Monday, August 03, 2009

The Father & The Sun

Part One

Back in 1979, my dad wrote a thesis on solar energy for his Masters in Environmental Science. Fast-forward to 2009, and I come home from a working trip in the jungles of Borneo to find the old man beaming, in a way that has not been seen since he hit andropause and burned most of his hard-earned retirement savings on some well-meaning, but mostly hare-brained solar-dehydrated banana snack manufacturing venture.


“My dream came true today!” he announced in greeting as I hauled my ass through the door, dragging along a backpack covered in caked-mud .


I wondered, oh, god, which dream is this? as my dad is a man of many dreams, far too many for his EPF savings to keep up with. But that’s okay, because my dad is the only retired man I know who still holds about 7 jobs.


“My dream came true today! My dream! MY DREAM! MY DREAM! MY DREAM!” my dad repeated himself, as if he was suffering from a PG-13 version of Tourettes.


Great, I thought, I’m away from home for 5 days and suddenly, all of my dad’s dreams have come true. What does that say about me?


“Noticed anything new, around the house?” he asked.


Lots of things were new around the house. The house itself is new. Sort of. We moved in about 4 months ago but thanks to a highly incompetent contractor, the house seemed doomed, like the rest of Klang Valley and many-a Malaysian mega-project, to a state of semi-completion. Still missing from the house is my mother’s planned wet kitchen and my dad’s “outdoor Balinese shower” – call me a pleb, but these are two not entirely necessary additions to a house that I will never understand. Especially the shower thing.


Why don’t you want a roof over your shower dad?! Why?!!!!!! The neighbour can see you, dad!!! THEY CAN SEE YOU!!!!! For God’s sake, Daddy, put a roof over that shower!!!!!!!!!! Or put some pants on!! And here’s an interesting fact: the unfortunate neighbour that will get a glimpse of my dad in his birthday suit, just so happens to be part of senior management at the conglomerate I work for. I can just imagine:


“So…Maryam……… I saw your father the other day…”


“Did you?”


“Yes, IN THE SHOWER!!!!!”


Awkward……


Maybe the neighbour will understand. It seems to me that all old men of a certain age are fond of the idea of being outdoors in their underwear (or worse). Take my other neighbour for example. I’m sure he realises, that from my bedroom balcony, I have a clear view of his backyard. In his backyard, he has a rather large fish pond. Every morning, as I stand around my balcony smoking, Ol’ Neighbour comes out to feed his fish in his underwear. The sight of his saggy, 100-year old ass peeking out from a thin cover of tighty-greying-whiteys burns a hole in my youthful, eye sockets. But then, I’ve probably been seen by yet another neighbour, splashing around in the pool while wearing a too-tiny swimsuit, with my wobbly, pasty, cottage-cheese thighs in full view. That’s 21st century neighbourly spirit for you. We’ve all seen eachother’s ass and somehow manage to not acknowledge eachother’s existence.


But back to the subject of my dad’s “dream”, I checked to see if his outdoor shower had finally been built in my absence. Nope. There was still only a patch of cement on the ground and some skeletal pillars that stuck out as sorely as tits would on a man.


I did notice however, that there were several new plants in our formerly bare garden. But then, we’ve always had trees, wherever we lived, so I doubt it would be anything my dad would shout about.

And he was indeed shouting, “My DREAM came true this week! MY DREAM! I have installed solar panels in the house. SOLAR PANELS!!!!!! WE’RE SOLAR POWERED MARYAM!!!! SOLAR POWERED!!! We’re the first house in Shah Alam to have it!”


But then, Shah Alam doesn’t have much of anything. Except badminton courts, round-a-bouts, free parking and people that don’t do anything but stare at other people. The township’s real source of pride, truly, just comes from the fact that it is not Klang.


“Soon, I will be able to save 500 ringgit a month on the electricity bill! I can even sell the energy generated by my solar panels back to TNB!” my dad exclaimed while my mother muttered under her breath, don’t exaggerate. “No, I’ll show you!!!!!!!” my dad continued.


My dad proceeded to show me a little meter which read: 0.05 kwH. “That’s how much energy we’ve generated,” he said.


Eh, I don’t know much about this shit, but it doesn’t seem like a lot.


“Well, it’s been cloudy today………………” he said. “And that’s not the point. The point is… my dream came true! MY DREAM!”


I have to hand it to my dad, no matter how much he irritates me. He is so easily motivated, which is not something I can say for myself. He’s not the kind to allow a mere cloud to cast a shadow over his dream (quite literally). No wonder he’s “retired” and still has 7 jobs. What would a real retiree do with all that motivation?


“So, what do you think about my solar panels, Maryam?! My dream! My dream!”


I think I should be very thankful that my dad’s thesis back in 1979 was about solar energy instead of nuclear energy. I would’ve come home to a nuclear reactor on the roof, an IAEA inspector knocking at the door (whose entry would be denied by my mother because “the house is in a mess!”), the US poised for a possible airstrike on Shah Alam, and my dad still bouncing around, shouting “My dream has come true! My DREAM! MY DREAM!