Merepek

On my recent trip back to Penang, I saw one of my relatives spoon-fed her young grandson, a mischievous and bright-eyed 2 year old. The small tyke was placed on a rattan chair and grandma sat on a low wooden stool facing him; bowl of rice on one hand and spoon on the other. On the floor was a long, thin rotan, about 3 feet in length and one end coiled into a handle of sorts. Ah….ha….I saw the rotan and I was transported back to the time when I was the one on the rattan chair and my momma on the wooden stool. My lips curved into a smile.

Momma brooked no nonsense during meal times. Small brats and little cikus were not allowed on the dinner table. Momma would scoop the rice on a plate or bowl, add in the dishes of the day, mixed them all up and with 2 twacks of the rotan against the wall to signal feeding time and I would obediently climb onto the rattan chair. No ‘ifs’ and no ‘buts’ and I only got to get down when the bowl is cleaned of the last grain of rice. A gentle swish of the lethal rotan was all it was needed to remind me to focus on the task at hand.

When I was old enough to be ‘promoted’ to a place at the dining table, I was initially not allowed to scoop the dishes for myself. I would have to politely asked Sis or Poppa or whoever was next to me to oblige me and had to observe the etiquette on the table. No messy spills of soups or rice or dishes would be tolerated and I could only get down from the chair after every grain of rice is wiped off from the plate. It’s bad manners to be untidy and messy and shows disrespect for the elders, momma would extol. Count our blessings that we have food on the table and to waste and throw away food is a sin. Don’t make the Gods unhappy and ya, thunderclaps and lightning are signs of God's displeasure. And worse, a messy eater will marry a spouse with pocked-marked or ‘crater’ face, momma often foretold. That was more than enough to train little babas and nyonyas to be neat, clean and tidy. If at all, the little ones were still untidy, they would be quickly removed from the dining table and 'demoted' once more to the sidelines…..back to the rattan chair and the accompanying long and thin rotan.

I recall too, that the lethal rotan was often proudly displayed in most households - hung up on the kitchen wall or on the wooden door. It was a formidable weapon used to ensure the little ones toe the line….from instilling discipline and manners to 'rewards' for bringing home colourful school report cards. Who has ever heard of child abuse and mental and physical torture and human rights or whatever, then? I for one, had my fair share of feeling the thin rotan landing on my bare lower legs which left red welts that stayed for days and I am none the worse for it. The stinging pain of the rotan on my bare skin is nothing compared to the embarrassment of walking around with the angry red marks that took days to fade.