Once A Free..
Have been hit with a massive case of senti after reading Andrew's last post.
I'll take a break from my books to do this, I guess. I have a feeling it's going to be a very long post. Chances are, if you're not a Free, you'll lose the plot halfway. Or right now.
Once a Free, always a Free; never an ex-Free, just an old Free. No words can do nearly enough justice as to how much love we hold for our alma mater. We are an extremely cocky bunch; we're insanely proud of our pedigree, and rightly so.
The grand old lady will soon be turning two hundred. Which makes one wonder; how many students has she brought forth into the world?
So much happened in my five years there. I learnt about the human condition in unique, irreplicable ways. I'm grateful for those lessons, and given the choice, I wouldn't have it any other way.
1997. I remember Mrs. Wan Azizah. She taught Bahasa Malaysia to first formers. She wouldn't mark our work unless it was in cursive. That was stressful, learning how to write in cursive.
Remember Oliver Twist, Andrew?
1998. I remember my first detention. I was in Form 2. We were throwing rocks at each other in class during English. Mrs. Safarbee got pissed, and called for the prefects. We spent a whole Saturday morning cleaning toilets and picking up rubbish. I don't remember, but I think Alvin was chastised together with me. Were you, Alvin?
I remember Miss Yoong Soo Har, our history teacher. What was our nickname for her again? Wrinkled nipple? Nipple lizard? Something like that.. She was freaking scary, balls. She sent me to the principal once because I left class to go to the toilet without asking for prior permission. It was history period, but she had yet to arrive. I needed to piss. So I went. Both to the toilet, then to the principal's office.
1999. Form 3 was my best year in PFS. I don't know why. It just was. Remember Mrs. Ang, our science teacher? She was damn ganas, balls. She screamed at me at least once a week the whole year through. She was my form teacher, and I started missing class a lot that year for the band.
2000 and 2001 are a blur. I can't remember anything about them except for my time in the band. Seriously, I can't even remember who my classmates were for those two years.
I remember getting caught for cheating in Form 4 though. It was Additional Mathematics, end of year exams. A buku sifir with cheats in it was being passed around, and I had the shitty luck of receiving it when the invigilator was looking right at me. All hell broke loose.
I remember the principal calling my father from his office. The day ended with my dad sodomising me with a broomstick, and smashing my PC by hurling the CPU onto the floor. Great temper, my dad.
It would've been alright if I was the only one being penalised, but I remember the classmate who was passing me the buku sifir was given hell as well. And he was an innocent bystander. Casualty of war. Didn't even want the cheats. I've always felt sorry for that.. Sorry ah?
Do you remember the spot checks? I remember the way we'd hide our pornograpy in the trash bin, in our underwear, behind the chalk board. I remember sticking our liquid paper down our socks. Remember Mark Penaflorida? He'd tape VCDs around his thigh. Ingenious.
And of course.. the band. The Penang Free School Band. I'd gladly repeat the five years just to be in the band again. The band was where real stuff happened. Friendships were forged, the kind that lasts a lifetime. Lessons learnt were cemented by sweat and tears.
We still congregate at the band room whenever we're back home. We sit on the familar green metal chairs, take out our instruments, and jam. We talk cock till the sun rises, then walk to Jalan Terengganu for Hokkien Mee.
I'm looking for pictures, but most of them are back home in Penang. These are all I could find.
Sports day, 2001. Our final performance as fifth formers. Dyed our hair blue. Audience with principal ensued.
National Band Competition, 2000. Kuala Lumpur. A fantastic end to a fantastic journey.
1997. Drum Major Lew Phoi Heng. Assistants Ng Joe Han and Hafiz Ibrahim.
1998. Drum Major Faisaal Faruk. Assistants Tan Kah Siang and Ho Tatt Wei.
1999. Drum Major Jeremy Chan. Assistants Jeremy Chong and Ashvin Gopinathan. Principal, Mohd. Ibrahim Ibramsa and teacher advisor, Mr. Ang Chin Bean left PFS for good soon after. Thank you, sirs.
This is very much a personal post. It is long, horribly structured, and badly written. But I know I'll want to look back and read this someday.
Thank you, PFS, for all this, and so much more.
After almost two hundred years, how many Frees have you gifted?
Not nearly enough.
Here's to another two hundred years. Fortis Atque Fidelis.
I'll take a break from my books to do this, I guess. I have a feeling it's going to be a very long post. Chances are, if you're not a Free, you'll lose the plot halfway. Or right now.
Once a Free, always a Free; never an ex-Free, just an old Free. No words can do nearly enough justice as to how much love we hold for our alma mater. We are an extremely cocky bunch; we're insanely proud of our pedigree, and rightly so.
The grand old lady will soon be turning two hundred. Which makes one wonder; how many students has she brought forth into the world?
So much happened in my five years there. I learnt about the human condition in unique, irreplicable ways. I'm grateful for those lessons, and given the choice, I wouldn't have it any other way.
1997. I remember Mrs. Wan Azizah. She taught Bahasa Malaysia to first formers. She wouldn't mark our work unless it was in cursive. That was stressful, learning how to write in cursive.
Remember Oliver Twist, Andrew?
1998. I remember my first detention. I was in Form 2. We were throwing rocks at each other in class during English. Mrs. Safarbee got pissed, and called for the prefects. We spent a whole Saturday morning cleaning toilets and picking up rubbish. I don't remember, but I think Alvin was chastised together with me. Were you, Alvin?
I remember Miss Yoong Soo Har, our history teacher. What was our nickname for her again? Wrinkled nipple? Nipple lizard? Something like that.. She was freaking scary, balls. She sent me to the principal once because I left class to go to the toilet without asking for prior permission. It was history period, but she had yet to arrive. I needed to piss. So I went. Both to the toilet, then to the principal's office.
1999. Form 3 was my best year in PFS. I don't know why. It just was. Remember Mrs. Ang, our science teacher? She was damn ganas, balls. She screamed at me at least once a week the whole year through. She was my form teacher, and I started missing class a lot that year for the band.
2000 and 2001 are a blur. I can't remember anything about them except for my time in the band. Seriously, I can't even remember who my classmates were for those two years.
I remember getting caught for cheating in Form 4 though. It was Additional Mathematics, end of year exams. A buku sifir with cheats in it was being passed around, and I had the shitty luck of receiving it when the invigilator was looking right at me. All hell broke loose.
I remember the principal calling my father from his office. The day ended with my dad sodomising me with a broomstick, and smashing my PC by hurling the CPU onto the floor. Great temper, my dad.
It would've been alright if I was the only one being penalised, but I remember the classmate who was passing me the buku sifir was given hell as well. And he was an innocent bystander. Casualty of war. Didn't even want the cheats. I've always felt sorry for that.. Sorry ah?
Do you remember the spot checks? I remember the way we'd hide our pornograpy in the trash bin, in our underwear, behind the chalk board. I remember sticking our liquid paper down our socks. Remember Mark Penaflorida? He'd tape VCDs around his thigh. Ingenious.
And of course.. the band. The Penang Free School Band. I'd gladly repeat the five years just to be in the band again. The band was where real stuff happened. Friendships were forged, the kind that lasts a lifetime. Lessons learnt were cemented by sweat and tears.
We still congregate at the band room whenever we're back home. We sit on the familar green metal chairs, take out our instruments, and jam. We talk cock till the sun rises, then walk to Jalan Terengganu for Hokkien Mee.
I'm looking for pictures, but most of them are back home in Penang. These are all I could find.
Sports day, 2001. Our final performance as fifth formers. Dyed our hair blue. Audience with principal ensued.
National Band Competition, 2000. Kuala Lumpur. A fantastic end to a fantastic journey.
1997. Drum Major Lew Phoi Heng. Assistants Ng Joe Han and Hafiz Ibrahim.
1998. Drum Major Faisaal Faruk. Assistants Tan Kah Siang and Ho Tatt Wei.
1999. Drum Major Jeremy Chan. Assistants Jeremy Chong and Ashvin Gopinathan. Principal, Mohd. Ibrahim Ibramsa and teacher advisor, Mr. Ang Chin Bean left PFS for good soon after. Thank you, sirs.
This is very much a personal post. It is long, horribly structured, and badly written. But I know I'll want to look back and read this someday.
Thank you, PFS, for all this, and so much more.
After almost two hundred years, how many Frees have you gifted?
Not nearly enough.
Here's to another two hundred years. Fortis Atque Fidelis.
This entry was posted by tsh, on
Sunday, May 01, 2005.
You can bitch back.
ah forgot all bout my ah pin name now.. its been ages since i last heard it..
a real senti post there!the best memories are always definitely from the times we had there!
aargh. what with you two fellas posting about pfs... too much nostalgia, only the last trip back reminded me that i should be letting go.
Forte atque Fidelis too! :p
I love whisky!
i forgot all about ah pin too, man..
whoa.. good times.. i miss recess in the canteen la.. the really crowded table in the middle of the canteen? right outside the teacher's eating room? remember those days?
teng : i think reminiscing is all we can do.. it's what we do to blind ourselves to its decline.. sad shites.
i love whiskey, when i'm thirsty! roti bom, only for you!
good times, guys..
Good dose of senti, here too, dude. There's been some urban legend going on forever that the young Oliver during the final scenes of an actual performance, upon the shot Nancy, went distressedly "Nancy! Nancy!" to the audience, and then whispered to the actress, "Hurry up and dielah." She was that close to a supposedly dead body cracking up on stage.
Can you believe that it took some effort to go against the fear instinct with Ms Yoong even when I was a teacher? Still remember in vivid detail the screaming I got in Form 1 for not doing an assignment when I could barely cakap bahasa Malaysia. She was relatively cool in the later years though... and Mrs Ang was one of my favs, though there's a bit of history there: I was her assistant monitor her the year of her husband's death.
Cool blue hairdos!
My favourite teacher by far is Miss Mabel.. Even before I was in the Ed Board, when she taught me English..
And if memory serves, she the only teacher who has never yelled at me. I saw her on the road last summer when I was home. Drove up right next to her and honked multiple times. She just slowed down and shrank into her seat. Wasted. Haha.
Damn I don't even have a copy of Oliver on tape.. I think it's still with May Kew.
Anyways Andrew, are you still in touch with Hun Liang, Nithia or May Kew? Been years since I last saw any of them. Last I heard, May Kew's working in the fertility clinic in Gleneagles Penang.
Do msg me if you have any of their contacts..
And I was Mrs. Ang's assistant monitor too! What a coincidence.
Freaky deeky, baby.
Ok I'm too old to know what y'all are talkin' about ...
But the teachers ring a bell.
Couldn't agree more wit the post. Frees always have that lil' somethin' more than those standin' around em. To be brutally honest, SXI guys tend to have more style, better fashion sense and slightly more popular among the high school bimbo's ... but when it comes to substance, they'd smell burnt PFS rubber any day.
Here's to all da Frees wherever you may be. Fortis Atque Fidelis.
Do you have the band photo for 1996...kinda need it...please?
say it