The World of Tai Tai

A Merry Christmas to all the visitors to my blog. Best wishes for what's left of 2013, and the coming new year.  

"Our perfect companions never have fewer than four feet." - Collette  

Rachel is my niece.  She is the apple of everyone's eye in my family.

Uncle Ah Cho gave my brother's family a surprise visit yesterday.  They had a good time dining al fresco in China Town.

How I wish I could swim a four-beat crawl across the pool like a professional swimmer.

Snowflakes are kisses from heaven. - Anonymous

"I wonder if the snow LOVES the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says, 'Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.'" - Lewis Carroll, "Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There"

He is Tareeq, a student I taught last year.  He is now studying in a vocational school. I once told him that I would write a story about him and he blushed feverishly.  "I want to be a successful cook," was what he told me during a PLBS test.  I can still remember how resolute he looked at that very moment.   During an extra class one afternoon, he came up to my desk and asked me, "Mr. Lo, can you solve my problem? I am at a loss on how to fill my scholarship application form." "What is your problem?" I asked. "My father remarried two weeks ago and I now have two mothers," he said, scratching his head. "Which mother's name should I fill?" Gasping inwardly, I said "Just fill your biological mother's name." "But my father wanted me to fill his new wife's name," he said, quite crestfallen. I did not know how to reply him.  After a moment's silence, I said, "Just do what your heart d...

Besides the sambal, we also had braised pork with yam.  The dish, punctuated with hints of five-spice powder and fermented bean curd, has stood the test of time as our top favourite.

Mama made my favourite dried anchovy sambal this evening.  Its spiciness grows on everyone in my family.

No, it’s not attention. For the most part difficult students are given far too much attention. Learning how to spend less time on difficult students will do both you and them an ocean of good. In fact, it’s among the critical first steps to restoring their dignity and common pride in being a regular, contributing member of your classroom. No, what your most challenging students need most is your honest feedback . They need you to tell them the truth about their successes and failures. They need you to look them in the eye with compassion and tell them like it is—warts and all. Most difficult students are subjected to a baffling combination of false praise and angry criticism. Teachers volley between the two like Federer and Nadal. And neither provides the feedback these students need to understand how they’re really doing. So they flounder about, misinformed, pinning their future on an inaccurate picture of what it takes to succeed in school and the wider wor...

I am overwhelmed by remorse-fulness.  I regret breaking the cup and scolding my sister with harsh words.

I came to Papa's house happily for dinner and ended up returning home full of anger. My sister, Ah Hui, kept complaining about  my youngest brother's Dominic's rude attitude.  When I told her that he was rude to me too,  she did not believe a single thing I said, thinking that I was making up a story.  I flew into a rage and broke a cup.  I left without taking dinner.

I lost my camera charger in August last year and as a result, its battery became flat and I could not use my camera to take pictures.  It was not a big deal to me and I did not make an effort to search for it.  However, my recent plan to take the pictures of my cooking endeavors compelled me to get a new charger at 10.30 this morning. The charger, not an original one, cost me RM70 plus a USB plug. Excitedly, I went home and tried out the charger.  After charging the camera battery for two hours,  I inserted it back to the camera.  I pressed the 'power' button but the lens did not emerge from the camera. Frustrated, I attempted to recharge the battery but the charger indicated that it had been fully charged. "Damn it," I said in frustration. "I will return to the shop and ask the shopkeeper to give me a more competent charger." I put the new charger back into its plastic case and hurled myself on my bed.  With my heart feeling anxious about the camera,...

I have a strange feeling that many colleagues are looking down on me.  My class management is atrocious and each time a teacher passes by my class, he or she will cast me a look of disapproval.  I have been trying to rebuild my image but my students frequently dampen my spirit with their total disregard of my presence.  I feel like a complete failure.  At school, a teacher has no dignity if he or she gets  over-ridden by students all the time.  Whatever he or she does is subjected to the gauntlet of criticism and censure.

I made the above-mentioned cake with the help of mom. Ingredients: 4 eggs 120g sugar Pork floss 1 tbsp dark soy sauce 130g flour 1 tsp baking powder 2 tbsp corn oil Method: 1. beat eggs and sugar till light and fluffy 2. Combine flour and baking powder.  Gradually fold in the mixture into the batter. 3. Add soy sauce and oil. 4. Pour half of the batter into a cake tin and steam over high heat for 15 minutes. 5.  After 15 minutes, add the desired amount of pork floss onto the cake. 6. Cover the cake with the remaining batter and steam for another 15 minutes.

No, not every day, and not even every week. You need your lunch break to get away from teaching, if only for a few minutes. You need the time to take a breather, prep your classroom, or think ahead to the afternoon. You need time to discuss your favorite TV show with a colleague or listen to Pandora in peace. After all, it’s your time, and it should remain that way. But occasionally, maybe once or twice a month, it pays to eat lunch with your students. It pays to go where they go, to sit down in the lunch room right smack dab in their midst. It pays to surprise your students with the words, “Mind if I join you?” Here’s why. It’s an effortless way to build rapport. Building rapport is a key cornerstone of effective classroom management. It’s also an area that is commonly misunderstood. Most teachers are too forward, too familiar, and too forceful in their attempts to build report, which weakens rather than strengthens the relationship. Genuine, behavior-inf...

On 19th November 2012, I visited Sabah and joined a local tour on a trip to Kinabalu Park, a world heritage site that boasts the famous canopy walk and the Poring Hot Springs.   The drive up the park took nearly three hours. The undulating road wound around the Crocker Range like a coiling serpent. The higher we went, the wider expanse of emerald vegetation spread before us. Layer after layer of mountains rose like waves, becoming one with the sky in the distance. My companions were a female Kadazan tour guide and a four-member British family. With their humorous banter, they made the bumpy ride an enjoyable one. When we reached the park, I was blown away by its beauty. It was surrounded by mountains in varying hues of green. The sight offered me a welcome respite from the concrete forest in which I lived. To go to the point where the canopy walk began, we had to hike a slope. Its steepness took a toll on my overweight body. I fell behind my companions, unable to keep...

Today is Mooncake Festival.  As usual, I celebrate it with Papa and Ah Hui in a low key manner.  We have a simple dinner of one dish and one soup.  The steamed chicken that Papa cooked is a little raw and he asks Ah Hui to blanch it in the soup to make it more cooked.  We eat the succulent chicken with relish.  The soup complements the chicken well.  Each of us has at least two bowls of it. We do not eat moon cakes as dessert after dinner.  The moon cakes sold in the market are too sweet for our liking.  We do not light lanterns too.  We find it satisfying enough to celebrate the festival in the presence of one another.  I wonder how Weng Weng, my younger brother, celebrates the festival with his wife and daughter.  I have a hunch that they are now celebrating it with fun and merriment. Mama is alone in Seria at the moment.  Has she had her dinner?  Does her best friend Ah How celebrate the festival with her tonight?...

“Who are you?” Grandma asked for the 100 th time. Everyone in the room heaved a sigh of despair. Everyone, except Grandpa. It was about two years ago when Grandma met with an accident. Actually, we all did, daddy, mummy and I. But Grandma was the only one who got injured. Before the accident happened she had been complaining about her seat belt. Her exact words were: “It squeezes everything on me.” We all groaned and begged her to say no more. It turned into a joke and we were all laughing together. We let her unbuckle her seat belt and didn’t think much about it. Daddy was a very careful driver and it was bright daylight so the chances of encountering accidents were almost none. We were on our way back home from church when the car in front of us slowed down for no apparent reason. Daddy was about to press the honk when suddenly, a car from behind sped right into our bumper. Our seat belts tugged and held us back. But poor Grandma’s head knocked onto the headrest of the fr...

“Who are you?” I asked the stranger who had suddenly approached me. “Why does he seem so familiar?” I asked myself. That stranger, that old man. I saw something in his eyes. His vulnerability. Why does he seem so sad? That strange man came up to me while I was having coffee and he left me an envelope.   My birthday was today and I assumed that it was a prank from some of my friends.   I decided to ignore it but curiosity compelled me to open it. I pulled out the contents and was bewildered. What are these photos? Who are these babies? They looked so familiar. In each picture was a pair of twins, not the same gender but the same facial features. The date on each picture was exactly the same as my birthday date. Do I know these people? So here’s the thing, I came from a broken family. I remembered vividly that my parents had always been quarrelling. I was so young when they divorced. I was not able to understand anything. Their shouting made me shudder under my blanket....