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.

Yasmin Ahmad, editors and politicians

Many of my friends are outraged over an article in a Malay tabloid yesterday about the late Yasmin Ahmad, the award-winning director whose works have stirred our consciousness of what it means to be a Malaysian.

I am equally upset that the paper chose to resurrect her past, knowing full well that she was not able to defend herself or clear the air. It was a cheap shot at sensationalism.

But hey, wait a minute. Nobody forced anyone to read the article. In fact, most of the people who bawled at the tabloid's ill-treatment of Yasmin barely flipped through the tabloid on any other days.

The publisher and editors there, it doesn't take a genius to figure, was just trying to sell its paper using the tried and tested formula of cheap sensationalism. Sex sells. Violence sells and let's not even get started with scandals. That's Business 101 for you.

Ok, I am not trying to defend the paper. In fact, if I were the editor there, I would have spiked (journalism slang for "delete") the story immediately. But, I am not and the editors there obviously thought that it was a a topic that appeals to their readers. And considering that the tabloid has been in operation for half a decade, the editors there must have been fairly accurate about what its readers want to read or not. Bottom line is and without referring to any specific examples, sometimes it's the readers who determine what kind of news the editors choose to put out.

I guess in that sense, politicians too are like editors. Their words and deeds are dictated to a large extent by what the populace wants. Although somehow or rather, "populism" has earned a somewhat negative connotation in the media. People use the phrase "so and so is a populist politician" as though it's a bad thing. People also pass remarks like "he / she behaves like a clown in Parliament" forgetting that it was the voters who put him or her there.

We can go on a debate about whether newspapers should shape the minds of the people instead of succumbing to commercial considerations. Or whether wakil rakyat should be leaders, not followers and play to the gallery. But that's another topic for another day.

But for now, everytime I come across a headline that say, reeks of racism, in say, Utusan Malaysia, I remind myself that there are some who can identify with the paper's editorial stance. And when I come across "clowns" in Parliament, I remind myself that others like myself put them there.

RIP, Beng Hock

I do not know Teo Beng Hock. Not until yesterday when he fell to his death.

I read from the papers that he, like me, was also a journo-turned-aide who took up the new challenge after the last general election. Like me, he was in his 30s. And we hail from the same hometown. His boss also happens to be my assemblyman.

Beng Hock and me may work for bosses who are on opposite sides of the political divide. Still, I feel like a member of the Aide Brotherhood has gone. Yes, I am saddened over the demise of an individual I probably haven't met before, let alone know in person. It feels like a journalist reading about one of their own being killed while covering a war. Or how politicians react to news about the public pressure that led ex-South Korean president Roh Moo-hyun to his suicide last May.

I think it's not fair to speculate over how Beng Hock died. But his death has underscored one important point: we aides live a pressure-cooker lifestyle. Well, at least me and my colleagues do.

We often associate stress and pressure with high-profile jobs, with politicians and CEOs being among the first to come to mind. Of course, I cannot compare my work pressure with that of my boss', which is many times worse. But it doesn't take a mechanical engineer to figure out that the parts in a high-performance engine, like the gasket or spark plugs, tend to wear out faster than those in a mediocre one.

I believe aides are like a seafarer, fireman and a surgeon all rolled into one. Sometimes, we need to sail into uncharted, choppy waters. In between, there are intermittent fires to put out. The skillful surgeon could help remove knives on our backs -and that of the boss. Oh, I left out being a good actor and a juggler too, which actually goes without saying.

OK, Beng Hock is gone prematurely, and perhaps unnecessarily. It's time to get to the bottom of this. It will not bring Beng Hock back nor ease the pain for his family and fiance. But it is the only right thing to do.

Rest in peace, Beng Hock...

Being cynical

I was born and grew up in Malacca, once the nerve centre of the Malay Archipelago. The great Malacca Sultanate, according to history books, thrived because of its port, situated at the mouth of Sungai Melaka. Traders from as far as Arab, China and India came to Malacca to trade in anything from spice, gold and silk.

Over the centuries, the river has become heavily silted. I still remember in the 1980s up to mid-1990s, the great Malacca River which brave ancient seafarers from faraway lands had sailed into, was reduced to nothing more than a giant drain. It was a filthy eyesore, to say the least.

In the mid-1990s, the Agriculture Ministry undertook a programme called "Love Our Rivers", aimed at rehabilitating many of the polluted waterways nationwide. The state government also launched its own projects to restore Sungai Melaka to its former glory. It wanted to turn my hometown into "Venice of the East".

Naturally, such announcements were met with the usual reaction that almost always accompanied pronouncements of major projects: deep-rooted cynicism. "Satu lagi projek pembaziran duit rakyat". "Yeah rite, Venice of the East". "Who do you think you are kidding?"

I have no qualms admitting I was one of those cynical Joe Public, although those who knew me from secondary school days know that I have an affinity towards the Cintailah Sungai Kita programme.

Fast forward to 2009 and I hear nothing but praise for the Malacca river. Friends post pictures on Facebook, extolling the beauty of the waterway. Word of mouth about the river spread far and wide. Here are some pictures, sourced (without permission!) from Internet searches:

Here's my point: Malaysians are a cynical lot. I make no apologies that I still am one. But when things do turn out well, we quickly forget our cynicism and beat our chests, hoping that the world takes notice of our achievements.

I still remember how cynical I was to the government's plans to build Putrajaya using the country's oil money. At that time I thought it was a bloody waste of money. But now, whenever friends and relatives pay a visit, I make it a point to take them there because I think the Federal administrative capital is rather awesome (besides, it's quite near to my house). I am especially proud of the buildings near Precinct 3 (the long stretch of road sandwiched by PICC and the PM's Department). In fact, one can see busloads of tourists near the mosque area almost anytime of the day, including at night.

Ok, I do not want to make this posting sound like a propaganda piece. But sometimes when you are now on the Other Side, it is good to remind oneself not to get too distracted by deep-seated public cynicism. I can see where Malaysians' cynicism are coming from and I think this is something politicians need to address.

As for me, I will just try to stay focused on the job. And it absolutely helps that my office is in Putrajaya - the very place that made the cynic in me ate my words.

It's Out!

Yes, the PKFZ report is out. And I am glad. What a relief. Phew!

I think this is one of those things that will come to define boss' leadership. I don't care if you think that's an exaggeration. I don't care if you can summon the winds and the rain or can walk on water. I don't because the Report is out. Woooohooooo!!

But, it's been a cliffhanger over the past few weeks. The drama, the anticipation, the disappointment and finally a few hours ago, the release. All that does not matter now. The release is not the be-all end-all and the boss is in it for the long haul. But still...

Lemme pinch myself again. Ok, I am not dreaming. The Report IS out.

One year on

Today, it has been exactly one year since I left journalism, and about two weeks to a year since I joined the government. It's been a roller-coaster since Day 1.

Honestly, I did not know what to expect when I took up my current posting starting June 1 last year. It was a fairly different ball game from the one I ever knew. Some aspects of the job met my expectations, others fell far short. But what's really troubling now is that I am serving a government, increasingly under siege, not least by developments in Perak.

The idealist in me is upset, the realist in me knows there is only so much that can be done. One part in me wanna shout: dissolve the Perak assembly, play the underdog, cut losses and try to claw back in the next round - if at all. The other part in me says it ain't gonna happen and may not even be a good thing.

Ok, so much for politics. Do I miss journalism? Yes and no. Yes, I miss the adrenaline rush. I miss asking cheeky questions to newsmakers. But most of all, I miss the writing bit. But no, I can do without the crazy-hectic lifestyle which revolves around the political uncertainty post-March 8. No, I do not want to be woken up in the middle of the night only to be informed that Mas Selamat was caught by our more-efficient-than-Singapore authorities. And NO, getting tear-gassed when you already have to walk miles to cover an illegal rally under the scorching heat is not my idea of fun anymore.

Nowadays, I blog to ease my urge to write. And as I told some friends, I am far too tainted to return to journalism now. And even if I do, I have to steer clear of news reporting, much less write about politics - an area I used to focus on in the past. Although I have never been a member of any political parties, I have been thrust far too deep into the political spectrum to come across as a credible political writer for now.

Perhaps a stint doing movie reviews may help. Although since I became a dad in 2005, I have been to the cinema less than 5 times, the last show being "Madagascar: Escape 2 Africa" which I left some 40 minutes into the screening because that's how long my toddler's attention span could take (it was his first movie outing!).

Regrets? Not really. Sure, there were rough patches. Sometimes, you experience certain things which drains the living daylight out of you. Sure, power and greed bring out the best and worst in humanity. Sure,when the chips are down and the stakes are high, you just feel like hanging up your boots and say bye. But it's been one helluva experience so far, one which journalism would never have been able to offer. Yes, I would have gone through it all over again - only this time much wiser than before.

So, there you have it. One year on and life goes on. I wonder what I will blog about this time next year or whether I will still be an aide (my contract is for two years only). But really, I have no time to think about the unknown. There is a job to be done and I need to do it.

PS - Oh yeah, one more thing, I want to wish a dear colleague a happy birthday today. The person's been a great help. Thanks again!

Syok betul!

Hari ini, saya nak blog dalam Bahasa Melayu. Bukanlah BM saya terror sangat, walaupun saya belajar di sekolah Melayu (atau lebih dikenali sebagai Sekolah Kebangsaan). Meskipun saya kerja dengan gomen dan ramai orang Melayu di sana, saya masih tidak boleh berbangga sangat dengan penguasaan Bahasa Kebangsaan saya.

Sesungguhnya, saya menggunakan Bahasa Melayu sekarang kerana sejak kebelakangan ini, saya lebih prihatin akan akhbar-akhbar Bahasa Melayu. Maklumlah, saya ni bekerja dengan seorang pemimpin yang dikatakan mewakili kaum Tionghua dalam kerajaan Persekutuan. Isu-isu yang dibangkitkan dalam akhbar Bahasa Melayu perlu saya halusi dengan lebih teliti.

Kadang-kadang spin di akhbar seperti Utusan Malaysia lain. Isu kekalahan BN di Bukit Gantang, umpamanya. Lepas itu, isu konnonnya parti bos saya mendesak kerajaan untuk jawatan TPM II. Baru-baru ini pula, isu liberalisasi sektor perkhidmatan serta kewangan dimainkan. Isu demam demam babi pun boleh disensasikan (saya masih ingat tidak berapa lama dahulu "khinzir" lebih kerap digunakan dari "babi").

Terpulang kepada siapa yang anda tanya, spin dalam sesetengah artikel itu boleh berbaur perkauman ataupun bersifat "nasionalistik" (eh, ada perkataan Melayu tulen untuk perkataan ini tak?). Takpe, sini bukannya forum untuk membincangkan spin dalam media massa.

Membaca akhbar Bahasa Melayu ada baiknya. Bukan sahaja nak sokong konsep 1Malaysia (eh, takde nada sinis di sini, ok?). Kadang-kadang berita dalam Bahasa Melayu ini cukup sensasi. Saya begitu terkilan mengikuti berita tentang "Chulan Pondan" di Kosmo tempoh hari. Kadang-kadang, selepas overload dengan berita-berita serius, cerita berbentuk tabloid boleh hilangkan stress.

Baru semalam saya sedar perkataan seperti "syok" digunakan juga di akhbar arus perdana seperti Berita Harian . Walaupun - berdasarkan vocab BM saya yang amat terhad - "ghairah" mungkin lebih sesuai, tapi "syok" juga melihat BH gunakan perkataan sedemikian.

Saya pernah terbaca tidak lama dahulu bahawa kolumn yang paling popular dalam setiap akhbar BM ialah Forum Agama dan "Tanya Tuan / Puan". Saya memang setuju dengan pandangan tersebut!

Heard along the corridors... (1)

I plan to start collecting quotable quotes I pick up in the course of my job. They can be awesome, gems of wisdom, sarcastic, or like this one, downright vomit-inducing:

"You cannot offend him. He is one of the richest man in Malaysia."
- Overheard at a place I rather not disclose, uttered by a person whose identity is best left unknown.

I still cringe whenever I think of it now.

I.O.U.

Ok, this is not a work-related posting. I received a letter in the mailbox the other day which I just gotta share.

Cool huh?

Aide today, gone tomorrow

Like it or not, yesterday was historic. Malaysia witnessed the swearing in of a new PM - the sixth since Independence.

It also marked the end of an - for lack of better word - "era". The country's latest Tun is gone, together with his officers, aides and what-nots. I bade farewell to two of his aides using what seems to be the in-thing now - via Facebook. One of them was an ex-colleague and we used to cover each other's backs then.

Somehow, the change-of-guards on top served as a reminder just how precarious and transient my post is. I am here as long as the boss is around and wants me. If, through some bizarre freak fate, my boss is left out of the Cabinet in the upcoming reshuffle, I'll be jobless even before I can say "what the....".

Incidentally, a friend, also a Ministerial aide, who was instrumental in getting me this job, quit recently. One day, he is chauffeured-driven with hordes of opportunists swooning over him, and the next, he is just a regular Joe having to drive his own kids to school.

But in some perverse ways, I look forward to the day when I am no longer in this circle. Besides the end to the hectic-crazy lifestyle, I want to know who my true friends are, or if I have any at all.

But then again, I would have to think of a new name for my blog.

Health check, reality-check

Yesterday, I was with boss at a health-screening programme at his constituency. He was invited to officiate at the event, which was, well, what you can expect from such functions. There were kiosks for visitors to check their blood pressure, health information booths and even a place where dental checks were done. I also noticed some doctors on standby dispensing advice. True to being a bersama rakyat programme, everything was free.

The official opening even had clown act to keep the kids entertained and silat performances. Children could also take part in a colouring contest. The response was rather good. I mean who wouldn't want to get a free health-check - rudimentary as it may be - and a chance to beramah mesra?

After my job was done, I headed for my car, ready for my next assignment, hoping to reach the venue before the boss did. As I was crossing a road, a car drove past me and stopped. The aunty driver, who must be in her 40s and sporting a huge white hat, wound down her window.

"Is this the place where you get your blood pressure examined?" she asked in Cantonese, pointing to the tents set up for the function. Her tone was rather anxious and she couldn't seem to care that she could be blocking traffic flow.

"Errr... yes, it is," I responded and must be subconsciously looking at my watch, hoping she could sense I was already running late.

"Crazy woman!" she said with huge relief. And before the irony sank in on me, she went on to explain: "One woman just now told me that this is where the elderly get their blood pressure checked. After that, they will chip in money for their own funeral expenses when they die."

"No, no, it's not," was all I could summon, still in a daze and before I knew it, she had sped off.

Ah... just another day of fire-fighting (of a different kind!) and a better understanding of the depth of human gullibility.

Umno General Assembly

Yesterday, I dropped by PWTC where the Umno general asembly is being held. The boss was there for the opening, but he wasn't the main reason I was there.

I was there primarily to touch base. Met soooooo many friends, especially journalists. Practically, the who's who in the media fraternity was at THE political event of the year (ok, doesn't mean journos who were not covering were nobodys!).

Yesterday was my first time attending the event as a non-journo, and in some strange ways like in the past, had mixed feelings about the - for lack of better word - "carnival". I miss the adrenaline-rush, especially this being an election year. But the cigarette smoke chokes me all the same. Thank god, I did not stay long enough to listen to speeches littered with racial slurs. Oh yeah, the traffic jam leading to the country's inner sanctum of Power and the quest for a parking bay affect journos and non-journos alike.

Still, it was still a good trip. A good two-hour or so with good company. Thank god for that.

Parliamen-tree Dislikes

Here are some top reasons why I dread Parliament sessions (in random order):

• I have no idea whether I need to be in the House until the very last minute because some smart alec decided that the Order Papers for the following day is only ready after 5pm.


• If I need to be there, I have to wake up extra early to beat the jam, especially now that the whole world is using the Besraya highway which has stopped collecting toll at Salak Jaya, which ought to be a good thing, but somehow, on days I need to make official trips to the Parliament, it is not.


• I need to tug my laptop back home more frequently, given the boss' uncertain schedule when the August House meets.


• I need to help scrutinise some sleep-inducing papers (eg MP's queries on the Ministry's plans to expand airports in places you never quite knew airports existed).


• On certain days you never know what time you get to leave. For example, during the winding up on the mini Budget, the team waited for hours for the Ministry's turn. But surprises, surprises, we did not make it because the day's session had to end at 10.30pm. Did I say 10.30pm?


• The food sucks in Parliament.


• I blog less when there is sitting (that may be quite obvious).

The Lower House meets for an extra three days next week. Phew, the end is near.

Senate, which sits the following week, should be more bearable I hope.

Plastic Impression

Occasionally, my job requires me to network and to stay in touch with contacts, usually over a meal or just coffee. It's one of those things I rather enjoy doing especially with contacts who click.

When it's my turn to get the bill, I often pay using my credit card. Not because the amount is so huge (usually not!), but simply because I enjoy the convenience of plastic. The thing is I have been using a particular bank's classic card for close to a decade now and enjoy seeing the points pile up over the years.

For some time now, my wife has asked me to ditch the classic card, if only because "even the messenger in my office uses a gold card". Yes, apparently stiff competition between banks made it very easy for just about anyone to own a gold card these days. Many are either not aware, or like me, not too bothered.

But of late, I have become more conscious of her point. Working for a public figure makes me more image-conscious. In the course of my work, I also have to deal with characters who treat those who put on elegantly-matched cufflinks a world of a difference from those who sport a RM12.90 tie from Carrefour. And classic credit cards? Let's not even get there...

Well, actually I did apply to upgrade to a gold card years ago. I was rejected because my wife works in that bank which issued the card. Under Banking and Financial Institutions Act (Bafia), I am not even allowed to own any credit card from the said lender. (I have no idea why the bank still allows me to keep the card though.)

Over the years, I have linked many accounts to the card for bill-settlement purposes, from insurance premiums to mobile phone charges to charity sponsorships. Cancelling the card means I have to re-apply to link these accounts to the new card, which I find to be quite a chore.

Well, I actually do have a gold card from another bank, applied many years ago (for the free gift!). But I hardly use it because settling the bill was a hassle; either I send them a cheque or queue up to pay (although later, Internet banking enabled inter-bank settlement, which came with a fee).

Anyway, I still enjoy seeing my points grow from the card I have used all this while and enjoy the convenience of settling the bill via Internet banking service provided by the same bank which my salary is credited into.

So far, I am still sticking with my "old (card) is gold" maxim. I am too lazy to apply for a new card and have even turned down an offer from wife to be her supplementary card holder. As for those pretentious snots who judge a person by the colour of their cards, I guess for now, carrying more cash with me ought to do the job.

Why the BN was screwed in 308...

And will continue to be if something's not done about it.

I loathe to blog about politics and since I started, I have vowed to stay clear of that topic whenever possible. But a casual conversation during a recent CNY open house annoyed me enough to pen this.

Over some roasted lamb and beer (teh tarik for me), the topic about party-hopping and the developments in Perak cropped up, naturally. Everyone in the table seemed to agree that while the change of government in the silver state may halt the PR's momentum, there is a lot of public resentment towards the BN following the defection drama.

But one smart alec, who's intricately-linked to the present administration offered his two-cents: "Come the next general election, BN will do well. Malaysians have a very short memory."

That kind of attitude, ladies and gentlemen, explains 308. And will be the cause of BN's downfall if left unchecked.

A brush with the "rival" (not mine)... (2)

The MP and State assemblyman for the area where I live hosted a CNY open-house the other nite. There were posters and banners put up around the housing estate days before the event, held in a community centre.

I went there with the family, chiefly because my eldest loves to watch the lion dance. The turnout was pretty good, although I sensed some disappointment from the crowd who had to wait quite a bit before food was finally served.

I didn't feel out of place although the two wakil rakyat came from the other side of the political fence as that of my boss. After all, I wasn't there in my official capacity. Heck, I am not even a member of any political parties. I was there as a registered voter in the taman and for the fun of it.

Well, ok, if I did feel a bit uncomfortable, it was because I wasn't quite dressed for the occasion. Dressed in tees and shorts, I could see quite a number took the effort to look as if they were going for some wedding dinner reception.

The aunty selling drinks near the low-cost flats had shed her regular tees and jeans for what appeared to be office attire. The party workers wore a corsage as if it were some badge of honour. I was quite surprised to see the hardware shop owner pinned with one. I thought I had seen him in a Rela outfit before. But I knew my newspaperman had always been a party activist even before he inserted propaganda-laced free calendars last year with the dailies he delivered. He was dressed in batik.

Well, that was my first time attending a CNY do for my housing area and I must say it was quite fun, although we were there only for a short while and did not have a chance to savour the food. Would go there again, if they still have it next year. My kids collected ang pow from the assemblyman. Am sure they look forward to doing the same next year. And oh yeah, for the lion dance too.

A brush with the "rival" (not mine) ... (1)

A couple of nights ago, I attended an informal get-together dinner. My boss was there and so were his party comrades and lots and lots of people from the press. Dinner was served buffet-style and there was no fixed seating arrangements, to allow guests to mingle more freely.

I arrived early and was seated with two friends. And there I was, sinking my teeth into the satay when a party leader came from behind and sat down in the same table. He was, in the public's eyes, a rival to my boss in the party.

I wasn't sure if he knew I was seated in the table before he took his seat, but I nevertheless greeted him with a "hi" and even smiled. He responded the same.

Although I knew him even before joining my present boss, I felt a bit awkward striking a conversation with the man. I continued the discussion with my friend seated next to me. If there was any uneasiness in the table, I didn't think anyone felt it.

At one point, the leader asked a mutual friend seated with us why he was eating so little. The friend said he would get more helpings later and I took the opportunity to chip in: "He needs time to warm-up." That must be the closest to me and him having a conversation that night.

All in, I guess it must have been 10- 15 minutes since the politician sat down before I excused myself and mingled with those from other tables. Given the nature of the dinner, I guess the duration was fairly acceptable. After all, we were supposed to move from table-to-table and hobnob.

I did not stand up and walked away immediately after he took his seat. It never crossed my mind to do so and it was absolutely unnecessary. In fact, I must say we both conducted ourselves fairly well.

Brain Vs Heart

Very often, when you start working for the government you are accused of having turned to the Dark Side. You are branded as an accomplice in concealing the truth, a spin doctor out to distort facts and partake in mass deception to prop up evil dictators.

I get that sometimes, although often in veiled forms, hardly in-your-face. And I take it in my stride and regard it as part of the occupational hazards.

But one thing I have learnt on the job is that Malaysians are still very much emotional-driven. The depth of such inclination is something I have underestimated before taking up my present post.

We (yours truly included) tend to cast aside hard facts in favour of our preconceived notions, which we have formed over the years. We tend to see shadows when none exists. We regard rationale explanations as further attempts to keep the lid on excesses and wrongdoings that exist only in our imaginations.

Before I am accused of coming to the defence of anyone, least of all the government, let me just clarify that this posting is not about whether anyone has done anything wrong. Let's face it: the government has made many blunders in the past, some more grievous than others.

This posting is about our tendency to look beyond facts and hold on to our beliefs, some which we are willing to die for. We can be like kids who hold on to their security blankets while ignoring their parents' assurances that the bogeyman from under the beds exists only in their minds.

For example when certain leaders say that the Chinese voters in Kuala Terengganu appear to have backed a particular party during the recent by-election there, some rubbish it by saying that Bandar, the state seat in the Parliamentary constituency with the most Chinese, saw more voters backing the opponent.

To them, saying the Chinese back this particular party doesn't quite fit into their preconceived notion that the non-Malays are an angry lot out to vent their frustration at the Federal government.

Just for the record, Bandar has about 60 per cent Malay voters and only a few polling stations are Chinese-majority, where it is possible to gauge voter preference according to race.

Similarly, those who trumpet about getting the Chinese support in KT tend to ignore the fact that the young voters have largely voted for the opposition, as results according to voting streams indicate. To these people, this trend doesn't quite agree with their beliefs, for reasons too lengthy to discuss here.

This is not a forum to dissect the results of a by-election. This is a posting about how infinitely difficult it is to change peoples' beliefs even if the facts are all laid out bare. It also reflects just how mighty the human heart is over the nimble brains.

This makes my job all the more difficult. OK, enough said. One of my next postings will be on managing public perception.

"Free" newspapers

With Chinese New Year approaching, I am once again reminded of, err... the newspapers I get at home. OK, here's the thing, the last time my vendor came to collect money from me was around CNY 2008.

Don't ask me why. I have reminded him time and again to come and collect the payments as it had accumulated to quite a bit over the months. My entire working life has revolved around newspapers. Before my present job, my newspaper bills came up to about RM120 per month. Now, it is less as my office's newspaper are delivered to my home over the weekends and public holidays.

Some simple number-crunching suggests that I owe the vendor close to RM1,000 - and growing. With each reminder, he promised to come and collect "in a few days' time". But he never showed up. One part of me hopes he will come so that I can forget about the debts I accumulated through no fault of mine. Another part says, heck no, as it already involves a rather hefty amount now.

I mean, it's not like I have been a bad paymaster. In fact, I was the one who kept bugging the man to come and get his dues.

Before anyone start asking for his name and contact number, I can only make a wild guess over why the newspaper man is so "generous" with me. Up to May 2007, I was working in another daily where I received free copies of the newspaper.

While I did officially inform my then employer to terminate my complimentary copies before I quit, the company probably did not do so. Some of my ex-colleagues who also left the paper were still receiving free copies years after they quit. That means to say, my vendor could have been charging me for newspapers he got for free between May 2007 to CNY 2008. And since I now don't get any newspapers from him on weekends, he could have even taken "my" copies and sold it!

Well, it's just a thought, a possibility to explain a behaviour that defies basic business conventions. Maybe he IS a generous man after all.

I guess the only way for me to find out is to change my newspaper subscription to that of another daily.

Aide's Nightmare

This is just a short posting. As an aide who come into close contact with journalists, it is part of my job to help them understand issues better. It helps if journalists do some homework, of course. Most of them do. But here are but three queries from reporters that send chills down your spine and makes you break out in cold sweat, not knowing what kind of reports will appear in the papers tomorrow:

 

1) "What is PKFZ?"

 

2) "Besok mesyuarat Kabinet ada bincang pasal Menteri baru ya?"

 

3) "Oh... Labu Airport. Not Labuan Airport? What Labu Airport?"

Please Buckle Up!

No, this is not a government propaganda. True, my office has been trying to promote the use of rear seat belts in passenger cars. But somehow, people do not seem to get the message or are still confused. I must thank one of my favourite bloggers, 3540 Jalan Sudin, for helping to raise some awareness Anyway, here are some plain facts:

• Car manufacturers, through the government's intervention, are retrofitting the seat belts for free for vehicles registered after 1995. What more do you want? A discount?


• Advocacy has started six months before implementation on Jan 1, 2009. So only those who do not read the papers and have not seen the advertising blitz (on billboards, tv, etc.) over the past half-a-year, can claim ignorance.


• There was a two-week saman olok-olok period just before Jan 1.


• The 4th passenger at the back need not buckle up. Of course, unless the urbane middle-class feel we should emulate advanced nations and implement the law thoroughly. And get the poor chaps who load 4-5 kids behind a Kancil or Kelisa to switch to an MPV. (By the way, over 90% of passenger cars on the roads have 3 or less passengers behind. I mean, who wants to be cramped behind a Kancil travelling from Hulu Langat to Tapah?)


• Offendors will be slapped with a maximum RM300 fine until middle of this year. After that only the penalties will be increased. That is giving chance what...


• The penalties are too stiff. Totally agree. Medical fees and funeral arrangements shouldn't come up to that much, really.

Ok, this IS a propaganda piece. But if it can save lives, so be it.

Liar liar

Honestly, lying is a prerequisite in my job. And truth be told, it is not something I am ashamed of or lose sleep over. No, I don't tell downright, damning lies. When I do breach the Eighth Commandment, it is what parents refer to as "white lies".

Very often, I feign ignorance and I do so for two reasons. Firstly, there are sensitivities to be observed, especially when plans and ideas have not come into fruition. Secondly, I am bound by the law to observe secrecy in certain matters.

Now, don't get me wrong. I am not privy to lots of information, much less highly-classified state secrets. And those who know my boss understands that he doesn't unload easily, even if you work for him.

I also dispense half-truths if it can make somebody feel better, especially in dealing with Michael Chong-type complaints. (Better not go into the specifics here.)

Over the past few months, I have honed my skills trying to protect the boss' interests (ok, that sounds better than "lying"). Trying to act natural when you are not telling the whole truth is, honestly, easier said than done.

Body-language experts say poor liars tend not to blink and often look away. But you can't purposely blink or stare at someone just because you have something to hide!

One important thing I have learnt about the art of lying: the less said, the better. It is based on a simple premise that you won't be using one lie to cover another until you have a mountain of lies that you can't hide.

Now, that is reason enough to keep this posting short...