When a glowing cigarette becomes a puncher

Many interesting things happened in the staffroom when I was serving as a trained teacher. In this post, I will tell readers one of such practice.

Since objective questions have become part of the exam items, teachers have to shade answers on an answer sheet and cut holes on the answers. In so doing, they can place the answer sheet with holes on the answer sheets of pupils. The correct answers will show through the holes and teachers can tick them and count them to get the total marks.

One day, I saw a male teacher smoking and after a while he approached his desk. He took out an answer sheet with answers shaded and started to burn the shaded parts. Soon I could see a sheet of paper with burnt holes all over the answer sheet. He had cleverly turned his half-smoked cigarette into a hole-puncher.

I did not like the look of the jagged holes and so I still used penknife and ruler to do the job of making holes where shaded answers appeared for my marking template.

The Missing 4th Floor.

I took my wife for medical examination in a private hospital. We were told to go to fifth floor to have her blood taken. As we entered the lift, I noticed that 4th floor was missing on the display panel in the lift. I suddenly realised that Penang is predominantly a city where Chinese who speak Hokkien live. The number '4' sounds like 'see' which means 'dead' in the Chinese dialect. Hence it is considered unlucky to be staying in 4th floor - 'si lau', the 'floor where the dead are'. That may explain why the hospital management got rid of 4th floor and replaced it with 5th floor electronically while physically 4th floor still exists.

A Lasting Burning Sensation

Have you ever touched a chilly before? How does it feel? Well, my friend Tan Ching Hong and I had an unforgettable experience with dried chillies.

One day, the lady teachers in my former school (Jerantut Secondary School) suggested having a barbeque at Mrs Cheong's house. All of us agreed to it. However, Miss Tan Lee Nging who proposed it wanted us to share the work of preparing food and ingredients for the grill. The lady teachers took to the task of getting meat and vegetables ready for the occasion while Tan Ching Hong and I were to get rid of seeds from the dried chillies which were soaked in water. At first, we enjoyed doing a simple job like this. Little did we realise we were tricked by the ladies who must have known that it was a nasty job. Sure enough, our hands began to acquire a burning sensation after some time. As we thought that it would go away soon, we didn't complain about it to anyone.

The barbeque party went on smoothly and we helped ourselves to roasted meat of various kinds and some cooked vegetables. As usual, Simon Ching entertained us with his guitar and Anchor Chong had us in stitches with his jokes. We seemed to forget the burning sensation in such a jovial atmosphere.

I still could feel the burning sensation on my hands the next day. Despite having washed repeatedly with water and detergent the effect did not wear off at all. The sensation only left my hand on the fourth day!

From then on, I dare not touch chillies anymore

Readers are warned not to deal with chillies barehanded. Use gloves to prevent the burning sensation as experienced by me.

How My Voice Gave Me Away

This incident happened in Kuala Lumpur when I was there to enquire about my application of transfer to Penang. I was talking to a teacher who was also there for the same purpose. Suddenly I heard the sweet voice of a lady greeting me from behind.

"Hi, Mr Yeoh."

I turned my face and saw a young lady beaming at me. I could not make out whom she was.

"Who are you and how do you know I'm Mr Yeoh?" I asked.

"I am Sarojini. You taught me Science in 1976 when you were in Jerantut, remember?"

Only then did the picture of her form in my mind. She is a Chindian as her mother is a Chinese and her father is an Indian. She used to mix around with Tee Guat Hoon and Wong Yoke Lan when she studied in Form 2 then. When I met her at the Education Department, she had finished her university course and was there to enquire about her posting.

Out of curiosity I asked her why she knew it was me when my back was facing her when she greeted me.

"Your voice, sir. All of us can remember your voice."

Well, my voice had given me away. Let me explain. I have been speaking with a nasalised sound since I began to talk. Initially I did not know the reason until I went to see an ENT specialist regarding the humming sound that I kept hearing in my ear. The doctor examined my ear, nose and throat. It was he who told me that I had a crooked nose ridge. That explains why the nasalised sound is produced whenever I utter something.

Nowadays, whenever I meet my students for the first lesson, I will tell them why I speak with a nasalised sound so that they will not mimic it because they know it is a physical defect of the teacher.

So much for this little episode in my life for today.