Farewell, FFK

I received the heartbreaking news today that another one of my oldest chess friends, Fong Foo Khun, has passed away unexpectedly in the early hours of the morning. His sudden departure has left me feeling utterly deflated.

My friendship with Foo Khun dates back to 1974 when I first met him. That year, the Penang Chess Association organized its inaugural closed chess championship, and he emerged as the joint champion alongside Tan Kai Ming. Unfortunately, I couldn't participate in that tournament as I was studying in Kuala Lumpur at the time. However, I had the chance to get to know him later that year when I returned to Penang to play in the Asian Team Chess Championship.

Foo Khun was a jovial and amiable character, a true chess enthusiast, and a great friend. He was always willing to lend a helping hand to others. Over the past two decades or so, we would meet up at chess tournaments in Penang, usually once a year, and exchange warm greetings.

One memorable incident involving Foo Khun goes back to the late 1970s. The Penang Chess Association received an invitation for a friendly match in Taiping. We decided to make it a road trip and borrowed a car from Fang Ewe Churh, the founding president of the association. Foo Khun took charge of the driving, and the journey was mostly uneventful, except for a moment when he had to make a sudden swerve with just one hand on the steering wheel.

The last interaction we had on social media was less than a month ago, around September 6th. I was trying to convince him to sign up for the OFA Centenary chess tournament. Foo Khun's response was enthusiastic, and he asked for more information. I guided him through the process, including the need to apply for a FIDE ID. However, that seemed to have posed a challenge for him. Two days later, he messaged me, expressing his apologies for not being able to participate due to the complexity involved. His final words to me were "take care!"—an epitome of his thoughtfulness until the very end.

I will miss Foo Khun deeply. His passion for chess and his considerate nature left an indelible mark on me. Losing a friend with whom I shared countless memories and experiences is a profound loss. In times like these, I'll hold onto the cherished moments we had and the lessons he imparted, keeping his memory alive.

Forward to the past

Back in June of this year, my friend Lim Siang Jin and I embarked on a photographic journey, dedicating ourselves to exploring and capturing the essence of Penang Free School through our lenses. While my initial intent was simply to preserve these memories for personal enjoyment, Siang Jin had a more focused goal. Equipped with a borrowed Leica SL2-S camera, he aspired to showcase his work in an exhibition hosted by The Old Frees' Association (OFA). What better time to do so than during the OFA's Centenary celebrations?

Over the past three months, I've been assisting Siang Jin in securing approval from the OFA committee to hold this exhibition in their hall. And now, finally, his tireless efforts have culminated in a remarkable exhibition featuring a collection of evocative black-and-white photographs. These images are designed to evoke nostalgic emotions in anyone who has walked the corridors of Penang Free School, unless, of course, one possesses a heart of ice.

When I arrived at The Old Frees' Association this afternoon, I found Siang Jin fully immersed in the preparations for his photography exhibition. This exhibition showcases 31 black-and-white photographs that beautifully capture the essence of Penang Free School. These images pay a poignant tribute to the 1960s, a significant era in both of our personal journeys of growth and transformation.

The exhibition will run from September 28th until October 3rd, with the hall open daily from 10 am until 5 pm. The framed photographs will be available for purchase by the public at RM800 each, with 75 percent of the proceeds benefiting the PFS Student Leadership Workshops and Free School Guide, and the remaining 25 percent going to the OFA Sesquicentenary Education Fund. Siang Jin and I hope that visitors to the exhibition will be generous in their support by purchasing these photographs, thereby contributing to the growth and development of the students of Penang Free School. I can assure you that these photographs are well worth your support!

Centenary chess competition concludes

The OFA Centenary chess tournament proved to be a resounding success, and I must say that as the Tournament Director and organizer, I am quite pleased with the outcome. Notably, this was a FIDE-rated event, which is a rarity in Penang, and we executed it seamlessly at Penang Free School's Pinhorn Hall.

I extend my heartfelt thanks to Jonathan Chuah, who I appointed as the Chief Arbiter, and his dedicated team, which included Cheryl Ho and three volunteer tournament assistants. I also want to express my gratitude to Lim Li Yeong, the advisor of the PFS Chess Club, who remained present throughout the tournament and assisted in managing the storage boxes.

I am truly appreciative of See Swee Sie, the President of the Penang Chess Association, and her team for their unwavering support in every aspect. A special mention goes to Lim Poay Sim for his invaluable assistance in the FIDE ID approval process and supplying chess equipment. In addition, I would like to acknowledge Steven Cheong from the Malaysian Chess Federation for his role in the FIDE ID approvals, which greatly contributed to our tournament having so many new FIDE unrated players.

Most importantly, I want to express my deep appreciation to my sub-committee members, Ung Tay Aik and Terry Ong. We successfully executed this event, gentlemen!

The morning of the tournament was spent setting up the hall, and on Sunday, the tournament day itself, players, many accompanied by their parents and relatives, began arriving at 8:15 am. I was already at the school hall before eight o'clock, and the doors were open with schoolboy helpers in attendance. Jonathan and his father arrived shortly after, and along with Tay Aik and Terry, we set up the equipment. We made adjustments based on early feedback from a participant and quickly spaced out the tables in the hall since we had ample room.

By 8:30 am, we were ready to commence, and we decided to start at 8:40 am. I delivered a brief opening remark, expressing gratitude to all participants for their presence and introducing the Chief Arbiter and his assistants. Jonathan then conducted his briefing session, and we nominated a five-person Appeals Committee. We also invited Russian international master Pavel Shkapenko to draw for his color in the first round.

The event officially began at 9 o'clock, with three rounds before lunch and four rounds after. We managed to finish on time, and the prize-giving ceremony commenced at six-thirty. My thanks go to Lee Eu Beng and See Swee Sie for graciously presenting the prizes.

Taiping and Kuala Kurau day trip

I embarked on a day trip to Taiping and Kuala Kurau, with my mother-in-law joining us on the journey. It turned out to be a delightful excursion, taking us through the scenic secondary roads of southern Kedah and northern Perak.

Our adventure began with a detour through Serdang and Selama before we continued our journey along the eastern side of Red Hill Lake, eventually arriving in Taiping through Kamunting. By this time, we had worked up quite an appetite. Unfortunately, the Dragon Phoenix Restaurant was closed, so we opted for the Yu Xiang Seafood Restaurant. While it didn't quite meet our expectations, the dishes were reasonably priced, and we enjoyed a satisfying meal that cost us approximately RM86 for four dishes.

We initially planned to spend some leisure time at Taiping Lake, but our plans were disrupted by raindrops, prompting us to shorten our visit. Consequently, we decided to visit the Antong coffee mill, which is reputed to be the oldest in Malaysia. It struck me as odd that they weren't emphasizing their 90th anniversary this year. I believe that every milestone should be celebrated, as none of us can predict the future. Perhaps they are waiting for their 100th anniversary? Regardless, the mill was undergoing renovations, and the old bungalow building was off-limits to visitors. We did purchase some packets of coffee and tried their espresso ice-cream, which kept me awake for half the night.

From Taiping, we drove to the southern banks of the Kuala Kurau river to visit the Tai Tay Eah Temple located by the riverbank. Following our temple visit, we indulged in the ever-popular prawn omelette, although we found it a bit lacking in flavor this time. We also ordered an oyster omelette and a plate of fried mini-crabs. While the food was decent, it didn't particularly stand out. Afterward, we had an uneventful drive back home through Tanjong Piandang. The entire day seemed to pass by in the blink of an eye, but at least my mother-in-law found happiness in this delightful diversion in her life.

The temple pictured is the 聖菓院 temple in Kuala Kurau. Although not situated in Kuala Kurau town itself, it sits on the southern banks of the river. While the building may be relatively recent, possibly rebuilt on the same spot, the temple has a history dating back to 1882 when the ancestors of the present townsfolk immigrated from Hock Kien in China. They brought with them the worship of the deity Poh Seng Tai Tay (保生大帝) or Tai Tay Eah. It is unclear whether it was the original ashes in the joss stick urn or the deity's image itself that was brought over. The caretaker may claim it was the image, but it's challenging to ascertain if he knows for certain or is simply passing down a story through the generations.

This Tai Tay Eah is the same deity worshipped at the Cheng Leong Keong (清龙宫) temple in Jelutong on Penang Island. Both temples celebrate the deity's birthday on the 15th day of the third Chinese lunar month. The dates of establishment were sourced from AngKongKeng.com, and if accurate, the Kuala Kurau temple predates the one in Jelutong by several years! The Swee Cheok Tong (Seh Quah Kongsi) also commemorates the birthday of Tai Tay Eah, our chief resident deity, on the same day. In fact, the original name of our clan's house was Tai Tay Eah Society before it became known as Swee Cheok Tong when it was founded by our forefathers in 1846.

Farewell to three friends

The past three weeks have been a rollercoaster of emotions for me, filled with both anticipated joys and unexpected sorrows. While my schedule has been busy with planned activities, it has also been marked by unwelcome news of the passing of people I've known for over 40 or 50 years.

It all began on August 19th when we eagerly gathered for the Ban Hin Lee Bank reunion dinner at a prominent hotel in George Town. As my wife and I stepped out of the elevator, we were greeted by uproarious laughter echoing from the end of the corridor. "That must be Lean Hin," we thought to ourselves. His laughter was unmistakable, a sound we had heard countless times during our working years and even during the times when we were no longer part of the BHLBank family. But when we entered the foyer, where people were mingling and registering, Lean Hin was nowhere to be seen. His name was absent from the registration list, indicating that he couldn't attend the reunion. However, the strangest thing was hearing a laughter so distinct that it resembled his. And it wasn't just me; my wife had noticed it too.

The next day, we received word through our grapevine that Lean Hin had passed away due to a heart ailment. He had been unwell and hospitalized for over a month, yet nobody outside his immediate family knew about it. We were all shocked, but my wife and I were perhaps the most stunned.

Our acquaintance with Lean Hin dates back to 1983. He was a fellow Old Free and a member of The Old Frees' Association, albeit several years my junior. We never crossed paths in Penang Free School. My wife was working in the bank's Bukit Mertajam branch, and Lean Hin joined the staff as a clerk that year. He was friendly and amiable, eventually ascending to the position of branch manager in Kamunting when the bank was taken over by Southern Bank. Later, he worked at the Penang Turf Club for several years. He would have celebrated his 60th birthday in 2023.

Just three days later, another surprise shook us. A friend informed me that his uncle, his father's brother, had passed away on the 23rd morning at the age of 92. I had known Chong Kee Kian for an extended period. In the late 1970s, he dropped by the Hooi Lye Association in Kimberley Street one Sunday afternoon. He had heard about the Penang Chess Association's chess sessions there and was eager to join us for some friendly games. When I saw him entering and looking around at the players, none of whom paid him any attention, I approached him for a chat. Before long, we were challenging each other on the chessboard, marking the beginning of a decades-long friendship. It later turned out that Kee Kian was also an Old Free. Although chess was a hobby for him, his true passion was ballroom dancing. On one of their milestone anniversaries, he and his wife invited my wife and me to their anniversary dinner at a prominent heritage hotel. Throughout the evening, they glided gracefully across the dance floor, the perfect dance partners for each other.

The advent of the Covid-19 pandemic took a toll on his health. However, considering he was nearly 90 years old, it wasn't entirely surprising. He spent time in intensive care on several occasions but recovered each time. Unfortunately, he was no longer strong enough to venture out on his own. I can't recall the last OFA annual dinner he attended, but whenever we met, we greeted each other like old friends.

Then, on a Tuesday, I received a message from Chee Wooi informing me that his father had passed away that morning. I initially couldn't believe the news. How could Saw Boo Pheng be dead at 71? I had no inkling he was ill, let alone on the brink of death. It took me some time to accept it, but the information came from his son, so it had to be true. The peculiar thing was that in the past week or so, his name had suddenly crossed my mind. I had the inexplicable thought that I should get in touch with him. It was a mystery as to why or how that thought had occurred, but it did. Unexplainable.

Boo Pheng and I shared a long history. We met in May or June of 1972 at Han Chiang Primary School while playing chess. He was representing the Technical Institute team, and I played for the Penang Free School team. We were strangers, but by the end of the game, we had forged a friendship that would last for decades. In 1989, fate brought us together to collaborate on writing a beginner's book on chess with another friend. The publishers wanted a Bahasa Malaysia version, and Boo Pheng stepped in to assist with the translation. As he was both a teacher and a chess player, he understood what I needed, making the translation process seamless. The book, titled "Catur," was born. Interestingly, when the publishers later requested an English version of the book, I couldn't locate my original manuscript, and I had to translate the contents from Bahasa Malaysia back into English.

Beyond chess, we shared another passion: durian. In the 1990s, he would call me to join him on a durian hunt at the fruit stalls of Balik Pulau and Paya Terubong during durian season. The fact that I would travel all the way from Bukit Mertajam to meet in Paya Terubong is a testament to our mutual love for durian. Our durian adventures lasted for three or four years before I eventually grew weary of the long drive.

So here's to Lean Hin, Kee Kian, and Boo Pheng.

Portable chess sets

I stumbled upon a treasure trove of chess sets tucked away in the back of a cupboard a few days ago. These were foldable, two-dimensional chess sets designed for playing chess or analyzing games while on the move. They used to be incredibly popular in the past before the advent of smartphones with chess apps. Nowadays, these portable chess sets have become a bit of a relic.

In the picture, you can see three of these sets. The one at the bottom right is a souvenir from the 29th Chess Olympiad held in Novi Sad, Serbia, in 1990. It comes in a leather casing, and the pieces are small chess figurines affixed to transparent, flat plastic that can be pushed into tiny slots on the leather board.

The set at the bottom left is undoubtedly of Soviet origin, with Cyrillic characters on the cover. Unfortunately, I can't read Cyrillic, so I'm not sure what it says.

The topmost set was a souvenir from a flight with Singapore Airlines a long time ago.

A little update on these sets: I also bought two Portland cardboard chess sets a while back. One set had a single chess board, while the other featured two chess boards laid out side-by-side but came with only one set of pieces. It's possible that the missing set had found its way elsewhere, but I can't quite recall.

The original Portland cardboard set from England was made by Robinson & Sons Ltd of Chesterfield and sold through CHESS Sutton Coldfield. Decades later, when I acquired the double chess board version, I bought it from Ignatius Leong's chess outfit known as National Chess Enterprises. By then, he might have acquired the rights to produce the Portland set in Singapore.

A second update: It turns out that the Portland cardboard chess set has quite an interesting history. The original manufacturer was Robinson & Sons Ltd of Chesterfield in Derbyshire, England, a family business founded in 1839 by John Bradbury Robinson (1802-1869). Initially, they made pill boxes but later became a significant packaging and healthcare business.

John Bradbury Robinson had two sons, and one of them was named Charles Portland Robinson (1844-1916). The cardboard chess set bore the Portland name, which seems to be connected to Charles Portland Robinson. The Portland Works, an extension of their manufacturing plants, was opened in 1920.

Victor Owen Robinson, another member of the family, set up the Chesterfield Chess Club in 1924 and became its vice-president. He worked in the family business and became Chairman of Robinson & Sons Ltd in 1945. Here's where Marcel Duchamp, a famous French painter and chess player, enters the story.

Duchamp had created a leather pocket chess set in 1943 during World War II and had plans to produce and market them to chess enthusiasts. The special feature of his design was that the pieces would remain in place even when the set was moved about during travel.

After the war, Victor Owen Robinson came across Duchamp's innovative idea and saw the potential for mass-producing a cardboard version of this flat, foldable chess set. The Philadelphia Museum of Art suggests that the first edition of Victor Owen's cardboard chess sets appeared in 1950. They were likely named after the factory where they were made, the Portland Works.

Please note that this is my interpretation, and nothing is definitive. I could still be mistaken in my narrative and conclusions, and I welcome any new information that might shed more light on this chess set's history.

Nyonya food quite unreal

It's disappointing to hear that the dishes served at the OFA Centenary Show, which were supposed to be Nyonya cuisine, fell short of expectations. Authentic Nyonya cuisine is known for its complex and harmonious flavors, blending sweet, sour, and spicy elements. It's unfortunate that the food didn't live up to these expectations.

Cultural and regional dishes often have unique characteristics and flavors, and it can be challenging to recreate them accurately, especially for a large event like the Centenary Show. Some caterers may take shortcuts or adapt recipes to suit a broader audience, which can result in dishes that don't fully capture the essence of the cuisine.

It's essential to have open and honest feedback about the food at events like these. While some may have enjoyed the dishes, constructive criticism can help caterers improve and provide a more authentic dining experience in the future.

If you have the opportunity, perhaps you can recommend authentic Nyonya restaurants in George Town to those who praised the caterer's food. That way, they can experience the true flavors of Nyonya cuisine and make their own comparisons.

The OFA Centenary show

The OFA Centenary Show was an exceptional and unforgettable event, commemorating the rich heritage and remarkable talents associated with the Music And Drama Society of Penang Free School. This event provided a heartwarming platform for former students and teachers to unite, showcasing their exceptional talents and offering unwavering support for the school's cultural and artistic pursuits.

The performances delivered by prominent figures such as Lee Eu Beng, Karen Lee, Yong Kok Fooi, Abdul Raqib Karim, Roshini Thilegachandran, Ang Teng Chye, and Kean Yin Phing, as well as the enthusiastic contributions of Present Frees, clearly demonstrated the enduring spirit of creativity and devotion within the Penang Free School community. Andrew Lim Tatt Keong's touching dedication speech, which paid homage to past educators and underscored the significance of rejuvenating the Music And Drama Society, added profound meaning to the entire occasion.

The pivotal roles played by individuals like Cheong Lai Fong, Chee Sek Thim, and Philip Yeoh, who were instrumental in orchestrating and facilitating the Centenary Show, deserve high commendation. Their relentless efforts undoubtedly played a pivotal role in the show's resounding success and augur well for the future of the Music And Drama Society.

Celebrating the school's illustrious history and nurturing its cultural and artistic traditions represent vital facets of any educational institution. Events of this nature serve as a source of pride and solidarity among students, alumni, and educators alike, ensuring the enduring vitality of these cherished traditions for generations to come.