Feathers

The garden is damp this morning. The snails seem gleeful, moss succulent and green on the brick ledge. It had rained hard the night before. I amble over to the front terrace, stare absentmindedly at the bed of gravel with a mug of Indonesian coffee in one hand, and a cigarette in the other.

Something shifts amongst the branches of one of the Murraya trees. I squint at a clump of organic matter. Hadn’t noticed it there before. It is a nest. Must be new. There is a bird in the nest. It cocks its head here and there in jerky movements. Alert, awake; birds always look alert – they have no bedroom eyes, no Angelina Jolie eyes.

I am thrilled to the bone. Happy as a clam. A bird chooses to share its nest in my home, a simple terrace house with a tiny front yard. This home in the heart of sun-scorched, rat-infested, car-ruled, urban-as-you-can-get SS2, a bird actually thought it was decent real estate. I inch closer, but still five arm-spans away. Time dissolves away. Just the bird and I. Who are you, buddy?

The nest is small – about the size of my mug – made of dried grass and twigs, mostly from the yard. I don’t sweep away fallen leaves nor clear grass cuttings. There is even a stray raffia string woven in amongst the organic stuff with a ten-inch leftover trailing in the breeze. This bird doesn’t fight technology.

The Murrayas in the garden are not tall. I have three of them, and keep them pruned to about six feet high and they provide definition to the garden space. Also as a treat to the olfactory senses; when in bloom, the house smells awesome especially at night. The nest, built without too much finesse between two branches, is just about eye level. Strange that a bird would build here at this height. Strange. Maybe it has not been acquainted with the neighborhood stray cats which leap up 8-foot-high walls without blinking.

I stare at the bird. It cocks one eye my way. It has a white-feathered head the size of a bottle cap and a black beak that’s slender and curved. Its skin is black too. I do not know its species. Love nature, but bird-watching hadn't my cup of tea. The rest of its body is hidden inside the nest. I inch closer for a better look.

Whoosh! It darts off in flight. I spill coffee all over. I fail to catch its trail, still staring at the shaking leaves. I’m tempted to peek inside the nest but I remember an old wives’ tale about birds and nest – that once a bird realizes its home is invaded it’ll abandon it. I withdraw. This bird is more than welcome to stay.

In the shroud of deceit, cover-ups, bigotry, incompetence and stupidity that I abhor in government and that left me so pissed this past two weeks to even write, a little bird came by the tiny garden, built a nest, and for five minutes, collapsed the weariness of my world. Feathered tonic. Neat.

It is evening. I peer over my dusty balcony onto the Murraya bush. From the floor above, one can make out the profile of the nest amidst the leaves. I hold my breath. There is movement – that jerky movement of the head again. The bird has returned. It didn’t abandon the nest.

Good.

Dirt under the carpet

“Duduk, duduk,” said the Syabas technical officer. He was what you’d describe as peramah. Jovial, middle-aged, a simple man in a blue Syabas uniform.

By the end of 20 minutes, I was reaffirmed of two things:
1) Design is a tee-eeeny wee-eeeeny fraction of what it takes to be an architect in Malaysia; you are a reluctant running dog most of the time. Design purist? Hahaha, try another country.
2) Pak Lah has done effectively nothing about corruption in this country. From big fish to small fry. Umm, correction – he has simply done nothing. Period.

Like the Syabas officer, I too am a simple man. All I want is to stay alive for awhile, see the house I am designing get built. The bureaucracy is there to make sure you don't enjoy it. It is a faceless black hole whose answer to every question is a murmur: "Maybe, maybe not."

Sometime in January, the Majlis Perbandaran Kajang’s One-Stop Centre (OSC) had written a letter saying the application to build a house had been approved on condition that the architect obtains a Letter of Endorsement from each of the three autonomous bodies: Syarikat Bekalan Air Selangor (Syabas), Jabatan Perkhidmatan Pembetungan (JPP or Sewerage Dept) and MPKj’s own Jabatan Pembangunan Persekitaran which oversees the sanitary layout and application.

The letter further stated that all three departments had given their verbal approval in an earlier OSC meeting. “Looks like we have approval to start on the house,” I told my clients. We were happy about the relative expedience. Or so it seemed.

It seemed then all that remained was the formality of obtaining the Endorsement Letters, pass on a copy to MPKj, and we’d be issued an approval to start construction in a short time. Dream on, kiddo.

“Ah, ada perkara yang kena pinda lah. Duduk, duduk,” said the Syabas officer at the Ulu Langat Branch in Kajang. He opened the coldwater supply drawings as I sat dumbfounded. It was a diagram which showed the schematic layout of pipes and water-tanks, details of a typical water meter, all done in single-line, coloured and labeled with specifications.

I interjected showing him a copy of OSC’s conditional approval letter, and pointed to the line which says: (iii) Syarikat Bekalan Air Selangor Sdn Bhd – lulus secara lisan.

“Itu cuma secara lisan. Tak kira. Ha, sekarang ni tengok…..” the officer continued. Among other things, I was told to label my water tanks this way, and only this way:
Nominal Capacity: x gallons
Effective Capacity: y gallons
Type of Tank: z

It didn’t matter that in the original I had given all that information and more including the actual dimensions of the water-tanks. I was told to label every pipe although I had chosen to label systems of pipes like how we’d do it in the States eg primary incoming, primary outgoing, feeder pipes to fixtures – just so the drawing is not cluttered with crisscrossing arrows, a golden rule in working drawings. I was also told Syabas now requires a different set of Construction Notes to accompany the drawing, and the officer passes me an A4 sheet full of notes: “Ini you kena taip masuk semula dalam drawing, OK? Yang lama punye semua tak pakai lagi.”

As it turned out, nothing was in error that could result in the loss of life, just graphic modifications. A couple of arrows here, two colons there, use red colour for the Syabas main pipe etc.

When he was done, I asked why all this wasn’t brought up months earlier when I was making the submission. Another officer had looked through the drawings then and accepted it. “Oh, pengarah buat rule baru la.” It didn’t matter if you had submitted months earlier, the demi-god pangarah’s rules are retroactively applied to all projects.

What else to do but to take home the drawings, revise, reprint, re-colour, refold, and resubmit. That was two weeks ago.

I was lamenting to a contractor friend about all this. He said what I didn’t want to hear: “They want money lah. Let me meet them.” I was boiling. My client said he was potentially losing RM10k for every month delayed. Give it a shot, he said.

Friday evening I get a call. “Wah, Syabas pegawai very direct,” said my contractor friend. “He sat down and straightaway asked: Adakah?”

How many “Adakah”s lie ahead, I cannot tell. I can only smell rot.


* * * * *


And so it goes. Extra over for services rendered. Funny how Pak Lah goes about like he’s forgotten what he promised in the budding days of his premiership. Those rosy, vote-earning promises of tackling corruption. That Syabas person is but one of a string of bodies sitting in the interface of the construction industry and sucking money like leeches.

Want more stories?

When I was in a mainstream architecture office, I witnessed a senior Bomba officer upon completing his CF inspection tell the contractor and developer: “We will be having a golf tournament next month. So we’d like to request a donation of RM2,000 cash from you for prizes lah.”

After a TNB substation inspection, the developer of the project I was handling was seen handing over a humongous Hari Raya hamper to the TNB chap at a shadowed portion of the building. Who knows what envelope was in the hamper. It's so commonplace, people find it blase.

The boss of a main contracting company once told me: “In a typical condo project, we hand out bribes of RM30K-40K a month to the many different authorities. When we first started, I thought I could be clean and straight. Run an outfit like the Japanese and Koreans, you know. But even if you play by the rules, keep your truck wash trough clean, fog the area regularly, have harnesses and safety nets, they can and will find something to close you down…. The odd nail sticking out, the odd debris lying around, workers’ quarters.

“Money keeps them away. Let's us do our job. And you know what though? This money has blood on it. Remember the incident of falling steel formwork at Hartamas? If you ask me, the blame reaches very far and wide.”

While at the old workplace, a colleague would tell about how blatant bribes are sought these days at both the Planning and Building Depts at MPPJ. It’s simply a queen’s nest that's ISO 9002 certified. This colleague had first-hand experience. At the foyer of the Planning Dept is a desk with a tag ‘ACA’. Nobody seems to man it. Not long after you greet the officer, he’ll tell you: “Ai say, sports club mau jersey baru lah. Macam? Boss boleh bagi hadiah gah?” They’re no longer coy about it. “Kalau mau cepat, kena bayar upah lah,” even the receptionist communicated to her.

I love architecture and I want to live an honest life. Simple as that. If this is what it takes to practise in Malaysia eternally, if the government continues to be in denial about this cancer, if one has to continue to conform that low, then I shan’t be in Malaysia. Simple as that.


* * * * *

Post script

Among the many officials who deal with members of the building industry, I have met one who stands out as a true gem.

Ms Ong Ay Lee is Assistant Director at the Jabatan Perancang Bandar of Majlis Bandaraya Melaka Bersejarah (MBMB). She cares about her work and Melaka. Once at her office discussing the planning parameters for a parcel of land in the outskirts of the city, we got to talking about development in general. My boss had remarked that Melaka could do with a boost.

“Only if it is managed well, yes. But do you think we should follow KL’s model? I don’t. I have a sister in Cheras. I’m close to her but dread visiting her because of the environment there. But that’s just me.

“There is something in Melaka’s character we want to continue – finer grain, more soulful. We want development to perpetuate that quality. Many a time, big-budget offers have come this way – Singapore money, KL money – and they want to build these flashy townships. Thirty-, forty-storey towers. Whenever I am in the position, I tell them no.”

She spoke about the ideas of Michael Pyatok, urban community planner and champion of affordable housing, who had just been in Malaysia. She is well-read, informed of historic precedents, and has guts to hold her ground.

Her phone rang then. It was an architect reminding her of a CF inspection and offering to pick her up. “No lah. Don’t pick me up. I can find my own way there. I’ll be there in a half hour…. No, no. Really, you don’t have to pick me up. I know Melaka. Melaka is my town lah.”

Amazingly, those were about the same words she used some months earlier. Then, it was regarding a project of ours, although she didn't know it. The contractor had called her on CF inspection day and offered a ride. "No, don't bother. I'll find my way there," she had said. And true enough, she arrived in her basic Proton, did her inspection crisply and then left. In a week, the Surat Sokongan was issued.

Professional babe.

Ms Ong Ay Lee is my hero, a beacon in the murky civil service. I hope she keeps her strength for a long, long time. And I hope she becomes an example, never an oddity.

Crude plans beyond the barrel

I’m surprised given the current climate on world oil and its 30 sen per litre impact here, our government has yet to announce a comprehensive strategy on alternative fuels.

Public transport is one thing – yes, it dearly needs help – but the bigger issue is our dependency on a single fuel commodity… that crude thing called oil.

The relevant economies of the world have long begun to think outside of the barrel. Even more importantly, they have acted on it.

Sweden aims to be free from oil-dependency come 2020 (now, that’s vision for you). In the US, hybrid car sales are generally doubling every year. The streets of Shanghai hum with electric scooters. Seven out of every 10 new cars in Brazil run on ethanol. And in charming Siem Reap, Cambodia, you can now choose to travel around the temples of Angkor on a rented electric bike.

As anybody who follows real news would know, alternative fuels are no longer alternative. A new word shall someday soon emerge to describe this phenomenon. Thanks to advances made from fuel cells to biofuel, oil will lose its totemic relevance.

Meanwhile in Malaysia, a beautiful country with substantial resources, run by a government full on promises but empty on delivery, has yet to put forward a blueprint on it’s future with fuel.

We, the People, want a plan.

We want to know where we’re headed and how we’ll handle the signs of the times. I’m a dreamer sure (I don’t dream about sending Malaysians to space, though), but I don’t think it takes an economist to say we need to diversify our fuel source. And soon; like yesterday.

The government said it too:

“The Malaysian Palm Oil Board (MPOB) and the Malaysia Energy Center have joined hands to increase the public's awareness of Renewable Energy as a fuel source.

In May 2001, the government, through the Ministry of Energy, Communications and Multimedia launched the Small Renewable Energy Power program (SREP) which applies to all sources of energy including biomass, biogas, municipal waste, solar, mini-hydro and wind.

The SREP program is aimed at encouraging the exploitation of Renewable Energy sources as the fifth fuel resource under the country's fuel diversification policy and coincides with the industry's effort for zero waste in the oil palm industry.”

Talk. Is. Cheap.

Again in October 2004, Najib announced a Cabinet Committee on Alternative Fuels has been formed, but has nothing much to show today. It is regrettable that even with the writing on the wall, the government has failed to effectively act on relieving the reliance on fossil fuels.

SREP is not succeeding because the logistics of transferring and converting biomass to electricity in power plants miles away is too immense. It focuses on high-tech, typical of “gaya mau”, wanting to run before learning to crawl.

Sources on alternative fuel range from big-budget industries to do-it-yourself strategies. In the local context, we can get some of these going pronto to relieve folks who are hardest hit in petrol price hikes.

If control was kept local using affordable methods, we’re talking gold here.

Set up cooperatives in alternative fuel to deal with this hardship especially in the rural areas where money is short but not material resource. A cottage industry producing domestic fuel is very feasible. Biofuel – produced from crops, biomass and livesock – can provide a low-tech option for local consumption eg powering diesel machines, generators, and motorboats. Think of it as a 21st century version of the charcoal and firewood cottage industry or the kerosene industry of old.

All it takes is education, organization and a genuine heart.

In fact, if resource is abundant, these cottage industries could transform the material into semi-processed form for easier transport and processing at power plants and fuel refineries and earn a tidy side-income. Think of the smokehouses and mangles shared by small-holder rubber plantations in early Malaya.

True progress is forever lateral; and cottage industries are a relevant component in that pursuit.

And what about electric bikes and scooters? It may be what our cities need to supplement an improved public transportation system. Hey, I'd like to get one for my shorter trips.

Unfortunately, I am not equipped to be constructive. There is as always a lack of information on the side of the government about what is really going on. Oftentimes it’s one chest-thumping announcement at a launch, then all goes quiet. And the cronies go to feed.

All I ask is a good plan.

A thoughtful plan – described lucidly for public feedback with a team who can deliver. Something that addresses in breadth and elegance the issue of fuel in society. Public transport is only a subset of that.

As you know, a sincere vision gains more mileage without the need for spin such as “change our lifestyle”, Ong Ka Ting riding the LRT, and “35 sen for a teh tarik”. Politicians are obliged to rise above that.

Khidmat Negara Ver 2.0

The last time I saw Isaac, he was flushed with life. Over bottles of microbrew, he related his experiences at Habitat for Humanity, Portland OR. He had come back to college-town Eugene for a short break, and to catch up with his Malaysian housemate. Isaac was helping to build houses for the lower income; that’s what the non-profit organization is all about. He’d made new buddies there, he told me, and he was amazed at volunteer turnouts especially on weekends.

“Guys were just streaming in with hammers and saws just asking if there was anything they could help out. Fat, fair, scrawny, they all came. And damn, some of those women can build as fine a wall if there ever was one,” he said, “There was much love.”

At some point in that autumn evening of feel-good stories, it struck me that this was what my country was all about, too – you know, the whole gotong-royong, Rukun Tetangga thing. At least my teenaged memory of it, rose-tinted no doubt. In my memory, all that seemed a very natural process back home. Berat sama dipikul, ringan sama dijinjing. Ya ‘bang, berganding bahu.

I mean, those were the years before Malaysia Boleh, before the continued refraction of the light of our people into race and religion, before the big-money scandals, before the sacking of Chief Judge Salleh Abbas and the subsequent emasculation of the Judiciary, before many, many things.

“There was much love,” Isaac had said. And now being back, I’m a mite sad. And I’m just picking through the fragments wondering if there may be a bona fide path we can take to being more integrated again. You know, those Sudirman days, those P Ramlee and Saloma days. I think there is. I think it lies in the hearts of youths.

Along the muddy banks of Malaysia’s many government schemes lies a gem waiting to be really discovered. If harnessed well, I believe Khidmat Negara could possibly pave the way to the ideals you and I uphold for this land. Its current form is limpid and reaching a dead end. Rather it will take creativity and will to reach its true potential. Plus learning from others, if we’re not too proud that is.

Which brings me back to Isaac. Isaac hooked up with Habitat via AmeriCorps (http://www.americorps.gov/about/ac/index.asp), one of the most inspired ideas to emerge from the Clinton Administration back in 1993. It is the US’ version of national service without the military crap. Instead it focuses on community service and rewards each participant with education funds. So at the end of the day, my buddy Isaac came out richer in soul and lighter in financial debt. Win-win, if you ask me.

We can take a cue from all this.

When Malaysia first mooted Khidmat Negara (http://www.khidmatnegara.gov.my/utama.htm), it was framed with noble values. In 2003, the government espoused the virtues of such a program with a five-point objective:

• Develop patriotism


• Enhance unity


• Instill caring spirit in society


• Produce well-rounded people


• Reinforce good values

Now, let’s ask ourselves this – can this objective only be met through a military-style modus? I can understand a military-based national service in Singapore. It is an elite citystate not entirely in sync with its Nusantara cousins. I can understand Israel and Korea. I don’t understand Malaysia’s approach. Really, why did we choose the regimented path? It strikes me that there wasn’t enough rigour exercised in thinking through the program.

To make national service fruitful, we must first dig deep into our society’s psyche and core values and ask what is the cultural makeup of Malaysia. Who are our youths and what are their characteristics, their aspirations and concerns? How do we meld these together? Only with such findings can we come up with a scheme that is genuine to our goals of integration.

Alas, not equipped with any solid data, I can only intuit an alternative idea. It’s something I’ve been pondering over a bit and suffers from rough edges. For lack of expertise, I shan’t try to sand those down. Just explore the core idea.

Overview
I think our national service should be structured more like a Liberal Arts stint in real life in real Malaysia – sorta learn more about the world and yourself while giving back to society. It should offer as much exposure to individuals who are otherwise limited because of family funds or opportunities to see and experience the many layers of our land and its people. It should invite youths to explore and tap their skills.

Call it an internship on Practical Civics. Formal education in school supplies the basics, developing real values come from direct experience.

Many essential and community services in Malaysia need support but are not getting it. Whether because of funds, manpower or imagination, we find ourselves stunted. National service can help plug unique gaps that exist in our society: the maintenance, governance, research and development of these services. It should seize the booster shot of energy that youths bring. Hence, Khidmat Negara should be moved out of the Defence Ministry’s portfolio and into the Ministry of Youth and Sports. And it should be a program of substance not patriotic songs, physical training and foot-drills.

National service should be lengthened to approximately a year, say. To be fulfilling, it has to be substantial. Three months doesn’t get anybody anywhere.

But first, who are we. What are our blocks?

The youths among us – General Observations
Compass points: Compared to developed countries, I believe in general we find our bearings later in life. It's tied to how and where we are brought up. It was certainly true for me. In Form 6, I wanted to be a doctor la, an engineer la, Indiana Jones la …I honestly didn’t know what I wanted. Same went for many of my friends, and I suspect the same goes for many teenagers today.

Talent suppressed: I met many people in school and university who were really talented musicians, dancers, sportsmen, or artists who ended up doing medicine, law, economics or a runs a gerai in a pasar malam. Kim Loke was a fantastic footballer, captain of his state team. He became a civil engineer. Adnan, whom I knew in Form 2, could paint the most wonderful portraits. Last I heard he was selling nasi campur in Kuantan. Many among us choose to turn away from our calling for a more secure profession. No market lah. I think it’s because because there were not many avenues. I still hear news about these folks every now and then and many have switched dreams and are busy feeding their family. For them, the music died. Our socio-economic landscape could do with more diversity.

Lack of exposure: The urban-rural divide is more acute as cities become more sophisticated while the sleepy villages remain their charming selves. Consequently, one half is increasingly ignorant of the other. And a residue of this is suspicion.

In one stroke, national service can and should try to address these issues.

Flexibility in Structure – Providing Choice:
I do not agree with the current camp setup where youths are put through a regiment of modules. It’s Cold War thinking. It’s monoculture.

Conversely, we should believe and invest in our in-built diversity to strive for dynamic integration. The philosophy ought to be about way-finding. If a person is allowed to pursue his/her interests, you’ve just turbocharged that person’s life. At most, conscripts go through a brief orientation period – say two weeks – before they are posted to the department or organization of their choice.

The keyword is Choice. Good structures typically accommodate a larger set of options and possibilities and NS ought to be modeled that way. Involve as many organizations – federal, state and local government, GLCs and non-profits – as practically possible. This also decentralizes the budget needed to run the overall program.

Because some services will be more in demand than others, there should be a ballot method with substitute choices.

Choice of Service
Conscripts get to opt for the kind of service they want. Clearly, there are many ways to organize the categories. Below is only an idea and, I admit, a clumsy one. The bodies mentioned are only a sampling.

Essential services: Customs and immigration, forest rangers, libraries, police force, fire department, Rukun Tetangga and residents committee, local councils, JKR, Drainage and Irrigation, education and schools, Lands and Mines, postal service, Telekom, KTM, LRT, public transport.
Media, arts and crafts: TV and radio stations, Bernama, Kraftangan.
Social work and healthcare: Hospices, orphanages, halfway houses, hospitals.
Sports: Various sports agencies and associations.
Agriculture: Felda, Felcra, RRIM, FRIM, fisheries.
NGOs: Sahabat Alam Malaysia, Red Crescent Society, UNHCR, World Wildlife Foundation, Consumers Association of Penang, Suaram.

The scope of duties in each body can vary. The Land and Mines may want to upgrade its national land survey but have not been able to embark because of manpower and funds. Taman Negara may want to continue its inventory of the flora and fauna in Sarawak’s Mulu Caves. The squash association may have dreams of an energetic outreach program but needs manpower.

It is then the duty of these organizations to package the scope well. They have to if they want to draw the right youths. It is the task of Jabatan Latihan Khidmat Negara to collate these offers into a neat understandable packet, not unlike a university brochure listing all its programs. In fact, JLKN's role approximates a big university's administration.

In the longer term, talent, skill and temperament should ideally be matched. The youths are now a resource. They are now relevant.

Choice of Duration
There should be options for a focused stint versus that for a varied experience.

Single-Post Option: For conscripts who are clear in what they want out of the program. They only seek to pursue that certain activity. A young musician may want to be attached to Dewan Filharmonik, well and good. A sea-lover just wants to be in the Navy, all’s well.

Three-Post Option: For those who want to see more of our land and experience various services. Each conscript signs up for three different assignments of about four months each. For instance, he may choose the Forest Rangers, then a rural hospital, then KTM.

Choice of Location
Conscripts get to choose where they’d like to get attached with at least half the period in a setting different from their current situation. A rural girl has to spend half her service in a city setting and vice-versa. Sabah and Sarawak will get equal opportunity both ways.

Choice of Deferment
Conscripts can spread out the program over three years if they so choose. Perhaps many may opt to overlap with their college experience – using the year-end break and hence gather more focus in their chosen field of study. Yet others, early school-leavers perhaps, may use it to find if there’s another vocation that suits them.

Responsibility to Civil Defence
Conscripts will be mobilized during any civil defence exercise depending on location and magnitude. These may be in the form of natural disaster relief like the Boxing Day tsunami, drought, the TTDI Jaya flood, forest fires, landslides, and possibly bird flu pandemic. They provide the most immediate support to relief efforts from ferrying supplies to first aid.

Net Gain – Lateral Development, Exposure and a Woven Nation
It would be super if NS, like AmeriCorps, could be coupled with the pursuit of higher or continued education via fee vouchers. I believe we could do our country a lot of good this way. We would have provided for a far richer education while simultaneously upgrading our network of services. Our civil service would be conceivably more efficient, our core values actualised, our culture more textured and diverse.

We can begin to cultivate an encyclopedia of experiences based on the collective. We would have ploughed and prepped the fields of the various sectors and can now dream of real innovation.

Out in the swamps of Morib, an 18-year-old girl helps to revitalize a mangrove swamp under a revamped Khidmat Negara. At 20, she decides to major in Marine Biology because she’s excited about it. Up north in the country, a boy helps RTM producers put together a documentary on rice-farming. He may just be carrying cables for the film crew, he may be a makeup artist. But at 20, he’s in film school. In a school for the handicapped, a blind girl helps disabled children read and write. She may end up the prime-mover for a more disabled-friendly built environment.

Of course, Khidmat Negara will not be the miracle cure for our problems. Many will go through it unaffected. Many will still drift around without firm bearings. But it is about placing doors where once there were walls. Whosoever reaches to open, opens into a renewed Wawasan 2020. The net effect can be just wonderful.

Mean it

Sometime last month, Sweden announced: We aim to be an oil-free economy by 2020.

That’s ambitious even by its own lofty standards. But there’s something to be said, rather taken to heart, about this country of nine million people. Sweden doesn’t boast much. Nor does it do the sales and propaganda talk – no ‘Truly Europe’ slogans, no tallest building bids, no Stockholm-jaya; no need. Just Sweden, land of Volvo, Saab, SKF, ABB, Husqvarna, Electrolux, Ikea…. The list goes on. Other than that it pretty much keeps quiet and prefers to let its work and play do the talking.

That’s why it’s taken seriously. So when the Swedish minister of sustainable development Mona Sahlin said: “Our dependency on oil should be broken by 2020,” the world sat up and listened.

And justifiably so. It has a veritable track record for getting things done. Not just in industry and services, but the sciences, arts, sports and the humanities – think Alfred Nobel, Linnaeus, Celsius, Hasselblad, Abba, Ace of Base, Ingmar Bergman, Bjorn Borg, Stefan Edberg, Annika Sorenstam… I’m out of breath.

The point is not about Sweden although I am fascinated by the Scandinavian states in general. The point is about doing it right. Less talk already. Nine million people in a country about 1-1/2 times the size of Malaysia, when enabled and given the chance, will collectively walk the walk.

*********

The Malaysian government on Tuesday cut back its petrol subsidy by 30 sen for every litre. In that one move, it stands to save RM4.4 billion which it intends to inject into “national development” projects, especially public transportation. Najib, who chairs the Cabinet Committee on Fuel Prices, went live on TV yesterday and talked the talk. Whether this government will walk is another story.

I am skeptical. The government of Malaysia does not have a good track record when it comes to getting things done. In the first place it often lacks a solid plan, something which ties into a holistic goal. Proton – set up to jumpstart a national automotive industry – was a poor idea from the beginning. That was probably the beginning of Mahathir’s heroic vision and mega-whatever. Back in 1985, we did not have the necessary history and culture to handle such an industry and it continues to haunt us today.

See, we’re plagued by two major syndromes which we’ve failed to tackle all this while – “Gaya Mau” and “Aiyah”. It has made us desire a lot but not work for it. There’s a coarse, half-assed quality to many things that we do. Our buildings are half-assed, our infrastructure is half-assed, our civil service is half-assed… Instead it has formed a habit of leaving hands outstretched for perks. It also makes us talk a lot. A lot of it, so it turns out is rubbish. We’ve been spammed. Cekap, Bersih, Amanah. Cemerlang, Gemilang, Terbilang. Engineered to Exhilarate. Petaling Jaya – Ke Arah Bandar Bestari. Selangor the Developed State.

Talk, here, is very cheap.

The government, since administrations past, has set the pace of broken promises and dreams that are out of sync with the culture and too big for it to maintain. Wayang, they are good at, not much thereafter. KLIA is a farce as an international hub; you seen the arrival and departure screens and how they are dominated by MAS and AirAsia flights? So much for “Bringing the World to Malaysia”. It boasts state-of-the-art equipment but we only hear of security breaches and systems breakdown. Cyberjaya is a farce with a museum called the E-Village, but it’s a nice lallang field otherwise. And mark my words, Putrajaya will be a bigger joke than the lifeless Shah Alam – evidence of simple urban design lessons yet unlearned. Bakun Dam? Adoi. The list can go on, and I’d be out of breath.

Talk, talk, talk. Just talk. It has become arguably Malaysia’s most successful national campaign to date. It’s so successful, this lifestyle has seeped right down to the grassroots. I mean, try naming 10 people you trust to really deliver at work. I can’t. Instead, I get responses like “I’ll call you back with the info” and you don’t hear from them again or “It’ll be finished in two weeks” but it takes two months.

And when it’s not possible to talk you to death, they’ll kill you with its paper equivalent – bureaucracy. Consider this: FedEx can send a parcel to Timbuktu in 48 hours with just the pertinent information entered in a small form. The company has a new tagline: Relax, it’s FedEx. It strives to live up to that claim.

Now, to add a tiny terrace to a semi-D house in KL, you have to prepare a bundle of drawings and documents for planning approval before submitting for a building permit. If you’re lucky, the entire two-stage process alone will take six months before a hole can even be dug. DBKL has a tagline too – Bersedia Menyumbang, Bandaraya Cemerlang. Nobody takes that seriously.

It all points to one thing. The government has a lot of ground to make up if it is serious about the people. It has put into words its blueprint for a better Malaysia. Integrity, transparency, all those feel-good verses. Meanwhile, tenders remained closed, local councilors still go to faraway exotic places to look at toilets, newspapers get suspended, a new chicken slaughterhouse in Selayang will cost RM20 million (gadzooks!)… the list can go on, and I’d be out of breath.

By all means, reduce the petrol subsidies. I don’t fault its rationale. I fault its implementation and am very curious about its motives.

If the government had been serious about public transport, it would’ve initiated dialogues prior to the petrol price hike long ago, not as a result of it. There would have been a campaign in full momentum by now, not just warming up with the announcement of a Cabinet Committee on Wednesday. These after-the-fact moves are not convincing at all and, if anything, prove to being plain silly.

With RM4.4 billion in the purse, I’d really wish those Boleh folks showed more heart. I really wish they’d act.

I really wish I could believe.