Friday, July 27, 2007

What is happening to me?

The preparation for the nikah and sanding took about a year. Then, I thought, it can't be too difficult to carry out the responsibility of a wife... afterall, bestfriends can always be bullied tolerant with each other....

There are times I get frantic if I fail to find time to cook for him in the weekdays. There are times I get frantic if there's a crease on the collar of his office shirt and with breakfast to prepare and he has only five minutes before he needs to leave, I'd go ballistic! Did he ask for all these? Nope.

Soon I'd think about when could I find the time to scrub the bathroom, re arrange the study, change the one headed pipe at the washing machine to a twin pipe so it's easy for me to bathe our coming baby.... should I change the way we behave on certain things, like everyone should be seated at the dining table, doa makan first before we start gorging. Ohhh!! How do we make time for friends? There's in-laws of each other to visit, our own furniture hunting (yeap still!), stealing time for short holidays.... waaaaaaiiiit a minute, no more brisk walking!!!! I must get back to dancing.... ouupphhhhh that's next year.. oowwwhhh.

To think how best I could carry out the responsibilities of a wife is one, three months through this marriage, a little dot the grew in me did quite sent us jumping all over the place. Poncho is already looking through baby's clothes and push chairs at month two while I'm still thinking if we could get a cozier set of sofa to laze around on during my unproductive lazier, heavier, third trimester days.

Then I began to sit down infront of the PC and thought.... why don't I just tryyy to do everything through the internet... just like dem people overseas.... juussttt get things in a click of a finger.

Geeeezzz, I didn't know I'm in for the greatestest surprises! Shazmin fm pointed us to wuuuhuuuu there's a place for preggie woman like me to go for a little work out without the price of Fitness First.

I know... I'm sooo jakun.

I'm gonna have this gorgeous Anya Hindmarch clutch bag:

and yeah... how about the idea of ordering furnitures through snail mail... ohhh, therapy great therapy!! Finally I found something with the right amount of drawer and wide arm space to spend time thinking what I should blog in the next 10 years and where all Poncho's thick stack of bills can be stored so he can seeeeee them. And it's not the price of what you see in Grange, gila ke satu study table kat situ RM3000!!

..... okay now. Move on to expenses on maid, that Preg Prego stroller, the Lensvik baby cot to match the rest of the things in the study.... oh my, oh myyyyyyyyy!!!!!!

K lah, tak yah belilah handbag tu. Biarlah aku mati.

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

The Lost Generation

Picture by muddybok

“Mana pergi budak zaman sekarang? Budak zaman sekarang mana gheti nak appreciate the kampung life?”

My dad lamented.

*conversation with my dad at my late grandma’s kampung last week at Kuala Pilah.

I nodded in agreement. It's so sad when I see that the kids nowadays are more interested with their playstation and notebooks even when they are here.

When I was their age, I remember counting the days when the school holidays would start as we would all be plonked at the kampung for at least a good one week.

Once there, everyone would only see my face during breakfast, lunch and dinner. Other times would be busy trapping birds, buffalo riding, bathing in the river behind the paddy field, fishing for Gouramis and Ikan Betuk at the bogs and basically doing anything outdoors.

I remember saving up my pocket money for my first pen knife (I was too young to carry a parang) when I was 10 years old and chained it proudly to my pants pretending to be the Camel Adventure Team Man.

I knew which plants and fruits were edible, which trees branches were good for making swords – eg. Kayu cenderai, while using a tempurung kelapa as the hand guard and good ole real gunny string as the handle cover. Using pokok jambu batu for kayu lastik. (The cenderai leaves were natural sandpaper and I used to it to smooth my swords, bow and arrow and lastik wood).
I learnt to climb a coconut tree and pluck fresh coconuts and chewing on sugarcane sticks to get that sugar high.

I had no qualms walking in the mud and the paddy fields, pulling off leeches on my feet and between my toes, squeezing tobacco water (taken from my late grandma’s Rough Rider and Craven A ciggies) on them and seeing them roll off. I vividly remember that HUGE stripey lintah which bit my toe and left blood all over my rubber slippers.

I remember wearing my late grandmas huge Mengkuang hat (which you only see in painting nowadays) for protection against the rain or just a banana leaf. I remember seeing the tracks of the herd of wild boars that caused havoc around the tapioca trees.
I remember my late grandma sitting on the main stairs kissing me and saying "datang balik yor.." (come back again OK?) with tears rolling down her cheeks when we leave back for KL, everytime until she passed away in that house. Especially, that sad and fornlorn look on her face when my parents were putting the luggage in the trunk. ...

As I walked under the old Rambutan trees that was planted for each and every one of my siblings by my late grandmother thirty two years ago, I could not help but think about the past and how I am blessed to have such an experience.

It’s really ridiculous that you get doughy, untanned urbanites to actually PAY MONEY to get half of this experience nowadays. ….walking gingerly in the mud with their expensive Nike shoes and socks – looking like fat gullible tourists.

Me and Maine vowed that we shall not raise our kids to be environmentally illiterate…

Posted by The Ponchoman

Monday, July 09, 2007

Balik ke Kampung Poncho.

Dear Abby the Real Intellect,

Just to share you a story that has to do with your comment on getting tourists do the real kampung thing, stay in a kampung house, pasang ubat nyamuk, tidur ramai-ramai.

Ever since I got pregnant, I was actually waiting for my own craving querks. Tapi tak ada pun, those I demanded are just due to avoid me feeling queasy against certain funny smelling food.

The only thing I longed for was to just sit in the middle of the woods. I just wanted to hear birds chirping, the sound of leaves grazing against each other, crickets ricketing at dusk, trees that bear tropical fruits and the sound of snapping branches under my feet as I walk pass all the trees.

I read recently in the papers, there's this homestay program at Kampung Hj. Doramy in Sabak Bernam that offers real life experience at the bendang, harvesting mangoes and coconuts. Learn batik drawing, make traditional kuih-muih. Wow!! Kan!!

But Poncho said, "Baik balik kampung."

I agreed immediately as my kampung is right smacked in the middle of a pekan.

We convoyed with his parents car. Reaching Kuala Pilah is abreeze. Of course I felt this way after comparing the hours we always made to Kota Bharu.

His mak bought blue crabs to cook us Ketam Gulai Kuning. She brought the mangkuk tingkat that is filled with other prepared lauk she cooked since 4am this morning at home. I saw golden fried cekodok in there too... emmmm!!!

We walked out the car, the land is big enough to place three big kampung houses within the same enclosure. They're owned by Poncho's mum's siblings. Bila sampai aje, Kak Long Milah who's staying in the adjacent house called us over. Oh gosh, there were durians waiting to be eaten. Kitaorang bentang tikar belakang rumah and makan bawah langit while I was trying to understand their Nogoghi dialect.

Poncho bukak baju menunjukkan perut pregnant nya and started the grass cutting machine.
We later on carik buah manggis lepas makan lunch.

At night... halamak, nak mandi tu yang lemah gila tu. Air panas takde (mengadala nak buat perangai orang bandar pulak).

I got it Abby, we did the kampung thing at last. Tidur atas tilam kekabu atas lantai, pasang ubat nyamuk and the cengkerik was making the background music.

It's a goal that must come true, we want to buy a land and build a rumah batu and kayu with a big garden to plant all the fruit bearing trees.

To be continued by Poncho.... I hope. This time, the content is dedicated to Jemey.

Monday, July 02, 2007

An Indigenous mechanic in a Bavarian Workshop

Meet Khamis - a BMW and Mercedes Benz specialist.

I was introduced to Khamis recently for servicing and since the job required more time than anticipated, I had to ask him a favour to pick up Maine at home as I had initially planned to pick her up for her tution class.

During the journey from Shah Alam to TTDI, we initially talked about usual car things and I asked him how he became a BMW and Merc specialist.

He started to rattle on about the technical aspects of all the latest BMW and Merc engines, spouting out names and figures with an Indonesian sounding like accent with his take on the pros and cons of valvetronic and kompressor engines.

I knew that that he was more than just talk, when he shared with me a recent incident when his towkay sent him to help a man in distress when his one month old S Class just stalled in the middle of a roundabout. He came with the portable computer in tow, did the diagnosis, but the computer still failed to detect the reason on the sudden engine shutdown.

Then he decided to backtrack the few meters of the car journey and found out that there was a pool of water which the owner drove into. After using his instincts, he finally managed to find the problem.

The driver hit the pool of water at such an angle that water was sucked into his air flow and into the engine. Wow….nobody thought of that. And true enough, this was the reason when they sent it back to the workshop.

Well, good for him you might say….they are a few chaps out there who are good in their trade.

I too had the same thought when our conversation switched to personal matters when said:

Khamis : Saya sebenarnya orang asli bang…

Poncho : Eh?….

Khamis : Saya orang Jakun dari Johor dan isteri saya orang Semai duduk kat perak..

Poncho : Oh….so you keturunan orang asli aje la….

Khamis : Tak. Saya memang hidup sebagai orang asli dari kechil. Saya tak pernah pergi pergi sekolah pun….

Poncho : Eh, abis tu macam mana awak boleh repair keta BMW dan Mercs dari atas sampai bawah?

Khamis : Saya masuk belajar kursus bengkeI IKM. lepas tu tawkey lama saya ajar repair keta. Mula2 keta jepun…lepas tu saya belajar buat BM dan Mercs….sampai sekarang….

I asked him how he learnt to read and write especially when using those complicated diagnostic machines and he replied:

"Ala….kita belajar je la bang….bapak saya dari kecil selalu kata jangan sekali-kali cakap kita malas atau letih. Orang asli kata apa kita cakap, mesti akan masuk ke dalam hati…jadi kita kena jaga apa yang masuk dalam hati kita…."

Wise words indeed. From a wise young indigenous man.

But what makes me really proud is that this is an orang asli who can dismantle and deciphere advanced german engines without even going to school.

Makes you kinda wonder why we all bother to slog ourselves in getting our tertiary education.

Khamis can be found at Autopex Glenmarie, Batu Tiga, Shah Alam.
Posted by Poncho.

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