Wednesday December 5, 2007
Words about work
WORD’S UP, EH POH NIM?
By LYDIA TEH
LAST month, Eh Poh Nim and her mother visited Penang. On the second day of their trip, they hitched a ride on a trishaw in bustling Georgetown.
The trishaw man greeted them with a big smile. “Good morning, ladies,” he said. “Come ride my trishaw and I’ll give you a ride to remember.”
Eh Poh Nim stared at the man. He wore a Nike cap, a Hard Rock Café T-shirt and Bermuda shorts.
“You don’t look like a typical trishaw rider to me. Did you use to work in an office?” Eh Poh Nim asked.
“You’re pretty sharp, Miss. Yeah, I used to be a pen pusher. I had a job doing tedious paperwork with the government up until last year.”
“Aiya, why did you quit? It’s so good to work for the government. You get pension when you retire,” Mrs Eh said.
“Aunty, my boss used to tell me that I was the most hardworking in a department of 50 people. I did all the donkey work.”
“What was the hard work you did?” Eh Poh Nim asked.
“Folding forms and stuffing them into envelopes. I had my hands full all the time. I was so busy I didn’t have time to do anything else and that included sacrificing my tea breaks. If you can’t take advantage of your tea breaks, then you might as well quit the civil service. So I did.”
“You’re being cynical,” Eh Poh Nim said wryly.
“I’m not. Here, have a coconut candy.” He dipped his hand into a cloth pouch hanging from the bicycle bar and fished out two pieces of cellophane-wrapped candy for the women.
“It’s so creamy and delicious,” Mrs Eh said with her mouth full.
“Want to buy some? Cheap, cheap. Only five ringgit for 10 pieces,” the trishaw man said.
“You’re strange. You quit a nice government job to ride a trishaw and sell candy. I don’t understand you at all,” Mrs Eh said, shaking her head.
“Aunty, when you’re up to your eyeballs in work, you’ll understand. I had so much to do I couldn’t manage anymore. I even had nightmares about stacks of envelopes transforming into a paper monster. It’s scary, I tell you.” He shuddered involuntarily.
“Mmm ? I think your boss practised the Peter Principle,” Eh Poh Nim said, thoughtfully.
“What’s that?”
“It’s a theory which suggests that employees are piled with more responsibilities until they can’t work effectively.”
“Huh! My boss thought I was Superman but I don’t have a body of steel. You know what happened? I had a nervous breakdown. I broke out in cold sweat and started trembling violently. The doctor warned me to take it easy, so I took three months’ leave to rest,” he said.
“Your boss must have been happy to have you back in harness after your prolonged leave.”
“What do you mean by that? You talk strange, Miss.”
Mrs Eh butted in, “My Poh Nim is very good at English. She’s not strange at all. You tell him what you mean, Poh Nim.”
“No need to get all worked up, Ma,” Eh Poh Nim reassured her mother. “Being upset is not good for your heart. Anyway,” she said to the trishaw man, “back in harness means to get back to work after a period of absence.”
“Of course my boss was glad. But I spoiled it for him by resigning,” he chuckled. “I had to leave. It’s not worth working my guts out for a miserly pension. I’d rather work hard for myself like what I’m doing now.”
“Yeah, I can see you’re putting your shoulder to the wheel now,” Eh Poh Nim says.
“Actually I’m putting my feet to the pedal, like this.” He raised his buttocks from the saddle and pedalled standing up.
“Up and down and round and round, here I come, the trishawman, up and down and round and round, here comes the trishawman,” he sang to the tune of Mulberry Bush.
Eh Poh Nim and her mother laughed.
“What a cute song,” Mrs Eh said.
“You’re going about your work vigorously indeed but you seem happy to be doing so,” Eh Poh Nim said with a smile. “Hope you don’t mind my asking but are you earning enough to feed your family?”
“Poh Nim, since when have you become such a busybody, huh?” Mrs Eh exclaimed.
“It’s okay, aunty. It’s no secret that trishaw riders don’t earn enough. That’s why I’m selling coconut candy for a side income.”
“We’ll take 10 packets. Let’s see, there’s your uncle, aunty, Mrs Chin, Jane ?.” Mrs Eh rattled off a few more names as she counted them on her fingers.
* Lydia Teh is the author of Honk! If You’re Malaysian and Life’s Like That – Scenes from Malaysian Life, available at good bookstores. Visit her blog at lydiateh.word press.com for more Eh Poh Nim stories.
Source:
RSS
