First and foremost, I'm gonna clear your doubts. I know the Teacher's Day has passed a few days ago and it's already too late to wish. I just didn't have the time to come here and make up some stories about teachers. Fortunately tonight, I have the chance to write something about Teacher's Day to show my concern(at least). Some more, my college will be celebrating the Teacher's Day this coming Wednesday. I should have applied being in-charged for the ceremony but oh well, I was a little too late. Anyways, the story I'm about to tell is not my story but based on a true story of a friend of mine. He has been telling me this old same story every year. And this is the third time. But still, I enjoy listening to his old story over and over again because of its sentimental value(perhaps). Alright, I'm gonna start and I'll try to mention all the facts as much as I could recall.
I can barely remember the face of this one teacher at my first ever school and I don’t think I ever knew his name. I know, it’s frustrating, but I just couldn’t get myself to recall his (most probably not her, oh yeah my memory at that time was that bad). I was 7, the age where every little Malaysian is obliged to go to school and learn.
It was really a kampung school. There was only one class for each standard, a small office, a small canteen, and other buildings that I could only picturize them in mind, not remembering what were they for. My mom was a teacher there, so we got to stay at one of the houses at teacher’s quarters (These are the houses inside the school, provided for teachers. It sounds big, but there were actually only two houses. I don’t think I remember who were my neighbour back then either).
Like other kampung’s schools, it had a large football field. I am happy to confess that this was the field where I first played the Wau (a malay traditional kite-like game), where I first played the excessive afternoon football (this was common among us in Terengganu back then, by the way), where my first sukaneka was held :) and where I first started to learn how to ride a bicycle (I left the school not knowing how to ride a bicycle while all my brothers and sisters seemed good at it on their first try. They actually tried to teach me so many many many times and I failed every time. Later I learned how to ride the bicycle on my own when I moved to Kemaman) In so many ways, my brothers and sisters were good at so many things back then, eventhough they were younger than me (my brothers). I still remember the day when my I had this kind of brawl with my younger brother, Yie. I was the one who got beaten, went away into one of the rooms and silently listened to my dad cheering for Yie for beating me. Hehehe good old memories.
Okay, my mind went somewhere else when I should brag about this one teacher, sorry. I particularly remember this one teacher because he taught me something I never knew I would be good at and what more enjoying it.
Drawing :)
He asked the whole class one day to draw a bucket of flowers which he put on his desk. After that period, I was asked to come into his room and you all guess what did he ask me to do? Hehehe yes draw and draw some more. The same bucket of flowers. At the time, I don’t recall using any coloured pencils. We used crayons.
Of course, I didn’t know why was I spending time in the room drawing the flowers while others were in class, learning. The sad part of it was, the teacher didn’t stay there, he picked me up from the class every day and left me there alone drawing for the rest of the week. At the end of the week, my dad brought us the whole family to town and to the community hall to be exact and I finally got it why did I spend my time drawing.
It was a drawing competition. I was representing my school. I won third place.
I'm still keeping my first few drawings, the drawings of the same bucket of flowers. My mom framed them and hang them on the walls at home. Since then, I drew a lot. So many things, so many new ways. I was the president of the Art Club in my high school during my senior year.
Thanks to that teacher, and to my other teachers. God bless you all with good faith, good health, wealth and happiness.
The name of the school was Sekolah Kebangsaan Langgar, situated in the district of Hulu Terengganu. The closest town is Kuala Berang. The school is still there when he went back around a year ago, but with whole new buildings and bigger in area, not much like the school he remembered.
