Adventurous Calvin ventured into an adventure of delays and of KTM delays... Having an English class of length five hours and carrying two acoustic guitars as dumbels to college was already tiring. What more time was ticking away as Mr Jason, CF President whom I'm supposed to pass the CF guitar just woke up and uncontactable and had to rang up his bell till his rugged hairs are in front of me... And in contacting him, I called the wrong Jason but thank God I managed to ask this Jason to pray for me who was growing impatient by seconds.
And guess what happened in One Utama Bus Station? Delay again, but God sent friends to accompany me there, my dear housemates Indra and Hanif. The packed bus moved with the slowest velocity attainable, v = 0 m s-1... and it took more than one hour to reach KL Sentral. Then, at KL Sentral I waited for the train towards the direction of Seremban. I waited not long, but then it was so packed that all the kiasuism showed out. No one, not even one, allowed this miserable and thin creature who occupies not much space to go through the doors. And there was this reasonably huge guy smiling and waving me away...WALAU-eh. The guards backed me off and off goes those fully loaded train and leaving me behind. It really felt like being left behind and I wonder what God is doing... Hungry and tired, there I stand waited for another ten minutes while Justina, James and Joanne were anxiously waiting in Midvalley station...
Finally, the train came and I wasted no time and squeezed my way in and was forced to the end of the carriage with that huge backpack of mine. In a matter of moments, the train reached Midvalley. Justina, James and Joanne came in but at the other end. I desperately wanted to see them and pray, but what could I do but continue to stand and wave while Justina was finding where my head was thanks to the low windows in KTM...
I stood firm all the way, sweating all through, a walking waterfall with sounds of hydrochloric acid churned in the empty stomach pool. It was until UKM station did I managed to get a sit and people you know how long I stood. Securing the seat, I took out the NECF The Lord Revives prayer book and started praying. For the past week, I fasted and prayed for this mission trip, but under very comfortable conditions. And now, I'm really out of my comfort zone and experiencing that temptation to eat. That's really puasa... However, that text on the page strucked me again on the focus of my mission.
Socio-economic justice [Isaiah 1:16,17; 56:1, 2; 59:15b-20]
- Children to be brought up in the spirit of love, peace, dignity, equality and respect; in security and care.
- All citizens to enjoy economic rights with equality regardless of race, age, religion and gender.
- Protection from economic and social exploitation (especially the minority poor among the Orang Asli community in the Peninsula, and the natives in Sabah and Sarawak)
- Respect for human rights and strengthening of fundamental freedom: Equal opportunity for all to pursue higher education and freedom to choose a religion and to worship.
- Christians to boldly and wisely speak out against all forms of injustice and shine the light of Christ in advocating justice
- Those who are oppressed will see that God is the source of salvation and light.
I have been so impatient all this while that I lost my focus of my mission. Mission is not something to relieve stress or to express stress, but to endure through all things to reach out to those who need it. God was actually moulding me just now... What is all these compared to need that of a PMR student who is desperate to pass PMR and go into Form 4 and to be able to live a life? That's me, I can't even take a simple hardship and started to blame on public transport...
Ever grateful and back into being patient, God tested again. Vincent who texted me "Lol, getting later and later [the arrival time]. See you" came later. Under sweltering heat of Nilai, which is close to Malaysia's driest place Kuala Pilah plus the Joanne Jun Lee SUN SUN there... there were three suns!!!... I WAS MELTING like the 7 Eleven green monster slime thingy James bought. Still bearable and everything became cheerful with the familiar sight of Nilai GC Sunday School van. Off we head towards Haganesh's house...
We were greeted with warm welcomes from Haganesh and his mother, but this PMR fella looks really tensioned despite the smile as he knows it's going to be another mental torture sessions on Mathematics and English. Far from being sadistic, bragging about all our knowledge we are about to impart to him, there was this sense of compassion for him and we decided to boost his spirit up first.
We chit-chatted on how's life and studies and cracked some seriously lame jokes which he had not one faint idea what it meant. To cheer up the environment, we played some ice breaking games but it failed terribly. We have so few people and he doesn't understand any of the "intellectual" games we play which has so many confusing rules spoken by confusing humans like yours truly. I thought I planned everything and God wants to use all our "ingenious" ideas, but we never really thought of this Indian teenager. In the end we ended up playing carrom which Haganesh is quite good at and some others who thought they could play well and as well as some miserable amateurs...
Although quite carrom was not a game I favoured, but among all the games we played it was the best. We got better at it as we learned to play and meanwhile Haganesh was really enjoying himself. I guess mission is not about introducing something new to people which we think will be very interesting, but to use what God has placed in those people. It's not about us, but about reaching to them and many times it is not what we like. The carrom game reminded how we sow seeds but it is God who directs our seeds into the goals. Many times, I aimed wrongly but then God uses this "curse" and turn it into a "blessing" - GOAL - Black seed 5 points!!! And often, we aim too hard and trust on our skills only, it turns out to be an empty shot into the air. Really great communication of faith and God uses only a carrom board...
Finally, the game headed no where as almost all seeds went to Haganesh. So he was rather relaxed and it was time to teach him some lessons. Haha, not to pay revenge or inflict torture on him, but really to help him in his PMR. I requested for the Malaysian Form 3 English Textbook and I thought it was the biggest mistake of all. Those English textbooks are really some irrelevant stuff written by some "great" authors with "great" pedagogy. Struggling to find a passage relevant for learning on those colourfully useless pages, I stumbled on an article on the sea. It was not a good article and I guess whoever wrote this has worse writing skills than mine. The paragraphs don't link at all. Then again, God turned this "cursed" passage into something Haganesh and I were able to talk. It was a wonderful conversation and now I know Haganesh likes Char Siew Fan too!
Haganesh's younger brother - the future Malaysian weightlifter
As time was ticking away, the conversation disturbed me a lot. It was on his studies. He told me on how he hopes to pass PMR and the prerequisite for entering Form 4 is to pass in all subjects. And now with about a month to PMR, he is still struggling to pass. Will he have a future? I was wondering... The passing marks for Mathematics was just 12 but he could only get 10 and his whole class is like that and the teacher is doing nothing. And this amazing school he is in publishes the Trial Examination results ONLINE!!! Walau-eh, my "premier school" also don't have such technology and they expect students like Haganesh's situation to access the computer. Really amazing! And have you heard of teachers who actually borrows reference books which we passed to Haganesh to study? And have you heard Physical Education teachers who forces the students to eat leaves so that they'll be awake for PE class? I never thought such schools exists in Malaysia... Height of uncivilisation...
Felt really pity for Haganesh, but what is pity? Looking down? Not at all. Probably it's the love and care for him. So love drove me to teach this boy to at least pass Mathematics. In previous mission trips attending to Haganesh, my eyes were really wide opened as I realised how much I have taken studies for granted. I always complained why there is a need for bilingual examination paper, pure waste of paper and money! As if I'm so concerned about trees and the poor. This teenager of age fifteen still does not know how to do simple multiplication and division and understand standard English. What a failure is Malaysian education! He actually just need more attention instead of teachers rushing to finish the syllabus and assume every one knows what he or she is teaching. And now I just discovered that he has problems pressing the calculator. Simple arithmetic operations like 9 times 5 requires him to press the two plastic studs in 10 seconds time and still asked me how to find the answer. He doesn't know what to do with the equal sign button! It's just plain sad. How can he pass the Mathematics paper? The first few MCQ maybe he can do, rest of it the algebra and geometry just shoot whereas the first two subjective questions probably can do. Still then, his chances of passing is slim...
I really felt like coming before PMR to teach him how to use the calculator and solve simple questions, but all the assignments coming, I wonder I can do that. Is it worth to sacrifice possibly my exam results so that someone can have a chance to continue to Form 4? All I can do is to pray for a breakthrough... and when Uncle Andrew came, all four of us Wilsonians (That's my mission team name) just sincerely prayed for him and it was really a touching moment for every one.
I know it is kind of sad, but I will prove to you God answers prayers. On the way to the KTM station, Uncle Andrew encouraged us a lot and brought us to visit the new church building of Nilai Gospel Chapel. When we first came to Nilai during our Residential Bible School mission trip, the church seems like desperate for help. There were many families to care for, many Indian children to be helped and a church building receiving opposition. In January, the building was just at its starting, what we saw was just a model and news of funds collected but have no permit to build yet. Typical of most Malaysian churches... however, just in eight months time, it was given CF and on September Nilai Gospel Chapel will have their very own building. God even delivered them from persecution of the neighbourhood and authorities. God still answers prayer...
Encouraged by that, we were going to be discouraged by KTM. Justina needed to be back at Kl Sentral by 8 p.m. so we all rushed to the KTM station. We waited and waited and sat down on the railway embankment sacrificing blood to mosquitoes. It was what James' lame joke described. What will happen to you if you stand behind a car? Get "exhaust"-ed. What will happen if you stand in front of a car? You'll get "tire"-d. It was amazing how five trains towards Seremban pass us by and yet not even one train came from Seremban. The train was delayed from 7:17 to 7:37 and then to 7:57 p.m. Don't tell me Tiroi and Labu stations have A LOT of anthropological creatures!
However, Wilsonians are great at maximising time for fellowship. There was this story shared by Joanne, "One day, Char Siew Pao and Man Tou went to watch movie together. Char Siew Pao cried but Man Tou didn't. Why? Because Char Siew Pao has fillings (feeling) and Man Tou no filling (feeling). Then another day, Char Siew Pao went out for a movie with Tau Sa Pao. Again Char Siew Pao cried. Why? Because they have different fillings (feelings)... =.=" Interesting and time well spent right?
Another incident happened to prove God uses foolishness to shame human wisdom. There was this clever and attentive person who heard the KTM announcer said that trains will come berturut-turut (continuosly) since there was much delay. So we decided to have a relaxing ride back home instead of standing in sardines. Rational right? First train came and it was empty and all the kiasu people rushed in the train and left four emo kids alone. The four thought they were clever but the signboard said next train 8:17 am... 20 MINUTES MORE! Okay, KTM signboards are unrealiable. Indeed it was unrealiable, the train came after 10 minutes of blood donation. The person declared that the others to bow down and worship for they did not trust in him/her and now the impossible had happened. Before he/she can continue with next sentence, a train FULL OF PEOPLE stopped in front of us... so clever....
We still had to squeeze in, not taking anymore chances. We stood all the way to KL Sentral with occasional sittings on the floor. There was even a single chance where we can get a proper seat. Net flow of people into the train = 0. Well, mission doesn't end when it seems to end. Every day, every second you are doing mission for God. It's taking up the cross daily and dying to self. The whole mission trip is a sacrifice of time, money, comfort, effort, sweat and even blood (to mosquitoes). Now I realised how hard must it be for Jesus to complete his mission on this earth and his agony in the Garden of Gethsemane before dying on the cross for the unlovable.
If on the way to KL Sentral was going through the Garden of Gethsemane, Midvalley is the Calvary where the cross is. People are like barbarians or animals trying to squeeze as many people into the train. Push push and push. I was standing virtually on my tiptoes and those toes are stepped on by someone and my hands were forced onto the wall like Cicakman splat on the wall. THAT MUST BE CRUCIFIXTION!!! And thanks to the amazing mass of people on the train and to the train which for no reason moved at snail's pace... it was slow and painful torture.Thank God, there was resurrection and a heaven called KL Sentral where everyone goes down... A day well spent on understanding what is mission : DYING TO SELF...
