I didn't plan to write this entry, but what the heck, respect should come both ways. Some old folks think they can get away by embarassing, humilating and disrespectful to the younger generation. They expect the young people to respect them just because 'I'm older than you' mentality but at the same time they choose to ignore the rules they make.
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Two months after my mother's death in November 2004, I made a long list of all my mother's siblings and relatives who were at her funeral. My sister KN and my baby brother's PaU put together their names and addresses or phone numbers and e-mailed it to me. I divided the names into two groups. Names with their addresses and names with their phone numbers.
I went out and bought a few dozen blank cards, wrote thank you notes and mailed them. It was easy, but nobody ever told me making two or three phone calls in one day to thank your relatives who live twelve hours ahead of local time was emotionally exhausting. My first call to my cousin Abang Dan in Sungai Petani lasted 40 minutes. He passed the phone to his wife, a soft spoken Kak Seha. She wanted to know if I ate hamburger and hot dog everyday? Don't I miss sambal belacan?
"No, Kak Seha, I don't eat hamburgers and hot dogs. As a matter of fact I never had a hamburger or a hot dog since I've been here."
"Huh?....Hang tak makan hamburger, habih tu hang makan apa?" -You don't eat hamburger? So, what do you eat?
"I eat different types of food, but I cook Malaysian dishes every week."
"Ohhh...betui ka? Pasai apa hang tak masak haghi-haghi? Aku masak haghi-haghi hang tau ka. Abang Dan hang bukan nya nak makan gulai semalam. Mana hang dapat ghempah ghatus? - Ohh really? Why don't you cook everyday? I cook everyday you know. Abang Dan (referred to her husband) doesn't eat a day old curry. Where do you get all the ingredients? I kicked my socks under the coffee table and took a deep breath.
"There are many Asian stores which carry Indonesian, Cambodian, Vietnamese, Phillipines and Indian products and......"
"Really? So you have no difficulty to prepare our food?"
"Not at all."
When she stopped to breathe, I told her I have to hang up. I have more names to call.
The second call was quick and smooth.
"No, Mom isn't home. She is at Kak Lela's house. She's having a baby."
I told her I wanted to thanked her parents and asked her to give my regards to them.
The third call answered by a young man. He was my second cousin, the sixth son of Abang Malik, one of my many cousins whom I met when were in the late 20's. He must be in an elementary school when the last time I visited his family.
I introduced myself and told him the reason I called his parents. He didn't believed me I called from Boston.
"Boston kat U.S kah? Ellehhh......Ulu Selangor kut." He laughed at his joke.
"Ulu Selangor pun Ulu Selangor lah, please tell your parents I said thank you. Assalamualaikum."
The next five months I made 24 short, very short and medium length calls. I treasured and enjoyed some of the chats I had with Mak Teh, Mak Long, Tok Lang, Tok Ngah, Pak Ndak, Pak Itam, Mak Uteh, and all the names I couldn't remember, but a few of them I wished I never made.
The last call was to one of my mother's younger brothers who has been living in Singapore for more than fourty-five years. He wasn't home when I called, but his wife was. I met her a few times when I was working in Bukit Timah many years ago.
Before I even finished my well rehearsed thank you speech, she shot me with series of questions. Pop..pop...pop...pop...pop...pop..pop...like kernels popped in popcorn popper.
- Why can't you live here (Malaysia)?
- Why do you want to live so far away?
- Is your husband White or Malay? Laki kau orang ape?
- What do you do? Ape kau buat kat sane?
- How much do you make? Banyak mane gaji kau?
- How much does your husband make? Banyak ke gaji laki kau?
- How many children do you have?
- How much do you make a month?
- What does your husband do?
- Why don't you have a child?
- Who's going to take care of you when you're old?
- Do you and your husband make a lot of money?
She asked me all twelve questions without giving me a chance to answer none of it until she got to number twelve.
Out of respect I answered her first four questions. And for the rest of her fuckup mentality questions, I told her in respectful manner the only person I answered those questions was my mother. It took her for a few seconds to absorb the shock. It was a long ackward moment. Finally, I repeated my heartful thank and wished her and her husband a blessed trip to Mecca which would take place in three weeks. The were leaving on the first Hajj flight from Changi Airport.
After I hung up, it occured to me that while I was listening to my Singaporean uncle's wife interrogated me over the phone I kept hearing the sound of a sucking noise coming from her. It was the kind of noise you make when you eat an ice cream Malaysia. I wonder if she was still having those lips blisters that she used to have fifteen or sixteen years ago.
I called my sister KN and asked her about it. Yes, KN said, she still has it.
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