12/11: An account of an unrepentant yellow splash
Category: Letters
Posted by: raja petra
Link to vid : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BzqSddWkxGs
I wasn't there from the beginning.
I had to wait for a friend at KL Sentral, and we were blocked from going to Masjid Jamek at 3 pm. They even shut down Pasar Seni Putra LRT station, and taxi drivers refused to take us there. There were no busses going to Dataran Merdeka either. Having no choice, we decided to walk to the venue instead. Much to our relief, some other protestors, equally foiled by the persistent roadblocks (4 lanes in a highway, they blocked 3 and allowed this small funnel to go, causing unnecessary stress and jam for the whole citizens of KL while they gosspied at the sides) and clamp down of public transport decided to do the same. We, along with a few confused tourists followed along.
A small scattering of us 'lost souls' followed a highway road and miraculously found that a large gathering of people, as yellow clad as we underneath our jacket and sweater were already there. We took said covers off and blended sort of right in. Apparently we accidentally bumped into the already abused protesters (with water cannons and god knows what else by the FRU) blocked by the FRU from going any nearer to the Istana Negara.
What greeted us was a tamarine river of people in various hues of yellows, wearing raincoats, plastic bags, hankerchiefs, kain buruks or carrying umbrellas. At the further front were the formidable blood-red trucks of FRU, and rows of the anti-riot police, equipped with paddings, large shields, nasty looking wooden batons, and so forth that looked like what I saw from the movie Bad Boys. It surprised me a little that I could detect at least 3 different Malay dialects from the protestors, proving that many came from far to protest and call on the Agong to heed our plight. My friend Ralph took as many pictures as we could impeded by an umbrella I was holding and the limitations of a PDA camera phone. Considering our different ethnic affiliations, we probably look a sight.
By the time Ralph and I found a comfortable spot, finding friends new and old to band together in case anything happened, we already started chanting. People came continuously, and we literally grew even though there weren't that many at first, hampered by the obstacles set in our path. The human spirit, it looks to me, is unbeatable in its ingenuity. To be absolutely truthful, when you're in the middle of several thousand or so bunch of people, and I mean at the very midst of things, too young and fresh for your own good, and yet near enough to risk serious harm, you don't really understand what's really going on. Neither did many of the pak cik-mak ciks and their children (the youngest protester looked barely older than 3!) who trailed the furthest behind or the Pak Haji who courtesy of the white cresent moon on the green and blue banner signifies their loyalties are opposition.
You know you're there because of a long list of dissatisfaction that goes on in the current administration. You know you're there because BERSIH fights for clean elections, is against corruption, and every single thing that's wrong with this country except mutual gluttony in nationwide festivals. You know that if the government truly commits towards good governance, they wouldn't condemn it as they did, in these critical months before the next election. You know that the mainstream news is not relevant anymore, and everything else pales in this moment when your fist punches the air and your voice rings loud in the crowd.
Oddly enough, a liberal Malay and an errant Chinese, neither who had voted in the elections, neither who actually bothers with whether we are 'with us or against us' (BN or Opposition) or cared, felt like we belong amongst these alim people who would normally verbally strike me for my Britney Spears-like clothing or find it odd that we both leaned on each other for support for demonstrating is new still, and kind of scary. One thing I found a bit off was that, despite the Agong and Sultan admittedly being more of a Malay's Islamic monarch, I find that our fellow non-Muslim protesters couldn't join in the "Allahu Akbar" and the "La illa ha illawah", and yet they heartily yelled out "Hidup Hidup! Hidup Rakyat! Pilihanraya Bersih!" when they could.
Maybe we can edit a bit our slogans so that our demonstrations can swell more in ranks?
There were helicopters everywhere. Two of them and when they nearly crashed together, we cheered. Many protesters found the helis annoying. We cheered when someone way in front made a speech of defiance. We cheered a man wearing a black and yellow songkok (palace official) came out at last after voicing our demands, all of us shivering in damp smelling air, crouching in a sitting position when we were told. We cheered two other times, I know not why until I read the news when I arrived back home, for Anwar, and for the BERSIH leader. When the palace official received the memorandum officially, we peacefully retreated. It wasn't much really, but what happened next was fun, convincing me that we are doing the right thing.
We followed the crowd to Masjid Negara. The police was troublesome, they were technically surrounding us, so we had not much of a choice but to also walk on to the other highway road to accomodate the swell of our numbers and to avoid provoking the skittish police. We obstructed traffic. Funny thing is, the drivers, minus a few who were probably in trouble for some business meeting didn't mind. Drivers rolled down their windows and greeted us, encouraging us, telling to us "Stay safe." Some said their thanks for doing our part in helping the people keep their liberties. It doesn't matter who they were; Indian lorry drivers, Malay families, Chinese Merc drivers, rich and poor (at least according to the model of their vehicles), hell, even bread lorry drivers waved at us. Many honked, not for us to get the hell out of the way, but grinning and smiling, giving us the Bagus sign.
Several protestors started to become volunteer traffic police. We yelled out whenever a car needed to pass by, made sure no one would be rammed down, and waved the cars through. They thanked us for that too. Apparently they are far more irritated by the unnecessary police road blocks than people just going back home on a weekend after a demonstration. It was a mocing ripe paddy river, all the way. We passed by glaring and fierce looking FRU policemen with wary anxiety and hesitation in their eyes. Here's another moment of lighthearted humour that we saw when we passed by a FRU truck parked at the side of the road. We saw no less than two camera phones peeking from the grilled windows of the said truck. Me & Ralph waved, grinning. The phones flashed.
Finally, we are at the road's end, the mosque in view. Now what? I was tired and my feet were aching, not to mention hungry. Then someone took the center stage, I caught the word 'lawyer' and 'human rights' but not much, it was rather difficult to hear because there was no loudspeaker or hailer. He said that today was a success. He said that we were doing something that was historic. We did it right. I smiled because I wanted to believe it, and because I do believe it. Then an Indian man took over, giving a speech that nobody could hear because the darn helicopted was too close. After that was a simple doa of thanks that all survived relatively unscathed.
It was over, at least for a while.
And yet, as I watched the news on Al-Jazeera, I was aghast. Ralph and I was lucky, we were late enough not to be unjustly sprayed with water cannons and tear gas or chemicals. This demonstration is peaceful. All of us did our best to wave, smile, and be friendly to the police, following their advice (other than don't protest) to the tee. When one policeman waved another route, we followed. When they lined up intimidatingly in full gear on some flyover, I asked them politely whether I could pass so that my parents could pick me up, and they did let me through; I was being respectful. They're doing their job, we're doing this not merely for ourselves, but for them as citizens of Malaysia too. I did nothing wrong, and neither did Ralph, or anyone in the protest.
The people who participated in this demonstration are practically harmless people. They were whole families, grandparents, parents, teenagers, children, heck, even toddlers was here with us yesterday. If all of us protesters are violent ex-Navy Seals commandos then all the measures that was done was justified, but these are people who merely wanted to a) gather at Dataran Merdeka, go chant some slogans, get a bit excited and b) send off a memorandom (or a piece of highly A-Grade and environmentally friendly paper) to the Agong. Sure, UMNO finds what's written on the piece of paper objectionable but that's not why these policemen entered the police force, I am sure.
The official account in 15, but some say up to 30 is in police jail at the moment, taking the fall for the 'we must have a scapegoat to backup our story for our mess up with this water cannon and tear gas' business. I suggest we try to do something about this.
Sophia
I wasn't there from the beginning.
I had to wait for a friend at KL Sentral, and we were blocked from going to Masjid Jamek at 3 pm. They even shut down Pasar Seni Putra LRT station, and taxi drivers refused to take us there. There were no busses going to Dataran Merdeka either. Having no choice, we decided to walk to the venue instead. Much to our relief, some other protestors, equally foiled by the persistent roadblocks (4 lanes in a highway, they blocked 3 and allowed this small funnel to go, causing unnecessary stress and jam for the whole citizens of KL while they gosspied at the sides) and clamp down of public transport decided to do the same. We, along with a few confused tourists followed along.
A small scattering of us 'lost souls' followed a highway road and miraculously found that a large gathering of people, as yellow clad as we underneath our jacket and sweater were already there. We took said covers off and blended sort of right in. Apparently we accidentally bumped into the already abused protesters (with water cannons and god knows what else by the FRU) blocked by the FRU from going any nearer to the Istana Negara.
What greeted us was a tamarine river of people in various hues of yellows, wearing raincoats, plastic bags, hankerchiefs, kain buruks or carrying umbrellas. At the further front were the formidable blood-red trucks of FRU, and rows of the anti-riot police, equipped with paddings, large shields, nasty looking wooden batons, and so forth that looked like what I saw from the movie Bad Boys. It surprised me a little that I could detect at least 3 different Malay dialects from the protestors, proving that many came from far to protest and call on the Agong to heed our plight. My friend Ralph took as many pictures as we could impeded by an umbrella I was holding and the limitations of a PDA camera phone. Considering our different ethnic affiliations, we probably look a sight.
By the time Ralph and I found a comfortable spot, finding friends new and old to band together in case anything happened, we already started chanting. People came continuously, and we literally grew even though there weren't that many at first, hampered by the obstacles set in our path. The human spirit, it looks to me, is unbeatable in its ingenuity. To be absolutely truthful, when you're in the middle of several thousand or so bunch of people, and I mean at the very midst of things, too young and fresh for your own good, and yet near enough to risk serious harm, you don't really understand what's really going on. Neither did many of the pak cik-mak ciks and their children (the youngest protester looked barely older than 3!) who trailed the furthest behind or the Pak Haji who courtesy of the white cresent moon on the green and blue banner signifies their loyalties are opposition.
You know you're there because of a long list of dissatisfaction that goes on in the current administration. You know you're there because BERSIH fights for clean elections, is against corruption, and every single thing that's wrong with this country except mutual gluttony in nationwide festivals. You know that if the government truly commits towards good governance, they wouldn't condemn it as they did, in these critical months before the next election. You know that the mainstream news is not relevant anymore, and everything else pales in this moment when your fist punches the air and your voice rings loud in the crowd.
Oddly enough, a liberal Malay and an errant Chinese, neither who had voted in the elections, neither who actually bothers with whether we are 'with us or against us' (BN or Opposition) or cared, felt like we belong amongst these alim people who would normally verbally strike me for my Britney Spears-like clothing or find it odd that we both leaned on each other for support for demonstrating is new still, and kind of scary. One thing I found a bit off was that, despite the Agong and Sultan admittedly being more of a Malay's Islamic monarch, I find that our fellow non-Muslim protesters couldn't join in the "Allahu Akbar" and the "La illa ha illawah", and yet they heartily yelled out "Hidup Hidup! Hidup Rakyat! Pilihanraya Bersih!" when they could.
Maybe we can edit a bit our slogans so that our demonstrations can swell more in ranks?
There were helicopters everywhere. Two of them and when they nearly crashed together, we cheered. Many protesters found the helis annoying. We cheered when someone way in front made a speech of defiance. We cheered a man wearing a black and yellow songkok (palace official) came out at last after voicing our demands, all of us shivering in damp smelling air, crouching in a sitting position when we were told. We cheered two other times, I know not why until I read the news when I arrived back home, for Anwar, and for the BERSIH leader. When the palace official received the memorandum officially, we peacefully retreated. It wasn't much really, but what happened next was fun, convincing me that we are doing the right thing.
We followed the crowd to Masjid Negara. The police was troublesome, they were technically surrounding us, so we had not much of a choice but to also walk on to the other highway road to accomodate the swell of our numbers and to avoid provoking the skittish police. We obstructed traffic. Funny thing is, the drivers, minus a few who were probably in trouble for some business meeting didn't mind. Drivers rolled down their windows and greeted us, encouraging us, telling to us "Stay safe." Some said their thanks for doing our part in helping the people keep their liberties. It doesn't matter who they were; Indian lorry drivers, Malay families, Chinese Merc drivers, rich and poor (at least according to the model of their vehicles), hell, even bread lorry drivers waved at us. Many honked, not for us to get the hell out of the way, but grinning and smiling, giving us the Bagus sign.
Several protestors started to become volunteer traffic police. We yelled out whenever a car needed to pass by, made sure no one would be rammed down, and waved the cars through. They thanked us for that too. Apparently they are far more irritated by the unnecessary police road blocks than people just going back home on a weekend after a demonstration. It was a mocing ripe paddy river, all the way. We passed by glaring and fierce looking FRU policemen with wary anxiety and hesitation in their eyes. Here's another moment of lighthearted humour that we saw when we passed by a FRU truck parked at the side of the road. We saw no less than two camera phones peeking from the grilled windows of the said truck. Me & Ralph waved, grinning. The phones flashed.
Finally, we are at the road's end, the mosque in view. Now what? I was tired and my feet were aching, not to mention hungry. Then someone took the center stage, I caught the word 'lawyer' and 'human rights' but not much, it was rather difficult to hear because there was no loudspeaker or hailer. He said that today was a success. He said that we were doing something that was historic. We did it right. I smiled because I wanted to believe it, and because I do believe it. Then an Indian man took over, giving a speech that nobody could hear because the darn helicopted was too close. After that was a simple doa of thanks that all survived relatively unscathed.
It was over, at least for a while.
And yet, as I watched the news on Al-Jazeera, I was aghast. Ralph and I was lucky, we were late enough not to be unjustly sprayed with water cannons and tear gas or chemicals. This demonstration is peaceful. All of us did our best to wave, smile, and be friendly to the police, following their advice (other than don't protest) to the tee. When one policeman waved another route, we followed. When they lined up intimidatingly in full gear on some flyover, I asked them politely whether I could pass so that my parents could pick me up, and they did let me through; I was being respectful. They're doing their job, we're doing this not merely for ourselves, but for them as citizens of Malaysia too. I did nothing wrong, and neither did Ralph, or anyone in the protest.
The people who participated in this demonstration are practically harmless people. They were whole families, grandparents, parents, teenagers, children, heck, even toddlers was here with us yesterday. If all of us protesters are violent ex-Navy Seals commandos then all the measures that was done was justified, but these are people who merely wanted to a) gather at Dataran Merdeka, go chant some slogans, get a bit excited and b) send off a memorandom (or a piece of highly A-Grade and environmentally friendly paper) to the Agong. Sure, UMNO finds what's written on the piece of paper objectionable but that's not why these policemen entered the police force, I am sure.
The official account in 15, but some say up to 30 is in police jail at the moment, taking the fall for the 'we must have a scapegoat to backup our story for our mess up with this water cannon and tear gas' business. I suggest we try to do something about this.
Sophia
chisinau wrote: