Quick to say sorry

It was Hari Raya Aidilfitri.

After visiting an open house, I happily got into my car and began to drive home. As I was approaching a small junction, I noticed a small car being driven on a road on my left. Naturally, I expected it to stop at the junction and wait for me to pass first before it moved out. But, unbelievably, the motorist continued to drive out of the junction and straight on a collision course with my car.

I swerved violently to the right. Fortunately, there were no other vehicles behind. The near collision scared me out of my wit. After regaining my composure, I saw red. I gave chase and wanted to honk the driver dead.

Then, I noticed the rogue driver stuck his right hand out of the window and gestured “I’m sorry”. He slowed down and allowed me to overtake him. I gave him my most menacing glare. He was a young Malay guy and with him was another young Malay lad. Both of them made eye contact with me and the driver gestured again: “I’m sorry”.

His readiness to say sorry neutralized my anger. He did the right thing. He knew he was wrong and he was quick to say sorry. That is honourable.

Blogging and Fear Factor

Photo credit: www.flowjournal.org

On 03 Oct 2007, I was invited to a talk on Blogosphere & Digital Democracy by David Sasaki, Outreach Director for Global Voices Online, a non-profit media project founded at Harvard Law School’s Berkman Center for Internet and Society.

During the Q&A session, my light bulb lit up when David said that the blogosphere is just another medium of communication. Which means I should not view it with doubt, anxiety or contempt.

I roll into blogosphere not because I happily jump into a bus and get relocated to new neighbourhood (like the ad on Astro). Rather, I'm pushed into blogosphere by the terrifying thought that if I don't do so, I might be considered unfashionable, outdated, ancient, or even a dinosaur.

David Sasaki talked of Fear Factor versus Tipping Point.

This is my view on the fear factor: In the past many years, there has been a great deal of negative coverage on bloggers, their blogs and their commenters. So much so that fear is driven into me that people will use my blog to bash me up or whack somebody else. And, if they can’t bash me up in my blog, they will whack me in their blogs. So, I better not announce myself as a netizen, then nobody knows that I exist.

After listening to David Sasaki, I thought of my bunch of friends who together with me are victims of the fear factor. I guess it’s the fear of receiving negative feedback. Well, what I know is that my buddies and I receive our share of negative feedback - sometimes on a daily basis - but we learn not to freak out. So, why should we freak out in blogosphere?

I visited Tom Peter’s blog and was amazed and amused. Tom Peter is the renowned management guru who sort of revolutionized management thinking more than 20 years ago. He is also the guy who promoted the concept of “Personal Branding” and was voted Second Most Influential Leadership Professional by Leadership Gurus.

After visiting a potpourri of blogs of different taste and aroma, it dawned on me that blogging can be fun. Like what David Sasaki says, “Blogosphere is just another medium of communication”. If I regard myself as a communicator, I cannot but embrace it.

I wish to thank the people at ALL-BLOGS for the invitation. Besides the fascinating talk, I also tucked into the sumptuous buka puasa buffet, and talked to interesting people from local NGOs, British High Commission and American Embassy.

Something from Indonesia brings me tears

I told the agent, “Don’t treat this Indonesian girl like garbage. She’s a human being and she’s somebody’s daughter. She has parents who are worried about her, and are praying that she does not come to any harm.”

That happened a year ago. Ira came from Indonesia to work in Malaysia. Her parents became frantically worried when they did not hear from her for one whole year – not a single phone call or letter. They started to look for her. I was asked to help in this case.

I managed to trace the agent who brought Ira into the country but the agent refused to meet me. Neither did the agent allow me to speak to Ira. Soon after this, Ira’s parents received a letter from her. After my friendly harassment, I was hoping that the agent would treat Ira in a more humane way.

Another year passed. In August this year, Ira called her parents to say that she was all set to go home because her work permit was expiring. The parents waited. August came and went. In September, the worried parents rang the agent who said that all flights to Jakarta were fully booked since August. What? They said they would try to put Ira on the plane in September. September passed. Then, the agent promised to send Ira back on a certain date in October. They did not honour their word.

I was asked to help again. I called the agent and negotiated for Ira’s safe release. My priority was to ensure that she returns home in one piece. Sadly, Ira had to lose half of her hard earned money.

Sometimes, I get depressed asking questions on humanity. Asking why there are people who treat others with cruelty. Asking why they were born without kindness and compassion.

After Ira had reached home, her mother called my mobile phone, “Alhamdulillah, Ira sudah selamat pulang.” She thanked me over and over again.

After the phone call came this sms:
“Trima kasih bantuannya keluarganya dsini, mngucapkan bnyak bnyak trimakasih. Kami brsyukur KEPADA ALLAH, dengan melalui anda ira pulang dengan selamat”

It brought tears to my eyes. I never expected the phone call nor the sms. The family is from a small village in rural Indonesia, and I never imagined that they would go to such lengths to reach me. They do not even have a telephone at home.

The response from Indonesia has put my faith back in humanity.

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A man's flat tyre and a woman's compressor

Gif credit: www.tenor.com

Many years ago, I bought a portable air compressor that pumps air into a flat tyre. 

Once, I drove over a rough road and ended up with TWO flat tyres. I got off my car, pulled out the compressor and set it to work. I relaxed, waited for a few minutes, and soon the tyres had enough air to enable me to drive to the nearest tyre shop. 

On another occasion, I saw a man struggling to remove a flat tyre and sweating buckets under a hot sun. I offered him my compressor, and taught him how to use it. I was in a hurry and could not wait for him to finish, so I told him to return the machine to my office later. 

Back in my office I began to wonder, “Would the man return my compressor? Why did I believe that he would do so? What if he had lost my address?”

I was careless not to have asked for his phone number and address. 

Two days later, lo and behold, I found the compressor sitting in my office! It was delivered with a thank-you note from the man – a real gentleman. 

There, it takes a man's flat tyre and a woman's compressor to reaffirm my faith in humankind. 

A Close Shave

Gif credit: www.reddit.com

It was a hectic day. I drove around town like a crazy woman, almost helping to improve the statistics in road rage.

I was rushing back to the office to call it a day when I felt an ominous sensation. I was approaching a road junction when my foot automatically stepped on the brake pedal. As I slowed down, a car whizzed out of the junction on my left and hurtled towards my direction. It swerved violently when the driver saw my car.

I stopped completely to watch the idiot's antics. I was hoping it would crash into the ditch that was on the other side of the road. Luckily, there were no other cars on that road at that time, otherwise I dread to think of the consequences.

That reckless driver might not want to live another day, but I want to live for another year at least.

Phew! It's a close shave.

Thank My Lucky Stars for the Narrow Escape

Photo credit: www.nst.com.my

I drove up to the tollbooth, handed some money to the collector, got my change and drove through. I counted my change and found I was given an extra MYR 0.50.

Without any hesitation, I stopped my car, got off and walked towards the tollbooth to return the MYR 0.50.

Suddenly, something came crashing down right in front of my face. It's the tollbooth bar!

It missed my nose by a fraction of an inch. Somebody shouted in horror. The driver of the car approaching the tollbooth gasped in horror. I was frozen in horror.

Then, somebody came running and guided me to the side of the booth. If I had walked a little faster, the bar would have hit my head. If it were not my head, it would have been my nose. I could have ended up in hospital with a bloodied and battered nose.

I thank my lucky stars for the narrow escape.