Ju, Jo or Joe?

The Roman Catholic Missionaries had come up the shores of the island of Borneo, choosing the north-west side of the island, where Jesselton was, as their landing place. That was well over a hundred years ago. They brought with them mordenity and influence to the thinking of the local people. They especially brought with them a new belief, a belief in a heavenly God, God the Father Almighty and the morden aclaimed 'Good News' of salvation by Jesus Christ, God's only Son. Together with the influence-dessiminated believes came the introduction of cannonised saints' names, suggested taken by the local believers as additions to their existing names. Newly borns were especially recommended to take up names of saints from foreign lands.

 

On 1^st February, 1942, about 66 years ago this year, 2008, a bundle-of-joy-daughter, the first-born, was born of a mother. That baby girl was given Christian-Catholic names. Time passed by and the baby girl grew up to be a bounching young girl. When that bounching young girl was almost 2 years old, a baby boy, a brother to her, was born of her mother, his mother too, on 29^th January, 1944. Minan Oginis, as many adults called her, or, Odu Oginis, as she was popularly called by many younger people, was undoubtedly the highly regarded midwife in attendance. She must have stayed in the same house long before the delivery time for that was the custom practised at that time. Nearly all the young people in the villages around were delivered by the famous village grand midwife, Odu Oginis. If a young person's name was mentioned, Odu Oginis would say, "Ah, but she's my daughter!" or, "He's my son!". She meant she was the midwife who saw to it that the baby was carefully laid down in the mother's arms.

 

When the babyboy was born, the infant birth-cry must have been louder than usual. The little conversation that issued could have been, "Oonu kaa, kusai?" "Ooh". "'Patut no, opuod poogi o tiad." ("What was it, a boy?" "Yes." "No wonder, the cry was so loud".) It was noted that that infant boy had an exceptionally big mouth. This must have been well displayed when it opened its mouth to cry. Odu Oginis must have stayed longer with the nursing mother because of the sensitive big mouth crying baby. Unknown to all onlookers at that time, the sensitive crying baby was at an early stage of developing a mysterious skin disease, locally code-named a Japanese skin disease.

 

My mother told me much later that it was a miracle that I continued to live my 1^st year. My skin disease was so severe that my mother had to use banana leaves to wrap me in, in the stead of a proper napkin. She said that the banana leaves were cooler to soothe my bare flesh. It did not stick to the flesh, rather the bared-skin body would slip and slide drop of the banana leaves if one was not too careful.

 

My grandmother and aunties must have criss-crossed the hills around Guntiban to look for tongkuasam (herbal medicine) and other trees for their vonod (medicinal sap juice). They must have reached as far as Suok Kianau to look for any herbal plants expressedly or impliedly mentioned to them by others, either in passing or in truthful intentions. I was surely indeed quite a bother to the members of the immediate family and the family circle. After hearing all those hardships I had incurred to my parents and relatives around when I was still small, I wondered whether it had ever crossed my parents' mind not to really mind at all should I had died during those troublesome years.

 

But God was forever great. He saw to it that I survived. The skin disease left me completely when I was, probably, doing my 2^nd year. Very much early, around the time of my birth, there must have been discussions among the people in the house, between my father and mother together with my aunties and uncles, as to what name should be given to me. My father, in much later years, confirmed to me his involvement in naming me Julius. A distant cousin who was born almost at the same time as me in Kampung Penampang, further down the Moyog River, was named by his parents, Julius. So my father also called me, Julius. It was theorized that everyone in the household then called me, Ju, a short form for, Julius. Nice name. In much, much later years, when I went to school, my must-be learned teacher called me, Joe, the short form for Joseph, not, Ju, for Julius. But my name then was not Joseph. When I had the opportunity to craftily adjust my given names, I took, Joseph, as my Confirmation name so as to put right what had been, sort of, collaboratively put wrong.

 

In my real kampung-environment growing-up years, with the very limited kampung growing-up contemporaries as friends, there was a jingle which had the mention of the name Joe. My so-called growing-up friends sang the jingle to tease me.

 

        Joe, Joe Kanatok

        Nokojiil sominggu

        Minanakau do Natok!

 

 

 

 

 

 

What is there in a name?

 

 

My given names, according to my Roman Catholic Church Baptismal Certificate stated Joannes Julius. Where was the name Joannes from? No one could enlighten me as to who suggested the name for me! Could Emol's other name be Joannes? He was my uncle, my mother's youngest brother. Emol died in his teens due to nohusian. (mysterious reasons). The name, Joannes, was incidentally taken by the late Emol's nephew, Vivian. I did not mind I had that name, except that I did not use it. It was therefore not framed in my NRIC, the official tag-card for all Malaysian citizens. The names I sported on my NRIC was Joseph Julius Kinajil, Kinajil being my grandfather's name. I also used a supplimentary NRIC which stated my alias names as Joseph Tangit. My alias is also stated in my high quality MyCard if its chip-piece was machine-read.

 

My everyday name is Joe Tangit, otherwise, Joseph Tangit. Formally, my full name is Joe Tangit Kinajil or Joseph Tangit Kinajil. On all formal ducuments my name is Joseph Julius Kinajil @ Joseph Tangit. Sometimes, my name is reversed mistakenly as Joseph Tangit @ Joseph Julius Kinajil. Such a case was for my application for a personal Post Office Box No. 70, in Penampang. My gazetted name for my BSK Award from the State Government was simply Joseph Tangit which is my commonly used name as a Government Officer when I was still in service. My names as appended on all four University Certificates from England are the mixtures of Joseph Julius Tangit Kinajil. The Colombo Plan Scholarship Training Certificate from Australia is appended simply with the name Joseph Tangit.

 

There was a time when I was seriously asked to abandon the use of the surname, Tangit, and to assume the surname, Kinajil, in its stead. I was given the impression that I may have to take a Deed Poll to effect changes. I had my guesses as to the reasons why I was asked to do so. I really kept quite about the order coming from an elder. If my guesses of the reasons were true, then I did not like them. Not at all! I was therefore thick-headed and continued to use, Tangit, as my surname, the surname I have given for my children and consequently then assumed by my grandsons, my sons' offsprings. I am prepared to start a new family tree steming from Tangit as the source. If there are any of my 2 sons and 2 daughters who would prefer the use of Kinajil as their everyday surname, to concur with the rest of the upper and lower lines, then I would not put down my feet to bar them. They are free to manipulate the use of names familiar to them as long as they realise as to the theory, "what is there in a name!"

 

Terkenal or Famous

Where ever he went, he was terkenal. He was famous… all in good ways of course! When he went to Sandakan, to Tenom, to Tuaran, to Inanam, in Penampang, he was well known. Who did not know him personally or, at least, heard of him? An old man, visualised as a jolly-good fellow, who was a member of the then Police Field Force of the pre Malaysia era, during the British Colonial rule of North Borneo, now, Sabah, but, of course, now gone, .. peace be upon his soul, .. was naturally well remembered by those who were privileged to have known him. Memories of him, his witty and almost comical reactions to things around him or said to him, both by the young and old, remained cherished by his grandchildren, so to speak. He had no direct grandchildren as his only child, it was said, did not hold on to life for long, again, so to speak. This old man was loaded with gimat and the like, and, by natural and social Kadazandusun living standard, the off-springs of people of that so called calibre did not stay on earth long. That child did not survive to adulthood. His brothers or sisters, as narrated by Kondu Pilaku, a great grandchild of one of his sisters, did have many children whom he called grandchildren and who all called him aki, grandfather. Kampung Mangkaladon, a kampung beyond the blue mountains, so to speak, as seen north-eastwards from Donggongon town tamu ground, was Ganggal’s original kampung. Since he was a member of the PFF in those days, he must have then temporarily stayed at police barracks and stations during his employment days. He naturally only went back to his roots when his employment terms expired. It was normal for PFF personnel to sign up for only so many years of service. Their signed-up terms could have not involved any monthly financial benefits upon retirement. “I did not hear of any instance when he went to get his pension money”, said Pilaku. He had indeed experienced some of the realised developments which did come by after independence as he only passed on, it was said, in post Y2K era. The present Penampang-Tambunan sealed road and the road to Pukak in Kiulu were frequented by this active old man. Where ever he was, he was always seen with his juli, believed to contain his personal things. His trouser’s pockets might have been too small for what he used to carry with him all around. It was reputed that he used to carry around with him one or two bottles of air bingong. Earlier on he had visited his sister, Lombitoi, and family, in kampung Tintap. He had stayed on with them for quite a while so much so that all his grandchildren had come to fall in love with him. His grandchildren would all sit down around him listening to his tales of his personal life’s experiences and adventures. As he told his stories, the children sat around him with their mouths agape, their eyes unblinking. This old man must have been a natural story-teller. He could captivate his listeners. No doubt, as others might do, too, he had added other interesting details to his tales to make listening pleasant for adult minds. To his young grandchildren his tales were fantastic truths of unimaginable magnitudes! Sadam, a younger great grandson, still marvelled at his grandfather’s tales of his catch of a giant centipede of one finger span length rib-bones on either sides of its body! There was also a time when this grandfather of theirs was running passed them. Then they asked, “Oonu titangkus-tangkus nu dii oi Aki?” (Why are you running, Aki?) “Oonu kanu, au ko kokito dilo Rogon momogusa dogo?” (You ask why… can’t you see the devils chasing me ?) He was loaded with the “whatever he had in his juli”. He could indeed be living in the twilight zone … his own willed twilight zone. He could have indeed caught that giant centipede … a twilight zone centipede which he then ‘twilightedly’ kept in his juli! The harmless devils were his friends and among friends running after each other in joyful play was a common scene. That could have been the witnessed scenario! It was only long after this grand old man had passed on and the then young great grandchildren had grown older that it was realised … all what he had said, all what he had advised, could not be believed, could not be followed. Among the many dozens great grandchildren, when one became naughty and narrated something which was far from what was factual, others would be heard to give advice, “Ada pinggaaganggal!”. Long after his visit to kampung Tintap, he happened to visit kampung Mantob, a kampung further up kampung Pukak in the Kiulu district. He was visiting the Domidal family. That family, too, was very much a family to him. Joy, Domidal’s eldest, and Pilaku, from kampung Tintap, were cousins since Pilaku’s father, Garib, was Domidal’s brother. Those two brothers got separated from each other when they were still very young boys. At one of Ganggal’s visits to the Domidals, he mentioned to them, “Haro kaaka bo do tobpinai dokoyu hilood Penampang.” (Your relative, it was heard, was living in Penampang). Although he knew for sure that Domidal’s brother was in Penampang, he still chose to use the doubt denoting word, “kaaka”. That prompted Joy’s mother to get assurance as to the truth of his revelation, fully knowing that what he could be saying could not be always true. “Otopot kopio oi Gaman?” (Truly, Gaman?) “Oo, bo!” (Yes, lah). “Nga’, mugad tokou pogihum diolo’ hiloo’d Penampang do korikot ku kaagu’ dohiti’.” (We would only make the trip to Penampang during my next visit.) As a way of making conversation, Joy’s mother told Ganggal that he had better be true for she would charge him for petrol cost if the trip ended up in nought. Ganggal released his own joyful style of laughter which further confirmed Domidal’s wife’s doubts. A few weeks from that good-news-revealing visit, Ganggal came to Domidal’s residence again for the promised Penampang trip. He had with him a quarter full bottle of air bingong. He was in the process of sipping thriftily its contents. He made sure he still had some left for the next morning. The Domidals refrained from such drinking practice as they were barred by their beliefs. Ganggal did not permit the trip done the same day as he said, “Mibok katuu tokou’d kosuabon suuwab.” (We would only start tomorrow morning). Joy, the would-be driver, got the indication that the place they were heading for must be very far away. Sure enough, early the next morning Ganggal requested for breakfast served. He and Joy had their good fill. They together left, Joy at the wheel. Knowing that they were heading for a kampong where he could almost swim in air bingong, he lavishly consumed his bottle. That sent him to sleep for the most part of the journey from kampong Mantob to Penampang district. Earlier on during the journey he would tell Joy of the different kampong names on the way. When they came to Inanam town he told Joy to take the Bambangan by-pass to save journey time. Joy was well-travelled too and told Ganggal that to reach Donggongon town was to turn right and to reach Tambunan was to turn left. Ganggal said that to turn left was the right direction. Joy’s intention was to get some buah tangan since they were visiting some long-lost relatives. Ganggal, in so many words, told Joy that they were heading for a relative’s house which surely had some rice to spare. In the end they did not go to Donggongon town but turned Tambunan way. From that point, the old man went to sleep. At each road junction Joy would ask, “Osudu po aki?” (Is it still far, aki?) In his near sleeping state he was heard saying, “Osoduu po”. Such question and answer were repeated many times until they reached Gunung Emas Hilltop Resort. “Odoi! Odoi! Odoi!, tuuk ku po dia’! Osomok tokou no’d Tambunan diti!,” Ganggal almost shouted as he pointed out to his driver the jungle shortcut track he used to take when he returned to his kampong. “Nokuro iri oi Aki?”, Joy asked. “Notusan batu no o kinotolibon dito!”, he said pretending to be quite angry. He fully knew that he was the greater party to the whole folly. Joy deposited him in one of the sheds where he had kampong men and women friends selling their land produce to road travellers. That was an opportunity for him to socialise while Joy rushed further to the Resort area. He wanted to top up his diminished supply of diesel fuel! They meekly drove down the mountain to kampong Moyog, kampong Kibunut, kampong Rugading, kampong Sangai Sangai then kampong Babagon. They took the left hand turning at the Podsupuan and headed for kampong Tintap, to Garib’s house. When they arrived at the house, he told Joy to wait in the vehicle while he went down to scout around. The household were all out, save for young Sadam. He had that old man’s gut to ask Sadam to go and call them home. That was the beginning of a reunion of two brothers who had parted at childhood until both had families of their own.

For Good Luck

Some school of thoughts are thought of as strengthening agents to the vague notion that there is no such thing a bad luck … but only missed opportunities. It goes without saying then that if we do not slip opportunities through our fingers, so to speak, then we are indeed always flooded with good luck! To the mindful and well-humoured, those who would not want opportunities to slip through their fingers, they would indeed then wallow in good luck and good fortune. John in 10:10 had this to say about this, too, when he stated what our Lord Jesus said, “ …I have come so that you might have life and life in all its fullness.” ‘Life in all its fullness’, in essence, could be interpreted as enveloped in good fortune, richness, abundance of worldly properties and money, joys, friendships and all earthly physiological needs in accordance with God’s plans. Some people do not consider this notion, bad luck or missed opportunities as something bad for they in themselves are true and good teachers. They make us realise that things could have turned out better if only we could have ‘turned the screw tighter, or othertwise, looser, by one more turn of the screw driver’. They make us reflect, “If I were given the opportunity to do this thing all over again, what would I do differently?” On the other hand, good luck is not at all vague but quite apparent, almost tangible, being there somewhere, to be scrutinised and be seen clearly, to be touched, to be plucked, for they may only be within arm-reach! All one had to do was to stretch out one’s hand, so to speak, and grab them. Good things that come by or that happen are generally considered by human standard as good luck. As expressly rather than impliedly mentioned in the celebrant’s invocation prayers during the Holy Mass, all good things come from God the Almighty. Human thinking may then sidestep to wonder as to why unfortunate things indeed do happen to all God’s creation, even among God’s good people. Remember the incident when quite a number of the priests’ vehicles were smashed up by a certain local individual at a resort retreat centre? It was discerned that that was God’s language. He is communicating Himself with everyone who knows about the incident. The degree of how much one knows about the story is the measure of a divine communicative message one would get. But, God has also said that His ways are not men’s ways, that men’s wisdoms are folly to God. Coming to think of God’s thoughts and ways, the conflict with Israel and Palestine nowadays dates back to more than 2009 years ago. I remembered having been told a story of how young David, an Israelite, killed a full-fledged warrior Goliath, a giant Palestinian, using a stone sling. David was with God and it was not established whether Goliath was not close by to God’s ways. But, if you are given an orange during the the Chinese New Year season, do not think twice, take it for it is said it’s for good luck. It is said that it’s good luck for both the giver and the receiver. If you are given a red packet with an Ang Pau inside, take it, for it is said it’s for good luck. If you are given a red packet with a considerable amount of Ang Pau money inside, as it had happened to me, take it in glee and with thanks for it is not only for good luck, but it is indeed in itself and by itself applied good luck! The good luck which it would bring would then be almost quaranteed. A case of double good luck.

A start of a new era...

I was specifically asked to drop my present surname, Tangit, and to fall in line like all the rest of the Kinajil clans to use Kinajil in stead. The reason given to me was not to my liking. The female Tangit offsprings were glad to simply take their spouses’ name in all their daily name-needs. I refused to adhere by simply keeping quite and by none compliance.

Dreams

Dr. A.J.A. Peter, in so many words, once suggested that we ought to remember our dreams. The likelihood was that once we woke up during the night or in the morning, we would not remember much of the dreams we had during our sleeptime…at our Alpha, Theta or even at our Delta Level of our mind. He even suggested to do what one would not dream of doing, and that was, to get a pen and a dream notebook ready, placing them within arm-length… easy reach … from our bed. As and when we were blessed with a dream or two sometimes, we should write them down so that we would not forget them. We could then make use of dreams, analysing them to guide us through life everyday...during the Beta Level of our mind. He mentioned, during his Mind Control lectures in 1978, that dream control is a formula-type technique in three steps that one can use to practise remembering dreams. He conducted a Mind Control Course in 1978. I was previledged to get sponsored to attend the Course.

Dreams were very biblical … there was no RC religious barring from believing in dreams. The bible, the Old Testament in special reference, was loaded with narratives of dreams, dreams dreamt by influential individuals implaced by God as His instruments during the course of the passage of time and space in history. Those dreams which carried God’s warnings rather than mere messages to mankind, depicting God’s thoughts which He said differred from men’s, were allowed by God to be known to men through God’s wisdom-gifted interpreters especially enlightened by God to do His will. Do we still remember Joseph, the youngest of the brothers, who interpreted the Pharoe’s dreams? God rewarded him for his God-given wisdom making the Pharoes as the rewarding instruments. Prophet Daniel in another time, space and place in history interpreted dreams. Dreams were God’s strange ways to communicate his thoughts to men. He, in all eternity, says that His ways are not men’s ways.

One’s certain segments of experience, it is said, enter one’s dream life. It is said, too, that these segments have some sort of “pluses” attached to them so that they become used by the brain for materials of dreams. All these were said by that referred to Dr. in his Mind Control Course. He further said that dreams reflect one’s own experience, attitude, and concern, and perhaps the best interpreter of one’s dreams is the dreamer himself or herself.

But, without referring to known academic concerns, uncertified philosophical expoundments and world-knowledge or other theories, what do our typical immediate nieghbours say when we dream of departed loved ones? I narrated a dream of a departed loved one, only a short vedioclip-length like dream, and in unision, as if hand-conducted, they simultaneously entoned, “offer her a Holy Mass”. That expoundment, it sounded, came straight from the hearts. I often dream of this old lady I was so familiar with, but now long gone. I have never come around with the Holy Mass offer yet. Is a dream also used as a medium of communication by the spirit of the departed to the spirit of the still-living mortals? Was the disappointment of non-compliance to beliefs of offering a Holy Mass so great that the spirit tried to reach other members of the family? And, was it too much a feeling of a lose to part with RM5.00 or so per Holy Mass offer? What could be the hindering factor to a simple single compliance to the simultaneous entonement heard, “offer her a Holy Mass” ?

Many other dreams were the like of snapshots or short vedioclips but rarely the like of a full length vedio plays. They were only of objects, half-bodied individuals seemed seen in a social setting without scienic backgrounds. If the dreamt individuals were seen or witnessed to be in speech act, then they could not be audible heard but yet the dreamer sometimes understood clearly as to what they had actually said, ..for it was theorized that communication was from spirit-to-spirit. Dreams could be short actions, like throwing, driving a car or flying a plane, sometimes of conditions, like deaths, but sometimes, only sometimes and very rarely, a short play … a storylike. Some were socially good while others shameful. Others were frigthening while some the dreamer would not want the dream to end. Some were even blessed with a continuation of a beautiful dream which had been interupted with a sudden wake. Some dream only in black and white while others dream in colours. But, like life itself which James 4:17 likened to a “puff of smoke”, dreams conveniently escaped memories before they could even be recalled. A real dream, not the day-dreaming one, could not be willed to take place in whatever basic level of the mind the sleep was, … be it only at the Alpha level or at the deeper Theta level or the ultimate unconscious Delta level. The vast, unfamiliar and unchartered land, the dreamland, seemed the spirits’ domains, ... a heavenly park they go for a spirit-walk, … the good spirits and maybe the not so good ones too.

But, some of the early mothers, those rural mothers in the 1950s and around those years, were commonly heard warning their children not to eat too much at dinner time for fear of getting bad dreams. The warnings, perhaps, could only be the caring mothers’ loving discouragements to their children not to unhealthly overeat.

Believe me you…it happened to this one country icon sometime long ago… His short vedioclip dream was the like of being ‘involved in the joy of drinking some sweet first-class rice wine’, lihing. What followed the next day or so was that this bloke had an acute case of flue, fever and running nose. It struck him as strange to note later that the colour of the mucuse of his running nose was similar to the colour of the rice wine which he had dreamt-drank.

On the night of 290309 there was this bloke who dreamt of two elderly departed individuals who were engaged in a short dialogue … one informing and the other listening. The one listening had an unlighted white cigarette in between his lips. When he parted his lips in awe as if not able to believe what he had just heard, the cigarette did not drop down! Analysing such a scene seen in a dream, what could it be remotely connected to in the Beta Level living situation?

There was this man who dreamt that he was in church but that he had no pants on … in public and as if in real life situation, he was very embarrassed.

But, watch out for dreams of seeing other people naked … for Tai’ 4D says that it could be a fantastically great 4D luck coming around at your particular time and age! Just simply buy any number-set … loads of it if one was mindful with katan… and be prepared to get a real positive surprise of a life time.

Be wary of dreams! Beware of these thoughts, they are human’s narratives. Ignore the immediate afore-said tips .. do not be deceived!