THEN: This is my Form 3 class at Three Rivers. One of the boys standing in the back row was to become my boss at Unimas over 40 years later.

IF there is one thing I have learned from my Peace Corps experience is to never predict my future. Not only had my original plans been diverted from Penrissen to Mukah, but the short-lived student strike at Three Rivers School in 1965 had also cut short what had otherwise been a pleasant teaching experience for me when I got abruptly transferred to Serian.

Starting again in Serian

Serian town was about the same size as Mukah then.

Although there was one lonely service station, it was quite sufficient, as there were only five or fewer cars and 10 or fewer motorbikes, all owned by the Chinese shop owners.

No one in the nearby kampungs owned any form of transportation, except a bicycle or their own feet. The town did have two movie theatres, one playing mostly Malay and Indian movies and the other playing mostly western films released more than 10 years before. We favoured the latter, attending each weekend when there was a change of feature and avoiding the ever present rats which always out-numbered the paying customers.

The secondary school in Serian was less developed than Three Rivers. It would be the first year the school would be teaching form three classes and the school compound was much smaller and fewer facilities. There were also fewer ex-pats teaching than there were in Three Rivers.

I was assigned the same subjects to teach as at Three Rivers, this time at the form two and three levels. I also drilled my Form 3 class on test-taking skills to assist their performance on the Form 3 test.

The pass rate of that first Form 3 class was somewhat less than the record at Three Rivers, but most of the class did pass, including Richard Riot, the long-time Member of Parliament and who represents the Serian district.

As the 1966 school year was coming to a close, it occurred to me that one year at Serian was not enough to do all that I wanted to do for the school. I applied, and was approved, for a third year of service. I was also given leave to return home for a month.

When, after only two weeks, I was eager to return to Sarawak, I knew the Peace Corps experience was making some profound changes in me.

NOW: This was taken at a school reunion held in Kuching in 2005. Some of the same students in the photo on the left are in this one. The passage of time has produced changes in various ways in us all.

The second year at Serian Secondary was fairly much the same as the first year until May of that year when I met a very special woman. It may not have been love at first sight for either of us, but something must have quickly developed because a few months later, on Nov 4, 1967, we were married, accompanied by a nuptial mass at the Serian Catholic Church.

She has been by my side ever since, and this November it will be 45 years and counting.

The school year ended before my tour with the Peace Corps ended, so we spent about a month in Kuching while I helped train some of the incoming volunteer teachers. Then, in early January of 1968, after a teary goodbye between my wife, Cynthia, and her family, we departed Kuching for a new world and a different life.

It would be five years before Cynthia would see Sarawak again. For me, it would be much longer.

I know there are volunteers who leave Sarawak after two or three years with all intention to put their Peace Corps experience on the ‘back benches’ of their mind and move on with their careers and lives.

I also know that there are other volunteers who do not want to leave Sarawak at the end of their tour and go on to take jobs either in Malaysia or in the region, sometimes for the rest of their lives.

My case would fit somewhere in between these two extremes. Certainly being married to a local going through rather severe adjustment difficulties to the US at first would not permit me to put Sarawak very far in the recesses of my mind, but I wanted to move forward in my career. That entailed me earning a masters degree from Ohio University so that I could transition from public school teaching to a different career path.

My new career path took me to work for the Peace Corps domestically in New York; then in Washington, DC; and then another federal government agency before the transit authority in Washington, DC where I became the director of employee training and development and eventually director of all human resource management.

Ten years later I struck out on my own as an independent management consultant, eventually forming a corporation employing over fifty people and with contracts in a number of government agencies and private companies. Cynthia and I also opened a combination dry-cleaning plant and tailoring shop, which she ran.

But the ties to Sarawak were always there. These ties were reinforced in 1973 when we decided to adopt a child from Sarawak. With Cynthia’s mother’s help, a child was found, a daughter who was one too many for a family in a nearby kampung to afford.

In 1974 Cynthia went back to fetch Samantha, a little over a year old, but strong enough to help her new mother carry one of the bags, walking through the airport.

The ties were reinforced again when Cynthia’s father, whose family had cleared most of the land that is now known as Serian, bequeathed to Cynthia an acre of land on a hill, overlooking Kampung Kakai.

Over the following eight years, she came back to Sarawak several times to supervise the building of our new home.

And so it comes around

If anyone had told me prior to 1964 that I would spend over three years of my life in a country I had never heard of, in a part of the world of which I knew practically nothing, I would have snickered. If one had told me that I would marry a woman from that unheard of country and we would spend the rest of our lives together, I would have laughed harder. And if someone had told me that I would spend my retirement years in a place I could not even spell or pronounce, I would have fallen off my chair laughing.

By 2002 we had sold both our businesses. My wife almost single-handedly completed our home, which she had designed herself. All that remained to be done was to sell our upper middle class home in Virginia, which I did after posting it for only two days. I made the big move in May of 2002.

Before the move I had learned of the Sarawak campus of the University of Malaysia, otherwise known as Unimas. I had also learned that the Vice Chancellor of that institution was one of my students from Three Rivers School.

Shortly after arriving, I went to talk to Yusif Hardi, the tall, lanky student who made As in all of his subjects and who is pictured in two of the photographs featured in this article. He hired me as associate professor of management under a three-year contract.

My best student at Three Rivers became my boss.

Samantha, the little Bidayuh girl given to us because her family could not afford another child, recently celebrated her 39th birthday.

She only came back to Sarawak once in 1980, a visit she barely remembers, but she keeps communication links with many of her cousins in Sarawak through the miracle of Facebook.

She has a daughter, Olympia, my only granddaughter, who Cynthia brought to Sarawak twice in the late nineties and who even learned enough Bidayuh to play with the kids in the kampung. She will be turning 17 soon and is planning to return to Sarawak again when she becomes 18.

As for me, with my contract with Unimas ended, I do occasional talks and seminars when called upon, which is far less frequently than I would like but I spend most of my time at the computer writing.

It is rather ironic that, although I have always wanted to be a published writer since I was in high school, I got my first book published by an established publisher only after I came to Sarawak.

While at Unimas I published three books, one for employee career development, one for supervisors in doing performance appraisal and one for students graduating and entering the job market. These books were published by the Malaysian division of Marshall Cavendish publishers and distributed mostly in Malaysia and Singapore. Since leaving Unimas I have published five books by an American book publisher.

And so it keeps coming around. Almost every week, while shopping or running errands in Serian town, I come across another student of mine from one of my Form 3 or Form 2 classes. I often fail to remember either their names or faces because much water has passed under the bridge of my memories. But they all seem to remember the tall, dark American who taught them history, geography or English and drilled them on how to pass their Form 3 examination.

Bill Hughes can be contacted at hugheshhrs@yahoo.com.sg or williamhenry.hugheshhrs.hughes@gmail.com.

NOSTALGIA: The author in the back row with the staff of Three Rivers School in 1964 after two of the Peace Corps volunteers had been transferred.

I REMBER the phone call as if it only happened last year, but it was July of 1964. The Western Union operator said in her deep Augusta, Georgia drawl, “You have a telegram from the Peace Corps. Would you like me to read it?”

Having applied to be a volunteer several months before and having not heard a word until that moment, I told the operator to fire away.

“Congratulations. You have been invited to the…” Here she paused, started to read on, then said, “I think I’d better spell this: ‘the Sabah Sarawak Programme. Please indicate if you accept.’”

I told the operator to send me the telegram in order for me to see what she had spelled, but after I saw the words, they were no more recognisable than when I heard them spelled. I had never heard of Sabah or Sarawak.

Shortly afterwards, the Peace Corps sent me an information packet which said that Sabah and Sarawak were located on the island of Borneo and were two states in the new federation of Malaysia.

At the time, I, like some Americans, had heard of the island of Borneo and of Malaya. We were vaguely aware of somewhere called Malaysia, but if offered a thousand dollars, we could not have pointed out its location on a world map. Unlike most Americans, however, I would learn much about these faraway places in the months to come.

In those days, training for volunteers in the Malaysian programmes took place in Hawaii in an old converted hospital, located in the midst of palm trees, flower gardens and fruit-laden guava trees.

My group was called Sabah/Sarawak 8 because we were the eighth group of volunteers to come to East Malaysia, but not the eighth group to come to Malaysia. This was only about two years after the formation of the federation and the groups were still being named as they had been before the formation.

Originally there were about 40 people in the group. I was among the oldest, having graduated two years before and taught in high school for two years. Almost all of the rest had just received their college diplomas the previous May or June and had no professional experience at all.

The ones slated for Sabah were to teach English as a second language. There were some men in that group but most were women. Those slated for Sarawak (including myself) were all men and designated to teach secondary education in one of the government schools.

And so it begins…

Training was a mixture of a college campus and military basic training. There was much physical activity like hiking, running, swimming and team sports and many of the men lived in military-like barracks, at least for half of the training.

There were also many lectures on the history and character of Malaysia and specifically, Sarawak, although there were also lectures on American history and government.

To approve the concept of the Peace Corps during the Kennedy administration, Congress insisted that one of the objectives of the programme should be to spread the word about the US, its history and its character. Most of the trainees did not take this part of their mission very seriously, but they listened to the lectures and took notes, if for nothing else but for the fact that several tests were given on the subject matter and the grades of each trainee were posted on a public bulletin board.

As I had taught American history and government for two years to high school students, this part of the exercise was unnecessary for me. But the part of the training that was not the least waste of time was the language training in Malay. We had five hours of it: two hours first thing in the morning, one at noon and two hours at night Monday through Friday and two hours on Saturday.

What the Peace Corps did not explain was that an invitation to the programme did not guarantee that the invitee would actually become a volunteer.

By the end of the training programme, my group of over 40 had been whittled down to a mere 17. Some were deselected within the first several weeks. Others were allowed to go midway through the training before they were sent home and a few more were given their return tickets home on the last day of training.

For those of us fortunate enough to remain, there was an exhausting flight to KL, several days of presentations by second-tier government officials, receptions at the American Embassy and snapshots of the city which was, even then, more modern and developed than any of us had expected. Then it was on to Singapore, which was still a Malaysian state at the time, for more of the same before we reached our respective assigned schools.

The Three Rivers School

I had originally been assigned to Penrissen secondary school, but when I arrived in Kuching I was told that my assignment had been changed to a school in the third division because the headmaster, a Canadian, had demanded that the volunteer assigned to his school had teaching experience as he would be required to teach at the form four level.

The school was Three Rivers School, located in the town of Mukah, a change in my original schedule that would lead to many changes in my life.

The trip from Sibu to Mukah in those days involved both river travel and road travel. I was taken by speedboat, which was less than speedy because it was the rainy season and the river was cluttered with debris that frequently got caught in the blades of the motor, forcing the driver to stop and free the blades.

The road travel began when we reached a town called Dalat. As we neared Mukah, the road ended and we had to travel along the beach, which could only be done during low tide.

Mukah in those days was a small backwater town, the heart of which was about a mile from the ocean. The centre piece of the town, like an oasis in the midst of a small desert, was Three Rivers School with its unexpectedly large and impressive compound.

The school had facilities and grounds for practically every organised sport – a large basketball court, tennis and badminton courts and fields for football, rugby and softball.

It was soon apparent that the headmaster was very high on competitive sports. Another PC volunteer coached basketball, a local teacher coached football (or what we Americans call soccer) and a British woman coached, of all things, rugby, in a short, floppy skirt. Needless to say, she had little trouble inspiring the boys to faithfully show up for practice. I agreed to coach softball.

The secondary school curriculum in all government schools was the old Cambridge system in those days. All subjects were taught in English that was used in all communication in or out of the classroom by teachers and students. Since Malay and Chinese were special subjects, I never got a chance to use the Malay I had spent so many hours learning, except when I went to the bazaar.

It was the first year the school offered form four-level classes. I was assigned to teach form four English grammar and composition to a class that consisted of students, some of which would go on to universities overseas and even to medical school. One of the top students in that class was Dr Michael Toyad.

My main class at Three Rivers was Form Three, to which I taught English, history and Southeast Asian geography. I also spent considerable time drilling my class on test-taking techniques, as they would have to take the state examination at the end of the year.

This exam would determine if they would go on to Form Four or stop their schooling. Perhaps some small part of my efforts paid off because that year, for the first time, Three Rivers school Form Three students had 100 per cent pass results. It was the only school in the third division to accomplish that.

Towards the end of that year something happened at the school that would ultimately produce big and lasting changes in my life.

Before I had arrived at Three Rivers, the headmaster had long been indulging in a sort of feud with a Peace Corps volunteer who had come the year before me. Then, something he said or wrote, which was critical of the headmaster, led to the headmaster firing him and having him removed from the school immediately.

Since the volunteer was very popular with the students, the Form Four students organised student protests against the headmaster, including staging a student strike against attending classes.

It was the first and — as far as I know — only time that such actions were taken in a Sarawak school. The result of all of this was quite predictable: The education department sided with the headmaster and the students were punished by having the leaders of the protests transferred to other schools.

The headmaster wrongly suspected that I had played a part in inspiring the students’ action and our relationship became somewhat strained for the remainder of the year. When the final school term ended I was transferred to the government secondary school in Serian.

At the time I thought the transfer were grossly unfair. In time, I was to change my mind.

End of part one. Part two will be published next Monday.

THOSE WERE THE YESTERYEARS: Staff photo, Tanjong Lobang School 1964. Bob Lynn is standing fifth from right. Ms McConkey is seated fourth from right.

Once Upon a Time

ONCE upon a time, a young man began to wonder whether he had chosen a career that he didn’t want.  He was at the graduate school of Yale University, but he felt that Yale was not likely to make his life interesting and useful.  He had his M.A. in literature, and he, like many people at that time, began to look for ways to find work that would give him something more than money.

I was the young man, the year was 1963, and of course my best possibility was the Peace Corps.

But first, of course, I had to get into the Peace Corps, which was very popular among young graduates at that time. And Peace Corps really wanted to know about the applicants before they sent them. I think I sent in my application in May 1963, and received an answer in two weeks.  I really can’t recall the country they wanted to send me to, but I do remember it was one of the countries in West Africa.

I had to turn down that first offer because I had already accepted a teaching job for that summer.  Next I was asked if I could go to Sabah or Sarawak, and I thought maybe if I turned them down again they’d never ask me again. So, with no real information, I accepted a position at the secondary school in Sarawak.

Training

So I knew where I’d be going, but first we had to receive training and orientation. We needed to learn many things before we could be sent off for our two-year stint in Sabah or Sarawak.  We needed to learn at least enough of the national language to feel that we might soon be at least able to have simple conversations with the people we met.

The training for our group was in Hawaii, and most of the training was quite good. The best training was the practice, practice and practice in leaning and using Malay. The Sarawak government had sent over to Hawaii a few instructors who taught us every morning and evening, and they were such pleasant people that we began to realize that Malaysia was sure to be a fine place to live.

The training in some other matters didn’t go so well. We were supposed to learn all about the history of Malaysia, but that turned out to be quite poor. The trainers were mostly professors from the nearby campus of the University of Hawaii, who talked well but didn’t know much about the two places we wanted to know about, Sabah and Sarawak. Lots of Americans, then and now, have good experiences in a few Asian nations, but they often thought that everything they had learned by studying just one country was certainly going to be the same in all the islands of the South China Sea. My guess is that sort of “the Philippines is just like Malaysia” thinking got the US into the Vietnam War.

Our training started in October and ended just before Christmas. For all of us, it was time to learn from the people we would live with for two years or more, and we would find that it was the most wonderful years of our lives.

We flew first to Hong Kong where I had a chance to sleep, something I’m always eager to do. The first stop in Malaysia for our group was Sabah, where we had just 20 minutes of farewells with the volunteers who would be staying in the state.  The rest of us then climbed back into the plane, ready for our first sight of our two-year home.

Miri, and 4 delightful years

AUSPICIOUS DAY: Wedding photo of Bob Lynn and Siew Jyu with her parents and siblings.

I guess I saw Miri during that flight, but I didn’t know what I was looking at as we flew straight down toward Kuching. Eventually I reached Miri where I had tremendous joy teaching and living in the next four years. I am now an  old man of 71, but looking back  I still think that almost everything good in my life is the result of my four years in the Peace Corps in Sarawak, teaching in the Miri School that was called Tanjong Lobang then, and later carried the name Kolej Tun Datuk Hj. Bujang.

Just living there, high above the sea, was a daily pleasure, but the students, from Form One to the Sixth Form, were the real delight.  They worked hard, they were courteous to their classmates and their teachers, and they really wanted to learn as much as they could. At the same time they were always ready for adventure, whether it was physical or mental.  I think every teacher at the school knew that he or she might never again have a better place to enjoy teaching.

The Peace Corps had told us that we volunteers would stay for two years, but I and quite a number of others managed to get permission   to stay on for a while.  I arrived in January 1964 and left in December 1967.

By that time I knew I wanted to stay close to Sarawak, so I applied for a teaching job in Singapore.  Soon, though, I was asked if I would like to teach at Nanyang University – Singapore’s only university which conducted most subjects in Chinese.  I taught there for five years, and then I had another lucky break: the Singapore Civil Service wanted someone like me to do some of its training so soon I left Nantah, now Nanyang University of Technology.

So now you see why I feel that everything in my life has come from my good luck (which I don’t really consider “luck” but God’s plans for us.)

One of God’s plans turned out to be that Wong Siew Jyu (from Miri) and I were married in 1973.

Singapore was a wonderful place to raise a family. Siew Jyu and I loved our jobs, so we expected to stay forever.

But “forever” brings some surprises.  My mother developed a cancer that killed her before we could get to see her, and a few months after that my father was in need of help of many kinds.  For that reason we quit our jobs and went off to the U.S. expecting to be there for only a year or so – and yet we’re still here.

Were Peace Corps CIA Spies?

There was a little funny episode in my Peace Corps years I wish to relate.

I have been told that some officers in Kuching began to believe that the Peace Corps people, or at least some of them were made up of trained American spies. At least one Canadian who was teaching at Tanjong seriously thought I was a spy. Why? Well, on Saturday nights we would have films, some boring, so good, and some in foreign languages. One night when I happened to be there, we received a film about Sarawak, all in German. Since I knew some German, I tried to help everyone to get some idea of what was going on.

The odd thing that night was that the Canadian guy, who had never sat in on any of those films, suddenly appeared on my side.

I think a year later while I was teaching in Singapore, that guy got in touch with me. After a few minutes he started asking whether I was a spy. I was astonished, but actually all I could say was that if I was working for Singapore that must indicate I couldn’t be any threat to anyone because Singapore had a very successful record in dealing with troublesome foreigners!!

Okay, my little story is over.

A Note on Marian MacConkey, the school Matron

In May 2012, Chang Yi wrote a wonderful article about Marian McConkey, the matron of Tanjong Lobang in 1964-1966. She was exactly as capable, dependable, kind and sensible as Chang Yi wrote.

I guess she came from an amazing family, or at least she was lucky in having a great brother. Miss McConkey had not seen much of the world, and when the Peace Corps began, she secretly longed to go. Her brother, a couple of years older than Marian, was blind in both eyes, and the brother and her had lived in the same house for years. On his own, with no request from his sister, he told Marian, “You should apply, and I’ll be just fine.” She took his offer, and I think the brother and the sister wrote letters to each other every week- in Braille, I think.

Marian McConkey’s last years weren’t much fun, of course, so Siew Jyu and I tried to go visit her when we could.  The trip took about five hours one way.  The conversations were usually still quite good.  But on one visit we asked where she was, since she wasn’t in her normal room. Instead she was in a treatment room, something that meant she was having a bad time.  We had a special something that we wanted to deliver to her, so we asked for special permission to read a poem (or an essay, I’ve forgotten) written by Tanjong’s most prolific writer, Robert Madang. The person working on Marian told us we couldn’t do any harm by reading to her, so we read to her – and she remembered almost all the things that came up in the poem.  As I recall, Marian was focused throughout.

Marian died just a week or so after that visit, and we think two relatives of Marian read the poem during the funeral.

We miss Marian McConkey, a truly wonderful person but we are sure many will fondly remember her, the matron of Tanjong Lobang School.

OFFICIAL DUTY: Jim (in the background) welcoming the Minister of Education in 1974 with the school students. The airport was just a stone’s throw away from the school and all the students turned out to line the road from the plane to the main road.

IN 1974, I was posted to SMK Limbang – my first posting after graduating with my teaching diploma.

The school staff was small in comparison to today’s school staffing population, but what was most remarkable then was the multi-racial and international makeup of the staff.

My first day at SMK Limbang would bring me face to face with Jim Lehmann: a six-foot, blond, American teacher. He was wearing a grand batik shirt and carrying a notepad in his hand. If I can remember correctly, he also had a whistle dangling from a cord around his neck!

It was really surreal. For a while I thought I was looking at a typical American scene from a Hollywood movie. Sitting down on the sofa was another American -  Susan Peterson – who looked very serious. She had that ‘teacher look’ as people would say.

James Lehmann, or just Jim, came to Limbang as a Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV) teacher and brought up a generation of students who loved science and nature.

He, along with the other outstanding teachers of SMK Limbang, were instrumental in raising the standards of teaching science subjects and improving school results.

Jim was a fresh young graduate when he came to Sarawak.

He arrived in Kuching on Sept 1st, 1972 where he had a 12-week in-country training, including background on the Sarawak educational system, the local adats, Sarawak’s history and cultures, the local bazaar Malay and practice teaching at Bintulu Secondary School.

He was in Group 41 of PCVs, a group of 14 secondary math and science teachers who volunteered to teach in Sarawak.

His good friend, Christopher Sawan, will always remember how difficult Jim found it to buy size 12 shoes in Limbang. The possibility of not finding size 12 shoes in Sarawak hadn’t occurred to the young American before he left his homeland.

Jim, upon wearing out his only pair of shoes had to buy a pair of  shoes in Brunei and had the front part cut off to let his toes creep out!

He could not wait for the December holidays as he knew only then would he be able to buy new size 12 shoes in Kuala Lumpur.

Another amusing incident was related to his first ‘Foochow’ haircut in Limbang town.

The friendly barber said he knew exactly what Jim wanted: short at the sides, short at the top, etc.

When the cut was finished, Jim could not believe his eyes. His Caucasian-shaped head could not take the Foochow style of haircut and to the amusement of the whole staff, Jim asked for one week’s leave to allow his hair to grow out!

Later, Jim would find out that Christopher was actually a good hairstylist and he also found another barber in town to cut his very fine hair.

THE MEMORABLE ECOLOGY FIELD TRIP: Jim with the Form 5 Science students of SMK Limbang on an ecology field trip to Bukit Mas, where a forest fire had burned a clearing between the school and town.

In the classroom, Jim made all the difference in the learning of science. He had no problem maintaining  control and had his students mesmerised when he taught.

Coming from Minnesota, Jim was familiar with farming life and he was happy to spend time in Sarawak. He visited his colleagues’ longhouses and loved taking the longboat rides down the small meandering rivers during the weekends or whenever he had short holidays.

He was very amused when the local people teased him into eating roasted grasshoppers and cicadas. And he did taste a few glasses of local rice wine on special occasions.

He slowly built up a collection of 33 1/3 black vinyl records – one of the few aspects of fine living he had in Limbang. At the end of his tour of duty he gave these treasures to his best friends.

He joined the Peace Corps (PC) to teach overseas and believed that he could in one way or another help with development in other countries. As both of his elder brothers were drafted into the US Army and had served in Vietnam, their experiences made them insist that their younger brother not volunteer to join the military.

In fact, Jim had almost become a naval officer, but when he was told that he would never command a ship because he wore glasses, he did not enlist.

The naval recruiters were very interested in him because he scored a perfect score on their mathematics tests!
In a recent email, he wrote: “I have many memories of my life in Limbang: joining the local karate club and attending the National Tang Soo Do tournament where I won a bronze medal for my level of belt, bicycling every night into town and eating at the outdoor cafes and kedais, birthday parties with Susan Peterson, Christopher Sawan and the rest of the teaching gang, Gawai Dayak and the longhouse festival, a mouse deer (now an endangered species) running into our classroom during an afternoon class, Christopher  Sawan and I lighting up cigars in protest of the smokers in the faculty room, the exceptional Form 4 & 5 Science students we had, the camaraderie  of the teaching staff, etc.”

All the Form five students he taught would remember remarkably their Bukit Mas trip: “A most memorable experience (there were many) in Sarawak which was the ecology field trip day to Bukit Mas, where a forest fire had burned a clearing between the school and town.  The Form 5 students enjoyed a field trip which I suppose was novel to them.”

Jim remembered how they collected specimens, some of which were new to science, took pictures of unique animals, “but most of all, I captured the day and the classes enthusiasm and youthful playfulness with my tripod and single lens reflex camera.  The field trip picture reappeared after 26 years when I returned for a reunion trip in 2001.”

A lot of people asked Jim what the PC was all about or what his experience was.

He said: “Obviously, we were all secondary teachers at the time and played that role.  But most importantly, it was that unique opportunity to live with, share, and get to know many wonderful people!”

‘Mr Jim’ is well remembered by his SMK Limbang students of 1974-5 and they would love to see him back in Sarawak again.

So many of them have written to him recently and invited him to join Facebook. Perhaps in a few years’ time we will all be able to see him on FB.

In other words we’ll have to wait until he retired.

Jim’s love for teaching did not end when he completed his tour as a PCV. He went home to go back to college and eventually obtain his PhD.

Today, he is a professor of some renown college but he says that he “continues to teach, for with five children, teachers get to keep teaching until their children are done with college!”

This seems to be quite a global family scenario nowadays. Jim is not alone in supporting all his children through university!

His eldest boy, Charles Luke, is finishing his orthopedic medicine residency and has a Korean-American wife who has also just graduated from medical school. In a way, Jim continues to be connected with Asia via his daughter-in-law!

He remains in close contact with his former colleagues through emails and letters. He misses Sarawak and still keeps a lot of souvenirs at his home in Cedar Rapids.

He has returned to Sarawak once and I am sure he will be come back again, perhaps this time with his wife, Linda.

He will find Limbang has changed for the better and the school is no longer the same one he taught at more than 35 years ago.

Some older folks have gone from this world, especially the owners of the café who made the special peanut butter buns.

Instead of bicycles, the people of Limbang now will be proudly driving Hilux and big Camrys. Motorbikes still roar along the roads but some familiar faces would still be there for him to recognise.

One thing is certain: his former colleagues and students would organise a welcome party when he comes back for a visit.

It is difficult to forget a good teacher and a good friend.

He can be contacted  at JLeh530655@aol.com

Bob Lynn, Simple, Relaxed & Easy-going

HAPPY COUPLE: Bob Lynn with his wife, Siew Jyu, girl from Miri

Bob Lynn took over our English Literature class in mid 1965. Two things about Bob Lynn struck me when I first met him. One was his look.

Not the dashing American young man I had expected, Bob Lynn actually came across as too simple in his attire, sporting a plain short-sleeved shirt and a pair of equally non-descript shorts but his brown-rimmed spectacles gave him an aura of scholarship, and, (this is important), he smoked a pipe.

Secondly, Bob Lynn was relaxed and easy going in his mannerism so that we, the students, felt easy and relaxed with him. It encouraged us to open up, to engage and to explore.

I think Bob Lynn’s classes had given us the vital experience of free learning, free thinking, free sharing, and above all, making mistakes freely.

We welcomed the change and eagerly looked forward to being challenged by Bob Lynn with his engaging questions.

Looking back, I can still picture Bob Lynn, pipe in hand, asking. “Mr Phang, does Othello qualify as a tragic hero, if so, why ?”

Bob Lynn also taught us General Paper, which involved endless essay writing, critical appraisal of passages and paraphrasing. Our papers were marked and returned promptly.

It was not easy to score with Bob Lynn but it was also not easy not to improve with the intensive writing and reading drills we received.

It was the most productive and crucial period in my student days. The one and a half years with Bob Lynn, and, I must add, the late Robert Nicholl, the principal who took my history class, not only enhanced my writing, reading and overall language skill, it also amply prepared me well for my university work which required our own independent research and study.

Yale graduate school

FOR THE ALBUM: Bob Lynn (second right) with the author (extreme left) at the commencement of the latter’s daughter, Stephanie, at Haverford.

Bob Lynn interacted very well with us informally, was so easy to get along with that we were drawn towards him.

He always smiled and greeted us first and would call us Mr so and so.

It was this warm demeanor of his that started a life-long friendship I had with him.

I really admired him for his simple life style, making us feel that he was one of us.

He was allocated a very tiny wooden house (more like a hut) with the most basic facilities but was completely happy with it.

This gentleman with a Masters degree from Yale university was completely at ease with his simple living quarters and bare subsistence allowance that we, who were from underprivileged background, found refreshing and inspiring.

Besides teaching, Bob Lynn was himself a very keen learner. He self-studied mandarin from a book compiled by Peace Corps and, with the aid of a tape recorder, would speak, tape, and replay words and phrases during his free time.

My help was enlisted to correct his pronunciation and converse in mandarin with him.

STAFF FROM YESTERYEARS: Bob Lynn (third right, middle row) in Tanjong Lobang School staff photo 1965-66

It was an interesting experience and I was impressed by his enthusiasm, discipline, persistence, and above all, humility in getting his student to guide him.

Always helpful and attentive, Bob Lynn was a good advisor and confidant.

I personally told him many of my concerns when I was making choices in the universities I was considering to attend.

He offered information, talked about prospects and left it to me to decide, something I learned to do later in life with others.

Peace Corps Volunteers had two-year contracts with our government, but at the end of his two-year stint at Tanjong Lobang School, Bob Lynn liked it and asked for an extension and was given a further two years.

He then moved to Singapore where he first taught in a secondary school before moving on to teach at Nantah, now Nanyang University of Technology.

WHERE IT ALL HAPPENED: Tanjong Lobang school, mid 1960’s. Peace Corps Volunteers lived in the two tiny wooden houses seen at left.

Bob Lynn later married a girl from Miri, Siew Jyu, and he said the marriage was the best outcome of his Peace Corps years. They have two children, Teresa and Andy.

While he was working in Singapore, he played host to many of us passing through, picking us from the airport, housing us, feeding us, and taking us around. Many ex-Tanjong students fondly remember this.

Mohidin, a student, wrote to Bob Lynn: “A very belated ‘thank you’ for the welcome and for looking after the five students who were on transit in Singapore many many years ago.

“We have not forgotten the help and your taking time off to take us shopping…..and it was my first time taking Chinese tea.”

Bob Lynn cared enough to look up people and to keep in touch.

Another student, Chong Hoi Hee, Dr, wrote:

“Bob Lynn was a teacher in TLS while I was a student there, but I was not in any of the classes he taught. I got to know him only later after both of us had left TLS.

In 1973 I was working in Kuching General Hospital when Bob and wife, Siew Jyu, dropped in out of the blue to say hello. Siew Jyu was a year my junior in both TLS and the Medical Faculty of University of Malaya.

In subsequent years we met up many times in Miri when Bob and Siew Jyu spent periods of weeks caring for Siew Jyu’s aging parents.

Mr Richard Tze, former teacher at TLS, once made this most succinct observation, ‘Bob is more Chinese than most Chinese-sons-in law!’

When my daughter went to study in USA, I asked Bob and Siew Jyu to be her guardians and I knew that if ever she needed assistance, they would be there.

In 2005, my wife, my daughter, and I were their house guests in Baltimore, USA, for a most enjoyable week.

From the recollection of other ex-Tanjongs, I have gathered that he too, has been a friend to many of us all through the many years since leaving TLS.

He sent a gift from Singapore to Ann and Patrick Panai for their wedding, a gift much treasured by them.

He played host and guide for Mohidin and friends in Singapore on their maiden overseas trip.

He and Siew Jyu made long journeys regularly to the nursing home to visit our beloved ex-TLS Matron Miss McConkey until her passing at the ripe old age of almost 100 in 2008.

He is always pleased to meet up with anyone of us and remains always our friend.

Aren’t we all lucky to have had Bob Lynn, a great friend.”

Circle completed

Somehow after Singapore, Bob Lynn and I lost contact. When my eldest daughter, Stephanie, applied to study in the US, one of the colleges she applied for was Haverford College, Bob Lynn’s undergrad school.

Why?

Because I told her that it was a great school and was Bob Lynn’s alma mater. She was accepted by various colleges but chose Haverford College.

I told her to look up and make contact with Bob Lynn through the college.

She contacted the alumni office of the college who gave her Bob Lynn’s number.

She called. Bob Lynn answered. When Stephanie said “I am Chung Shin’s daughter….”,Bob Lynn’s first words were “Son of a gun…”.

A few weeks later Bob Lynn, who was staying in Wilmington, North Carolina then, drove all the way to Haverford College to pick her up to spend the spring break at his place.

And Stephanie stayed over at their place over Thanks-giving and Christmas a few times over the years she was in the States.

Bob’s family also drove from Baltimore to attend Stephanie’s commencement at Haverford, met us there, and took us to his home where we spent a few days with them.

That, I think, completes the circle of the Bob Lynn-Chung Shin saga.

Making Real Differences in the Lives of Real People

Peace Corps Volunteers’ stated objective was to “travel overseas to make real differences in the lives of real people.”

Many of them have successfully brought about real changes to the lives of those they touched and it went beyond their works in the classrooms, in the farms, in youth organizations.

In opening up to us, in being interested in us like we were their own, in being of help, in making us accept them and trust them, in short in being great friends, they have contributed tremendously towards our growth and development.

President John F Kennedy’s lofty aspirations “to promote world peace and friendship through a Peace Corps, which shall make available to interested countries and areas men and women of the United States qualified for service and willing to serve, under conditions of hardship if necessary, to help the peoples of such countries and areas in meeting their needs for manpower” have been ably and amply fulfilled through such great friends and mentors like Bob Lynn.

FLASHBACK AND MEMORIES: Richard Harvey going through some of the letters, photos and diary of his days as a Peace Corps volunteer.

TOWARDS the end of 1964, Richard Harvey who was then a second-year university student learnt about Peace Corps when the recruiters went to campus.

The 20-year-old Californian lad – dashing, lively, curious and adventurous – blindly filled up the form and turned it in.

In the form, he was given the option to choose a preferred destination which he answered ‘the further away, the better’.

“I wanted to travel. I’d never left home except travelling to a few states outside of California,” he giggled.

Few months later, a big letter came in the mail inviting him to join the programme in Asia, which he had no idea which part of the world that was.

“I’d never heard about Asia. I had to look it up in a map.”

The letter, which Richard said was possibly written by a Hollywood scriptwriter elaborated with decorative details of Sarawak, managed to lead him into temptation.

“I remember, there were descriptions like jungles and crocodiles. I was like ‘WOW… that should be exciting’. Unfortunately, the letter is now gone.”

Without hesitation Richard deferred his study and with his family’s support, he took the plunge.

And so he was sent all the way across to the other side of the globe, about 10,000 miles away from home – to the land of hornbills and headhunters with strange and challenging language -Sarawak!

The very first exotic escape

DASHING LAD: Richard in his young days.

Sometime in 1965, Richard arrived in Kuala Lumpur and from there he was sent to Kuching where he had further training with about 50 other volunteers.

Richard was assigned to Sarikei where he spent two years there.

He had to find his own way there. At that time, there was no road to the town.

“Everything was by ship. There were two main ones – Pulau Kidjang and Rajah Mas. We booked the deck passage on the Kidjang because we did not have much money, only some allowance.”

In Sarikei, he worked with the agriculture office to help the local community, especially youths, improve their livelihood through farming.

Equipped only with the very basic of Malay, there was no problem communicating with the people (or so he thought).

The problem was while he could make himself understood with his ‘official Bahasa Kebangsaan’ the challenge was the replies from the locals who spoke in colloquial Malay.

“They could understand us, but it was a bit difficult trying to understand them.

“Also, a lot of people spoke English back then. But, we wanted to speak Malay because we wanted to improve our Malay.

“When we spoke to people in Malay, they would respond in English. So that did not help us learn more or improve our Malay. But we definitely could get by.”

Volunteers and natives shared and exchanged technical knowledge on farming through the Fun Youth Club, also known as the 4H Club, which they were setting up.

“We set up the club here (Sarikei). Then, we would visit longhouses and schools to explain about the club and its programme. There, we would find out who were interested to join the club.”

THE TRAIN: One of the volunteers Melissa leading the pack in a dance.

Members of the club would decide on what projects they wanted to carry out, for instance raise chickens, plant vegetables or rear fish in ponds.

One of the Peace Corps’ major contributions, Richard said, was in vegetables farming where they experimented with the seeds brought in from the States.

“I learnt more from the locals than what I taught them because they were already very good at what they were doing.”

Other than farming, part of the activities also involved community development focussing on health and cleanliness.

“It was a rounded programme with a combination of activities. At first, it was aimed at the youth but anytime you did anything, the whole longhouse would come out.”

“Everyone was learning and participating so it was very effective.”

It was so exciting, fun and fascinating that young Richard was not homesick at all.

When asked if he had ever called home, he laughed and said: “Making a phone call at that time was a major thing. I never did call home.”

In those days, making a phone call was not a pleasant and simple five second ‘pick and dial without even having to look at the keypad’ sort of thing.

“You have to go to the telephone office and book your call. Tell them the destination you want to call. And they will tell you to come back at a certain time and try to connect you.”

So everything was by letter, in plain sheets of paper with matching envelopes or fold-and-mail with matching seals.

Richard’s mother kept all the letters, those memories that were written in handwriting that never fade until this day.

“And later, I bought a tape recorder to record voice messages and mail them home,” he said laughing, adding that it was the state-of-the-art communication back then.

The love story

HAPPILY EVER AFTER: Richard and Habibah marry in 1970.

During his time in Sarikei, Richard met Habibah at the hospital while visiting a friend and fell in love with her.

Habibah was attached with the hospital for nursing training.

After completing his two-year service in Sarikei, Richard went back to California.

“We were very close already when I left. But we didn’t tie the knot because we were still young.

“I had to finish my degree while she had to complete her nursing training.”

They kept in touch for a while but somehow lost contact.

“But I did not forget about her.”

Back in California, Richard went back to school for a little while before he was due for his military service. That was during the Vietnam War in 1968.

He was against fighting the war and his experience in Peace Corps did not exempt him from military service.

So he was required to do something as an alternative service for the country and opted for community servicing and was sent to Laos, working in agriculture.

In the middle of that two-year service, Richard had a leave.

“I’ve never forgotten about Habibah so I came back to Sarawak to look for her. I did not know what the situation was like then, whether she was married or had left Sarikei.”

Casting his fate to the wind, Richard bravely stepped into the old nurses house and asked for Habibah.

“Someone went to inform her and when she came out and saw me, she was quite surprised.”

They had not seen each other for a couple of years.

“The spark was still there,” Richard said cheekily.

After the short visit, he went back to Laos to finish his time and returned to Sarawak.

This time, he came back to ask for her hand in marriage.

“She was just near the end of her nursing training. So I stuck around until she agreed to marry me. She wasn’t too sure at first because she had plans for her life too.”

“Also, I stayed around to convince Habibah’s parents that we should get married.”

Richard then persuaded his parents to travel to Sarawak and hinted that they might meet his ‘future wife’.

His family, who at first refused the invitation, agreed to fly in.

“Finally, my parents met Habibah and her family. That was good because it showed that I am genuine and serious about marrying Habibah, not coming here to get a second wife.”

The big wedding ceremony was held in Sarikei in 1970 which the whole village attended.

After the wedding, Richard brought Habibah back to the States as he had to complete his education which had been deferred twice.

He finally did with a post-graduate degree and later a Master’s degree.

Habibah spent another year in college to get her nursing qualification and worked as a nurse until her retirement recently.

They also spent eight years in Singapore when Richard joined an American company.

They have a son who is now living in San Francisco.

Retirement

THE SHELTER: A small wooden house where the volunteers stayed in Sarikei.

About four years ago, during their visit to Sarawak, Habibah’s relatives convinced them to stay back permanently.

For the past 40 years, the couple had lived in the States and occasionally made trips back whenever time and circumstances permitted so that Habibah could see her
family.

“She never left Sarawak before, never separated from her family when I brought her to the States. So it was a big thing for her. I understand that. So we try to come back once every three to four years.”

And so they moved back to Sarawak.

“I set up a business here earlier on but that did not go well. But I learnt some new things.

“I’d also worked for an engineering company for a few years. I’ve done a lot of things in life as I am very flexible.”

Now everything has settled down.

The 63-year-old Richard now spend his time hash running, jungle trekking, travelling and visiting old friends in the longhouses, takes long leisure rides on his scooter as well as fixing and building things.

“There is always something to do and more things to learn. I love the jungles and had always loved motorbikes. Kuching is a wonderful place to live in.”

LIFE-CHANGING: Members of the Sungai Padang 4H-Club in 1966. Manai is standing fourth from right. — Photo courtesy of Ms Patricia E Taylor

The year was 1965.

I had been in school for just over four years, and though I passed every English test in class I had very little confidence in my ability to speak to a native English-speaker or, in other words, an ‘orang putih’.

The chance for me to converse with one came when I returned home from school one afternoon and found out that a petit young orang putih lady was going to be staying with us in our longhouse. I was awestruck!

I was also a bit apprehensive; how was I going to communicate with her? I was a shy 12-year-old with pimples and worse: I could not really converse in English.

In school, our English conversation was limited to listening and answering to the voice of a Mr Moore booming out from a three-band transistor radio during our ‘radio lessons’ on English broadcast to all schools in Sarawak.

One other opportunity where we could gauge our proficiency in English conversation was when the School Affair Inspector came for his regular inspection.

We could speak with him but we never took the opportunity because Mr Thompson, an Australian, scared the hell out of all of us and so we avoided him as much as possible!

Prior to meeting this young lady then, my only encounter with a native English-speaker was in 1963 when I was spoken to by non-other than His Excellency Sir Alexander Waddell, the last colonial Governor of Sarawak! His Excellency was on his last tour before Sarawak gained independence through the formation of Malaysia.

Anyway, as it turned out, the lady staying with us at Rumah Saban, Sungai Semebak was Ms Patricia Elma Taylor, a Peace Corp Volunteer (PCV) from Kentucky, USA.

She introduced the 4-H club to us – a non-profit organisation focused on youth development and agriculture-based projects – and she was our mentor, coordinator and advisor all rolled into one.

She was soft spoken – at times, so soft I thought she was speaking to herself – but she was very nice to my mother.

Apart from being our 4-H coordinator, Ms Taylor inadvertently became our window to the world. We had no TVs back then and our only window to the world was the few short-wave transistor radios available,I think there were only three units in that 24-room longhouse! But Ms Taylor gave us what radio could not provide – the opportunity to interact.

We were curious and asked her many questions: her age, her family, the life in the US.

As teenagers our curiosities were contemporary too: did she know some of the popular singers of the time like Elvis, Skeeter Davis and had she met any of them in person?

But the most important lesson was time difference. Where she came from, she said, people would be awake while we on the other side of the world, would be sleeping. Now that was really scary concept at the time: Iban believe that the world of the dead was the opposite of the living, in that the dead were sleeping while we, the living, were awake!

Making the best better

Our club was named Sungai Padang 4-H Club, after the small stream across from Sungai Semebak. I became a member and my mother was the President. We held meetings whenever Ms Taylor came and before each meet we recited the 4-H pledge:

I pledge my head to clearer thinking,
my heart to greater loyalty,
my hands to larger service
and my health to better living,
for my club, my community, my country.

Reciting the pledge was no small deal; we had to memorise it and stand up to act out the action to the word. So when we said “my head”, we pointed to our head with all five fingers as if in salute; put our hands to our chest at “my heart”; extended our hands forward with palms up with “my hands”; and swept our hands from our heads and to our sides when we said “my health”.

The 4-H club brought us a new way of life –a transformation, if you will. It was the dawn of a new era for the longhouse dwellers. The club encouraged the longhouse folk to look into the cleanliness of the longhouse. We were organised into sub-committees to work on project after project and before long, changes came to our longhouse at Sungai Semebak.

The longhouse folk agreed to fence up their free-roaming domestic pigs. We built pit latrines; and though not every household did, it was a good start. We cleared the secondary jungle around the longhouse; dug a big drain along the back of the longhouse that dried up the normally waterlogged area.

Along the drain we built a bund where we could stroll in the late afternoon to wind down.

It was a dramatic change. The longhouse no longer looked like it was about to be swallowed up by the jungle; we could see from one end to the other.

South of the longhouse about a kilometer upstream, we converted a plot of land into a vegetable garden. We planted different type of vegetables: loofah, okra, eggplant. The women learnt how to bake cakes, cook, sew, and even make jam from the bountiful harvest of pineapples and rambutan.

It was during one of those cake-making sessions that one of the Home Demonstrators (HD) was heard commenting, “The cake very black, very funny looking!” Through the years up until recently that statement has been repeated over-and-over again… especially after a few rounds of tuak!

Looking back, it was really an awesome achievement for the longhouse ladies. Baking those days required a great deal of skill because we had neither electric-powered nor gas ovens. What those ladies had instead were wood-fired ovens and the effort to maintain a uniform temperature throughout the baking process was the greatest challenge!

With guidance from Ms Taylor and the HDs, however, the women remained resilient and attained a very high standard of competency. They were so proud of their culinary skills that cakes became the mainstay for any celebration from then on.

Activities organised by the 4-H club may sound like it was totally all-work-and-no-play but there were social activities too.

Inter-club visits were arranged so club members could exchange ideas. There were visits to agriculture stations to learn the finer points of modern agriculture too.

To create greater integration among all the 4H-clubs in the Sebauh sub-district, a sports carnival was organised.

The carnival was held in Sebauh town. Team sports included events like egg tossing as well as individual events like the high jump.

I entered the high jump competition for junior section and won first place, which was easy enough since I was the only competitor!

At night there were individual traditional ngajat competitions and betaboh competitions for teams. The sports carnival was a great success thanks to all PCVs in Bintulu who came to help as officials.

The changes brought by the 4-H club, in particular to the people of Rumah Saban, were tremendous and very beneficial. Even up to this day the 4-H club spirit still lives on – never again do we have domestic pigs roaming under the longhouse, nor any chickens running free. The vegetable garden continues to sustain us till this very day – though now at a different location – right next to the longhouse.

But for every hello there has to be goodbye and it was really sad that Ms Taylor had to return to the US upon completion of her tenure as our 4-H Coordinator and advisor.

She had done tremendously well in uplifting the wellbeing of the people of Rumah Saban having had to overcome language, beliefs and cultural barriers.

As a parting gift, Ms Taylor gave my mother a custom jewelry bracelet with the map of Kentucky as its lure; I forgot what my mother gave her in return. I hope it was something she could relate to and remember her time in Semebak with nostalgia.

Today, Manai Luang, 59, is a retiree. He and his wife have three grown children: two sons and a daughter. He enjoys reading, playing the guitar and singing country songs –legacies of the PCV.

TANJONG LOBANG SCHOOL TEACHERS IN 1964: Back row:(L to R): E.A.Webb, Dato Yusuf Hj Hanifah, Stapleton, Bob Stewart (Peace Corps, U.S.A.), James Foh Chung Nieng, Robert Lynn, Clark (Canada), Hsieh (H.K.), George Ong, John Wanty (N.Z.). Front row (L to R): Mr Sargunam, Miss Loh, Lulu Ong, Mrs. Philips, H.A. Henderson, Mrs. Sargunan, Miss McConkey (Peace corps, U.S.A.), Miss Ellen Liaw, Miss Chan, Mr Dewhurst (N.Z.), Mr. H.A. Henderson — Photo courtesy of Mohamad Abdul Majid

IN January 1964, Miss McConkey came as a Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV) to be the matron at our Tanjong Lobang School and stayed until December 1965.

She displayed the commitment so typical of PCVs around the world and she was also so good at her work partly because she loved Tanjong Lobang very much.

There are 10 things I remember about Matron McConkey.

Firstly, she embodied the full meaning of the word ‘Matron’. Besides being kind and benevolent, she carried out her duties very well and should be the standard for not just all school matrons to measure themselves by.

Secondly, she lived in ‘Penelope’, the PCV quarters next to the Girls’ Hostel. These quarters have long been pulled down to make way for development of the school in the last 50 years or so.

The quarters were assigned to her so that she could be near the girls, which numbered less than a hundred, mainly from the Orang Ulu community and some Chinese from Limbang, Bintulu, the Baram, Kanowit, including Kho Poh Tin whom I remember fondly as she came from Limbang like me.

Thirdly, we called her Matron only, out of respect. I never knew her real name until after I left school.  We grew up in a time when it was impolite to call our teachers by their full names, addressing them as ‘Sir’, ‘Miss’, or just ‘Teacher’ instead.  Perhaps it was because of this, many students did not get to know the names of their teachers.

Fourthly, I can still remember her daily schedule as I observed her unbreakable, sure routine of her role as matron. It was executed with military regularity.

She would come very early, walking to the school, without fail (I think she never took sick leave), check the kitchen and the refectory and then when school started, she would be in her office.

Throughout the day, she would administer to those who fell sick. Her office, which was next to the principal’s office, was the school dispensary. In her room was the cabinet for medicines, ointment, bandages, alcohol, scissors — anything you could imagine for a small clinic.

Then she would take time to check the cleanliness of the boarding houses and to find out who were sick and unable to attend classes. Those who were sick had to be isolated and placed in the sick bay.

I remember one of my schoolmates Robert Madang was down with mumps and poor Robert had to be quarantined in the sick bay.

Despite her strict regimen, those who came under her care would never forget her Florence Nightingale touch, as she was a very genuine and personal carer.

Fifthly, she, together with Mr Nicholl and Mr Bob Lynn shared food with us — a very endearing aspect to us local students. This was partly to ensure that quality of school food was really up to the mark.

We were very conscious of their presence and so we behaved very well during mealtime. Perhaps this was how we developed our ‘fine’ table manners. We were very careful and polite diners.

It’s something that I have carried with me over the years. When I became a teacher and a mother myself, inculcating fine table manners was my top priority. For this, I have Matron and the leading teachers to thank. There is definitely a big difference between dining and “eating fast food”.

Sixthly, Matron was tall and slim. For a woman in her fifties, she looked very fit and very healthy.

She wore nice spectacles and she would ride her bicycle every day too. Her typical attire would be a white blouse and a blue denim skirt that would flutter in the wind as she cycled along the road.

She would wear different skirts, but they were mainly blue. I thought she was very American in her colour choice. Her blue and white became like a matron’s uniform in retrospect. I can still see her with her bicycle as if they were right in front of me.

Seventhly, an amusing incident would always come to mind when thinking about Matron.

It happened one night when I raided the pantry — my first time — with Edward Gella and Empani Lang.

They, along with two others, Tan and Liaw, were having some serious fun trying to get to the lovely biscuits meant for the teachers’ morning tea break.

Once inside, we all ate the biscuit ration which Matron had already carefully laid out for the next day but the boys all agreed that we had to leave one biscuit for her.

It was Empani who said, “This biscuit is for Matron.”

The next day, we peeped into the staff room and sure enough, there was no biscuit for their morning tea. I remember that no fuss was made of it, but Matron ate her one biscuit in a very reflective way.

It was very painful to see, and we never ‘raided’ the pantry again. I am not sure if the teachers suspected any one, but then many attempts had been made to get extra food because food was never enough for growing boys and girls, who did not have any money to buy more.

Eighthly, from three to four pm every day, Matron would join us in our work party. I have very fond memories of the work party because that was how we repaid our beloved school for what it did for us.

We cleaned the school and repaired all the broken furniture. We had a lot of fun working and learning at the same time. We were like a family keeping our house clean, our family being the entire school community, including our beloved Matron. I believe that many of us were indeed very grateful that the school even had a resident nurse to look after our health and well-being.

Ninthly, throughout all the Sports Days when she was with us, she would be there with all her medical equipment ready.

It was very reassuring to have her presence there, and Sports Day would just be another memorable day with nothing untoward. Some of the students would definitely remember how they were given good rubdowns by the Matron and the girls who were given the roles to attend to the “injured”.

Finally, I remember her as a person who never raised her voice at any one of us. Even though she was not what we call ‘the fierce type’, we held her in great respect because she was so firm and fair. I presume that she was very at home with the girls and the girls with her.
I can still see her very clearly now, if I were an artist I could paint a very fine portrait of her. Any school would be excellent with a Matron like Miss McConkey.

BETTER LIFE: Putih living in comfort at Limbang Government Secondary School.

TWO Peace Corps teachers Richard Shaltz and Len Edwards who were posted to Lawas Government School in 1968  decided to give the students a hands-on experience of stable work and riding a horse.

To do that they pooled their allowances and bought two horses for two hundred US dollars.

USD 200 was serious money back then when you take into account the Peace Corps allowance then was USD 300 per month but it was not enough to buy a thorough bred so they settled for two ponies from Sabah.

Lawas is the nearest Sarawak town to the Sabah border so transporting the animals was not too much of a bother.

The ponies were a hit with the students in Lawas but it was after Shaltz and Edwards left Lawas that Putih the pony took centre stage in a another school in nearby Limbang and Chang Yi who was a teacher in that school has fond memories of Putih’s contribution to the development of the students there…

In 1974, I was posted to Limbang Secondary School.

I have very good memories of this school, which thrived under its principal, Phang Chung Shin and a multi-racial group of teachers and students who were future-oriented and hardworking against all odds.

But a large part of our life at the school revolved around a white Sabah pony conveniently named Putih which means white in Malay.

Putih and his partner, a young filly, were bought by Richard Shaltz and Len Edwards, Peace Corps Volunteers (PCV) teaching in Lawas Government School in 1968.

The two ponies cost $100 each – rather cheap to many but it was one third of their full month PCV allowance.

They shipped the two ponies from Sabah to Lawas and the students were exposed to horse-riding and stable work.

Many teachers and students enjoyed interaction with the two ponies and a few Lun Bawang students became very attached to them.

Everyone who dared to ride, rode bare back on the two ponies.In Lawas many single teachers and Shaltz and Edward ate in the school dining hall, another part of the shared lives which both teachers and students appreciated.

Food was simple but the school non-academic staff and the academic staff were like family.

These were some of the best memories of Lawas teachers and students.

The years passed and sadly the novelty of having the ponies lost its appeal and when the Peace Corps teachers left they were neglected and Putih lost its partner.

The poor pony was destined to live the rest of its life in misery until  Mr Goh  a teacher who was transferred from Lawas and a few other teachers in Limbang Secondary heard that Putih was being abused in 1973.

The story of Putih’s plight touched  Mr Phang the principal of the school and he was convinced that he should be brought to Limbang .

He decided to deputise the late Balang Lasung (who was then a junior teacher in the school and later became the top javelin thrower in South East Asia) and a Lawas student who was familiar with Putih – to fetch him.

It was an amazing and gargantuan task for Balang to put Putih on a cargo coastal ship from Lawas to Limbang, but they did it.

Thus Putih became our school pony.

What a change a school made…Putih was much loved in Limbang.

Students all wanted to wash and feed him. He was given a nice stable and was looked after very well by Balang.

Naturally the school management did not have any budget for a pony in the school which was supported by meagre government allocation.

Even food for the students was around $1.60 per head (lower than prisoners, according to some quarters).

But Putih never went hungry and managed to put on weight.

Students would go together to groom Putih and developed a real relationship with each other.

As they cared for him they also developed a great love for animals and compassion for living things.

For me, I was just so touched by Balang’s love for the animal and how he could ride Putih.

He brought cowboy and horses to reality in the small town of Limbang.

Most of the boys loved patting the pony and every now and then, they would speak to him like a friend.

It must have been very therapeutic for some little Form One boys who were homesick for their families and kampongs far away from Limbang.

Many of these little boys were from places like Long Semado and Long Lellang – two or three days’ journey by road away… and one or two days of walking again from the end of the road!

Probably many would like to own a horse so that they could ride one whole day and one whole night to go home…and then come back to school again. How they wished for ‘Horse Power’!

I myself even entertained such thoughts of riding a horse all the way to my hometown Sibu. High adventure that would have been!

If we had lots of memories of a good pony in a special school and lots of tales about him then we have to thank the two Peace Corps volunteers, Shaltz and Edwards, for bringing Putih into our lives!

We also have to thank Mr Phang and the late Balang Lasung for bringing Putih to Limbang Government Secondary school.

When people want to do something and you get people around you to do it together…things move! Even an abused pony could be brought ‘home’ where it was loved and cared for…and our lives became richer because of these acts of kindness.

Indeed the caring of a special white pony in our school was a special part of my life. My 1974 year was remarkable and unforgettable because of a white pony left behind by two Peace Corps teachers.

ON January 12, 1962, the first group of Peace Corps Volunteers arrived in Kuala Lumpur. On August 23, the first group of volunteers arrived in Borneo.

Over the next 21 years, more than 4,000 American volunteers’ lives became intertwined with hundreds of communities across Malaysia.

Together, Malaysians and Americans marvelled at the rate of growth of the young nation of Malaysia, and worked hard to build stronger, healthier communities.

These experiences began the history of deep, lifelong connections between the people of Malaysia and the US.

The US Embassy in Kuala Lumpur is commemorating the 50th Anniversary of Peace Corps in Malaysia this year, in an effort to bring together those Malaysians and Americans who have shared meaningful experiences and lost touch over the years, to renew old friendships and forge new connections.

Over the course of the next few months until the photo exhibition comes to Kuching in August, The Borneo Post will be publishing readers’ stories of their personal experiences with the Peace Corps on Mondays.

Whether you have a personal experience with a PCV or are a former PCV, send in your stories along with a brief description of yourself to us at peacecorps.bp@gmail.com. Alternatively, readers can also email in and request for a special interview.

The celebration is not just commemorative – it is a celebration of the enduring friendship that continues today under the various exchange programmes between Malaysia and the United States, including the Fulbright English Teaching Assistant (ETA) programme that sends young Americans to teach in Terengganu, Pahang and Johor.

Stay tuned for the series of Peace Corps Anniversary Events that will occur all across Malaysia over the course of 2012.

HAPPY FAMILY: Florence with her husband, Jimmy, whom she met during her PCV orientation programme in Hilo.

When John F Kennedy became president, a new Camelot was born in the United States.

The spirit of global volunteerism promoted by Kennedy when he made the historical ‘Ask what you can do for your country’ speechinspired millions of young Americans to pick up their knapsacks and travel the world to volunteer.

One of them was a young Senior at San Jose State College – Florence Moon.

Florence was born in Toledo, Ohio. At eight, she moved with her family to La Jolla in California, the Sunshine State of USA. In 1961, she went to San Jose State College and was caught up in the new wave of social awareness and global volunteerism under the Kennedy government.

A BIG DEAL: An article from her hometown newspaper featuring Florence and her participation in the PC.

EXTENSIVE: Florence keeps a detailed collection of photographs and mementos.

Growing up, her parents made sure that she did a good dose of community service together with her sister. She had been an active Girl Scout and was a candy striper who helped the Pink Ladies, a medical ladies auxiliary group,with hospital social concerns.

By the time she was in her senior year, she was more than prepared to volunteer in the Peace Corps (PC) officially established by Kennedy in 1961.

The Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV) forms she had to fill were, as she puts it, “the most comprehensive character reference forms I ever filled in my life!”

She had to give the names of three referrals, who were in turn interviewed. The selection process for PCVs wasthat stringent.

Florence had a twinkle in her eye when she related her elation of receiving the letter of acceptance. She said that it felt like only yesterday when everything in her world took a whirlwind turn.

She knew there was a country called Malaysia from her geography lessons, but she still had to look at an atlas to confirm where she was really going! She then went for a physical examination at Moffat Field. She said with her trademark chuckle “It was almost like signing up for the Army.”

Orientation took place in Hawaii. Once on board the plane, she found several old friends onboard from La Jolla High School like Bill and Eleanor Revelle along with many other Californians.

Her high school had given her adequate exposure to international and multi-racial communities. She had already had a Japanese-American roommate in college and her experience with the American Field Service gave her plenty of opportunities to meet international exchange students in California.

Furthermore, California as a state has a big Chinese population in San Francisco. These factors helped her get ready for Peace Corps work overseas.

The orientation programme in Hilo, the big island of Hawaii, was run in an old school in the middle of a huge sugar cane field. The volunteers were given canvas cots. On colder days they had to put newspapers under their sheets to keep themselves warm.

It was made more traumatic for many married couples because their privacy was only provided by bedsheets hanging from the ceiling!

Makeshift showers provided only cold water which could be unbearable on cold November days.

Each day was filled with Malay language lessons with teachers seconded from Malaysia like CikguHajijah and Jimmy Layang (who would be her future husband) both of whom were from Sarawak.

There were talks on the history of Malaysia. The lessons on social customs and different races were interesting and inspiring. Physical exercises were a must and swimming was glorious for those who enjoyed it. However, it was a daunting experience for Florence who did not enjoy getting her polio or tetanus shots every Saturday!

Solo camping was also part of the programme, along with learning how to slaughter and dress a chicken. Nobody was spared as everybody had to do it.

She had to pluck the feathers off and dress the chicken ready for cooking. For those who had never seen blood, the experience was horrific!

Food during training was very simple and plain but they were all in good shape by the end of it.

During the three-month intense training she remembered a few volunteers quit the programme to go home. Some were also asked to leave by the authorities when they were found to be unsuitable for the programme.

It was during this training that she got to knowher future husband, Jimmy. She remembers being very impressed by himwhen hehelped the instructors slaughter a whole cow for a ‘luau’.

They went up a volcano on their first date in Hawaii. She did not realise then that that would change her entire life and that she would remain in Sarawak until today!

Her own family was very supportive of her volunteer work overseas. Her parents were well educated and had always been very positive with her decision-making. So when she finally said good bye, her father came to Hawaii to wave her off.

They flew Pan Am and saw Hong Kong, which she described was exactly like its depiction in the film “The World of Suzie Wong”.

They went to Singapore and Kuala Lumpur where they were introduced to more “real-world volunteers”.

Finally, they were sent off to their various posts and she landed in Kuching – all this in a matter of days.

As a volunteer in Kuching she was given work in the Sarawak School Broadcasting Service and had to share accommodation with Gretchen Miller at the back of the office. For two years she worked for Radio Sarawak and wrote the school radio lessons for Primaries One and Two. Her work included splicing tapes and getting teachers to use the programmes for their English lessons.

Weekends were spent travelling throughout the first division and she spent her holidays in Kuala Lumpur and Bangkok.

She and Jimmy were engaged in 1967, marrying in the US in 1968. There, she went to work while Jimmy went back to his studies.

In 1976, the couple returned to Sarawak. Florence taught at St Columba’s Secondary School in Miri for a year. After their daughter, Suzanne, was born in December 1977 she quit teaching.

She was the Headmistress of Sri Mawar Kindergarten from 1985 to 2006. When she finally retired, she was already in her 60s. Jimmy, however, died in 2005.

Florence chose to stay on in Malaysia and is now living a very fulfilling life in Miri doing voluntary work.

She is a member of the Petroleum Women’s Club of Miri and Inner Wheeler Club of Miri. She tries to keep fit with aqua-aerobics and bowling. She also takes yoga lessons. She successfully edited an anthology of stories written by the Society of Writers of Northern Sarawak (Miri) and another edition is forthcoming.

Even today, it is easy to see Florence as the young energetic Peace Corps volunteer from California. She is still determined to make things right for people who are less fortunate than her.

She still has that spirit to speak her mind and put things in order for her friends and strangers. She often goes the extra mileto get things done!

Her American values from the 1960s continue to stay with her and asa Sarawakian relative has said of her, “She is the best among the best”.

Peace Corps | Malaysia

ON Jan12, 1962, the first group of Peace Corps Volunteers arrived in Kuala Lumpur. On August 23, the first group of volunteers arrived in Borneo.

Over the next 21 years, more than 4,000 American volunteers’ lives became intertwined with hundreds of communities across Malaysia.

Together, Malaysians and Americans marvelled at the rate of growth of the young nation of Malaysia, and worked hard to build stronger, healthier communities. These experiences began the history of deep, lifelong connections between the people of Malaysia and the US.

The US Embassy in Kuala Lumpur is commemorating the 50th Anniversary of Peace Corps in Malaysia this year, in an effort to bring together those Malaysians and Americans who have shared meaningful experiences and lost touch over the years, to renew old friendships and forge new connections.

Over the course of the next few months until the photo exhibition comes to Kuching in August, The Borneo Post will be publishing readers’ stories of their personal experiences with the Peace Corps on Mondays.

Whether you have a personal experience with a PCV or are a former PCV, send in your stories along with a brief description of yourself to us at peacecorps.bp@gmail.com.

Alternatively, readers can also email in and request for a special interview.

The celebration is not just commemorative – it is a celebration of the enduring friendship that continues today under the various exchange programmes between Malaysia and the United States, including the Fulbright English Teaching Assistant (ETA) programme that sends young Americans to teach in Terengganu, Pahang and Johor.

Stay tuned for the series of Peace Corps Anniversary Events that will occur all across Malaysia over the course of 2012.