Nostalgia for the green,green,grass of Kampung

"Run for your life! Those KL people are
back.......you will be in hot soup soon!"




April 28 (Day 18 post-first chemo)

The box has "Neimann Marcus" emblazoned across it. It is a square white box that used to contain a gift. I put some jasmine petals in it and by the end of the day, the box was full of my hair. The hair that I tugged at while in conversation with some close friends who came by to visit. By the time I retired for the night, I was really light headed and my scalp was showing through the thinning hair-do. I will keep the box safely and when new hair shows up 6 months or so from now, I will compare the pre and post chemo hair to see if there are differences. I feel good knowing that if thousands of hair follicles have been zapped, it also means any remaining cancer cells would have been zapped as well.

The "good" thing about going through the cancer challenge is that we can be a source of comfort for others who might be going through their own internal turmoils or problems. I tell my friends who are unhappy about something or other that yes, what they are facing is a challenge, but that their problem is more manageable compared to battling cancer which requires life-long surveillance. You can't throw in the towel with cancer, it will be a long, long conscious relationship and you cannot ever let your guard down.

I decided against crowded places today even though I was beginning to feel a little restless by 11am. I was planning to join the Litbloggers Breakfast Club event at MPH BV2 Bangsar and go to the KL International Book Fair at PWTC but was advised against it since my immunity is still depressed and I need to make sure that I am fit for May 3's 2nd chemo. I was hoping to browse for books on dealing with Cancer at the bookfair but ended up browsing at the Times Bookstore in Plaza Damas instead before the lunch crowd got out and about. There weren't too many new titles that interest me. Bookshops make me feel good, always that "the world is at your doorstep" feeling. I like browsing through and feeling the rows and rows of books, marvelling at some of the very creative titles that the authors had come up with.



Nostalgia

After yesterday's post, I managed to get myself really homesick for Masjid Tanah. Although I was born there, I spent all my life in KL, and Seremban where I went to school. Masjid Tanah will always have a special place in my heart. The place was the highlight of my childhood school holidays (the Balik Kampung )when my Mum will pack us off so she can spend time there with her family. I remember a childhood of running around the compound naturally landscaped with coconut palms and every imaginable fruit trees. Durian, Rambutan, Mango, Mangosteen, Chiku, Jackfruit, Cempedak, Langsat, Kundang, Belimbing, different varieties of Banana trees, the list goes on. The fruit season in August was always something we looked forward to and somehow much tastier than the all-year-round supply that we have these days. The vibrant yet soothing green of the rice fields was a welcoming sight, like the appearance of a long lost friend.


I remember as a child sitting on my great grandfather's lap while he peeled rambutans for me. The house used to be the focal point for all his children who lived within the same Kampung, so everyday there was always a family or two visiting and the house and compound was more often packed than not. In the early 60's one of my uncles used to conduct Kelas Dewasa in our compound to teach the seniors in our Kampung to read. We still have a copy of the class photograph with a lineup of the senior "literati" of the Kampung, most of them no longer with us today.

Those were good old days . I wonder how the kids today would manage if they were to be zapped back in time to those days-no colour tv,no mobile phone(infact no phone),no fast food, no computers and internet, no gizmos. We managed by being very aware of our surroundings and spent most of our time outdoors. There were games we played on the foreground, hopscotch, congkak (my late Mum was really good in this, she beat everyone), and badminton on a makeshift court (my Dad did the coaching, he used to be good). When we felt adventurous, the boys would swim in the river near the Ampang Batu, the water so clear and cool you can see the tiny rainbow guppies flickering underwater as you stood over the water's edge. At night, we kids would be sleeping over at some relatives' place and the highlight would be the ghost stories that all the neneks would tell us,in between their betel leaf (sireh) chewing with us kids in a row (everyone fighting to sleep in the middle) sleeping not in the bedroom but in the Ibu rumah.

I can't help it but I like to think about the food that we used to enjoy as children in the kampung. Fast food was on-existent then, unless you consider the Sotong Bakar, sold by the man who cycled past ever so steadily so that we get a sniff of the aroma of Sotong Bakar from his bicycle. When he sensed some interest, he would park his tricycle and set up his satay-grill on which he would be grilling dried cuttlefish. If you like sotong you know the smell can mesmerise you and you would find your way there to get just a little bite. Sotong Bakar was not a meal, it was an indulgent, perhaps what Cheezels is to the kids today.

Sometimes the Icecream man with his "Roulette" wheel would pass by clanging his ancient bell. I miss that sound -Ting,Ting,Ting- with a background of the creaking from his trusty old bicycle. 5 sen will allow you one turn at the "Roulette" wheel, cleverly fixed onto his Icecream carrier box and if you are lucky you might win an extra ice-cream mangkuk (much coveted in those days) or otherwise it was just the normal icecream potong. My grandma used to issue to us kids some coins from her "Pau", a close to the body bum-bag that she had under her baju kurung. She would find it hard to swallow that today one has to pay at least RM5 for a decent icecream in a cup!

The best part of being in Kampung then was the kampung fare that we got to enjoy while there. In those days, gulai was prepared fresh. In every sense of the word. What would you like, asked my Grandma. If we said "Ikan", somehow some freshly caught (usually still alive) ikan haruan, sembilang or puyu would surface from somewhere. Like a well conducted orchestra, the womenfolk would be doing their bit(my relatives were always around), one cleaning the still wriggling fish, someone would be grating the coconut to get freshly squeezed coconut santan, yet another one will be pounding or using the Batu Giling to liquidize the main ingredients of turmeric and chilli padi. Within minutes, a heavenly dish of gulai ikan masak lemak chilli api would be whipped up, often with side dishes of ulam-ulam, pucuk ubi and sambal. If there were very small kids whose tastebuds were still tender, then there would be the ever popular ayam goreng.

The sights and smells of meal preparation are still vivid in my mind to this day. It would be fish one day and chicken or beef the next. Chicken will always be home bred, fed with corn or wheat/rice husks and sans hormone. Fowl would be small kampung chicken(very petite) but packed with a lot of goodness. Beef would be freshly slaughtered. Somehow the Kampung grapevine would know when the Towkay Daging will be slaughtering an animal, and everyone would get busy tying to ensure that they get the best parts (the tenderloins or batang pinang and coveted parts of the beef like the liver, brain, ribs). As telephones were still a novelty in our kampung in those days, trying to ensure your supply was not through a phone call or sms text, but a quick cycle ride or walk to where the slaughter would take place. And the beef was grass fed, a free roaming steer helping himself to uncontaminated grass and water from his grazing place ( usualy the backyard of the Towkay).

I wonder if we will be able to experience this in any part of Malaysia now. Or do we have to be content that we have gone a long way since now we can avail ourselves to Kobe beef, airflown ( how else will they get here) beef from Australia and elsewhere, fresh or frozen from the Supermarket shelves. I miss those simple, sensible days of yore. Days of maybe limited choice, but whatever you chose would be a healthy choice when profit generating hormones/vaccinations on animals were uncommon.

There must be a pervasive sense of nostalgia experienced by other KL folks as well. I looked around me and what do I see? Despite the fact that we can get everything in KL and shop in airconditioned comfort these days, I see shopping complexes setting up "weekend bazaars". These bazaars replicate the pasars in the Kampungs where tents have been set up and trays of spices, fruits and kuehs are offered for sale by the various stalls. Using old fashioned brown bags instead of plastic! I was pleasantly surprised actually.

What will my nephews and nieces remember when they reach their golden years ? What will bring back that nostalgia of their early childhood? I think of good, old fashioned home cooking, of trips to the kampung, of my relatives and their stories of ghosts and bountiful harvests. Of my grandma stirring dodol or wajik with the relatives(a social occasion) that we can bring to KL to last us until the next trip to Balik Kampung. Maybe my nephews and nieces will remember their Hari Raya in the kampung, complete with pelita and sparklers, the fairy lights and mild fire crackers to create that festive air. Or will they only recall the trips to Pizza Hut and McDonalds in Melaka town, and nothing else that Masjid Tanah had offered?

I miss my Kampung, where it is easy to get the best of both worlds. The modern and the traditional. The old fashioned values and the new perspectives on things. And where both my heart and my head can
reign peacefully side by side because life can be simple and there is less conflict on what is and what it appears to be. And I miss my Mum, may she rest in peace. Alfatihah.