1. Leaving Kuching

We had gone to Kuching in 1953 when I was seven years old. Dad had been offered a job as the Chief Engineer in Radio Sarawak. We had all been very excited even though we knew that Kuching was so much a smaller place than Singapore. It didn't matter to us.

Mum, Dad and I had been busy packing for the last few weeks. My brother was already back in Singapore as he was starting his University. I still couldn't believe that we were actually leaving! I thought to myself... how can I do it? How can I leave all my friends? All the wonderful times we had together - picnics, movies, bike riding, badminton, spending hours at the library, having fun just listening to records - my eyes became misty and I started to cry.

Then the phone rang. It was David reminding me of the farewell party. I looked at my watch - two hours before the party! I felt so sad! How can I face everyone at the party? It's impossible! I went to lie on my bed and couldn't stop crying. Then I realized that no matter how I felt, I had to go especially after all the trouble everyone had gone through to make the party a success. I climbed out of bed and started to get ready. I looked in the mirror - oh boy! I looked terrible, just like death warmed up!

It was 6.30pm when David arrived and after saying goodnight to Mum and Dad, we drove off in his convertible Morris Minor car. It was a very warm starry night, and the stars looked like thousands of eyes looking down, sadly at me. I had to control my emotions!

I remember when we first arrived in Kuching. The place was really more like a village. There was only one little cinema. The house where we lived was on stilts because of the common occurrence of flood. There were a dozen houses in this street including ours... which we were told was haunted! It didn't frighten us at all.

For public transport, there was only this little bus which seated 16 people. The entrance was at the back and the seating was on the side like an Army Troop Carrier. There was no special bus stop. It would just go from street to street and picking up passengers from the front gate of their house.

We then drove into the driveway of David's house. There were balloons everywhere and the song "Blue Hawaii" by Elvis Presley could be heard playing... my favourite song! The car stopped and I turned to David to say something but the words just wouldn't come out. He could see I was misty-eyed and on the verge of crying so he put his arms around me and tried to comfort me. I knew it was not doing any good but I had to take a hold of myself but found it extremely difficult to hide my feelings. I had never been one for doing that, anyway. Dad had told us, always be honest, speak your mind and never hide your feelings. There is nothing wrong showing your feelings, he would say.

By now most of my friends had gathered outside. I was overwhelmed. We went inside... everything was laid out so beautifully. The delicious food on one table and on the other table all the neatly wrapped gifts! My emotions were running high... I just couldn't stand it any longer! I ran out to the garden and burst into tears. I realized that I shouldn't have done that. I was thinking what I should do when I felt a comforting hand on my shoulder. I turned and saw Lionel standing there. He took my hand and we went to sit on one of the garden chairs. I told him how embarrassed I was for what I did. He reminded me that these were all my friends and they were feeling the same way as I did except that they were in a group whereas I was on my own. How very true! Lionel then put his arms around me and I laid there until I regained my composure to go inside again.

I had been seven years old when Dad got the job offer and now at the age of seventeen I was leaving all my friends! I did all my education here in Kuching in St. Mary's School, affiliated with the Church of England. It was a great school and I enjoyed every minute of my days there! But I can still remember this one teacher who kept picking on me. She was my Arts and Crafts teacher. I'm always very particular in whatever I do and I want everything to be perfect. She was annoyed with that because it made her daughter's work inferior (her daughter was in the same class) and she would accuse me of being very slow in doing my work and therefore would mark me down each time. Accidentally, one of the teachers overheard her conversation over the phone and went to the Principal with that information. She was asked to explain and she admitted everything. She was told to leave.