Ah Chek and Ah Cheks

I saw Ah Chek while on the way home on the cab just now. He was crossing the road and he was quite close to the cab. I could have wound down the window to say hello to him but the lights had turned green and there would not be enough time for him to realise who I am, or for me to explain and jolt his memory. I didn't want to risk him thinking that I was some crazy girl trying to pick him up! haha...

Anyway, as the cab started to move away, I sat back and poignant memories of school-bus-life came to my mind. I remember this particular Ah Chek well because he had ever caned me for something I did not do and I cried out because I felt misunderstood and not cos it was painful or what. I was just moving towards the door of the bus to say bye to my friend as she got off the bus and he thought I was trying to be funny with the door of the bus. The next thing I knew, I felt a sharp pain on my upper arm and when I turned around, I realised that I had been caned by him! I was upset and cried, but because of my pride, I tried to hide the tears by covering my face.

My, has has certainly aged. He looked alot older and he still has that thick black George Lam moustache on his upper lip. I tried to count the number of years it has since been...and wow...it's been TWENTY years!! He is still driving buses now cos he had crossed the road from the heavy-vehicle carpark.

We were a noisy bunch. I wonder how he tolerated our chatter, laughter and monkey tricks (we were not nicknamed the Monkey Girls' School for no reason) while still driving the bus, maintaining his sanity and ensuring that we all arrived safely back home/to school.

There are a couple of other school bus drivers that I remember very clearly. There was Mr Lee (He fetched me to school when I was in Primary 1) and he had very big and yellow teeth. He used to ask me questions like "Hui hui, ni hui bu hui" and he would give me funny replies when I saied whether I "hui" or "bu hui".

Then there was Hock Seng. THE Mr Hock Seng who owns a fleet of buses to ferry us MG gals. He would not remember us by name but by our house or block number. I naturally became 2-5-7. We were all very irritated by his number-calling cos we felt like we were not treated like humans. There were always loud protests from us girls whenever he called us by number but it was always in jest and he would joke along.

Then there was Hock Seng's father. I've ever been ferried by him to school on many occasions. This old man likes to roll up his T-shirt all the way and let it rest on top of his belly. He kind of looked like one of the Taoist deities with the large belly. He also shaved his head "botak" and he looked odd cos his hair was all grey and white. He was a nice man. Very grandfatherly.

We had a couple of other bus drivers but none quite as significant as these few. I do remember there was a younger driver who was quiet and did not really communicate with us on the bus and we nicknamed him Lizard because we thought he simply looked like one.

I think my school life was made more fun because of the school bus-rides.