04/02/2024
A day filled with fun at Pertubuhan Kebajikan Kesayangan Maha, Jenjarom
On the 31st of January 2024, 30 Diploma students from the Faculty of Pharmacy & Biomedical Science made their way to Pertubuhan Kebajikan Kesayangan Maha in Jenjarom. Before the students could even embark on their journey, they found themselves facing unexpected delays. Unlike the extremely punctual Shinkansen that travelers in Japan are accustomed to, these delays were caused by reasons like I quote “We needed to change pants” or “Can we get some breakfast first?”. The students were in high spirits as we finally departed to our destination only to be thwarted by a conundrum that you’d expect to encounter in the heart of Kuala Lumpur, not in the suburbs of Jenjarom, the scarcity of parkingspaces!. The students messaged each other on WhatsApp probably seeking solidarity to justify the decision to park illegally by the roadside, as they look for social reinforcements that their actions were acceptable in the given circumstances.
As the students enter the orphanage, there was a tremendous air of uncertainty and apprehensiveness in the air. This was probably a social situation that they have never put themselves in, they were forced to interact with not just those who were not their age, race, or social class, but they had to socialise and emphatise to those who don’t look nor sound like them. As I arrived onto the scene, I saw groups huddled together, looking around with skepticism as they try to process this situation which was not just awkward but demanded every bit of social skill which they never had the chance to exercise. As the ringleader, I had to initiate some semblance of comfort in the current social setting and proceeded with the oldest trick in the book, by starting up small conversations. I dutifully remarked how diligent a young lady was mopping the floor in a sunlight filled cozy kitchen which I could’ve sworn was a scene from Hans Andersen’s fairy tale. I also poked fun at some of the students to which I accused them of never have done a modicum of the housework in their own homes to which they redirected the accusations towards me. None of us denied the accusations.
After a certain cloud of uncertainty has lifted, we talked to the caretaker of the home, and she was excited to have us. Enthusiastically she called the older children and instructed them to marshal the younger ones to the porch of the house. Immediately 15 or more so pair of feet immediately ran outside with joy and happiness. As I sat there observing, I couldn’t shake off the feeling over how happy they looked, and I can’t help reflecting over my own unhappiness. As I am typing this in my barely air-conditioned room late on a Friday evening, I think I know precisely why. Okay, back to the story. As my Indian students started to initiate the first round of activity, I felt that some of the student still feels apprehensive and they didn’t want to volunteer for the first activity. Therefore, to encourage participation, I just volunteered in the first activity and went along with it. Even with not understanding a lick of Tamil, I enjoyed the activity and gradually those who were not participating saw the fun that we had, joined in the consecutive games. As the games progressed, I couldn’t help but feel the bubbles have now truly burst. The students were getting more comfortable with residence of the home, and although, language was a barrier, a more universal language was understood, companionship and laughter.
We had tons of fun and laughter for 3 hours before we ran out of energy and games to play. As the children’s stomach rumbled, and the activities has ended, the students had lunch. When the children saw that we didn’t have any food with us, they insisted for us to have lunch with them. Sometimes I wonder, how could someone with so little be prepared to share the little they had with us, literal strangers. Seeing that we refused to eat with them, one of the children offered to feed our students with their own hands, leaving our students in tears at this small gesture made by an abnormally large heart. As the lull of post-lunch drowsiness seemed to grip the children, we made our excuses to leave. My excuse is legitimate as I promised Professor Zoriah,
I will be back at the faculty by 2.30 and my own stomach was grumbling at this point. We exchanged pleasantries and promised to visit next time. The caretaker told me that they are looking for teachers that can help and teach the students in their spare time. I gave her a warm smile and exchanged phone numbers; I promised her we will see what the faculty can do. As we left the compound of the house, I remembered that I left my mom’s mat that we used for the game. I sheepishly made my way back and got my mom’s mat. We smiled and finally said our goodbyes. Our students were tired at the end with morale slightly deflated as they rushed to leave for their own meals. I don’t really blame them, as it has been a day whereby their social skills have been stretched to its capabilities. The students in my car asked me out for lunch to which I agreed, and I let them choose the songs to be played in the radio on my way back. It is slightly reassuring that we share the same musical taste, and we know the same music. By the end of the day, I couldn’t help but feel a terrible exhaustion from the weight of coordinating the students and the project. However, as I was driving on the way back, with the experience fresh in my mind, I couldn’t help but ponder about my own privileges and experience in my life, and as my students in the car were excited to finally go on their holiday, I can’t help but think that life is unfair sometimes.
Danish.
