As I read and re-read what I last wrote, memories of so many events and experiences of my childhood which I thought were lost in the cobwebs of time came flooding back. A smile and a chuckle as I busied myself clearing some papers in the office or while on the road to my next appointment. I feel so good.
I smile as I remember the old Indian barber on his trusty Raleigh bicycle who came around the kampong every 6 weeks or so. He would park his bicycle underneath the huge jambu tree just beside my house and then open up his small rectangular rattan chest containing all his tools of the trade. Mothers would then call out loud for their boys…."Kar thau morrrr…Come quick…" and within minutes a small queue would form. Sit the boy on the wooden stool, tie a piece of white cloth over the small frame and Raju went **krricck…kricck…krricckk….** expertly wielding the manual clipper through the head of thick hair. Next…next…next and next…over and done with the kids, it would be the adults’ turn. As my buddies had their hair cuts, I’d be squatting nearby observing and sometimes, when curiosity got the better of me, I’d be poking my hand into the rattan chest - a treasure trove to an inquisitive 6-year old. Wow…such cool stuff in there…brushes, razors, and extra pair of clipper, combs, talcum powder, creams and some bottles with colourful liquid – those were cologne and aftershaves, I was told. “Ahemmm…..jangan…jangan…”, Raju would admonish me for meddling with his stuff. Finished with the haircut, my friend would reach underneath the leg of his short pants, untie the rubber band used to secure the coins in his pocket and retrieve the 30sen to pay Raju.
I remember following momma on her shopping trips to the ‘Mola’ (a localised variation of the Malay word ‘Murah’) Bazaar along Penang Road. I remember it as a very crowded maze…walk through the nooks and crannies to buy anything from ready-made clothes, fabrics, shoes, school bags, accessories, cosmetics, etc. etc. I remember momma’s favourite stall…the haberdashers. Momma was a fussy shopper and she took ages to select her threads, buttons and sewing supplies. I would be so bored and I would then amuse myself by running my hands through everything on display and then mixing up all the buttons on the trays. The shopkeeper would then smack his forehead in exasperation, “Alamak…you got itchy hands…how am I going to sort out this mess huh?” I would do my famous ‘jeling mata’ and go hide behind momma. Hahahaha….
I smile as I recall joining the boys catching spiders walking through the daun kadok patch next to my house. Our trained eyes look out for 2 leaves stuck together and then clasped the leaves with both hands and walk out to an open area…ah…I’d gently ease my prized catch into and empty matchbox or an old tobacco tin. Uncle Lee was surprised I dare to handle spiders and he commented that it would be fun to have his hairy tarantula eat up my tiny spider. **bawlsss…..**….Uncle Lee bully kechik….bully kechik….” Hahahha…
Spiders and cockroaches – no problems at all. I can catch them with my bare hands and I was the official spider catcher at home. Remember those grey-coloured spiders with long spindly legs and sometimes carrying a white egg-case the size of a 20sen coin, crawling on the wood beams in the house? See one and my sis would scream and run out of the bathroom, nevermind the shampoo still on her hair. Hahahah….But worms, snakes and caterpillars…I’d run a mile. I remember the huge white powder-coated caterpillar found rolled in a banana leaf…eeekssss….and the other caterpillars of about 4 inches long and covered with long spikes, found camouflaged among the tree trunks and branches…. eeekksss..eeekks… Also those clumps of thread-fine worms found along the ditches….some of my friends would scoop them into empty tins and taken home to feed their pet fish….yucckkss….
I remember once I followed my friends to go catch tiny fishes from the ditches. I had been warned by momma never to go near the dirty ditches but that particular afternoon, after much coaxing from my buddies, I went along. It was pure excitement just to scoop the fish using the small nets and then carefully empty the catch into glass jars we brought along. I was thrilled to bits with my fishes. I covered the mouth of the jar with a piece of newspaper secured with rubber bands and then poke some holes to allow the fish to breath. I hid my fishes in a shed outside the house and each morning I would peep at them before going to school. Wow…my fishes grew fast and after a few days, it grew legs…my fishes got legs!!!! "Those are tadpoles lar, bodoh.” my wise buddy laughed at me. My home-schooling science lesson.
I remember buying those tubes of resin for blowing clear bubble-like balloons. Wrap a tiny glob of the coloured resin on the tip of a small straw and blow…out comes a thin bubble balloon. Its fragile, but leaky ones could be easily repaired by sealing it with your lips. And there was another type of paper balloon…its folded coloured paper…just blow into the hole to fill it up. Besides, we also folded our own paper balloons and paper sampans to sail down the ditch whenever it rains.
I remember wearing 'kha kiak' at home – everyone had a pair. No thongs, please. Momma said the 'kha kiak' would mould elegant feet unlike the thongs which she believed would cause the toes to spread out. Hmmm…not dainty at all, like that. Until today, I do not feel comfortable wearing thongs…my toes hurt. And I have always kept a pair of 'kha kiak' for use at home, even now.
I remember listening to Cliff Richard and The Shadows, Elvis Presley, Robin Luke, Skeeter Davis, Ricky Nelson, Chubby Checker and many others in the 60s. My sister and her friends would play their LPs and EPs on the gramophone and they would dance the Cha-Cha, Rhumba, Jive, Twist, Rock-And-Roll and I remember seeing them doing the Limbo Rock too. And at Malay weddings in the kampong, my brother and his gang would be doing the ronggeng and joget.
Then my sister left for college and the gramophone became silent most of the time, unless poppa decided to play his favourite record or two once in the blue moon. Then a neighbour convinced momma to subscribe to Rediffusion, a sort of private radio channel which played from 6.00am till 12.00midnight 365 days a year…all for RM6 per month. Rediffusion introduced me to Mandarin and Hokkien songs and for a few years, I only followed Chinese songs. I was a bathroom singer and could sing many songs by heart.
And every few months some temples or clan associations would hold celebrations and there would be stage shows. Earlier days, it was the puppet show on a make shift wooden stage and later the singing troupe, ‘koe tai’ became popular. My friends and I were crazy over the ‘koe tai’ and each night, we would cycle on our colourful mini bikes for miles just to catch the shows. Show over and we would feast on the food sold by the roadside..’lin chi kang…lor bak…oyster porridge….kueh teow soup…laksa….muar chee…pohpiah…curry mee…**burrpp..** and then pedal home. On couple of occasions, we were stopped by the 'mata-mata' because someone rode pillion on the bicycle or if the headlights conked out. Once we were chased by stray dogs too.
Late 60s, and the inevitable happened. Development came to the kampong. All the attap houses squatting on the BIGtime landowner’s property were paid some compensation and told to leave. The bulldozers came and the old kampung houses subsequently demolished. The big hairy tarantula chiak the tiny spider……...
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