I would love to continue narrating Mom's stories if I could but
circumstances are such that it has to be put on hold indefinitely for now. My
earliest recollections of mom started from the time when we moved into the 2nd
floor of the shop house in the middle of Kluang town when I was around 5 or 6
years old. My earlier years in our family home in Jalan Haji Manan were a
complete blank.
Mom is an extrovert. Generous, kindhearted, approachable,
friendly and has, in today's lingo, excellent PR skills. She is close to every
family members old and young alike and loved by both close and distant
relatives. She makes friends easily where ever she goes. Dad on the other hand was
the exact opposite character. Cold, distant, aloof and not the easiest person
to approach and talk to even for us children when we were young.
Mom was ever the gracious host. Kind, courteous and generous
offering every visitor to the house a cup of Milo, then considered a nutritious
and luxurious drink. We kids only get to drink Milo when we were sick. I grew
up associating Milo with sickness. I can assure you, when you were running a
high fever and nauseous, the drink would not go down very well. With such traumatic
memories still deeply entrenched, I have not touched that stuff for a very very
long time since.
There were generally 2 categories of visitors in those days.
The first being the relatives from both mom's and dad's
sides. Dad was generally anti-social and would do the disappearing act whenever
a visitor dropped by. Dad had the habit of either reading the papers or napping
while lying on his favorite canvas lounge chair in the living room, dressed
only in his homemade pajama boxer short and white Pagoda singlet. Whenever he heard
voices of relatives coming up the stairs, he would jump to his feet and fled
into the bedroom. Even back then, I find it comical. Of course there were occasions
when he was caught off guard. The situation was rather embarrassing so mom took
a couple of dad's long pants to cut and sew them into shorts for him.
Then there was the occasional visit usually in the morning by
2nd great grand uncle who was an opium smoker. He would come by for some money to
support his habit, but I can't ever remember seeing dad spoke to him. Usually
the money was passed to him by mom. Every once in a few months, a poor distant
relative from Paloh would drop by. Mom would pass to her bundles of clothing we
no longer wear for her children and other goodies.
Festive seasons especially the days before the Chinese New
Year were always a busy time. The giving
and exchange of live chickens, ducks, cakes and other goodies would go on for
countless rounds. There were no courier services then. The kids would do all
the delivery service either on foot or bicycle running to and fro with the
baskets of foods. The grumbling house help was not spared either from the task.
Outstation relatives who stayed over at the house were
treated like royalties. Eating out at a restaurant was not in vogue then so mom
had to cook up a storm. Every meal was a big feast. All her servings were super
large to ensure it was enough for everyone and never ran out or it would be a
big loss of face. I remembered those huge pots of herbal chicken soup that mom
brewed. A big bowl must be served to each guest before they departed for their
journey home.
The other category of visitors to the house were mostly
mom's mahjong kakis. These house wives would normally come after lunch and
played until about 5pm when it was time to go back to cook dinner. Occasionally,
I would sit behind mom and watched her play. So by the time I was 7, I was
already familiar with the game. I do not know how far back this Mahjong culture
has been with the Ng family but it should be at least 4 generations counting back to my grandmother's
time. With the current interest among family members, Mahjong is likely to
remain a favorite past time for many more generations to come.
Being an introvert child (Dad's genes) I became very domesticated.
Besides the hobby of observing ants and reading, I would follow mom around the
house watching her going about her task. That was how I picked up my initial cooking
and sewing skills. My daughter is still fascinated by the fact that I can sew
and operate a sewing machine.
simon 18 Nov 2016
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