In Memory of Biology

Personally, I've always liked biology. Half the people in my class think I'm crazy, but there you go. Mr. Chuah was my biology teacher for Form 4 and 5 and had been a constant in the school since I arrived in Form 1. So it was strange shift in reality when I found out that he had left this year because of his health. We all knew that he had to be in pretty bad condition for him to stop teaching. But it still came as shock when Clement SMSed me to say that Mr. Chuah had passed away from a heart attack.

In all honesty, though, my liking for biology had nothing whatsoever to do with Mr. Chuah's influence. To put it bluntly, he was as uninspiring as a sheet of sandpaper. He was the perfect epitome of the jaded senior teacher, one who possibly had been quite enthusiastic about his profession when he was younger, and who'd seen far too many winters (or in Manglish, monsoon seasons) during his tenure.

His teaching voice, which I can never forget, was monotonous enough to put anyone who was attempting to pay attention into mind-numbing doldrums. More of often than not, most people wouldn't even bother trying. I still remember the very first bio class, when he spent an hour and twenty minutes droning on and on about the study and origins of Biology, which comprised of just the first two pages of our textbook. From then on, bio classes would be usually two periods of talking (albeit relatively quietly), playing our own games (quite discreetly), doing our own work, or just plain sleeping.

He should be given credit, though, for trying to make classes more high-tech by bringing in the projector to make things slightly more colourful and interactive. And it was, sometimes, when there were pictures of the weird and wonderful, and the videos which sort of interesting at times. Unfortunately, the lights would be turned off, which made the class even more conducive for sleeping or other stuff that wouldn't be easily noticed.

Strangely enough, he never did seem to care about people doing their own work while he was teaching, or even sleeping (he did have it in against Dennis Toh, though). Or maybe he was just plain oblivious, which I highly doubt (teachers, as I've learnt being a student for 12 years, are much more perceptive than we give them credit for). I remember once, having the sudden noble oomph to pay full attention, planted myself next to a friend in the second row right in front of the whiteboard. As always, the execution proved too burdensome of a task. I had a good sleep for about 15 minutes during the second period, and woke to hear him going on about the different types of hormones. Honestly, you can be doing add maths right in the front row, fully equipped with graph paper and electronic calculator, and he'd probably keep talking.

Which brings me to the next point. Being as jaded as he was, he was so cynical that he probably wouldn't be moved even by the thought of children in poverty. Oh all right, maybe not, but he was very, very cynical of our performances in exams. He frequently said things like 'half of you all probably cannot even pass' or 'most of you not are not even becoming doctors, so why bother to study biology?'.

And Mr. Chuah, never, ever actually smiled in class, even though most of us still tried joking with him and treated with some form of friendliness. His 'smile' was more of a grimace, where he seemed to force his cheek muscles into curving upwards. And when he did actually smile, not grimace, it was rather quite scary. I think, to most people, he served as a personal challenge, where they would try to make him smile or (gasp!) laugh, and pry him for his personal and family details. Of course, no one could get a peep out of him (to my knowledge, anyway).

I do remember, as he was becoming increasingly sickly nearing our SPM and he had to go on leave for an operation, we (or to be more accurate, I think, Cheryl and Leconte) got a get-well-card and had everyone sign it. When we gave it to him, there seemed to be a hint of a tear in his eye! No one was sure, but some weeks later, someone said he/she saw the card on his table in the staff room. Maybe he wasn't as cynical or jaded as we thought him to be.

As he was the only biology teacher in the school, the 4S and 5S classes (and maybe K and L) would inevitably be taught by him. I think everyone will say that it was a most memorable experience, though not necessarily in the good sense. But once you leave school, and especially now that Mr. Chuah is gone, we can appreciate for the job he had done, for teaching us Biology the only way he knew how. It was all part of school life. And we can look back on those memories and laugh at those crazy times Mr. Chuah spent teaching us.

I'll always remember you, Mr. Chuah. God bless you and may you rest in peace.

Exam Post

My sister was asked by one of her customers (rich malay pro-government guy living in huge bungalow and owner of 5 cars, including 2 Mercedes; go figure...) to cater for a function at his house for around 300 people this saturday. Apparently his guests include many, many orang kenamaan, so everything, from the toasted bread to the nasi lemak and butter marble cake dessert, has to be perfect. Not that my sister and brother-in-law care about the many tetamu kenamaan, they just want the money and customers.

Since my mum is the official cake supplier of my sister's kopitiam/restaurant, cakes have been flying out of my mum's oven so fast and so many that there aren't enough oven mitts to go round. Well, that's a bit of a stretch, but the bottom line is that my mum has been baking around 7 cakes a day since tuesday.

Many, many cakes... there were actually more than these, but my sister had already taken a few earlier in the day and yesterday.

I am still trying to recover from yesterday's disastrous chemistry practical exam. So many things went wrong that I'm not really sure how to elaborate. From the fact that I couldn't figure out the final answer from my titration experiment, to the horribly untidy and unclear observations for salt analysis, to my own careless stupidity of forgetting to write down the chemical properties of the unknown chemical FA5, and that somehow the range of everyone's answers was from the minimum of 1 to the maximum of 10.

However, I am slightly consoled by the fact that I'm not the only whose practical was one unreactive mess. There were leaking burettes (new, or so they said); one of my friends (who would probably prefer to remain unnamed) had to use her mouth (!) to fill her pipette because her pipette filler couldn't work. The worst case was when someone else ran out of chemicals for the titration experiment, and they weren't any extra, and she wasn't allowed to take any from anyone else! The icing on the cake (or salt rubbed on a wound) was that this was the AS exams, the big Cambridge exam which everyone had preparing for the past year, and an exam which could significantly affect one's academic future or even career. So absolutely no pressure whatsoever. Ironically enough, I actually thought that chemistry would be my best practical. Clement, Dennis Toh or Saran, if you're reading this, shut up!

Today we had chemistry lecture, and this is the advice my lecturer gave us (paraphrasing):
"You must all focus on your next exams, don't worry about the practical otherwise you won't be able to sleep wan... don't ask me the answers for the practical, if I told you even more cannot sleep wan..." '__'

And then there was pure maths. I actually thought I had done decently well, until everyone got into an intense discussion about the paper and I found out that I had made grievously, minid-numbingly stupid mistakes. Let's just say the mistake could have been averted if I had just cross-checked my answer with the question. It still hurts to think about it, to be honest. Lesson learnt, though: never, ever discuss a paper after the exam.

That's only 2 exams done, I still have 9 (I think) to go. Up next week: Bio practical and applied maths (statistics).....

On a completely unrelated note, I found this article on yahoo which takes to a whole new level the saying 'hell hath no fury like a woman scorned':
http://videogames.yahoo.com/feature/online-divorcee-jailed-after-killing-virtual-hubby/1259111

The Deep Breath before the Plunge

So... in approximately 8 hrs and 15 minutes I will be sitting for my first AS exam, pure maths. Strangely enough, this paper I'm actually the relatively confident about, but the nervousness is still there. In unpleasently large amounts, if I'm being honest.

But it is the first exam, so I suppose you could call it the deep breath before the plunge, when one is afraid of that the water's so cold one would have to give up immediately, or whether one makes a bad mistake and hits his head on a rock and won't survive, or whether one dives in too deep and starts panicking so much that everything that's been learnt vanishes with the one second spent too long underwater. Most of all, one wonders whether he or she has prepared enough, practiced enough, worked hard enough, to make sure these things won't happen.

But the nervousness manifests itself in a variety of ways, one of which is me blogging right now at one o'clock in the morning. The other is that I try to take everything I need and more, so that I am prepared for any possible disaster (knock wood).

So this is the checklist I was going through my mind when I was packing 30 minutes ago (in no particular order) :

1. Statement of exam entry.
2. Notes and past year questions.
3. Two calculators - 570MS and 350MS, in case of the occurrance of my 570 going kaput (again, knock wood).
4. Chewing gum, which helps me think more clearly.
5. 2-3 packs of tissue, in case nature calls (knock wood again), or anything other emergency.
6. 4 different types of pen, each type in black and blue, plus one red pen for underlining, two mechanical pencils (each stocked with sufficient lead) and one eraser; all placed in a clear ziploc bag.
7. Protractors, compass, set square etc., also in the clear ziploc bag.
8. Long clear plastic ruler.
9. NOT ALLOWED: handphone, calculator cover, papers or notes, non-transparent stationery case and any other electronic study aids.

Right, the list did not sound so formal in my head, it's just how I write any kind of formal list. Also, I think I may have succeeded in making myself look like more neurotically-obsessive-compulsive-kiasu-study-nerdy-geeky than I already think I am, so I should mention in passing that I am really not like that in real life. Seriously.

It's already 1.30, so I'd really better stop and get some sleep. When I publish this post, it will be approximately 7 hours and 30 minutes until I step into that exam hall.