For the previous 23 years of my life, whenever people questioned about my lack of driving license self, I would told them that it was because of my father's doing. See, I am his precious little girl. Remembering all the stunts and accidents that I encountered on my bicycle alone shivers him. No license, he said.
The truth is I have always been scared to take a driving license of my own. Hearing the tales about the atrocious JPJ officers on their tests scares the shite out of me. Everyday news on gruesome traffic accidents did nothing to help either. Plus I was going abroad for my studies, and with the thought that I won't be needing the license after all as the public transport in the UK is superb, I forget this driving business.
When I graduated in July, I was summoned back to Malaysia as soon as our graduation was over to fulfill our 8 years contract with the government. Some of us tried to extend our stay, trying to fish some pound sterling notes with the remaining duration on their visas. Some were just trying to finish their notes on travelling and shopping. And a few were too attached to the English land to go home.
Only a handful were given the luxury. Others were emailed to come home immediately.
However, upon our arrival, none of the email came. We tried to call, the ringing went for ages, as though the number belongs to the hotline for Hellgirl. A few were answered, but no definite answer was given.
In the Facebook forum.
"I am thinking of getting a new permanent job"
"Can't get a part-time job. They won't hire any hijabis"
"You know we're in contract rite? You might have to pay the million ringgit scholarship refund"
"Damn you moe moe"
"Got a job already. Beat ya!"
"I AM BROKE."
"I wish I am still in the UK"
"I wish I'm not home at all"
In the end, we got an unofficial response from someone who managed to have her call answered by the Hellgirl.
"Our training will start on January."
People went berserk. And immediately went to find a temporary job.
Myself included. I was attracted to profession as research assistant. I contacted a few friends that had been in local universities whom I still had the courage to talk to, and asked if there are any RA jobs available in their school.
Turns out they are plenty. Most of them requires at least a six-months contract, and pursue in master's degree. I managed to talk to some researchers asking if it's possible to do a contract until January.
Now the job is there.
And then new problem arise.
I have no means of transportation to transport me to work. -_-
My kampung was situated besides paddy fields and the Utara-Selatan Highway. Although this is the case, the nearest bus stop is two-and-a-half kilometres away. And buses as scarce. One per hour. One for two hours if you're lucky. Be ready to experience Bangladeshi culture upon your ride on the Rapid Penang bus.
I have to walk for an hour if I am in a dire need for a prepaid top-up.
Even the name of my kampung is weird. Enough to make my dear friends (Kelantanese by the way) laugh at the distinct name.
Being the one that cannot ride a bike, let alone to have any skill to drive a damn car, I am stuck in my house. I don't even step outside the door, as I am bratty enough to let the cold gloomy weather of Lancaster beat the hot perspirative Malaysia. My only source of communication is the internet.
After two whole months living like a caveman, I could not take this no more. Even a cave is colder than my house. I don't go anywhere, unless in certain events where my father would take his car out for a night drive. Waking up late and reading manga/ playing games/ watching J-drama/ reading fictions and politics all day everyday was nice, but I am starting to feel worthless.
My father would prefer me staying home like this until I resume my training in January. But being the person that would be travelling even for a weekend trip while in the UK, the House Lifestyle really put me in despair.
Two weeks before, I started my license course, and will receive my L in the next week. It might take another month for me to complete my P. Until then, House Lifestyle. No job, no money, being a hikikimori. Am open for any lost soul who were back in Penang but had no one to hang out with. As long as you have a car I am in.
Improve our public trasnport already la!