... and sometimes they even find their class again.
Was at the Malay College Old Boys dinner at the Istana Hotel last night - very enjoyable. Thought I'd slip in a couple of pictures, not least because these guys kept saying "Just put the photo on your blog and let us pick it up from there."
Once a Malay College boy, always ... Abu (second from left) with his good friends Rahim, Khalil and Mustapha.
I taught these guys 22 years ago and hadn't seen them since. Funny how all that time just melted away ...
We used to publish a magazine of their creative work, Eureka!, which ran into several issues. It has always hurt that the school never officially recognised us as a society (with a picture in the yearbook and so on - these things are so unnecessarily formal!) and help with funds, as we worked very hard and achieved something very worthwhile.
It was, of course the dynosauric pre-computer days I remember typing up the stories on those duplicating sheets (so long ago can't remember what they were called!) and correcting errors with pink fluid. We photocopied the pages of graphic fiction, before labouriously stapling the whole lot together. And then we sold our efforts class to class, just about breaking even so that we could get cracking on the next edition.
Many of these guys say they read this blog so I hope this post encourages them to lurk no more!
Earlier in the day spent an hour and a half stuck in a traffic jam on Jalan Damansara due to a police roadblock so that anyone who looked like a possible demonstrator could be turned back, I suppose. (Bloody annoying, as well as a total waste of police time.)
The centre of the city was completely closed off, and the rain was torrential. It didn't dampen the spirits of those who were walking to the Istana to demand electoral reform. The official version (buried on page 8 of the Star!) is that around 4,000 turned up. Nonsense!
I would consider myself very non-political. I'm broadly-speaking a lazy socialist who can't be bothered with the details of Malaysian politics. Or British ones for that matter.
But I do know that folks have to take a stand for what they believe to be right, and it takes a lot of guts to do that in the face of water canons and thousands of police. I felt very proud when I read the postings on the internet when I got home from MCOBA jollying in the wee hours.