I just don't believe it. Ani and me got stranded.
Yes, we got stranded at LA, Los Angeles International Airport (LAX) to be exact.
It was around May 2000. We were on our way to visit Aida at Purdue University. Aida had just enrolled in January 2000 at the university.
We just flew into LAX from Kuala Lumpur and after gathering the immigaration, gathered our luggage and cleared the customes we went to the domestic terminal where Southwest Airlines is located. I went in to airlines counter.
Then only it got to me that I did not have the ticket. We booked the ticket but I did not collect in KL. Nevertheless, I thought it can be bought over the counter since we already book it.
Yes, our names are in, said the lady manning the counter. Booked. Great.
"But, where's your ticket sir", she asked.
Then it became a problem. I tried to buy over the counter. The price is trile than the price in KL. Exhorbitant.
I got out from the que. Tried to figure the next course of action.
I went to another counter. Mid-America Airways. Yes the price is reasonable. But the flight is scheduled on tomorrow 5.00 pm. We decided to book it anyway. The difference in price is more than enough to pay for the hotel and expenses of overnight in LA.
Since I am no stranger in LA, I booked a car, drove to one of Best Westerns and booked ourself a room. Tomorrown morning we spent sometime driving to USC and aorund Santa Monica.
It was an interetsting "stranded" anyway. By the way we did phone Aida of our wayward journey.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Once Upon A Time - RM5 to UPM
It is unbeleivable but it's true. Not many will believe when I related the story but it was true. Even I myself fould it hard to believe after all these years. It happened more nearly 35 years ago.
It was around June 1973. The university just opened its doors and I am accepted to pursue my Diploma Pertanian at UPM Serdang.
I left Ipoh where I was attending my Lower Six Form and boarded the train withnthe boys for their term holidays. Short of funds I became one of the "smuggler" by joining the group ticket to southbound students. It was easy anyway as the guard was unable to check the group ticket issued by travel warrants.
Arriving in KL I joined Fathil Sharif to stay at his uncle's house in telok Datuk Banting. His uncle was a headmaster in Banting at that time. I stayed there for a few days while waiting for UPM to open.
Come the day I went off bu bus from banting to KL and then from Pudu bus stop (no Puduraya yet at that time) by bus to UPM. UPM students used to call that bus ride as flight 707.
When I arrived in UPM I have only RM5 in my pocket. I was quite panicky but just went along. I know there are some STARIAN seniors in UPM and I will look for them to get some loan if need arises.
That RM5 was used to pay for the persatuan registration. I am left with no money. But not to worry as the meals (4 times - breakfast, luch, tea and dinner) are available from the dining hall. It kept me going anyway.
I did borrow a few dollars from one of my STAR friends. I forgot whom. But it kep me going until I got some money from my godfather Dato (Tun) Syed Ahmad who was the Kedah MB at that time.
It was around June 1973. The university just opened its doors and I am accepted to pursue my Diploma Pertanian at UPM Serdang.
I left Ipoh where I was attending my Lower Six Form and boarded the train withnthe boys for their term holidays. Short of funds I became one of the "smuggler" by joining the group ticket to southbound students. It was easy anyway as the guard was unable to check the group ticket issued by travel warrants.
Arriving in KL I joined Fathil Sharif to stay at his uncle's house in telok Datuk Banting. His uncle was a headmaster in Banting at that time. I stayed there for a few days while waiting for UPM to open.
Come the day I went off bu bus from banting to KL and then from Pudu bus stop (no Puduraya yet at that time) by bus to UPM. UPM students used to call that bus ride as flight 707.
When I arrived in UPM I have only RM5 in my pocket. I was quite panicky but just went along. I know there are some STARIAN seniors in UPM and I will look for them to get some loan if need arises.
That RM5 was used to pay for the persatuan registration. I am left with no money. But not to worry as the meals (4 times - breakfast, luch, tea and dinner) are available from the dining hall. It kept me going anyway.
I did borrow a few dollars from one of my STAR friends. I forgot whom. But it kep me going until I got some money from my godfather Dato (Tun) Syed Ahmad who was the Kedah MB at that time.
Once Upon A Time - Hanged by Buffalo's Horn
I want to recollect the dramatic and interesting episodes of my life. This is one of the reminisces.
I was young then. Just started schooling. maybe around darjah 1 or 2.
My father used to rear a few cattles, a herd of goats and 3 buffaloes. I used to help him look after the animals. As the buffaloes are used to work the padi fields and quite timid, I used to ride on one of the buffaloes.
One day while my father was milking one of his buufaloes, I tried to ride the other buffalo. She was tied to the stump. As I was struggling to mount her front legs, the docile animal moved wildly suddenly.
I lost my balance and grip on her mound and was thrown to the front. My short, I was bafefooted and without the shirt, was caught by her horn.
I was shouting for help to my father. My father was amused and laughedd heartily. He did not help me immediately. He let hung by the horn. I was struggling to free myself but to no avail. Luckily, as if sympathetic to my predicament, the buffalo just stood still.
After sometime, realising that I could not free myself, my father came to my rescue. He lifted me up and I was free.
I was shocked from the event. But it did not stop me from riding the buffalo again. It was fun. And it was an adventure of my childhood days.
I was young then. Just started schooling. maybe around darjah 1 or 2.
My father used to rear a few cattles, a herd of goats and 3 buffaloes. I used to help him look after the animals. As the buffaloes are used to work the padi fields and quite timid, I used to ride on one of the buffaloes.
One day while my father was milking one of his buufaloes, I tried to ride the other buffalo. She was tied to the stump. As I was struggling to mount her front legs, the docile animal moved wildly suddenly.
I lost my balance and grip on her mound and was thrown to the front. My short, I was bafefooted and without the shirt, was caught by her horn.
I was shouting for help to my father. My father was amused and laughedd heartily. He did not help me immediately. He let hung by the horn. I was struggling to free myself but to no avail. Luckily, as if sympathetic to my predicament, the buffalo just stood still.
After sometime, realising that I could not free myself, my father came to my rescue. He lifted me up and I was free.
I was shocked from the event. But it did not stop me from riding the buffalo again. It was fun. And it was an adventure of my childhood days.
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