SS Quah's Anything Goes

What's with the 21st of October?

noreply@blogger.com (SS Quah) — Sun, 25 Oct 2026 04:30:19 +0000

The 21st of October is one of those dates on which quite a number of important events took place, spread across different parts of the world and several centuries. Some changed the course of wars, some helped shape the countries we know today, while others had a lasting effect on everyday life. What follows is based on what I have uncovered in my reading. And for us in Penang, this date has a special significance of its own.

The earliest event in this collection goes back to 1097, when the forces of the First Crusade began the Siege of Antioch. The siege, which started on this date, lasted until June the following year. The capture of Antioch became one of the major episodes of the First Crusade, although the crusaders themselves paid a heavy price in hunger and disease during the campaign.

On 21 October 1520, the Portuguese explorer Ferdinand Magellan reached the entrance to the passage at the southern tip of South America that would later bear his name. The Strait of Magellan eventually provided a sea route between the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. It was a significant moment in the expedition that would go on to complete the first circumnavigation of the world, although Magellan himself would not survive the voyage. It is worth distinguishing between sighting the entrance to the strait and completing the passage through it, which took longer.

Moving to Japan, 21 October 1600 was the date of the Battle of Sekigahara, one of the decisive battles in Japanese history. Tokugawa Ieyasu’s Eastern Army defeated its opponents, leaving him in a position to consolidate his power. In 1603, he was appointed shogun, establishing the Tokugawa shogunate, which ruled Japan until the Meiji Restoration in 1868.

The 18th and 19th centuries also saw several important events fall on this date. On 21 October 1794, Captain Francis Light, the founder of the British settlement on Prince of Wales' Island, died of malaria. His death came just eight years after the British established their settlement on the island in 1786. Light's name remains closely connected with the early history of George Town.

On 21 October 1797, the American warship USS Constitution was launched at Edmund Hartt’s shipyard in Boston. Nicknamed Old Ironsides after its celebrated engagements during the War of 1812, it became one of the best-known ships in American naval history. It is still afloat today and is recognised as the world's oldest commissioned warship afloat.

Eight years later, on 21 October 1805, the Battle of Trafalgar took place off the coast of Spain. The British fleet under Vice-Admiral Lord Nelson defeated the combined French and Spanish fleets, thwarting Napoleon Bonaparte's hopes of challenging Britain at sea and helping secure British naval dominance for decades. Nelson was mortally wounded during the battle and died later that day aboard HMS Victory. The victory came at a great personal cost to the British, but Trafalgar became one of the most celebrated events in their naval history.

For Penang Free School, 21 October 1816 is particularly important. On that day, the Prince of Wales' Island Free School first opened its doors to boys on the island, initially operating from rented premises in Love Lane. The word “Free” referred to the principle that education should be free from racial and religious prejudice. It did not mean that every pupil necessarily received a free education, as fees were paid by families who could afford them, while assistance was provided to those who could not. The school is widely recognised as the oldest English-medium school in South-east Asia.

Another event on this date concerned a woman who would change the way nursing was regarded. On 21 October 1854, Florence Nightingale left England with nurses bound for the military hospitals at Scutari, in the Ottoman Empire, during the Crimean War. The conditions there were appalling, and her work in improving nursing care, hygiene and hospital administration would help shape the development of modern nursing.

There is also a familiar American story associated with 21 October 1879: Thomas Edison and his team working on the incandescent electric lamp. The date has long been celebrated as a milestone in the development of the light bulb, but historians who examined the laboratory records have questioned the claim that the decisive experiment took place on that particular day. While Edison and his team developed a practical incandescent lamp as part of a wider electric lighting system, the system was publicly demonstrated later in 1879.

The 20th century brought its own share of significant events on this date. On 21 October 1943, Subhas Chandra Bose announced the establishment of the Provisional Government of Free India, also known as Azad Hind, in Singapore. Bose and his supporters hoped to end British rule in India, and the government was closely associated with the Indian National Army. Its declaration was an important episode in the wider struggle for Indian independence during the Second World War.

On 21 October 1944, the German city of Aachen surrendered to American forces after weeks of fighting. It became the first major German city to fall to the Allies during the Second World War. The capture was an important step in the Allied advance into Germany, although the fighting in Europe would continue for several more months.

On 21 October 1966, Penang Free School was celebrating its Sesquicentenary which marked 150 years since it first opened its doors. Yet, almost halfway around the globe, a tragedy was unfolding. A coal-waste tip had collapsed onto the Welsh village of Aberfan, and the black slurry engulfed another educational institution, Pantglas Junior Schoolm and nearby homes, killing 144 people that included 116 children. While Penang was marking a proud milestone in its educational history, the people of Aberfan were plunged into grief by one of Britain's worst mining disasters.

On 21 October 1967, tens of thousands of people gathered in Washington DC to protest against American involvement in the Vietnam War. After a rally at the Lincoln Memorial, many marched towards the Pentagon, where clashes took place between demonstrators and security forces. An estimated crowd close to 100,000 people. The demonstration became one of the best-known protests of the Vietnam War era and reflected the growing opposition to the conflict within the United States.

There is also a notable birthday to record. Alfred Nobel, the Swedish chemist, inventor and businessman whose will established the Nobel Prizes, was born in Stockholm on 21 October 1833. He made his fortune through inventions including dynamite, but his lasting public legacy is the series of prizes that bears his name. The first Nobel Prizes were awarded in 1901, five years after his death.

It is quite a collection of events for one day in history. And for many of us in Penang, the reason to remember the 21st of October as the day in 1794 when Superintendent Francis Light died and in 1816 that the Prince of Wales' Island Free School first opened its doors. More than two centuries later, that date continues to hold a special place in Penang's history.

The Light-Hutchings connection

noreply@blogger.com (SS Quah) — Sat, 24 Oct 2026 05:28:21 +0000

Since 1948, the Prefects of Penang Free School have attended an annual commemorative service at the grave of Robert Sparke Hutchings in the old Protestant Cemetery along Northam Road. The tradition was started by Dennis Roper, who was the headmaster of the school at the time, and it continues to this day.

Normally, once the service is over, that's about all the formal activity at the cemetery. There would be the usual photography sessions, with the schoolboys and prefects getting to know some of their Old Frees seniors, before everyone headed back to the school for Speech Day. But this year, things were a little different. There was time to spare because Speech Day had already been held on the first of October. There was no rush.

After the service, I brought the boys and the Old Frees along to see the grave of Francis Light, which was only a stone's throw away from Hutchings' resting place. From their reactions, I could tell that almost everyone had never seen Light's grave before, not even known that he was buried there. Well, there's a first time for everything, I suppose!

Will I show the grave to next year's batch of Prefects as well? That will depend on whether I can drag myself out of my warm bed early enough next October. Let's see how things go.

Anyway, while we were there, I posed a question to the boys and the Old Frees. What is the one surprising fact that connects Francis Light and Robert Sparke Hutchings, even though the two men never met each other? Light died in 1794, while Hutchings arrived in Penang in 1814, a gap of 20 years. What connects them?

OFA annual dinner 2026

noreply@blogger.com (SS Quah) — Fri, 23 Oct 2026 01:52:54 +0000

I've attended so many OFA annual dinners that I've long stopped counting them. In the early days, the dinners were held at the club premises, first in Leith Street, then Hutton Lane, Mandalay Road and finally Northam Road, until this latest clubhouse was renovated in 1997. Since then, the dinners have been held elsewhere, usually in hotels with big ballrooms, although restaurants have also been used once or twice. For the past several years, St Giles Wembley has become the venue of choice.

Last Tuesday, the 103rd OFA annual dinner was held there, and I attended with five other mates from my batch in Penang Free School. I had hoped more of our old schoolmates would sign up, but that wasn't to be. They all had their own reasons, of course. Still, with those of us from the 1970 Form Five and 1972 Form Six batches getting on in years, I thought this would have been a good opportunity for more of us to get together again for old times' sake. Better response next year, perhaps?

Anyway, I thoroughly enjoyed myself at this year's dinner, catching up with these mates and bumping into many more old farts along the way. At our age, there's always plenty of pleasantries to share and talk about, even if we sometimes have to remind one another of names and events from years gone by. Never mind. That's part of the fun of meeting up again. Some of my personal pictures follow below.

Dr Amir Shah, Ivan Ooi, Dr PP Shah and Dr Choong Sim Poey

See Swee Sie (present PCA President) and Dr Choong Sim Poey (former PCA President)

Penang Free School Prefects

My batch mates

My chess kakis

Miss Asia Global 2026 brought dozens of beauty contestants from multiple countries to Penang this week, and they chose to introduce themselves at our OFA annual dinner. I had bumped into five or six of them earlier when they squeezed into the hotel lift. As I left on the 10th floor, I gave them a bye-bye and said, "Too bad, we can't follow you up to the 26th floor."

Remembering Hutchings 2026

noreply@blogger.com (SS Quah) — Wed, 21 Oct 2026 05:42:42 +0000

Every year, I tell myself that this shall be the last time I attend the annual Robert Sparke Hutchings commemorative service at his grave in the old Protestant Cemetery in George Town. But when the 21st of October comes around again, I somehow find myself dragging my body out of bed at five o’clock in the morning, getting ready for the 45-minute journey from home to the cemetery. There is something about this little service that keeps drawing me back.

I first attended the service in 2012 and, over the past 15 years, I have missed it only twice. The service itself is a fairly brief affair, usually lasting just 10 to 15 minutes, but it brings together representatives from Penang Free School, Hutchings Sixth Form College, The Old Frees’ Association and St George’s Church. An Anglican priest from the church leads the service at Hutchings’ grave, where those present gather to remember a man whose influence is still felt in Penang today.

Each of these four institutions has its own connection with Hutchings. Penang Free School is perhaps the most obvious, as he founded the school which opened to boys of all races, religions and creeds on 21 October 1816. Hutchings Sixth Form College, formerly Hutchings Secondary School, inherited his name after Penang Free School moved from its Farquhar Street premises to Green Lane at the end of 1927. The Old Frees’ Association is the alumni association of those who passed through the Free School, while St George’s Church has its own historical connection with Hutchings, who was the colonial chaplain in Penang and was associated with the church in its early days. The church itself was completed in 1818 and consecrated the following year.

There are usually a few other Old Frees who turn up as well, myself included. Although I attend as a member of The Old Frees’ Association, I suppose each of us has our own reason for making the early-morning trip. For me, it has become one of those annual occasions that I keep telling myself I can do without, only to find that I am back there again when the date comes around.

The Old Frees at the commemorative service

Triangular chess match

noreply@blogger.com (SS Quah) — Sun, 18 Oct 2026 02:34:52 +0000

Only the second year that the OFA-OXA-MBSU triangular games had included chess but we're quite happy to have won it this time. Last year was a disappointment because we had only managed the second spot. This time, we made sure to have our reinforcements ready: a line-up that included Chern Ee, Ronnie and Jonathan. Plus, a steady back-up from Ing Kiat, Thean Keat and Kah Poh ensured we would take full points from the Old Xavierians' Association and the Methodist Boys' School Union. There's more of what I want to say about the triangular games but I'd rather prefer to show these pictures below to commemorate the event.

Cheap wills

noreply@blogger.com (SS Quah) — Fri, 16 Oct 2026 02:24:59 +0000

I came across a report in Free Malaysia Today yesterday about why we should take the preparation of a will seriously. A poorly prepared will can leave a family fighting in court for years, and that was what happened to the family of a woman named R Letchemy, whose will was signed just five weeks before she died.

Letchemy was 74 when she signed the will on 06 October 2021. She died on 11 November that year, but instead of settling her estate, the document became the centre of a legal dispute that dragged on for four years. Her brother, R Supparamaniam, challenged the will and sought to have the whole document declared invalid.

The High Court in Malacca eventually upheld most of the will's provisions. The judge found that Letchemy had the mental capacity to make a will and understood and approved how she wanted her assets distributed. This included leaving out her brother and his family. It may not have been a decision that everyone agreed with, but a person is generally entitled to decide who should inherit their estate.

However, one clause did not survive the court challenge. It was intended to penalise anyone who challenged the will or helped someone else to do so. The judge found insufficient evidence that Letchemy had understood and approved this particular provision, and it was struck out.

There was another complication. Letchemy could not read English, the language in which the will was written. Although a solicitor had explained the document to her in Tamil before she signed it, the court found shortcomings in the way her instructions had been recorded and in the evidence showing how the will had been explained. There was no contemporaneous note documenting the explanation or the solicitor's assessment of her understanding.

So it is not enough to produce a document and get the client to sign it, there is a need to establish that the client understands what the will says and that it reflects their intentions. This becomes even more important when the will contains unusual provisions or excludes close family members from an inheritance.

The law firm involved had charged between RM500 and RM700 for preparing a will. In a postscript to his judgment, Judicial Commissioner K Raja Segaran made the point that the care required in preparing a will should depend on what is at stake, not on how much the fee charged. As he put it, “A modest fee does not lessen the duty.”

The judge also recommended several safeguards, including recording the client's instructions carefully, checking the assets involved, explaining the draft in a language the client understands and keeping a record of the questions asked to establish that the client understands the document. He also warned against simply reusing standard clauses from earlier wills without checking that they reflect the wishes of the person making the will.

So this report reinforces the importance of having a properly prepared will in the first place. Through companies like Rockwills Corporation, the aim is to help ensure that a will is drafted clearly and satisfactorily, and that it is based on the testator's instructions and wishes. The person making the will should understand what is written, have the opportunity to clarify anything that is unclear and be satisfied that the document says what he or she actually wants it to say.

Of course, no one can guarantee that a will will never be challenged. But taking the time to explain the provisions properly and making sure the instructions are clearly documented can help reduce the risk of misunderstandings and disputes later. In Letchemy's case, probate was eventually granted to her niece, N Selvarani, subject to the removal of the disputed clause.

The lesson here is that making a will is one thing, but making sure it is properly prepared is another. Most of us would prefer not to think too much about what happens to our estate after we are gone, but it is worth spending some time getting our affairs in order while we are still around to explain what we want. Otherwise, our family may be left trying to interpret our intentions, with the possibility of years of disagreement and legal expenses.

If there are questions about making a will, or about how Rockwills Corporation can help, anyone can get in touch with me. I'm happy to help clarify the process and answer any questions. It is better to sort these matters out while we are still around to explain what we want, rather than leave our family to work it out for themselves later.

Malaysia's chess predicament

noreply@blogger.com (SS Quah) — Tue, 13 Oct 2026 22:28:00 +0000

I don't like to say this, but I believe the Malaysian Chess Federation has got itself into a fine pickle over the FIDE World Amateur Chess Championships scheduled to begin on 04 November 2026.

Some two months ago, I learnt that the World Chess Federation, FIDE, had awarded Malaysia the rights to organise the championships, with the Selangor Chess Association entrusted with staging the event in Klang. As far as I knew, preparations were proceeding normally. Then, a few days ago, news emerged that the Israeli Chess Federation was complaining that it had not received an invitation for its players to participate. And that's where the trouble begins.

FIDE's rules on hosting official international chess events include a principle of free access for representatives of its member federations. Israel is a member of FIDE, just as Malaysia is. So, from the chess world's point of view, Israeli players should be able to take part in a FIDE championship on the same basis as players from other member federations.

But Malaysia has its own government policy on Israeli nationals entering the country, and that is where the two positions seem destined to collide. Given the Malaysian government's longstanding position, I find it difficult to imagine Israeli chess players being granted entry visas simply because they have the right to play in a chess tournament. The Israeli Chess Federation is huffing to participate in a FIDE event, while the Malaysian government has made its position on Israeli athletes very clear. How is the Malaysian Chess Federation supposed to reconcile these two positions?

This is not the first time Malaysia has found itself in this position. In January 2019, the Malaysian government confirmed that Israeli athletes would not be allowed to participate in the World Para Swimming Championships scheduled to be held in Kuching that July. The International Paralympic Committee subsequently withdrew Malaysia's right to host the event because the government could not guarantee that Israeli athletes would be allowed to compete. The championships had to find another host.

That episode should have served as a warning. The government's position has been known for years, and I see no reason to assume that it will suddenly make an exception for chess players. If Malaysia cannot admit Israeli participants, how can it fulfil its obligations as host of a FIDE world championship? This is not simply a question of whether an invitation letter has been sent. An invitation is of little use if the players cannot obtain permission to enter the country.

So now, this is a problem that was not properly considered before Malaysia took on the hosting rights. When bidding for this international championship, the Malaysian Chess Federation and the organisers overlooked the conditions imposed by FIDE and the practical requirements for bringing players from all member federations to Malaysia. The government's position on Israeli participation in sporting events was hardly a secret. Did nobody consider what would happen if Israeli players wanted to take part?

I should add that I don't think the same difficulty necessarily arises with every international chess event held in Malaysia. Asian-level competitions, for instance, do not involve Israel in the same way because of the geographical zones used by FIDE. Israel belongs to a European zone in FIDE's classification, despite being geographically part of Asia. That distinction can make a difference to which federations are expected to participate. An event open to the whole world, however, is another matter altogether.

For now, I don't know how this will end. Perhaps FIDE and the Malaysian Chess Federation are still trying to find a way out of the predicament. But with the championship due to begin on the fourth of November, time is running short. After all the work that must already have gone into preparing the venue, accommodation, tournament arrangements and other logistics, it would be a real pity if Malaysia were to lose the event.

And that brings me back to the question that bothers me most. Who made the decision to accept the hosting rights without first resolving this obvious conflict between FIDE's requirements and Malaysia's policy? Was the issue raised at all when the bid was being considered? Somebody in the Federation ought to explain how this situation was allowed to develop.

I say this as someone who has been involved in Malaysian chess for many years. We should be proud when FIDE entrusts us with an event of this standing. But accepting the honour of hosting a world championship also means accepting the responsibilities that come with it. We cannot simply hope that a problem everyone should have anticipated will somehow disappear when the tournament draws near.

To Balik Pulau and back

noreply@blogger.com (SS Quah) — Tue, 13 Oct 2026 08:43:12 +0000

We did something a little different yesterday. We followed the monks from the Nandaka Vihara Meditation Society on a visit to two Buddhist monasteries in Balik Pulau and a meditation centre in Bukit Mertajam, and it turned out to be quite a day, almost like putting in a full day's work. We left home at 9.30am and didn't get back until 5.30pm. Eight hours out and about, and thankfully, I wasn't the one behind the wheel.

That job was left to a younger person, which was just as well because it rained heavily for much of the day. Driving in that sort of weather can be quite challenging for me, especially when visibility is poor and the roads are wet. I was quite happy to sit back and leave the driving to someone younger!

Our first stop was the Balik Pulau Buddhist Hermitage. Getting there was an adventure in itself. We turned off onto a road that seemed to get narrower and narrower until it was barely wide enough for a car to pass through. For a moment, I wondered whether we were heading in the right direction, but eventually we arrived at the hermitage. It was a rather secluded place and practically deserted. We had to let ourselves in through the gate. The only person there was the chief monk.

After that, we made our way to Vihara BoonRaksa Forest Monastery, also in Balik Pulau. This place was more accessible than the first, without the narrow approach that had made our earlier journey so interesting. We'd actually visited both places two or three years ago, so this wasn't our first time there. Not much seemed to have changed, although I had the opportunity to explore a little more this time around.

From Balik Pulau, we headed back to the mainland for our final stop at the Bukit Mertajam Buddhist Meditation Centre. By then, the day was already getting on, and after all that travelling in the rain earlier, I was beginning to feel the effects of being out for so many hours.

We finally got home at 5.30pm, feeling thoroughly bushed. And this was despite having done none of the driving! I suppose eight hours of travelling, getting in and out of the vehicle and walking around the various places can take its toll on an old fellow like me. Age is catching up. Even a day spent visiting Buddhist monasteries can feel like a day's work...

PS. Did I mention lunch? No? Well, our lunch was in Bayan Baru, at a restaurant known as Foong Yean, which served fabulous Chinese food. Quite notable were the curry prawns, braised pork and steamed fish. Standard items in their menu, but cooked very well.

Advanced glycation end products

noreply@blogger.com (SS Quah) — Sun, 11 Oct 2026 22:50:00 +0000

Lately, I've been attending more health talks than ever before. Whether this is a good thing or not, I don't know lah. Maybe it's a sign of getting older when health becomes a more frequent topic of conversation. On Friday night, I was at The Old Frees' Association for a session that included constipation and hernia. Yesterday, I was at the Adventist Church in Bukit Mertajam for a talk on kidney health. Some of the slides certainly opened my eyes to a few things.

This wasn't my first visit to the church. In fact, I go there quite often, even though I'm a Buddhist. The church members have been very accommodating to both my wife and me, and we've taken part in some of their activities as well. Religion aside, I've always felt comfortable joining in. I don't see why we shouldn't be able to take part in one another's activities.

The talk included something called Advanced Glycation End Products, or AGEs for short. These are compounds that can form when food is cooked at high temperatures, especially when meat is fried, grilled or roasted. The slides explained how AGEs are associated with inflammation and oxidative stress, which can affect our health, including our kidneys.

We all know that too much fried food isn't good for us, but how often do we think about the way our food is cooked? Dr Kuan suggested steaming, boiling and stewing instead, as these methods generally produce fewer AGEs than high-temperature cooking. Nobody is asking us to give up our favourite fried chicken or roast meat altogether, of course. But perhaps we can make a few changes to the way we prepare our food.

The other advice was very familiar enough: eat more vegetables, fruits, whole grains and beans, and pay attention to our diet. Unfortunately for me, these things are easier said than done. I know that as someone who has to keep an eye on his health, understanding what we should do and actually doing it are two different things.

Anyway, that's another health talk attended and another bit of information picked up along the way. I've certainly been going to more of these talks lately. Whether I'm becoming more health-conscious or simply more aware of the things that can go wrong as we grow older, I'll leave that to my wife to decide.

Constipated

noreply@blogger.com (SS Quah) — Sat, 10 Oct 2026 22:48:00 +0000

I quite enjoyed a medical talk which The Old Frees' Association organised last Friday. Found it quite practical with easy-to-understand information on some common health issues. About 50 to 60 people attended, and we listened to four doctors from Aptus Surgery & Specialist Centre, namely, Dr Ong Hean Teik, Dr Lim Su Sian, Dr Cathy Heng and Dr Sabrina Jane Dass.

One of the segments was Dr Cathy Heng's presentation on the colon, particularly constipation. She began by asking how many people in the audience were constipated and invited us to raise our hands. Only one person responded. I suspect there were others who weren't quite prepared to own up, given that this isn't exactly the sort of subject we normally discuss in public.

But Dr Cathy made the point that constipation isn't simply about whether we pass motion every day. Some people go more than once a day while others may go only a few times a week. What matters is whether this is normal for us and whether we experience difficulty or discomfort. She also reminded us to pay attention to persistent changes in our bowel habits, particularly if accompanied by blood in the stool, unexplained weight loss or other worrying symptoms. These shouldn't be dismissed, as they could be signs of something more serious, including colorectal cancer.

Another point she made was about keeping our colon healthy through sensible eating and regular exercise. Eating more fibre, drinking enough water and staying active are simple measures, but they are easy to neglect in our daily lives. I particularly liked her comparison of exercise to putting money into a savings account. We save for a rainy day, and in much the same way, maintaining our muscles gives us a reserve to draw on when we grow older or when illness or an accident leaves us less active.

It was a useful reminder that looking after our health doesn't always require complicated measures. Sometimes, it begins with paying attention to what our bodies are telling us and doing the ordinary things consistently.

Deaf championship

noreply@blogger.com (SS Quah) — Sat, 10 Oct 2026 06:17:59 +0000

Writing this story was not easy. Initially, I was debating with myself whether to use the word “deaf” or a more politically acceptable term like “hearing impaired”. But then the organisers themselves wanted the event to be called the Asia Pacific Deaf Chess Championship, which was part of a wider Asia Pacific Deaf Multi-sport Championship in Penang. Medals were also being contested in other sports, viz, athletics, badminton, bowling, table tennis and orienteering. So perhaps I had been worrying unnecessarily about being politically incorrect.

It was last December that I first heard about the Asia Pacific Deaf Chess Championship and that it would be held in Penang. Subsequently, the Penang Chess Association was invited to provide the technical expertise needed to make the championship a success. And so, what had initially been just an announcement became a reality this month, with the championship getting under way on 03 October 2026 at the 1st Avenue Mall.

Unfortunately, I wasn't able to make it to the mall to watch the games until the final day of competition. By then, the players had already gone through the individual classical and blitz events, and what remained for me to watch was the final of the rapid mixed team event. So that was where I caught up with the championship, with the teams fighting it out for the medals.

In this mixed team rapid event, India emerged as the champions after beating Kazakhstan in the final to take the gold medal. Malaysia then beat Kuwait to secure the bronze. It was good to see the Malaysian team getting onto the medal podium in an international chess competition, particularly one being held on home ground in Penang.

If there is one Malaysian player who deserves a special mention, it is 14-year-old Leong Ee Hern with his three medals. He won Gold in the individual blitz, Silver in the individual classical event and Bronze in the mixed team rapid. That's quite a haul, and a good achievement for the Malaysian player. Winning a medal in one event is already something to be pleased about, but to collect medals in all three formats is another matter altogether. There was also Yoshni Ramakrishnan who won a Gold in the women's individual classical event. So all in, quite a successful campaign for Malaysia.

For Penang, hosting the championship at the 1st Avenue Mall was yet another opportunity to bring this side of chess to a wider audience. We are accustomed to seeing chess tournaments played in hotels, school halls and other designated venues. A shopping mall offers a different setting, with members of the public having the opportunity to see the games as they go about their usual business.

And so, congratulations to all the medal winners, especially Leong Ee Hern for his Gold, Silver and Bronze. It is always nice to see a Malaysian player doing well, and even better when the competition takes place right here in Penang.

The automatic fuel adjustment factor

noreply@blogger.com (SS Quah) — Fri, 09 Oct 2026 01:46:03 +0000

Most people don't pay much attention to their electricity bills. Or at least, not until something looks unusual. And I'm one of them. Every month, I generally consider my electricity usage to be normal. There will always be some fluctuations, of course, but they don't usually amount to very much. I'm quite happy as long as my monthly bill doesn't exceed RM150, and generally, RM90 to RM100 is about my average.

But yesterday, I attended a talk on ESG and one of the speakers mentioned something that got me wanting to know more. It was a feature on our electricity bills called the Automatic Fuel Adjustment or AFA. Apparently, this has been causing our Tenaga Nasional Berhad (TNB) bills to fluctuate quite a bit this year. So I decided to find out a little more about this AFA thingy.

As I understand it, the AFA is a monthly adjustment determined by the Energy Commission to reflect changes in the cost of fuel used to generate electricity, particularly coal and gas, as well as movements in the US dollar-ringgit exchange rate. When the costs are lower than the standard baseline, consumers get a rebate. When they are higher, we pay a surcharge. The adjustment is calculated according to how much electricity we use. One sen per kWh may not sound like much, but it works out to RM1 for every 100 kWh consumed. For households using a lot more electricity, the difference can become quite noticeable. And this year, the difference has been anything but small.

January 2026 started with an AFA rebate of 4.99 sen per kWh. The rebate gradually became smaller over the following months before disappearing altogether. By May, we were paying a surcharge of 1.38 sen per kWh. Things got worse from there. The surcharge reached 3.80 sen per kWh in August before easing slightly to 3.67 sen in September. That meant September was the fifth consecutive month in which the AFA was a surcharge rather than a rebate.

For a household using 1,200 kWh a month, the difference amounts to quite a lot. In January, the AFA effectively reduced the bill by about RM60. By September, the same amount of electricity attracted an additional RM44. That's a swing of roughly RM104 a month without using a single extra unit of electricity. For those using 800 kWh, the January-to-September difference is about RM69. At 1,800 kWh, it is around RM156, while someone using 3,000 kWh a month would see a difference of roughly RM260.

I am quite fortunate in the sense that my electricity consumption is low enough that I don't have to worry about the AFA surcharge. Under the normal arrangement, domestic users consuming 600 kWh or less a month are exempt from the AFA charge, the RM10 monthly retail charge and the eight per cent service tax. And there's some good news for those using a little more electricity. Following concerns about the rising cost of living, the government has temporarily raised the protection threshold from 600 to 800 kWh a month, covering electricity consumption from 01 September 2026 till December. The move came after Cabinet discussions, partly in response to the hotter weather and haze, which had pushed up electricity consumption in some households.

There's one important detail about this 600 kWh rule, or the temporary 800 kWh rule, that can easily catch people out. If our monthly consumption stays within the applicable threshold, the AFA surcharge is waived. But cross that threshold by even one unit and the AFA applies to all the electricity we use, not just the units above 600 or 800 kWh. So a household that normally stays just below the limit could suddenly find its bill going up quite noticeably in a hotter month, simply because the air-conditioning has been running longer.

For households consuming up to 800 kWh a month, the temporary protection means they are also exempt from the RM10 monthly retail charge and the eight per cent service tax during this period. For those using between 601 and 800 kWh, the savings can amount to roughly RM40 to RM47 a month, depending on consumption.

The good news is that there should be a retrospective adjustment for our September consumption, to be automatically reflected in bills issued from October onwards. And for the remainder of this year, households using up to 800 kWh a month have a little more breathing space. But what happens when the temporary protection expires at the end of December is anyone's guess.

There's another point I learnt from looking into all this. The AFA outlook isn't particularly encouraging either. The latest forecast had suggested that the surcharge would ease to 3.36 sen per kWh in October and 2.81 sen in November, before rising sharply to 5.48 sen in December. The October rate has since been confirmed at 3.61 sen per kWh, slightly higher than forecast. The November and December figures remain projections for now.

Come 1 January 2027, the 800 kWh protection is due to end unless the government decides to extend it. That may be when we find out just how much of a difference this temporary protection has been making to household electricity bills. So, while we may sometimes blame TNB when the bill arrives looking rather unhealthy, the story is a little more complex. Much of the fluctuation has to do with the cost of producing electricity, particularly fuel prices and movements in the ringgit against the US dollar. The continuing conflict in the Middle East hasn't helped matters either, given its impact on global energy markets.

For the moment, at least, households using no more than 800 kWh a month have some welcome protection. But it is only temporary. Perhaps this is a good time for the rest of us to pay a little more attention to our electricity bills, instead of simply paying them every month and assuming that everything is normal. I know I shall be doing that from now on.

The non-missionary English free schools

noreply@blogger.com (SS Quah) — Thu, 08 Oct 2026 12:17:00 +0000

I have always been interested in the early history of the three old English schools in the former Straits Settlements, namely, Penang Free School, Malacca Free School which later became Malacca High School and the Singapore Free School which eventually became Raffles Institution.

They were established at different times in the 19th Century but there is an interesting connection between them. All three came into being at a time when education was not yet really the responsibility of the colonial government. They depended on a mixture of public subscriptions, private benefactors, government assistance and people connected with the Christian missions.

So were these actually mission schools? Penang Free School is probably the easiest place to start. It was founded in 1816 through the efforts of Revd Robert Sparke Hutchings, the Anglican chaplain in Penang. That gives it a Christian connection, but the school was not set up as an Anglican mission school. In fact, the early proposal was quite deliberate about making the school open to children regardless of their religion and about not offending parents who might object to Christian teaching.

The 1817 school report called it a Public Free School, with the school being entrusted to a committee on behalf of the public. The word “free” also did not quite mean what we might assume today. Children who could afford to pay fees did so, while poorer children could be maintained by the school. So while there was a Christian chaplain behind its establishment, the institution itself was intended to be much broader than a church school.

The Malacca Free School, established in 1826, has a somewhat similar story. Its origins can be traced to a proposal in 1825 by trustees of various charitable funds in Malacca to establish a good English school which would be free for poor children. James Humphrey, the superintendent of the London Missionary Society, was among those involved, while Thomas H Moore who became its first master had also been connected with the missionary educational world.

The school eventually opened in the Parsonage House (building on the left in the above picture. On the right is Christ Church) with 18 pupils. Interestingly, it was not simply an English school. There were Portuguese, Chinese and Malay classes as well, with children initially being taught in their own languages before progressing in English. Again, there was a missionary connection, but the school was run by trustees and supported from several sources rather than being simply a missionary institution. It remained the Malacca Free School until the trustees eventually handed it over to the government, which took over in 1878 and renamed it Malacca High School.

In Singapore, the story gets a little more complicated. Stamford Raffles had the idea for an educational institution almost from the beginning of the British settlement. In 1823 he worked with the Presbyterian missionary Robert Morrison who was already running the Anglo-Chinese College in Malacca. There was even a proposal to transfer the Anglo-Chinese College from Malacca to Singapore and incorporate it into Raffles' new institution. But that never happened.

The original Singapore Institution building was started in 1823 but the project more or less went no-where for several years. It was only when the Singapore Free School moved into the completed building in December 1837 that things began to take shape. The school then became the Singapore Institution Free School in 1838 and eventually evolved into Raffles Institution.

But if these three schools were not really mission schools in the strict sense, it doesn't mean that there weren't any. Certainly, there were proper mission schools in all three settlements.

In Malacca, for example, there was the Anglo-Chinese College, founded in 1818 by the Protestant missionaries Robert Morrison and William Milne. That was very much a missionary institution. Morrison had envisaged it as a place where Chinese and European learning could be brought together and the college became an important centre of Protestant missionary education in the region. It remained in Malacca until 1843, when it was moved to Hong Kong.

Malacca later acquired its Catholic mission schools. St Mary's School was established in 1872 and in 1880 moved to larger premises and became St Francis School. The La Salle Brothers eventually took it over and it became St Francis Institution. It was once even described as a French mission school.

Penang likewise had its proper mission schools. The best-known is St Xavier's Institution which began in 1852 when the La Salle Brothers arrived in Penang. Unlike Penang Free School, this school was established by a religious order and part of the Brothers' missionary educational work.

Meanwhile in Singapore, there was St Margaret's School, founded in 1842 by Maria Dyer of the London Missionary Society to provide a home and education for girls who were at risk of being sold as bonded domestic servants. It began in a small shophouse and was very much a missionary undertaking.

Then came the Catholic schools. In 1852 the De La Salle Brothers established St John's School, which became St Joseph's Institution, while the Sisters of the Holy Infant Jesus established their first convent school in Singapore in 1854. And, of course, Anglo-Chinese School came along in 1886, founded by Methodist missionary William Fitzjames Oldham with just 13 boys in a shophouse.

So, looking at the three settlements side by side, I think there is a useful distinction to be made. Penang Free School, Malacca Free School and Singapore Institution/Raffles Institution were among the earliest attempts to provide a broader form of English education in the Straits Settlements. They had Christian and missionary connections in their early years but they were not quite the same thing as schools purposefully established and run by a church or religious order.

Alongside them, a proper network of mission schools gradually developed: Anglo-Chinese College in Malacca, St Xavier's in Penang, St Margaret's, St Joseph's and later Anglo-Chinese School in Singapore, together with the various convent schools.

Modern writers with a particular leaning towards the mission-school tradition still tend to put all the old English schools into the same basket and call them “mission schools”. But back in the 19th century, there was a difference between a Free School with missionary involvement and a mission school actually established by missionaries. And when the three settlements are looked at together, I think that difference becomes fairly clear.

#penangfreeschool #malaccahighschool #rafflesinstitution

Tan Heng Swee, 1945-2026

noreply@blogger.com (SS Quah) — Wed, 07 Oct 2026 02:20:25 +0000

Well, today I just want to say that one of my friends from The Old Frees' Association passed away late on Monday night, on the very day of his 81st birthday. Tan Heng Swee died at the Sungai Bakap Hospital, more than two weeks after he had fallen down in his house for the very last time.

Although we were both OFA members, I didn't actually get to know Heng Swee until 2010. We were among those who attended the state funeral of Dr Lim Chong Eu. We got talking and somehow, the friendship grew from there. When I was hospitalised in 2013, Heng Swee was among the first people to come and visit me. I remember that very well and appreciated it a lot.

Ever since the death of his wife, Alice, three years ago, I had watched his health steadily decline. In the last year or so, he had become so frail that even a walking stick was no longer much help. He kept falling down, sometimes repeatedly, although fortunately he never suffered any serious injury apart from the bruises. There were times when he told me that he had been lying on the floor for hours before he finally found the strength to get himself up.

I can write so much about him in the last years of his life because I had been visiting him almost every week, always carrying a bag of eggs to supplement his diet. So at least I was seeing him with some regularity, albeit only for a few minutes, and could keep an eye on how he was doing. It was probably the least I could do.

I kept telling him that something had to change, like getting himself a full-time live-in maid. But he steadfastly refused. He had a helper who came in once or twice a week, but that was obviously never going to be enough for someone who was falling down as often as he was.

His refusal had a lot to do with his stubbornness, and anyone who had known Heng Swee for any length of time would know what I mean. He was very loyal to his Old Frees friends and believed that he could always depend on us when he needed help. What he never seemed willing to accept was that there was only so much we could do.

All of his Old Frees friends lived far away from his house in Simpang Ampat and, besides, most of us are more or less his age. We're all getting on in years ourselves and beginning to have our own physical difficulties. Expecting one of us to rush over and lift up a grown man who had fallen on the floor was simply not realistic. But these were realities that Heng Swee chose to ignore.

As an alternative, I even suggested that he should call his neighbours if he ever got into trouble. They were so much nearer than any of us and you never know when you might need their help one day. I tried explaining to him that, as we grow older, perhaps we should become a little more accommodating. But Heng Swee was stubborn right to the end. Unfortunately, it also left him rather lonely.

And yet, despite all the challenges, he was my friend. I had known him for many years and I shall miss him. Strangely enough, I am also relieved that his struggles are now over. At least he no longer has to worry about falling down, lying helpless on the floor or trying to get himself back on his feet. Goodbye, Heng Swee. I shall miss you for the friendship we shared.

More today than yesterday

noreply@blogger.com (SS Quah) — Tue, 06 Oct 2026 02:21:13 +0000

I was going through some of my old records today when I spotted an album that I hadn't played for quite some time. It was More Today Than Yesterday by The Spiral Starecase. I pulled it out of my collection, put the record on the turntable and let the music take me back to the late 1960s. I knew the title song, of course. More Today Than Yesterday was one of those songs that was everywhere when I was younger. But although I remembered the song quite well, I realised that I knew very little about the group that recorded it. So, with the album playing in the background, I started looking them up.

It turned out that The Spiral Starecase had quite an interesting story. The group began life in 1964 as The Fydallions, a four-piece instrumental band formed by Air Force servicemen in Sacramento, California, for a talent contest on their base. They eventually expanded to five members, with Pat Upton on vocals and guitar, Harvey Kaye on organ, Dick Lopes on saxophone, Bobby Raymond on bass and Vinny Parello on drums. After leaving the Air Force, they headed for Las Vegas and spent several years playing long lounge sets there and gradually developing their sound.

When Columbia Records became interested in them in 1967, the record company wanted something a little more suitable. The musicians chose The Spiral Starecase, taking the name from the 1946 film The Spiral Staircase. But they deliberately changed the spelling to “Starecase”. I suppose they wanted to be different, although I wonder how many people who bought their records ever noticed the spelling.

They signed with Columbia in 1967 and released a few singles, but none made much of an impact. Their fortunes changed when Columbia's A&R man Gary Usher encouraged Pat Upton to write some original material. While the group was performing in Las Vegas, Upton wrote More Today Than Yesterday. The song was released in early 1969 and suddenly everything changed.

It became a sizeable hit on the Billboard Hot 100 and the Cash Box charts. For a group that had spent years playing lounges, this must have been quite a transformation. One moment they were working their way through long sets in Las Vegas and the next they were appearing on the national charts.

The album followed in 1969, also titled More Today Than Yesterday. There were original songs alongside covers such as Proud Mary and For Once in My Life. The Spiral Starecase had a fairly distinctive sound, with the horns and organ giving the music that bright, almost sunshine-pop quality, while Pat Upton's voice gave it a soulful edge.

The group had a few follow-up singles, including She's Ready and No One for Me to Turn To, but none came close to repeating the success of More Today Than Yesterday. In fact, their period in the limelight was brief. Less than two years after their breakthrough, The Spiral Starecase had broken up. And yet, the song has survived all these years.

I'm rather glad that I pulled this old album out of my collection today. I had only intended to listen to a song I remembered from my younger days, but ended up finding out a little more about the five musicians who recorded it. The album is back on my shelf now. But I don't think I'll leave it there for another 50 years. And there are quite a lot more old records in my collection that deserve another spin.

PFS heritage walk

noreply@blogger.com (SS Quah) — Mon, 05 Oct 2026 04:02:28 +0000

Let me begin with some irrelevance. I was just thinking that, since the oldest participant in our Penang Free School heritage walk last Saturday entered Form One in 1956, there must have been at least 50,000 students who had walked through the gates of the old school over the past 70 years. Just an estimate, mind you, because it is a number that no one can easily verify. So I plucked it from the air.

Then I considered that with the 30 participants who turned up for the heritage walk, they constituted only 0.06% of those 50,000 Old Frees. My devious mind then thought, wow, the other 99.94% of Old Frees must already know everything about their old school, and that's why they weren't interested in this activity at all. 😁

Anyway, Siang Jin and I concluded that even with only these 30 participants, the heritage walk was still a great success. Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves thoroughly. Some had not returned to the Free School for a very long time, so for them it really was a walk down memory lane.

We began in one of the classrooms where we introduced the participants to the Free School Guide and explained how it came about. Although we usually trace its beginnings to the school's Bicentenary celebrations in 2016, the seed was actually sown a year earlier when Lean Kang, a former Prefect of the Free School like Siang Jin, was the organising chairman of the 150th anniversary dinner of the school's Prefects' Board. He had, at some point, taken a peek into the Prefects' Room and wasn't particularly impressed with what he saw.

Funds raised from that dinner went towards improving the Prefects' Room, among other things. Both of them then channelled the excess funds towards organising a series of exclusive student leadership workshops for the Prefects and other potential student leaders from 2017 until 2024. Myself and one or two others were invited to assist. We had Tan Soo Choon as our bedrock trainer until his untimely demise at the start of the Covid-19 pandemic. He is still greatly missed. Somewhere along the way, Siang Jin realised that nobody was going to read Let the Aisles Proclaim, my 350-page book on the school's 200-year history, and we decided that perhaps we should do something more manageable. So we took the information from the book and turned it into 10 short videos.

We asked some of our schoolmates from the Class of 1970 (Form Five) to get involved, and they responded enthusiastically. This is perhaps an appropriate time to mention Teik Wah who did the voiceover admirably, Chei Jin lent his voice to the School Rally and the main man behind the video productions, Kumaraveloo. That was in 2019. Then, in 2024, Siang Jin and I worked on the Free School Guide itself, an interactive mobile app that would allow people to access information about the school from anywhere in the world. In a way, the student leadership workshops, the videos and eventually the Free School Guide were our own small way of giving something back to society. We had benefited from our years at the Free School, so what better way to give something back than to contribute to the school itself and to the students who would come after us? That, in a nutshell, was how it all started.

Then came the shock about two months ago when we learnt that the PFS210Years organising committee had suddenly announced a PFS heritage walk through the school grounds on the morning of the third of October. This caught us completely by surprise because we hadn't been informed of any such plan. Ivan Ooi, the organising committee chairman, subsequently spoke to Siang Jin about it and the two of us decided to chip in and help. At the very least, we had to defend our turf and make sure that whatever was told to the participants would be based on correct information and not hearsay. But the fact that the organisers announced the event without consulting us was not quite right. A fait accompli for them, perhaps, but it was boh sui.

We anticipated that perhaps 70 to 100 people might register for the walk, but in retrospect, the 30 participants turned out to be quite a comfortable number. We could take our time and everyone seemed to enjoy themselves. After the introduction, we proceeded to the Pinhorn Hall which I have always considered to be the soul of the school. My main focus there was on the wall plaques, where I explained the story behind the donors who had contributed towards the construction of the former Penang Free School building in Farquhar Street, now occupied by the Penang State Museum. Their names are permanently etched on three marble plaques there.

When the present school building was completed in 1927 and the school moved into these premises on 9 January 1928, the same donors' names were reproduced on a wooden plaque and mounted in the space above the main entrance to the school hall. Very few people today know about its significance. Most visitors tend to concentrate instead on the plaques bearing the names of the Head Boys, the Queen's Scholars and the Headmasters. I thought it was worth bringing this little piece of the school's history back into the picture.

From Pinhorn Hall, we took a short walk to the Archives building, which had already been opened up for the visitors. For many of the participants, this was the first time they had even realised that the Archives rooms existed, let alone stepped inside them. I could only manage a preliminary explanation because everyone seemed much more engrossed in exploring the rooms for themselves, which was probably a good thing. After all, an archive is something you really should be allowed to poke around in rather than simply have someone standing there telling you what you're looking at.

Eventually, we returned to the classroom for a quiz and, after that, called it a day with a fairly robust singing of the School Rally. Thirty people may have been only 0.06% of my rather fanciful estimate of 50,000 Old Frees, but judging from the enthusiasm in the room, I don't think we needed the other 99.94% to make the morning worthwhile.

PS. There was a special dinner at the school on the same night to commemorate the 210th anniversary, but I did not attend because I had a prior appointment elsewhere. For me, the next significant events will now be on the 21st of October itself. The traditional visit to Robert Sparke Hutchings' grave in the morning followed by The Old Frees' Association's annual dinner in the evening.

Digital transformation

noreply@blogger.com (SS Quah) — Thu, 01 Oct 2026 22:45:00 +0000

There is something about October that excites me every year, and it always revolves around Penang Free School. When October comes around, there is usually the school's Speech Day, or Founder's Day, which followed the visit to Robert Sparke Hutchings' grave on the morning of the 21st of October. Then, in the evening, there is the annual dinner of The Old Frees' Association that I look forward to.

This year, Speech Day was brought forward to the first of October because of clashes with the examination dates. Last year, it was also held earlier, that time because of its proximity to Deepavali when the school took a break. And there have been quite a few such instances in the school's long history. So, while most Old Frees would probably like to see Speech Day held on the 21st of October every year, it is obviously not quite etched in stone.

I almost missed this year's Speech Day because I was given the impression that it would be open only to those who had contributed to the school's Digital Transformation Fund. But what the heck, I thought to myself. Nobody's going to stop this Old Free from attending Speech Day, fund or no fund. I have attended every Speech Day since 2012 and I wasn't going to break my consistency. So there I was at 8am on the first of the month, walking into the school hall and immediately being greeted by familiar faces from The Old Frees' Association. I was right to attend after all. There was no such restriction. A miscommunication, if ever there was one.

One of the first people I bumped into was Danny Quah. I would consider him a cheen-lang, as his forefathers had migrated from the same locality in Amoy as my ancestors. Danny was there as the Old Free invited to address the school.

This was also the first time the new Penang Governor, Ramli Ngah Talib, attended Penang Free School Speech Day as Guest of Honour. Traditionally, the Governor attends the school's Speech Day every year, a tradition that harks back to the days before Independence when the Resident Councillor Penang would attend the school's annual Speech Day on the Government's behalf. After Independence, it fell upon the Penang Governor to continue with this tradition. Thus, Ramli Ngah Talib is the latest in our long list of Penang Governors to fulfil this role. 👍

This year's Speech Day was, of course, part of the celebrations for the school's 210th anniversary, and Ivan Ooi, president of the Penang Free School Foundation and organising chairman of the PFS 210 Years celebration committee, reminded Old Frees that an anniversary was not just about looking back. It was also about thinking about what we would leave behind for future generations.

While the traditions and character of the school must be preserved, he said, the school also has to prepare its students for a very different world shaped by artificial intelligence, robotics, data science and other digital technologies. That was where the Penang Free School Digital Transformation Fund came in. Supporting the fund, he said, was not simply about buying technology but about creating opportunities for the next generation of Frees. After all, the school had given us an education, friendships, discipline, confidence and character. Now it was our turn to give something back.

Danny's speech took a rather different tack. Having left Penang Free School in 1976, he began by calling himself a relic and reflected on how much the world had changed in those 50 years. His generation (and obviously mine too as we are only three of four years apart in age) had slide rules, black-and-white television, rotary phones, handwritten letters and examination papers passed down by seniors. We waited for buses, waited for replies to letters and quite often got lost. There was no mobile phone to keep track of where we were and much of our lives left no digital record.

The 1976 Free lived with "unreachability, waiting, uncertainty, shared scarcity, and forgetting", while the 2026 Free lives with "instant knowledge, continuous connection, digital identity, machine intelligence, and collapsed distance".

But Danny was not suggesting that life was better in our day. Today's young people may have more information than they know what to do with, but they also have to navigate deepfakes, misinformation and algorithmic feeds while dealing with much bigger problems such as climate change, geopolitical conflict and the uncertainties brought about by AI.

Yet his message was ultimately an optimistic one. Today's Frees also have access to tools that our generation could never have imagined: almost unlimited knowledge, global communities and the ability to learn, create, publish and build things from almost anywhere.

In other words, today's young people may have inherited bigger problems than we did, but they have also inherited much more powerful tools with which to tackle them. Fifty years ago, our generation walked out of Penang Free School into our world. Now it is the turn of today's Frees. "Go out and make your world a better world," was his parting advice.

Quiet presence, but powerful

noreply@blogger.com (SS Quah) — Sun, 27 Sep 2026 22:58:00 +0000

I was pleased to see Uzbekistan win the Open section of the 46th Chess Olympiad in Samarkand yesterday. It was rather appropriate that the Uzbek team won the gold medal on home soil, especially considering the remarkable crop of young players the country has produced in recent years.

The five members of the team were Nodirbek Abdusattorov, Javokhir Sindarov, Nodirbek Yakubboev, Shamsiddin Vokhidov and Mukhiddin Madaminov. An exceptionally talented bunch, led by Sindarov and Abdusattorov, both still very young by any normal measure of things. Sindarov is only 21 and Abdusattorov 22, yet both have already established themselves among the world's strongest players.

But as I watched the matches over the past couple of weeks, I found myself noticing somebody vaguely familiar who wasn't actually playing. Didn't really recognised him at first, but there he was, Rustam Kasimdzhanov, the team's non-playing captain.

It was in 1998 that I first met Kasimdzhanov. He was just 19 years old and playing for Tashkent in the Asian Cities Team Chess Championship at Genting Highlands. I remember him because he spoke excellent English. He was already a grandmaster then, but of course nobody knew what the future held for this young Uzbek player.

I happened to be involved in that tournament as an arbiter, so I saw him around the event. Six years later, he would become FIDE World Champion. He subsequently went on to become a highly respected coach and second, working with players such as Viswanathan Anand and Fabiano Caruana in their world championship campaigns.

Now, nearly three decades after I first saw him in Genting, here he was again, this time supporting a new generation of Uzbek players. During the Olympiad, he was constantly around. He was there from the beginning of the rounds and when the games were over, he was still there. When one of his players won, he was there to congratulate him. When one of them suffered an occasional loss, he was there to offer some consolation.

He wasn't doing anything dramatic and for the most part, he wasn't the person the cameras were looking for. The attention naturally belonged to the four players sitting at the boards. They were the ones winning the games and collecting the points. But Kasimdzhanov provided the quiet, steady presence behind them.

I thought that was quite important in a team competition like the Chess Olympiad. These young players may be tremendously strong, but they are still playing 11 demanding rounds under considerable pressure. There will inevitably be good days and bad days, and having somebody with Kasimdzhanov's experience around throughout the tournament must have been useful, even if much of what he did would never show up in the tournament statistics.

And there was something quite nice about it for me. In 1998, I was watching an 19-year-old Kasimdzhanov playing first board for Tashkent. Yesterday, I was watching a 47-year-old man on the other side of the chessboard, so to speak, helping Uzbekistan's latest generation of young stars win the Olympiad.

The players received all the attention after their victory in Samarkand, but there was also the quiet man who had been with them throughout the journey, and whom not many people noticed. Perhaps after nearly 30 years in top-level chess, Kasimdzhanov knows that sometimes the most useful thing you can do is simply to be there when it matters.

PFS heritage walkabout

noreply@blogger.com (SS Quah) — Sat, 26 Sep 2026 03:45:09 +0000

Calling all Old Frees...

If you are free on 03 October 2026, come join the PFS Heritage Walkabout & Quiz from 9:30am to noon at your alma mater, Penang Free School. There are cash prizes to be won.

Register via this form: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSeXes6eH3bbD2oir_xdL0-NRxCQoUB4lv0ilZPMXVMPD0Binw/viewform

The quiz is based on the Free School Guide. Download it via this link: https://mega.nz/file/DexgVRyD#BIXEhVptqHrwwxlpZLK_7lHLnJQBqNdk7XVA1ijBtUI

Celebrating the mid-autumn festival

noreply@blogger.com (SS Quah) — Thu, 24 Sep 2026 22:02:00 +0000

With today being the 15th day of the Chinese eighth lunar month, I started thinking about what we in Penang actually call it. In English, there are two names commonly used: Mid-Autumn Festival and Mooncake Festival. But when I was growing up hearing, speaking and breathing Penang Hokkien, there was yet another name that sounded more familiar: pek-gueh chap-goh. That is how many of us first knew the festival: not by its formal Chinese name, 中秋节, or by the English name "Mid-Autumn Festival", but simply as pek-gueh chap-goh.

So which name should be used? There isn't really a rule saying that one must be used and the others avoided. "Mooncake Festival" is perfectly familiar in Malaysia, Singapore and among Chinese communities elsewhere.

But if I had to choose one in English, I'd still go with Mid-Autumn Festival. The reason is quite straightforward. The Hokkien name is 中秋节 (Tiong-chhiu chek). Tiong-chhiu means "mid-autumn" and chek means festival. So the literal translation is Mid-Autumn Festival. There is another Penang Hokkien expression that is worth mentioning here. The mooncake itself is known as tiong-chhiu pneah, literally the "mid-autumn pastry" or biscuit. So there is a nice connection between tiong-chhiu chek, the Mid-Autumn Festival, and tiong-chhiu pneah, the mooncake we associate so closely with it.

"Mooncake Festival", on the other hand, is a popular name that has developed from one of the customs associated with the occasion, but it does make the festival sound as though it revolves around a particular pastry.

However, there is considerably more to it than that. The festival falls on the 15th day of the eighth month of the Chinese lunar calendar when the moon is traditionally regarded as being at its fullest and brightest. It is closely associated with the autumn harvest, the full moon and families gathering together.

There are also lanterns, moon gazing, poetry and the familiar stories connected with the moon, particularly the tale of Chang'e. Different parts of the Chinese-speaking world have their own customs and foods too. In some places, pomelos and osmanthus feature prominently.

Here in Penang, we have our own particular way of celebrating. Lanterns are still a familiar sight, especially where children are involved, while mooncakes come in an a confusing variety of flavours. Traditional lotus paste and salted egg yolk still have their followers, but these days we're also seen everything from durian and chocolate to artificial flavours. All sorts of combinations that our grandparents would probably eye with some suspicion.

And then there is the packaging. Mooncakes have become big business. Every year the boxes seem to become more elaborate, more expensive and, occasionally, considerably more impressive than the mooncakes inside them. Hotels, restaurants and bakeries compete to come up with new flavours and presentation, while companies send them out as corporate gifts.

This is another reason why I prefer the name Mid-Autumn Festival. "Mooncake Festival" puts the emphasis rather heavily on the commercial and culinary side of things. It is a bit like calling Christmas the English Pudding Festival. The pudding may be an important part of Christmas, but it doesn't really tell us what Christmas is about.

Still, I can understand why "Mooncake Festival" has caught on, particularly in Malaysia and Singapore. It is simple, catchy and immediately gives people an idea of what the festival involves. If someone unfamiliar with Chinese customs hears "Mooncake Festival", they at least know what to look out for.

So I'm not suggesting that we should start correcting people every time they say "Mooncake Festival". That would be taking things rather too seriously. For me, though, Mid-Autumn Festival feels more appropriate because it describes the occasion rather than the food.

And perhaps pek-gueh chap-goh is the most Penang way of looking at it. It doesn't even try to explain the festival. It simply tells us when it happens. Those words would have been enough for an older generation of Penang Hokkiens to know exactly what you were talking about.

Which brings me back to the question of what we should call it. Mid-Autumn Festival, Mooncake Festival or pek-gueh chap-goh? Perhaps all three are perfectly valid, depending on who you're talking to. But when I look up at the full moon, I'd still rather think of it as the Mid-Autumn Festival. The moon, after all, was there long before the mooncakes.

A little Cameron break

noreply@blogger.com (SS Quah) — Wed, 23 Sep 2026 14:21:51 +0000

I haven't done a long-distance drive for quite some time. If I want to go to Kuala Lumpur, for instance, my go-to mode of transport nowadays is the ETS train service which KTMB introduced in 2014. So, the furthest I have probably driven in recent years is Taiping. A few days ago, friends invited us to stay at their apartment in Cameron Highlands and we jumped at the opportunity. But there was a nagging doubt at the back of my mind about whether a much older me could still manage a long drive. After all, getting up to Tanah Rata, one of the three main towns in Cameron Highlands, would take about four hours, and possibly longer if we ran into traffic jams in the highlands.

Well, I did manage it and arrived in Cameron Highlands to a wet, windy and rather cold afternoon. Temperatures had dropped to 16°C or even lower overnight during the previous week, which was something we hadn't experienced in any of our recent visits. It brought back memories of Cameron Highlands in the 1970s and 1980s, when there was much less development and therefore far fewer people around. Perhaps that was why it seemed so much colder then. But for this trip, it was fortunate that we had come prepared with thicker clothing.

This was a very free-and-easy three days for us. We weren't interested in visiting the lavender farms or strawberry farms, or any of the usual tourist attractions in the highlands. Neither did we make the trip to Brinchang for food. In fact, the furthest we ventured was the Tanah Rata town centre, where we had all our meals.

I was pleasantly surprised to discover that the restaurants there served very good Indian food, or at least the two we tried did. Singh Capati Urban Restaurant served a remarkable range of Punjabi dishes and I really can't praise them enough. The masala thosai at Highland Spice Restaurant was better than any I've eaten in Penang. While walking along the main street, we came across Cameron AA Curry House, only to discover that it had closed since we last ate there about a year ago. It was a little sad to see a familiar place gone.

We had a black pepper steak at Rosette Cafe and were impressed with how well it was prepared. The meat was soft and tender, just the way I like it. One morning we had braised pork knuckle koay teow at Hui Wei Restaurant and, of course, no trip to Cameron Highlands would be complete without scones and cheesecake at The Lord's Cafe.

All too soon, our three days were up and it was time to head home. Before leaving, though, we took a quick drive around Tanah Rata. It wasn't really planned, but somehow that little drive ended with us having scones and a spot of English tea at the old Smokehouse Hotel. We hadn't been there for more than 30 years, so it was a pleasure walking around the grounds and exploring the hotel interior again. It brought back memories of another old hotel we had stayed in, the Red Lion Inn in Dittisham, and for a little while, we were quite happy just to be there and take in the surroundings before finally making our way home.

Old Bukit Mertajam

noreply@blogger.com (SS Quah) — Tue, 15 Sep 2026 22:48:00 +0000

I came across these pictures of old Bukit Mertajam on Facebook. Old in the sense that they could have been taken in the 1960s or 1970s, or even the 1980s, and they certainly captured that laid-back look of a typical old town in Malaysia. This location happened to be Bukit Mertajam, where I now live, although the places in these pictures are a few kilometres away from where I stay.

The first picture shows Danby Road, with the shophouses on the left then occupied by Malayan Banking. What I noticed was the petrol station on the right side of the road, which I had completely forgotten about. It's now gone, and I suspect most people have completely forgotten that it was ever there! Only this picture remains to remind us that there was once a petrol station along this stretch of road. Really, familiar places can change so much over the years that things which were once part of the everyday landscape simply disappear from memory.

However, I still do remember the stretch of three old houses seen at the end of this road. Those are along Station Road, by the way, where Danby Road meets Station Road. Two doors away from the left-hand unit was Mun Kee Restaurant, which sold a very delicious tua pau, or dumpling. I used to stop by the restaurant early on Friday mornings to buy some before proceeding to work.

The second picture is Station Road itself, which was named because the old Malayan Railway station stood at the end of the road. It was an important station in those days, with trains from the north and south converging here before continuing on to Butterworth. I remember coming to this station quite often in the 2000s, before the railway was electrified, to catch the night train to Kuala Lumpur. I also remember arriving back here in the wee hours of the morning after the journey home. The station has since been relocated to Permatang Rawa, and the old station building was eventually demolished, with nothing replacing it. Another little piece of Bukit Mertajam's history disappeared.

And the third picture looks down the old Kulim Road. The rows of buildings on the right are steadily being demolished in the name of progress, although I noticed that at least one stretch has been restored. I suspect it may soon become a row of modern eateries, which seems to be the fate of many old shophouses these days.

These photographs are a reflection of Bukit Mertajam in the lazy, old days. Not only the buildings but the pace of life they represented. There was nothing particularly remarkable happening in these pictures. Just everyday life with roads, shops, a petrol station and a railway station, all looking as though they had plenty of time on their hands. Yet that was Bukit Mertajam once. But the town has changed quite a bit since the turn of the millennium, even if some of us who live here today hardly noticed it happening.

The boxer

noreply@blogger.com (SS Quah) — Sun, 13 Sep 2026 22:26:00 +0000

I've been back from Kuala Lumpur for several days now and while trying to settle back into my normal routine, I bumped into an old YouTube video of Paul Simon performing The Boxer at a live show in Paris. I've known this song for most of my life, of course. The original Simon and Garfunkel recording has been with us since 1969 and I must have listened to it countless times over the years. But this particular performance impressed me tremendously. Paul Simon was no longer the young man who wrote the song, but there he was, guitar in hand, performing it with such ease and confidence that I found myself listening to it several times.

There was a simplicity about it all. The original recording of The Boxer was a magnificent piece of studio work but here was Simon performing the song live with his guitar, and somehow it worked just as well. Perhaps even better, with the warmth, maturity and intimacy that came through in the performance.

Of course, once I had started listening to The Boxer, it was only a matter of time before I found myself going back to Bridge Over Troubled Water. One song led to another, and before I knew it, I had spent an hour wandering through music that I hadn't properly listened to for years.

Bridge Over Troubled Water was released in January 1970 and was Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel's fifth studio album. It was also their last. The record went on to become one of the most successful albums of all time, winning six Grammy Awards the following year, including Album of the Year. Yet, behind the scenes, things were becoming increasingly difficult between the two men.

Simon and Garfunkel had been together, in one form or another, since their schooldays. By the late 1960s, however, their relationship had become strained. Art Garfunkel had also begun pursuing an acting career and was away filming Catch-22 while work was still continuing on the album. The recording itself took almost two years, and I can only imagine the difficulties involved in putting everything together when one half of the partnership was increasingly occupied elsewhere.

What eventually emerged was quite unlike the Simon and Garfunkel of their earlier folk days. Bridge Over Troubled Water was a varied album. The title song had its gospel flavour, El Cóndor Pasa took them into the world of Andean music, Cecilia was infectious pop, while Keep the Customer Satisfied went off in yet another musical direction. Paul Simon was clearly stretching himself as a songwriter and exploring a wider range of musical styles.

And then there was The Boxer, which had actually been recorded earlier and released as a single in 1969 before being included on the album. It was Paul Simon's song, written at a time when he himself was apparently feeling rather battered by criticism from the music press. The story of the lonely young man struggling to survive in New York has always seemed rather personal, even if Simon himself may not have intended it to be read as autobiography.

But watching Paul Simon in that YouTube video made me realise that after Simon and Garfunkel went their separate ways, The Boxer continued to live on in Simon's own concerts. He had written it and sung the lead vocal on the original recording, while Garfunkel supplied the beautiful harmonies, but over the years it became a song that Simon kept returning to.

Perhaps that is why the Paris performance impressed me. Here was a song written by a young Paul Simon about a young man being knocked about by life and refusing to give up. Decades later, Simon was still singing it, but the years had indeed rolled by. The song was the same, but the man singing it was older, just like me.

I suppose that comes from revisiting music from our younger days. The songs haven't changed, but we have. We hear things differently and perhaps understand them differently too. When Bridge Over Troubled Water was released in 1970, I was simply enjoying their music, not caring that this would be their final studio album together. All I knew was that they had produced some wonderful songs. And more than half a century later, The Boxer pops up on my YouTube, Paul Simon is performing it in Paris, and there I am again, being taken all the way back to Bridge Over Troubled Water.

Chowrasta market

noreply@blogger.com (SS Quah) — Fri, 11 Sep 2026 22:55:00 +0000

Since I had already written about the origins of the Penang Bazaar building some time ago, I thought it was time for me to turn my sights on Chowrasta Market, which is another old Penang landmark a little further up Penang Road.

The building we see today is actually more than 60 years old. It was reopened in November 1964 after the old market (see picture) was replaced at a cost of $1.5 million. I do remember seeing this old market building when I was younger, although I can't remember ever going inside it. Maybe I did. Then one day that old building was gone and another had replaced it.

Chowrasta itself goes back much further than the present building. The area around Penang Road, Tamil Street and Chowrasta Road had long been associated with the Indian community in George Town. The early settlement here was closely connected with people from the Malabar coast of India, which explains the name of nearby Kampung Malabar. Malabar was then part of the Madras Presidency under British India and later became part of Kerala after Indian independence.

According to local accounts, Chowrasta Market was started by the Malabari people who had settled in this part of George Town during the early days of the settlement of Prince of Wales Island. As the community grew, so did the trading activities around the area. What eventually became Chowrasta Market started as a busy open-air trading area where people bought and sold everyday necessities. There were vegetables, fruits, fish, meat and other foodstuffs, with traders and customers coming and going throughout the day. By 1890, the municipal authorities had built a permanent market to serve the growing population.

The market eventually became known simply as Chowrasta, a name generally understood to come from the Indian subcontinent and associated with a crossroads or four-way junction. Roads, people and businesses converged there, and over the years Chowrasta became one of those places where different communities rubbed shoulders with one another.

My mother's generation, however, had another name for the place. They referred to it as Kelinga Bansan. I should perhaps explain that, because I know some people outside Penang may immediately regard the word “Keling” as derogatory. That is not how I remember it being used in Penang, particularly by the older generation. It was simply a familiar term for people of South Indian origin and was used matter-of-factly in everyday speech. In fact, the old Penang Hokkien name for the Chowrasta area, Kelinga Bansan, is recorded as meaning “South Indian Market”.

There is plenty of historical evidence for this older usage. The word Keling appears in classical Malay literature and historical records going back centuries, where it was used to refer to India or people from South India without the derogatory meaning that it can carry today. Even in early Penang, Kapitan Keling was the title given to the leader of the South Indian community, and the name survives in the Kapitan Keling Mosque.

So, when my mother's generation called the place Kelinga Bansan, they weren't using the word as a racial insult. They were using an old Penang term that had been part of the local vocabulary for generations. Of course, words change with time and I recognise that Keling is regarded as offensive in many contexts today. But I don't think we should automatically impose today's meaning on an old Penang name without understanding the historical context in which it was used.

That brings back another memory for me. I once had an Indian Muslim friend named Mohd Noor, a classmate from both our primary and secondary school days. He grew up in Tamil Street, right in the heart of that old neighbourhood. Later in life he went into the food business and built up a successful nasi kandar restaurant business. We lost touch over the years but reconnected in the decade before the Penang Free School Bicentenary in 2016. Sadly, he died an untimely death a year later. Another old friend and fellow chess player, Jimmy Liew, also has a Chowrasta connection. His parents used to run a Chinese medicinal hall in Chowrasta Road, so his family too was part of the community around the market. These are the sort of personal connections that make an old place come alive for me.

The market in those days was a very lively place. It was crowded and full of activity. Traditional markets were not merely places where people went to buy something and then hurried home. They were meeting places as much as shopping places. People knew the traders, chatted with their neighbours, exchanged news and generally knew what was going on in the community.

Chowrasta eventually became well known for more than just its wet market. The market and the shops around it developed a reputation for preserved fruits, nutmeg products, dried goods, Chinese medicinal halls, traditional biscuits and various local food products. And then there were the second-hand bookshops that came later and which became something of an institution in their own right. Generations of students, book lovers and collectors have wandered through them looking for something interesting, useful or perhaps simply unexpected.

By the early 1960s, the old market had evidently seen better days and a new building was constructed to replace it. When the new Chowrasta Market was reopened in November 1964, it had cost $1.5 million to build. That was a considerable sum of money in those days, and the building we see today has therefore been part of the Penang landscape for more than six decades.

The market has changed again in more recent years. Like many traditional markets, it has faced competition from supermarkets, shopping malls and changing shopping habits. The building itself also needed upgrading. Renovation works were carried out between 2013 and 2017 with the intention of improving the facilities while keeping the market's traditional function alive.

Today, Chowrasta sits comfortably within George Town's UNESCO World Heritage Site. It remains a working market rather than a museum. We can still buy fresh food there, while outside the market are stalls selling all sorts of things. The second-hand bookshops remain part of its identity too. Even today, Chowrasta continues to be described as a bustling market and an important part of George Town's living heritage.

But the atmosphere inside the market isn't quite what it used to be. It is still lively, particularly around the outside where goods and food are being sold, but inside it can feel relatively quiet compared with the old days when the whole place was crowded and bustling with people. That's because markets change as the city around them changes. The Penang of my mother's generation was very different from the Penang we have today. Yet Chowrasta has somehow managed to survive.

I suppose I have known Chowrasta all my life, even if I never really thought much about its history before. Having spent a lifetime watching Penang change, I sometimes find that places and pictures trigger memories I had almost forgotten. I remember the old building, although I can't remember ever going inside it. I remember hearing my mother and her generation call it Kelinga Bansan. I remember a schoolmate who grew up in Tamil Street and later built a successful nasi kandar business. And I remember that one particular Chinese medicinal hall in Chowrasta Road. All these little memories, from different periods of my life, somehow come together in this one small corner of Penang.

The day that changed the world

noreply@blogger.com (SS Quah) — Fri, 11 Sep 2026 00:46:00 +0000

Time has really flown. It's hard to believe that it's already 25 years since the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Centre in New York City on 11 September 2001. What was I doing that day? Well, I was still working, although by then I was no longer in the banking industry but with JobStreet.com, based in the Hotel Equatorial building in Bukit Jambul, Penang.

Because of the 12-hour time difference, the attacks happened in New York during our evening on 11 September 2001. By the time I went to the office the following morning, the 12th of September, the full horror of what had happened was already becoming clearer. Word had come in that there had been a terrorist attack on US soil, and as more details emerged, we slowly realised that this was something on a scale none of us had known before. For the rest of the day, very little work was getting done in our office. My colleagues and I were glued to our computer terminals, reading the news, looking at the images and trying to figure out what was happening thousands of kilometres away in New York. We had no idea then that we were watching an event that would change the world, or that among the nearly 3,000 people who died would be three Malaysians who were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It was one of those days when the news seemed almost too unbelievable. Although we had become accustomed to seeing disasters and wars on television, this was different. The images coming out of New York were being shown again and again, and each time they looked unbelievable. First came the report of a plane crashing into the World Trade Centre, then another plane hitting the second tower. Before long, we knew that this was a coordinated terrorist attack.

There were four hijacked aircraft that morning. Two were flown into the Twin Towers, another crashed into the Pentagon and United Airlines Flight 93 came down in Pennsylvania after passengers attempted to take control of the aircraft. Nearly 3,000 people were killed, not counting the 19 hijackers. The Twin Towers collapsed within hours, taking with them office workers, visitors, firefighters, police officers and other first responders who had rushed towards the buildings when everyone else was trying to get away.

For those of us sitting in an office in Penang, we continued watching the events on our computers. Although the Internet was nowhere near what it is today, JobStreet.com by our very nature was very much connected through it to the outside world despite there being no smartphones delivering videos and notifications into our hands. So we sat at our computers, refreshing news websites and talking among ourselves as more details emerged.

I remember the feeling in the office. We were physically so far away from New York, yet somehow the events felt very close. Work continued, technically, but nobody was really concentrating on it. Every new piece of information seemed more shocking than the previous one. By the time we had spent hours following the unfolding events, we were not only distracted from work but mentally tired. And when the Twin Towers eventually collapsed, it was difficult to comprehend that the New York skyline had changed forever.

Twenty-five years later, the world has moved on in ways that would have been difficult to imagine that day. Airport security became much tighter, governments introduced new counter-terrorism measures and the United States went to war in Afghanistan. Osama bin Laden, the leader of al-Qaida, was eventually killed by US forces in Pakistan in 2011. But the consequences of 9/11 went far beyond the immediate response to the attacks and continue to influence the world today.

A whole generation has grown up since 9/11. In 2001, I was sitting in the office at Hotel Equatorial Bukit Jambul with my colleagues, staring at computer screens. This blog didn't even exist then, so there was no post for me to look back on and remind myself what I was thinking that day. Today, there are young people who were not even born when it happened. For them, 9/11 is not something they personally remember. It is something they learn about from history books, documentaries, photographs and the stories told by their parents and grandparents. So perhaps this is my belated 9/11 blog story, coming 25 years late.