Malaysian Post

What is the RAHMAN Prophecy?

The RAHMAN Prophecy states that the initials of the first six Prime Ministers of Malaysia shall spell out the name “RAHMAN”.

R - Abdul Rahman
A - Abdul Razak
H - Hussein Onn
M - Mahathir Mohamad
A - Abdullah Ahmad Badawi (previously speculated as Anwar)
N - ???

The present Deputy Prime Minister is Mohamad Najib. If and when Dato’ Sri Mohd Najib bin Tun Haji Abdul Razak takes over the Premiership, the pro-RAHMAN Prophecy camp will feel vindicated that the “prophecy” has been fulfilled.

Meanwhile the skeptics are still wondering why Abdul Rahman is represented by the letter “R” while Abdul Razak is represented by the letter “A”.

What do you think??

Was around Dataran Merdeka (Independence Square) on the morning of 29th August 2007 and happened to witness a lot of colours and movement in the area. Participants in the Golden Anniversary of Malaysia’s Independence were having their full dress rehearsal.

Throngs of local folks, family and friends, nearby office workers as well as tourists from around the globe were mingling and happily snapping photographs of the rehearsal. I joined in the fun and managed to snap some photos of the antique cars that will be on parade on the historic day.

 More photos of these antique cars can be viewed at Free Photo Gallery.

New York: A nutcracker in the shape and face of Hillary Clinton is selling like hot cakes in US. And it works really well, says those who are cracking nuts one after the other, using the New York senator doll’s ‘steel thighs’.

The Hillary nutcracker sells for 20 bucks on line at a Manhattan novelty store called la Brea. It’s displayed on the same shelf as the Jesus action figure. The man behind the nutcracker says he’s sold 10-thousand of them.

Those right wing nuts out there better watch out. It works? Oh yea. Just ask Bill who already has one. “The hillary nutcracker seems of pretty good quality, it’s lab tested at 500 cracks,” said one user.

It’s the rare political novelty that those both for and against the candidate appreciate.

Yes, the Hillary nutcracker actually exists. With spring loaded, stainless steel thighs. The Hillary Nutcracker sure cracked up the gang in our breakroom.

“Is that Hillary doll?” Not doll but a nutcracker.

But is it a compliment or insult? “Insult,” said George, a Manhattan resident. “That’s a compliment,” said another. “I think it’s offensive,” said Carol in Alabama. “That is so cool,” said Elina in New Jersey.

Now you’re obviously a two-handed cracker nut. No comment came from the Hillary Clinton campaign. Forget the nutcracker. If bill ever has to be put on a short leash again, at least it could say Hillary

Ziying’s Brush as published in The Star, Malaysia on 22nd August 2007

Kapitan Cina Yap Kwan Seng’s philanthropic deeds helped lay the foundations of this country and he should be accorded the appropriate recognition in our museums.

A FEW weeks, ago my uncle and his son came to Kuala Lumpur for a visit. They live in Hong Kong and that was their first trip to Malaysia in several years. My uncle said one of the places they were particularly keen to visit was the National Museum (Muzium Negara). He remembered from an earlier visit nearly a decade ago that his grandfather’s photo was in one of the museum’s galleries and he wanted his son to see it.

Naturally, I was delighted. After all, the country is celebrating 50 years of independence and what better time for someone to reconnect with its historical heritage than on its big birthday? Moreover, though I have been to many excellent museums outside the country, I could not remember when I last visited a museum in Malaysia.

Kuala Lumpur’s last Kapitan Cina Yap Kwan Seng, dressed in Qing dynasty attire.

I soon found out, however, that the historical galleries were no longer in Muzium Negara but had been moved to the National History Museum, a pleasant cream-coloured building that used to be the old Chartered Bank, in the heart of Kuala Lumpur. (The building is adjacent to Padang Merdeka and the Selangor Club building)

As we stepped inside the small museum, we looked forward to re-discovering Malaysia’s pre-colonial past as well as the life and times of the immigrants who, through a mixture of guts, grit and resolve born of desperate circumstances in the 19th and early 20th centuries, played such an important role in Malaya’s economic and social development.

My uncle was eager to see the exhibits on the Kapitan Cina of Kuala Lumpur, the last of whom was his grandfather, Yap Kwan Seng.

Kapitan Yap Kwan Seng’s philanthropic deeds and his many contributions to the birth of Kuala Lumpur are the stuff of history. Among his numerous achievements, perhaps one of the most significant is the founding of the Tung Shin Hospital (originally set up as a charity named Pooi Shin Tong) to provide free medical care for the poor. The expenses were, of course, underwritten by the Kapitan himself, who also co-founded the Tai Wah Ward of the Pauper’s Hospital that became the Kuala Lumpur General Hospital.

His philanthropic deeds extended beyond Malaya and it is said that a year before he died in 1901, he donated the princely sum of ten thousand dollars towards famine relief in India, a gesture which surely qualifies as Malaysia’s first-ever effort at international humanitarian aid.

Kapitan Yap was also a firm believer in education and co-founded one of the leading schools in Malaysia – KL’s Victoria Institution. As a businessman, he foresaw an increased demand for bricks in fast-growing Kuala Lumpur and established a kiln in a district which came to be called Brickfields, a name by which it is still known today.

Kapitan Yap had made his fortune in tin-mining. It is said he had a workforce of 7,000 and owned more tin mines than any of his contemporaries.

The Kapitan died many years before my mother and her brothers were born, but his legacy had a lasting influence on her family, who kept his memory alive by recounting stories of his life.

My mother remembered quite clearly her grandfather’s houses in Kuala Lumpur and Macau. In fact, before the Japanese War, she lived for a short period in the Kapitan’s residence on High Street in Kuala Lumpur’s Chinatown (which is today known as Jalan Tun H.S. Lee).

She said it was massive, occupying the greater part of the street, with many deep courtyards, and a large garden in front for entertaining guests. Over 50 people, many of whom were servants, lived in the house. The ancestral hall must have been particularly impressive as she recalled it had a grand altar table upon which was placed chunks of crystal, quartz, gold and other precious stones found in the Kapitan’s tin mines.

As my mother attended school in Hong Kong, she spent summer vacations at her grandfather’s mansion in Macau, which was apparently even bigger than the Kuala Lumpur residence. It was, she said, long and deep, with countless rooms, nooks and crannies, and so large that many sections were perpetually dim as they had no access to natural light.

Sadly, although the old colonial powers of Britain, Portugal and Holland were given their respective places in the National History Museum, my uncle and I could not find any references to Yap Kwan Seng or to the other Kapitans who helped lay the foundations of this country.

History museums are repositories of a country’s past, which, among other things, provide valuable insights into the development of a society or a nation. It is anybody’s guess why the Kapitans of old have been omitted from the Museum.

An oversight, perhaps, but for Yap Kwan Seng’s descendants and for the many people who to this day benefit from his good works, his legacy will never be forgotten. It is in this spirit that I dedicate this week’s column to my great-grandfather, the last Kapitan Cina of Kuala Lumpur.

Ziying is taking a break and will return in October. She can be reached at ziyingster@gmail.com

Ziying’s Brush as published in The Star, Malaysia on  8th August 2007

The bronze Flying Horse of Wuwei epitomises the Han dynasty’s affection for the swift steeds of Ferghana.

THE Gansu Provincial Museum in Lanzhou had recently re-opened after extensive renovations. There, we were greeted by a senior researcher who guided us through its smart new galleries. The museum houses an impressive collection of bronzes that date back 3,000 years to the Zhou dynasty, and 8,000-year-old black-painted pottery vessels from the Dadiwan culture, the pride of which is a 6,000-7,000-year-old jar topped with a clay human head which our researcher said is the earliest known piece of sculpture in China.

The museum’s star exhibit, however, is the iconic bronze Flying Horse of Wuwei. Just two days earlier we had visited the general’s tomb where this 1,800-year-old bronze sculpture was found. In the museum it was, in a solitary place of honour, perched on a glass column inside a free-standing illuminated case. The remaining two dozen or so bronze horses, riders, carriages and livestock, all about 30 cm high, stood in formation in an enclosure. As testament to their importance, the carefully-moulded horses stood at the front of the assembly while lowly oxen, without ears or tails, were placed at the very back.

China’s national tourism symbol and a national treasure, the Flying Horse was every bit as beautiful and inspired as I had imagined. Just over 30cm tall and perfectly proportioned, it exuded grace, speed and power. With its right hind leg treading lightly on a startled swallow, the half-metre long “heavenly steed” in full gallop appears surprised to have overtaken a flying bird.

Our visit to the Flying Horse marked the end of our brief journey and left us with a compelling last impression of the Han dynasty’s romance with the swift “blood-sweating” mounts of Ferghana, a prize for which Emperor Wudi sent an army across several thousand kilometres of inhospitable terrain.

Sandwiched between deserts and mountains, the landscape of the so-called Silk Road was probably not much different two millennia ago. Some friends described their trip to the region as “rough and dangerous”.

Compelling: The Gansu Provincial Museum in Lanzhou has an excellent collection of ancient bronzes and terracotta vessels.

Whatever concerns I might have had turned out to be unfounded. The 4,000 kilometre Urumqi-Shanghai expressway that conducted us from Urumqi to Turpan, and then from Dunhuang to Lanzhou, was excellent. We drove almost 1,500 kilometres across scrubland, foothills, and past deep blue salt water lakes and reservoirs without incident.

Impressive, too, was the overnight train from Turpan to Liuyuan, near Dunhuang. With four bunk beds to a cabin, it was efficient, quiet, smooth and comfortable. Most of all, everything, from the stainless steel bathrooms to the beddings, was spotlessly clean.

Typical of Chinese trains, it kept strictly to schedule, and was spot on time.

Besides the first-rate road and rail infrastructure, the government is evidently also attempting to improve the energy infrastructure in the area as we passed wind farms near Turpan as well as in the Hexi Corridor, where gusts roaring in from the mountains and desert drive hundreds of gigantic windmills to generate clean energy.

Food seems to be a key concern for many people travelling in the region but I found it to be varied and delicious throughout, notably the mutton dishes. The weather though, was erratic - it went from sub-zero temperatures in the evenings to warm and sunny in the daytime. And since the whole of China runs on Beijing time, it was still dark and cold at six or seven in the morning in Xinjiang, China’s far west.

I had particularly wanted to visit places of significance to Han history along China’s Silk Road, and it was interesting to find that nearly all major towns in the Hexi Corridor were garrisons that bore the footprint of General Huo Qubing. Similarly, oasis towns like Gaochang in Xinjiang were Han military outposts used by General Li Guangli on his campaigns to Ferghana.

Even with modern day transport and conveniences our 2,000-kilometre-long journey was physically demanding. Yet two millennia ago, the Han army and emissaries like Zhang Qian made their expeditions on horseback or on foot. Though they had to contend with hostile tribes and indifferent city-states along the way, they still managed to command territories thousands of kilometres away from the imperial capital Changan.

Like Qin Shihuangdi, Wudi was obviously an emperor of great vision. I can only wonder at his drive and determination and the immense courage of those who served him, as well as of the traders, soldiers and artisans who plied this ancient route. Their strength and tenacity should serve as inspiration for the revival of China’s western regions.