Paradise Lost

25th November, went back to my quaint little hometown of Ipoh. Ahh, the sweet feeling of being home after a long stretch in the hectic city of Kuala Lumpur.

As my friend Aaron and I said as we beheld the town...

Ipoh, where the traffic is still smooth and clear....

Ipoh, where the food is good, clean, and comes at a good price....

Ipoh, where the hottest women come from....

Ipoh, where the birds still sing and the skies are purest blue....


I was home.


Sad to say, it was not to last. The elation that I felt when I reached home was soon squelched by a growing feeling in my gut that something was going to go wrong. The feeling started off as a small emotion growing at the back of my mind, so I didn't pay much attention to it.

There was an event which I was expected to attend during the week, and to be honest, I was not looking forward to it. It sort of, well, lacked importance.

Now, it was a formal event, and everyone was expected to be in formal attire, or at least in smart casual. It was to be in a hotel ballroom, with a buffet dinner and tables and seats. Now naturally, when there are tables and seats, there are limits to how many people can sit, and therefore a limit to how many people can actually attend the event. At the reception, I was asked to fill up a card (yeah, I was surprised too.) and pay a fee of RM 20. I was expecting to keep the card or something and use it as a ticket for entrance. No deal. They asked for the card and said it was to "be able to keep in touch with the newcomers".

Well alright then.

What really messed it up was when the introductions had already started and the buffet was open to crowd. I noticed that there was still people still coming in and out of the hall. Latecomers , I thought to myself. And so, when I had took some coffee mousse (really nice, by the way) it was nothing to think about. To be honest, I didn't have an appetite for the buffet as I didn't like standing in a line which consisted of about a hundred people all scrambling for food like it was the only meal they had that day.

And there I was enjoying my mousse and talking with my friends when some of the committee came up to us and asked us if we could split up and sit at different tables because nobody would. The people at the tables mentioned consisted of older folk, and I suppose I understand the feeling of not wanting to sit with people you are uncomfortable with, but what the heck man? No arrangements? And you dare to ask people whom have already got their seats, sat down with their food, to get up and split up and sit in different tables JUST LIKE THAT?

No friggin' deal, man.

I was so angry, I just put down my food and walked off. Manners prevented me from making a scene of myself, which I still say would have served them right. So I mingled around, talked to some people, and took a look around the place. Took some pics of the place, talked to some of the staff, and after cooling off a bit, went back in. Wasn't really thinking much at the time, but when I saw the way the events went, I was gripped by a strong feeling of revulsion. Yes, revulsion. As in the kind of feeling you get when watching a gory movie and all you want to see is the ending credits.

An Indian "kollam" which was put there for Deepavali.

The drama was lousy, the acting horrible, and the characters were so over-dramaticized that each and every one of them looked and felt like they were trying to be Romeo and Juliet in Happy Tree Friends. After the spectacle, I sat outside the hall trying to recompose myself when my friends came and joined me. By and by, we decided that a drink would be welcome and we asked the reception for the location of the bar.

And so the rest of the night passed relatively well, with us unanimously agreeing that the couple of hours spent talking, laughing and listening to the pleasing sounds of jazz was infinitely better than the fiasco in the Crystal Ballroom.(Heh.)

Me and Eric after the event.



Me and Aaron.

An afterthought. When I saw how things were done here, it gave me a twinge of pride in myself that I could have done so much better and, at the same time, a mixture of regret and pity for the people who spent their time and money, to say nothing of effort, and came up with this....event.

In truth, the whole organization was like an old rundown car, not unlike my own, rusted and creaking at the joints. The owner will try and repair the car to an extent, try to polish it up a little, and the like. The sad thing is, you guys don't need to change the oil or tune the engine once in a while, you guys need a friggin' overhaul. Damn.

The saddest thing is, I used to be with you. I used to do things with you. I laughed with you. I worked with you. I used to be proud of the fact that I was one of you. And yet, after I left, I realised exactly what was going on that made the situation it is today.

How can I sum it all up? A lack of exposure, lack of management, no sense of responsibility. I respect the fact that the management gave a lot of effort for this event, but if the work was put into place correctly, do all of you think that it would have gone the way it had? I for one do not think so.

Think on it.

This is the truth. You guys are immature. You can make some pretty bold claims on how you will "make history", but you can't even make it into the hearts and minds of your OWN people. Don't come to me with excuses when you had the resources, the time, and the manpower for the job. As my friend said, it would have made a phenomenal difference if even a small change like seating arrangements were made.

You guys could have done so much better. Sigh.

A trip back home has never been so disappointing.

Paraíso Perdido.