When I'm 7, I had to go back to JB for formal schooling. Then, I was under the care of abang Ngah, my eldest sister A. Dodie and Tok. Living in an extended family is surely an experience. Weekends were spent roaming tok's dusun of pulasan, durian, 8 rambutan trees, lots of fragrant flowers and roman like garden. Furit season are spent camping with brothers at the durian trees, eating rambutan on the tree, fresh pluck. Sometimes weekend were spent catching fish at the drain or playing fresh spring water from Mak Long's perigi with mata air. Lido beach is just a 15 minutes walk from Tok's house and we'd go there with our brothers while they catch Talapia, the girls will either pick up Kepah or swim.
Walking to Sekolah Ugama Bukit Zaharah to save the bus fare to buy Jajan was not only a lesson on budgeting but more of roaming places, learning many new things along the walks. We'd pass through the Hospital tun Aminah's mortuary, plucking kayu manis from its trees at the Istana compound, walk through traditional homes, graveyard with friends. Once I flew with my umbrella, during one windy day, on the way to sekolah ugama tambatan and landed just a few feet from the river. I really believe the sunnah that the farther you explore the wiser you become just like all prophets who were mostly cattle owners. At other times I saved the travelling by cycling on a. Ani's Raleigh bike given by abah for his LCE results. I learnt cycling with my maid Kak June. Later on cycling becomes my errant sending kuih and going to the grocer store. At times end up having sprint with A. Acid to the store and came back with bruised knee. Those scars are still visible.
Raya is the best seasons ever-sending lauk to auntie's house cum collecting duit raya. Not forgetting the mercun time and tarawikh prayers along with the elders at Surau Mahmudiyyah or Surau Atas.....To be continued.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
My blog is my scrap book
I learnt to make scrap books while in primary school, way back in 1975. I kind of like it but didn't manage to continue with this project until now. I want to share my moments with my children picking up history so to say.
Al though I was born in Muar I hardly had a hint of those early years. Most of my childhood were spent in JB especially Tok's house which now has turned jungle. Before that we stayed in Majidee Camp since Abah served in the army then. Ging to Naafi is a joy especially getting the 'imported' lollies and varieties of other jajans. Now it has lost its glamour where only the army families can shop of imprted goods there.
Later at 5 years of age, I followed the family to Jakarta. Abah posted at the Malaysian Embassy there but our elder four siblings got to stay in JB for schooling. Life was fun each passing day there with every single experience a life long lessons but not for our four elder siblings. School holidays when we managed to gather as a whole family is what Abah looked forward to. He started recording everyones voice in his Sharp Radio cassette player at night out in the lawn watching stars while eating fresh boiled peanuts sold by passing peddlars. We'll all sing and recite whatever we wished. Few years later ...hearing our small voices was a delight. That made us what we are.
Al though I was born in Muar I hardly had a hint of those early years. Most of my childhood were spent in JB especially Tok's house which now has turned jungle. Before that we stayed in Majidee Camp since Abah served in the army then. Ging to Naafi is a joy especially getting the 'imported' lollies and varieties of other jajans. Now it has lost its glamour where only the army families can shop of imprted goods there.
Later at 5 years of age, I followed the family to Jakarta. Abah posted at the Malaysian Embassy there but our elder four siblings got to stay in JB for schooling. Life was fun each passing day there with every single experience a life long lessons but not for our four elder siblings. School holidays when we managed to gather as a whole family is what Abah looked forward to. He started recording everyones voice in his Sharp Radio cassette player at night out in the lawn watching stars while eating fresh boiled peanuts sold by passing peddlars. We'll all sing and recite whatever we wished. Few years later ...hearing our small voices was a delight. That made us what we are.
Pre School in Jalan Imam Bonjol
What I can remember back then..started kinder schooling at Imam Bonjol. The bungalow house has ample compound to roam and set with few mango tree plus two flagpole right in front of the house. There were Malaysia and Indonesia flag. The whole house were covered with mosquitoe netting. So much so that all doors and windows can be opened all day long except night fall. Behind the house was the maid quarters. On the left handside was our neighbour cum landlord ( a Sumateran old lady who made yummy Minang cuisines).
Every morning Bibik would walked me to school with some money as fees along with 1 kg of rice( guess that is also part of the fees). The uniform consist of three sets-one in batik, another in yellow and brown pinafore and the last is the outing attire. I didn't remember learning as much headache but more of sheer joy singing, dancing, making friends. Sometimes we would visit the neighbourhood of those in mishaps or sick with some gift. At some weekends were spent celebrating birthday parties of school mates who happen to be staying within the same vicinity. Once we went for a movie with the entire class and the class teacher watching a Japanese occupation war movie but I went with my Bibik. Returning home in a rickshaw along with my elder sister Che Yang.
Reminiscing those days when I accompanied one of our old Bibik for treatment on her hunch at a 'weird' accupuncturist. Che yang went too for her blisters treatment. The scent of the accupuncture needle burnt can still be remembered till today. Whats so significant about this healer is that he feeds on flowers and he has weird regiment that is really strange to others. May be he's a pawang there. He lived just a few block away from our house.
Smelling the mango tree was my once passion. More so than picking ripe mangoes. Another memory was having pets of our own- some rabbits and some birds set at the garage. Nonetheless, they are shortlived. Maybe not exposed to the sun outside. Too many incidents to pen especially how I end up getting eggs on my forehead upon achievement to climbed up on the top of the flagpole only to be wung at the opposite direction and it finally hit my head.....silly...funny but mere fun of growing up.....
Every morning Bibik would walked me to school with some money as fees along with 1 kg of rice( guess that is also part of the fees). The uniform consist of three sets-one in batik, another in yellow and brown pinafore and the last is the outing attire. I didn't remember learning as much headache but more of sheer joy singing, dancing, making friends. Sometimes we would visit the neighbourhood of those in mishaps or sick with some gift. At some weekends were spent celebrating birthday parties of school mates who happen to be staying within the same vicinity. Once we went for a movie with the entire class and the class teacher watching a Japanese occupation war movie but I went with my Bibik. Returning home in a rickshaw along with my elder sister Che Yang.
Reminiscing those days when I accompanied one of our old Bibik for treatment on her hunch at a 'weird' accupuncturist. Che yang went too for her blisters treatment. The scent of the accupuncture needle burnt can still be remembered till today. Whats so significant about this healer is that he feeds on flowers and he has weird regiment that is really strange to others. May be he's a pawang there. He lived just a few block away from our house.
Smelling the mango tree was my once passion. More so than picking ripe mangoes. Another memory was having pets of our own- some rabbits and some birds set at the garage. Nonetheless, they are shortlived. Maybe not exposed to the sun outside. Too many incidents to pen especially how I end up getting eggs on my forehead upon achievement to climbed up on the top of the flagpole only to be wung at the opposite direction and it finally hit my head.....silly...funny but mere fun of growing up.....
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