The euphoria was on the air again.

It has been an end-of-semester tradition. My extra-curricular activities with business communication students always tickle me emotionally, and tire me physically, of course. It started with Genting Highland blast last year. I was practically ‘high’ on the land with my newly-assigned term of endearments – Seman! How carefree it was, laughing and giddying hedonistically with a wild bunch of students. Then, it was inevitably followed by an unforgettable ‘catastrophe’ in Port Dickson. It was absolutely out-of-the-hell fun. This time around, the end-of-semester gathering was celebrated in an enchanting beach called, er, Balok.

Never heard of it? Don’t worry, because you have not missed a thing.

There is nothing unusual about the place. I just realized its very existence the moment I arrived there. Located around 15 kilometers from Kuantan, Pahang, the beach is a typical east-coast type – extremely wavy, seaweeds adrift everywhere, not-so-nice-looking brownish sand (and not to mention the notorious keep-our-beach-clean campaign). We didn’t have a single chance to swim into the beach because, as we were warned by the locals, of the possible dangers of tidal waves. But I didn’t care about all of these shortfalls. Because I was half-sponsored by a Datuk’s daughter!

Jeng jeng jeng.

It was Friday afternoon when eleven of us arrived at the Makmur Bus Station in Kuantan. We were soon picked up by three posh cars driven by three gentlemen. I wondered where they came from.

“So which masjid are we going to perform our Jumaat prayer?” I asked the stern-looking driver.
“There is no masjid around here.”
“There isn’t? How come?”
“No,” he answered rather unconcernedly. “We have to go out of the town, and by looking at the traffic condition now, I don’t think we can make it.”
I was silent. By the way, I could still perform Solat Jama’ since I was considered a traveler. But I wondered whether he was a traveler too.
“So, which one of you is anak Datuk?” he asked us out of a sudden.
We looked at each other. I was clueless, totally had no idea what he was talking about.

Later that evening, I learnt that one of my female students is the daughter of a successful Chinese businessman in KL, which happens to be a Datuk. It really took me by surprise because she was so humbly presentable in the classroom – her style didn’t match at all with her high-profile parents. I was also informed afterward that most of the expenses for food and accommodation were sponsored by the kind Datuk. It was so pleasantly surprising.

We stayed at the De Rhu Beach Resort (owned by a LKPP Pahang State). The resort was located rather remotely in the middle of a kampung area. It overlooked a very enchanting view. For a few momentary visions of absolute clarity, I thought I was at the ‘Garden of Eden’. It surely compensated the ugly-looking beach.

There were two rooms for us, with two single beds each – one room for seven girls (I wondered how they arranged themselves to sleep that night) and another one for four boys (I was one of them, apparently). Yes, it was surely uncomfortable, but what the heck, it is not every night that I would go through this trouble. So, I just went through the night rather involuntarily but also happily.

It was of course a good night sleep because we slept at four o’clock in the morning!

Twelve hours before that, we were having a lot of water-based activities in the resort’s biggest swimming pool (our so-called beach activities!). I nearly sprained my legs since I was too excited chasing the ball in the pool. The grand dinner that night was a barbecue by the dark beach. We were so lucky because there were so many helpful hands from Datuk-related people who took care of so many details of the vacation. This included the Datuk’s wife who suddenly appeared during the barbecue session, complaining and grumbling everything we did (Gee… a typical Datin!). We survived the hassle when she left.

After midnight, we were gathered quite illegally in the lobby. The resort was locked after 12 midnight and guests were strictly prohibited to go out for security reasons (I was not sure what the security guards were doing). It was our only time together, and we didn’t want to end the night so early. If we had gone to sleep early that night, what would be the difference between a vacation and a hostel life? So after sweet-talking to one of the guards, we sneaked out and gathered by the beach under a clear moonlight reflecting beautifully on the surface of the sea. It was a charming setting for lovers. To realize that I was not with anyone called a perfect lover, but with a group of young-blood students, I sighed contentedly, smiling submissively.

It was the night of confession. We exchanged stories – I told them some of the inspiring stories of mine, hoping to enlighten their souls. It was as if the bridge between us had been torn apart. We talked and talked, and stopped for a while when we saw some kind of lights coming out of the nearby bush, being aware of the possibilities of supernatural distractions (or simply getting caught by religious authorities!). But nothing happened. The talks went on and on until the last exciting part when we played “dare of truth” game. Those who opted for “dare” had to perform daring actions like climbing a tree or rolling on the sand. Thanks to logical reasons, nobody chose to do that.

When it came to my turn, I chose “truth”. Eddy was ready to let go of the bomb.
“Sir, are you metrosexual?”
“Er, depending on how you see it.”
He laughed rather creepily and said: “I respect lah you, Sir.”

We all smiled knowingly. In fact, the broad smile lasted on our faces when we woke up late the following morning, checked out at 12 p.m., and departed to KL at 3 p.m. Before I left, they surprised me with two nicely-framed photos, which showcase the memories of our togetherness. Out of so many material choices, they chose memory. It was a perfect gift. And this Balok trip would not easily slip out of my fragile mind.

To Sheila, Natrah, Rin, Liza, Shikin, Azie, Ina, Eddy, Ijan and Wazir – You are my angels!

The second semester has just ended. No longer waking up at the wee hours as early as 5.45 a.m. everyday, 30 minutes’ cold shower, 30 minutes’ dreaming in front of the mirror, 20 minutes’ lonely driving, and 60 minutes’ waiting for the eyes to have the shape of an energetic happy lecturer. And at 8, the happiest clown is transformed, ready to sail his English class through the liveliest journey ever. Well, those things ended a week ago. No more pretending. No more make-believe stories. I don’t know what to feel now. Happy? Maybe.

This semester, my students waited until the last class to please me.

“Sir, can we form a big circle among all of us?” asked Yati, the monitor of the class. I was perplexed, and answered with a fall-rise tone, “Okay...” What the hell these students are up to? Are they going to throw a surprise party? No way, I don’t think they know how to appreciate their lecturers, let alone giving gifts. (Well, don’t get me wrong, dear readers. I am not expecting them, but I would be very honored if they do). For three years, none of my imaginary things ever happened. Knowing the attitude of my students, the college would go on fire if they conduct a surprise party for their lecturer.

“Sir,” Yati began the seemingly prepared speech, “we are here to thank you for teaching us. We like your teaching style, so funny and happy-go-lucky. We are so happy to have you as our English lecturer.” What on earth do these people know about happy teaching?

Kamal raised and said code-switchingly, “On behalf of the boys, we would like to apologise and minta ampun because we all selalu datang lambat kelas and tak hantar assignment on time. But you are very kind Sir, tak pernah marah pun.” Opss…!

Yati raised and took out something from her bag. “We have something for you sir.” I was stunned and whispered, “What is this?” Yati smiled. She handed me three boxes of beautiful gifts. And everybody started to exchange their gifts. A photography session followed. It was perfect. I have never felt so blessed to be a lecturer.

Later, when they asked me to speak, I was strangely nervous. But I managed to get myself composed and this is my farewell speech: “Guys, I have never expected that you are gonna do this to me. I mean, the last time I experienced this was ten years ago, when I was a student like you, organizing a farewell party for my lecturer. I thought my students here would never do the things that I used to do. But, today I am proven wrong. I am so overwhelmed. Thanks a lot. You are so nice.”

“You know what, let me tell you a secret. I never get angry with you guys because I am not your grandfather to nag you all the time. I am not that old okay. I am your friend here, and I like Simple Plan also, like you all do. Well, why should I be bothered that you come late. You are grownups. And I want to treat you as adults. It’s you class. And it’s your marks that matter. I am not the one who is going to pass or fail. You know the rule, and you are the one who will bear the consequences, not me. So, I am not bothered, but guys, listen, my silence doesn’t mean that I agree. I am not a malay wannabe bride who is supposed to be silent to agree to get married. Now, I must tell you again, what you did was obviously wrong, and again, you are the one who is going to change that attitude, not me.”

“However, what matters most to me in this class is that you are happy. Whatever you do here, assignments, homework, or whatsoever, do it happily. This is my principle, my simple plan. Be happy! Shut up all the worries. Learning English ought to be enjoyable. There is no point that you come here everyday at 8 o’clock, wake up early everyday, but then, you are not happy. Life is too short. We are not going to meet here everyday. Sooner or later, we will say good bye, like today. We are not sure whether we will meet again in the future. So, be happy while we are still here, together.”

I am not sure whether I really meant the things that I said. But, I am pretty sure that that was one of the rare occasions which have the Bollywood-style endings, a happy ending.

(This post was originally published by cekmi at dannyhussainy.blogspot.com on April 5, 2005)

No, I have not been in Bali recently. It is our very own famous Port Dickson. Yes, PD – the easiest and most instant vacation spot for most of tired KLians. Well, the journey would take only about one and a half hours. I was there last week, spending my much anticipated end-of-semester vacation with my lovely ex-Business Communication students. We stayed in a lazily-mantained apartment called Sunshine. And the pathetic management is trying too hard to impose the international face to the apartment by constructing a shake-or-stir café at the opposite side of its entrance.


The trip was full of fun. It was, so far, the longest social outing I have ever had with my students. Although there were only 4 boys and 8 girls, the whole ‘extravaganza’ was filled with unexpected excitement and pleasant thrills. The monkey boys especially. Hahaha.


It is okay students, this time around, I have no crucial points about the trip. Don’t worry about what I feel. Frankly speaking, I truly enjoyed those great moments we shared together. The barbeque was superb. The poison box game was hilarious. The out-of-the-blue outing to Bandar Bersejarah Melaka was indeed worthwhile doing. Yes, since you were going out with your educator, I would call that a Lawatan Sambil Belajar outing. Hehehe.


Oh, Cekmi also could not wait to deliver his best killing shots.


Here are the two-word descriptions that Cekmi thinks of you guys.

Irfan: Big Head
Wadud: Petite Leader
Fahmi: Great Husband
Mok: Cute Model
Aen: Iron Lady
Nisa: Sweet Wife
Hasnah: Persistent Tigress
Sharina: Daring Driver
Lina: Bright Mind
Janet: Stylish Hilton
Garfield: Shy Cat
Jihan: Nnggo Sokmo