thank God for the family and good friends who have stood by during crunch time. Many many thanks for that words of encouragement or that thoughtful SMS.

I couldn't possibly return all the missed calls or answer all the text messages and I apologise for that. For whatever it is worth, I want to keep AideSpeak alive and I even have some fresh ideas on how to go about it.

In the meantime, I need to get back to whatever has been holding me back from blogging all these months...

For posterity...

I wrote an one-off piece which appeared in the New Sunday Times last week. I figured before the link expire, I better reproduce it here. For record only lah.

Thank God the online version did not carry my picture byline, which was taken some three years ago, when I was still based with the newspaper. Now look older I guess... How not to?

Politician's aide -- a behind-the-scenes story
2009/08/16


I WORK as an aide to a minister -- not a job some parents would want their kids to take up these days.

Aides to politicians today instantly remind one of Teoh Beng Hock, the political secretary who died tragically last month.

In fact, his boss, a senior Selangor leader who happens to be my assemblyman, had complained of difficulties in finding a replacement for Teoh, following objections from parents.

We aides tend to shun the media limelight, unlike some of our bosses. This makes our jobs much easier, but it also lends an air of mystery to what we do.


I get a lot of "what is your day-to-day like?" queries, usually asked with a suspicious tone and puzzled stares. I am used to it and, in a strange way, enjoy feeding on the imaginations of those who form ideas about officialdom from shows like The West Wing.

For aides, there is no one-job-description-fits-all. We aides, well, aid the boss in different capacities. Some take care of his ministerial matters, others his schedule, his constituency, his political activities and so on and so forth.

Invariably, the lines of responsibilities do blur, but this only adds to the wealth of knowledge and
experience we acquire along the way.

Before I took up this job, I was also a journalist like the late Teoh. Like him, we both took up the new challenge after last year's general election.

Friends tease me for "turning to the Dark Side". It's a jibe I still get, and one I take in my
stride.

For me personally, it has been very challenging since Day One. For starters, I joined a government which was at the time -- and let's be frank about this -- perceived to be under siege.

In the aftermath of the watershed March 8 general election, the conventional wisdom then was not to join a government that could tumble come Sept 16.

And since my appointment is tied to that of the minister's tenure, fears of me losing a job
were rather alarming.

Well, the date came and went and I guess the country's political scene has changed somewhat since. In any case, I do not get involved in any political activities.



Politics aside, work can be stressful when one is attached to a high-profile public figure. When the boss is under pressure, so are we.



And here's my favourite analogy: parts of a high-performance engine, like the spark plugs and pistons, tend to wear out faster than those in an ordinary one.

We aides are on round-the-clock standby and, unlike newspapers, there is no such thing as "offstone" time, when journalists can afford to take it easy after the pages go to the press.

Still, the job offers a rewarding experience few other professions could ever provide. I now have a better sense of how the government works, am privy to what goes on away from the public glare and help wage running battles along the corridors of power -- to keep the boss's agenda
on top.

Regardless of one's political affiliation, it is a privilege to be helping out near the stratospheric reaches of power.

Sure, it's not a bed of roses and, invariably, work does get into my personal life. Now, I am more wary of who I mingle with, what I say and how I say it.

Whether I like it or not, these are the things that will come to reflect on the boss -- and the last thing we want is to make the boss look bad.

Heck, I've even spent a fortune changing my wardrobe and even stopped going to the neighbourhood barber.

Crossing over to "the other side" also means coming to terms with the changing dynamics of friendships. There are former fellow journalists who I now have a strained relationship with due to professional differences.

There are even friends who take offence at me joining a leader whose party ideology is different from theirs (despite me telling them that I do not get involved in politics).

But along the way, I also make many new friends.

And then, of course, there's the family aspect. For better or worse, they have grown used to me being away on some weekends and late nights. And I am thankful they have remained supportive thus far.

All in all, being an aide has been a wonderful learning experience. Just being able to witness up-close how greed and power can bring out the best and worst in humanity is gratifying enough.

And yes, if my kids have the stomach for it, I wouldn't be the one stopping them from
following in their dad's footsteps.


* The writer is an aide to the Transport Minister and used to be an NST journalist. When he finds the time, he blogs at http://aidespeak.blogspot.com

Thursdays with batik

Thursdays are batik days for male civil servants. We are encouraged to wear the wax-and-dye attire, whose origins - like the Rasa Sayang song - have sparked heated debate between Malaysia and Indonesia.

Since joining the civil service, I've grown to love batik, although I only own two pairs (the third one has since been discarded). Good batik is pricey. I can get two decent long-sleeved working shirts during sales for the price of one batik (which is hardly discounted, even during the sales period).

But the comfort of not wearing a tie and not having to tuck in your shirt make it all worth it. And somehow, it's more "cooling" too. I can also wear batik when working on weekends - when jeans, khakis or tees can come across as somewhat informal for certain events. And whether you need to attend a Malay, Chinese or Indian wedding reception, you can almost never go wrong with batik.

And speaking of Malay attire, I put on a songkok last Thursday. That's because I followed the boss to a briefing which involves a Sultan on some Ministry-related matters. As royal protocol dictates, one must wear a songkok and a dark suit (not batik) on such occasions. (By the way, the songkok originated from India, but unlike the batik, so far there is no diplomatic row over the headgear.)

Anyway, my 3½-year-old son who saw me with the songkok a day earlier, said I "look like a boss". I have no inkling where he formed such ideas.

Heard along the corridors... (2)

A dear friend from overseas sent an interesting email yesterday morning. I've lifted one sentence from the correspondence.

"DAP can just show clips from Teoh Beng Hock's wedding and make all the auntie's in the Chinese majority areas cry."

How true. Creepy but true. It's also a reflection of what makes Malaysians tick or not.