Sugar...Oh...Honey Honey

I was barely 17 when I had my first job. Together with 3 of my classmates, we scouted around Jurong industrial estate to look for a job, a day after school closed for the final term of year 1978.

We landed a job as packers in Sugar Industry of Singapore. Being young and inexperience, we just did what we were told to do. The journey into adulthood certainly was a sweet one. But being thrown into the world of makciks clad in blue uniforms was a frightening experience.

I was too shocked to realize that I was in a real world of the workforce. For 10 years of spending my time in school, with nothing else to talk about but homework and text books, I felt so alienated when the makciks started hurling vulgarities in their daily conversations. All kinds of words that I wouldn't even dare to think about, was making their ways into my ears. How did such a gentle looking, tudung adorned makciks, could speak such a language?

I was in denial. I still wanted to talk about books and teachers and science projects. I refused to speak the same language as them, in the end, I was outcast, even by my 3 friends. I was projected as an anti-social, because I would rather talk to Mary and Alice, the deaf and mute, than to listen to the gossips of makciks about who is going out with whom. I wasn't brought up that way. A vulgar word is a big NO, and gossips are never not my cup of tea.

Every morning, when I made my way to work, with sweet smell of brown sugar that reminded me of cendol and lopis, I kept thinking of the vulgarities that I will have to hear all day long. I felt abused, although the vulgarities weren't intended for me but part of their conversation, listening to each word made me cringed in fear. I felt much safer in the company of Mary and Alice, than the makciks with fouled mouth. God save them.

But for all Allah Greatness, within 4 months of working in a state of covering oneself in icing sugar - literally, and sharing the silence world of Mary and Alice, I was transferred to the office building as a Receptionist. As I have always said, 'kita ni dipelihara'. Without my knowing, I was being watched, every morning and evening, by the Human Resource Manager. Every time I walked pass the office building, there will be a group of people standing by the window, watching. I thought that they were just looking out for the latecomers, or the early birds, which ever they refer.

Why did they pick me? Apart from my good grades, it was because I 'float when I walk' – I don't know what it meant, still, but I was grateful for what ever reasons. I swear I wasn't doing any drugs... now then, not now, not ever.

No longer was I covered with sugar, no longer do I have to shake the cartons packed with 10 kg sugar. No longer do I have to work until 9.30 pm and earn a meager $11 per day.

I was blessed. I was fortunate. While my 3 friends struggled with the cube sugar and mini-packs, I was sitting behind a desk, in an air conditioned room, smiling all day long and answering phone calls with "Sugar...." and once in a while, I will hear at the other end someone will response with "oh... honey, honey". My sweet life begins.

Last night, while having supper with the love of my life, Jazz, someone came up to us and asked :

Stranger : Ni Nor eh?
Me : Saya. Ni... Siapa eh?
Stranger : Tak kenal ke? Ni Abang Malik laaa... SIS!
Me : Oh!! Abang Malik! apa kabar?
Abg Malik : Dari tadi Abang Malik tengok, macam kenal.... Ni macam Nor Sugar... terus Abang Malik datang. Lama tak nampak Nor.

After the usual pleasantries and a brief updates of our lives, he took his leaves. He now has 3 grandchildren and a son who studied in London and now doing well in property line.

And I wonder, after 24 years since I left Sugar Industry now known as SIS '88, someone came up to me and still remembers … I must have left a great impact, a good impression of myself in that place. That really makes me feel good inside. A good sign indeed.