Standard 5.... The most striking memory of this year was that my class teacher rode on the same school bus as me. The school bus that plied my home district, then went through town and she lived in a quaint townhouse. Very prettily done up on the outside, I wished I could see inside. I only glimpse I could get beyond her front door was a lamp I could see through the living room window.
She was elderly then, so I am sure she is long gone now, and sadly so is her quaint town house which has slipped into delapidation the last time I went by. So sad because my home town has such a wealth of beautiful old buildings and more and more are lost to modernisation each day. The great social issue currently plaguing many old towns in Malaysia the removal of honours paid to rspected statesman who brought education, modernisation and stable government to the state by renaming roads to characters unknown of in local history. There's new developments coming up all the time and as to why a new development cannot be named after the later historical figures, is beyond me.
Anyway, the single and elegant Ms W wore a Cheongsam everyday to school and she always sat on the front seat in the bus. If I were her age and dressed in a Cheongsam, I would definitely choose to sit in the front of the bus, not at the back with wild hooting children. She was a great English teacher I remember and I always did her proud by scoring well in the language.
That year, yet another classmate got creative and re-invented a story she heard into a comedy sketch. I remember the story being about students in a class-room with a teacher hard of hearing. Or was it hard of understanding? I was once again at stage front (where I always like to be).
Hey, I haven't mentioned that at every school production I was at, my dear parents were always in the audience. They never missed any production I was in as I recall...
