I was sitting in the car, on the way to Nek Aji’s house. We went by Taman Harapan, where my late maternal grandmother lived. There and then, I remembered the old days when I would spend the weekends with her.
She lived by herself in Taman Harapan. On the weekends, I would spend the weekends with her. Occasionally, Nazrin and Nadia would also follow suit. It wasn’t only us, but cousins Han Han and San San also came. Those were back in the days when Malaysia still has a half-day workday on Saturdays. But our visits extend back to the days when she was still staying in Jalan Segama.
Oh, I remembered those days – we would arrive around 8am. Her house, in my opinion, is the very last in the housing area; just go straight into the housing area without turning into any junction and you could do no wrong. Entering the house was a sort of an obstacle. She has a dog. She already changed dogs four times, I think; the latest one is called Daisy, even though it’s a male dog. It was quite a large mutt; when I was in Year Five the dog reaches my waist. Every time we arrive the dog would come up to the sliding gate, barking its lungs out. But Popo (that’s what we called our grandmother) would come out and bring it to the back to tie it up, or just hold on to Daisy while we scurried into the house. Han Han would arrive earlier because her mother (my aunt) worked in the market.
After Popo comes into the house, she would ask us whether we have had our breakfast yet. Either way, we would be propped in the kitchen, looking at the kuih-muih that she brought home from the market. There would be little plastic bags filled with kuih lapis, hum-jin-piang (kuih kuping gajah in my paternal tongue; round discs of dough with a brown spiral line on it made from five-spice powder), kuih bom (round dough with a peanut+sugar paste filling) and my favourite . It’s a flat-ish white translucent bun, steamed with a banana leaf used to support it. It is filled with a delicious mixture of shredded water chestnut and radish. Sometimes she would make steamed cake, which is good enough to eat without any topping.
After breakfast, the day would go by with activities; at one time, we would set up little stores, where we would sell some of our toys; this wasn’t pretend purchase using fake money and the merchandise was given back at the end of the day; we have pocket money, and we both have toys of the other that we covet. So instead of fighting or stealing, we sold them to each other. At this time, Popo would be sitting besides us, TV perpetually tuned to either of these channels: TVB XingHe, Celestial Movies or Wah Lai Toi. But we wouldn’t be playing around for a long time. Mum has told me that we were there not to burden Popo too much; so we would also help out around the house, sweeping, cleaning and other chores that children can help with.
Around 11am (or as late as 12 noon), Popo would turn the TV off and we would go into the kitchen where she would start lunch. She doesn’t need to cook much; there would be fish left over from last night’s dinner. All she had to do was cook some vegetables, and we’d be set for lunch. Occasionally, she would ask me to get a can of vegetarian duck/chicken/abalone for lunch too; she knew that I loved those. After lunch, we would help out with the dishes and put unfinished food into the food cabinet.
In the afternoon, Popo would take a nap; it was either on the dining room floor or in the living room. She would walk leisurely into the room, get a pillow and lie down. The cool tiled floor of both places was a good place to get rested, especially on a hot afternoon. We the children would continue playing. Sometimes we would be drawing and coloring; sometimes we would watch Cartoon Network and Disney Channel. And sometimes, we would also take a nap, but not alongside Popo. We would wake her up, because we would still be chatting, kind of like a pillow talk.
The evenings… 4 o’clock was the time that we were allowed to go out to play, but plans would have started since 3 o’clock. Because of the Journey to The West/Monkey King hype, we liked to do roleplaying, each playing a character inspired by the story. There would be a myriad of improvised weaponry; cudgels from broken broomsticks, long staff from okay-broomsticks, or a paper fans. If we were really in the mood (and Popo doesn’t seem to mind), we would also have capes made from thin bed sheets. There would be basic guidelines, such as no hard-hitting. But the part that was the hardest to watch over was spell-casting. Someone would be hit, and he/she would claim that a protection spell was cast beforehand. There would be some quarrelling, but no hard feelings were felt. Later in the evening, Popo would come out for some fresh air; she would just sit on the yellow iron-cast bench outside the house, sometimes chatting with the makcik or aunties who walk by and takes a rest beside her. Sometimes we would also sit with her, chatting. Daisy the dog would either be tied at the back of the house, or it would be set loose to mingle with the other dogs. Around this time, Mum and Dad would arrive, taking me home.
Those were the days~
