Friday 22 July 2011

Ramblings on...Rumah Emak Tua (My Grandmother's House) in Kampung Parit Sakai, Jalan Kereta Lembu

The 2nd of two houses; a lengthy chronicle if you wish to read.

Why "Emak Tua" (old mother)? My sister and I have only one mother - Zaharah Paiman - but we were brought up by my dad's only brother who was staying with our grandparents. I do not remember who coined it but it makes sense to call our granny "emak tua" (old mom as opposed to older mom). It did pose some problem though. People thought my dad had two wives!

The land was just over an acre but now slightly reduced (with compensation) since the Government built a slip road from the highway and broadened the road once known as Jalan Kereta Lembu. I loved this track and the ride though you will trip onto the mounds every few feet!

It sits on the intersection with Jalan Dato Kusai (formerly Jalan Kereta Lembu) and the highway with a narrow slip road to the property. Facing the lot, on the left is a piece which was left unattended for eons and on the right is our chinese neighbour "okah" (plantation owner) till now.

The land was left barren for a long time when the house was demolished. Not even the pond which my grandfather dug (a trademark of his) with his own bare hands .I planted oil palm recently after slash and burn technique. 4 rows in front and 16 deep. The last I saw the house in existence was late 90s early 2000. Zamri went a few times to meet the tenant.

It is 60 feet wide or so and the original house was built end to end and about 20 deep.

The lawn was deep and wide. There was a rectangular "kolam" (pond) measuring 15 x 20 x 10 feet deep on the left, sited 20 feet away from the house with a vertical ladder. We bathed here. Once I missed a step and almost drowned. I didn't know how to swim until I was 25. Uncle propped up, somtimes upto, three bamboo cannons here at the pond's edge - water is needed for the cannons. In this pond I stashed hundreds of fishes which I caught. When they widened the ditch it cut off the pond at an angle. No more fishes of mine - a sad occassion indeed.

There were 2 rambutan trees, a starfruit, clump of bamboos and pulasan (never tried it then) shading the pond. We were both forbidden from eating them since it was "too cold" and could cause asthma. On the right was a huge  "kuini". A bridge sat in the middle -  over a tiny drain at first - during the time when bullock carts ply the dirt track. During my years there the drain was widened twice when the road was widened and the road level increased with a form of crusher run. The "kuini" was felled to allow my uncle to park his small mazda. The pinang trees, spaced 8 feet apart acted as the boundary. These were later cut down to widen the earth drains and road. I believe there were "bunga raya" in between these.

Straight from the bridge was a porch dividing the main house from the secondary and the kitchen. A flight of 6 steps of partial semi-circular in shape leads to the main house and one step into the secondary.

The porch was wide and deep enough to house a car. It was cemented and extended to meet the kitchen. Just beside the main house and the "ceremonial steps" was a water tank with a glass opening just above a tap of sort. It measured 6x6x5 feet high since I could not climb it then. I know I bathed from it, and later when I learned of fishing I dumped "ikan betok", "seluang" and "ikan sepat" in this tank. From the window of the main house overlooking this tank I would actually spend hours "re-fishing" and letting them off again.

I remembered many a times when grandad was my barber here on the porch. Here too where tears were shed when they bade farewell to me and my sister on our infrequent journeys with our parents to Pontian. Joyful respite came yearly when uncle strung up 6 to ten feet of crackers.

The send off for my grandparents for their pilgrimage was also from here. Cousins, aunties and uncles of my father lined the steps to send them.

The most poignant was when my grandfather was brought down from the main house on his final journey. They stopped long here in this ceremonial porch to announce the almost final rites. I believed it was our "ketua kampung" (who was our neighbour in front) who announced the decree that should the decease have wronged others, forgive him; should he have debt, collect from the descendents. Each step was accompanied by the salutations to the Lord.

Another vivid memory which is impossible to erase. In the middle of this porch stood a lambretta - my grandfather's pride and joy. He told everyone that it was mine. I rode a few times on it. But, the last I saw it was in 74 on the day I received my MCE. Last I heard it was buried in a pond by dissatisfied lodger.

The cemented courtyard leading from the porch to the kitchen had a huge "jambu air. I spent many moments up the tree having my fill. Best eaten with soy sauce mixed with chilli padi and sugar. A fence from the back wall of the main house, passed this courtyard terminated at the back of the kitchen wall prevented poultry from soiling the courtyard. At the bottom of the jambu air grandmother planted chillies and a clump of lemon grass.

The main house was "deep" - 30 feet by 20 - half the width of the frontage. The furthest end was a bed space. A four poster bed in "brass" but oxidised beyond recognition. There were no doors except up from the steps. A dingy, dark space at times when the windows were shut. Here was my father's suite of slightly over half a century ago. It was at this end that my grandfather was prepared before internment.

The remaining half, nearer half, had a table fit for 8 and another similar four poster bed. When uncle was bethrothed, he occupied the main house.

The whole length and width of the house was framed with very tall windows (7ft high). Yards of plain coloured curtains were used. Once a year these we replaced strung from cables hitched to nail heads instead of the non-existent curtain track. During Eid, "marhaban" (choir praising the Almighty) would be heard here. The congregation would line the windows to enjoy the breeze - no electric fans.

There was a double door on the backwall midway between this long main house. A simple ladder lead unceremoniously to the ground leading straight to the "bangsal" or barn.

We had the pleasure of celebrating my uncle's second wedding. The generator was used to light up the whole house. The bridal suite was transformed yet again. I believed red velvet was the theme. The embroidery was crafted by a distant cousin who was - I believed - a "pondan". The house was filled by families who slept in rows on nothing but pandan mats. One vivid recollection: on the first wedding night in Gersik in the bride's home my sister and I would not let my uncle stay behind in this foreign house. After what seemed liked hours of bawling, we won. We stayed back and slept with the married couple - or did we? My mom should remember.

This was later my skating rink. I discovered two sets of roller skates in the attic. My sister and I dared not stand so we squatted. The seated will either be pushed or pulled. We left tyre marks on this unpolished timber floor.

My auntie's cousins and sister stayed in the main house a while before moving to "rumah abah".

After the departure of my grandad nobody - except uncle - dared to sleep in the main house. Upon consultation, he was told to demolish the room at the end and add another perpendicular room which ends 5 feet from the pond. This new room was the living room with glass louvres. By then we had electricity. And by then there was this empty space which was left vacant except for the foundation stones.

Below the main house (I need not bend or stoop) was where we kept "things". Dodol paddles, bamboo poles...were slotted between double joists.

The timber plank walls battened vertically were left raw at furst. Grandad smeared engine oil when he had problems with termites.

Down to the secondary house. It could house two double beds end to end with space enough for another. By that virtue it would have been at least 21 feet long. The width was enough for walking around the bed. The first bed nearest a door from the single step was for grandad. On one wall he wrote in white chalk the arabic words "ijasta" (aliph jim sim ta) and "poteh". I never did know why nor their significance.

I slept on the other bed which had a ladder leading to an attic. On this ladder was an accident which haunts me. It was at night, maybe during the month long wake, with lights blazing powered by an old monstrous generator that I fired a rocket to an aunty "Habsah". It was a fourite rocket. When fired a parachuted toy would drift down from the sky. Luckily my auntie escaped unscathed.

The attic was where I discovered treasures of old. Coins from the colonial days, japanese currency with bananas on them, medals, the roller skates, stamps, old books... The attic had one window overlooking the lawn and another on the side. It measured 15x15 or so. I did salvage some. I do not know whether I still have these or not. (Will look for them and write to you)

At the bottom of the ladder is a short annex with one door to the garage which housed my uncle's mazda and triumph motorcycle. I "learned" to steer and changed the gear in this car. I don't remember him ever washing his car. The other leads to the kitchen complex. On the left of this annex is another water tank measuring 6x4x5 (hence the annexe is 4 feet wide and 4 feet long).

The kitchen was in three parts. The preparation and dining at grade level, the raised platform and the cooking place at the rear.

The preparation area had the tank (with the ubiquotous glass and tap of sorts) and drainage under the annexe into the ditch. Grandmother spent her time cleaning fish and poultry here whilst pounding or rolling on stone mill. It was here that I saw her suffering from the "sengat ikan sembilang" - catfish. Uncle loved this menu of "assam pedas" whilst I adored the eggs. Eversince then I swore I would never have a bite. To this day I abstained from this specie and that of fresh water fishes.

The tank, main source of water was later emptied to be used as a shower room once piped drinking water was made available.

There was a door to the courtyard on the left. A circular marble table with chairs for 4 and two airing cupboards. A window opens on to the courtyard where she literally picked the chillies from.

Then the door into the cooking area which was at grade too.

A cooking top with 4 inch sides of wood raised 4 feet from grade. Below the top was the place for firewood. I don't remember how many dishes she can cook at any one time - I think 3. The ashes will be cover the top held in by the 4 inch sides. I recalled that she would scoop the thick ashes and used some for the chillies. Many delicious meals were boiled, fried or braised on this earthen stove. Perhaps the smell of smoke or the ashes were the eSsential ingredients missing from our present menus. Certainly it was the long drawn preparation that gave the dishes the excellent taste - from the gathering of firewood, to lighting up, ensuring an even flame... Rice, as I learned to boil it, had its problems. Close the lid just seconds before it boils over, then just before it dries up leave the ambers only close the lid and weigh the lid down. Timing!

The other raised half! Full of history as well. It is a vast expanse measuring 15 wide and 20 feet or more deep. Sometimes we had dinner here. But its mostly for siesta. The whole stretch of windows opens over the ditch. This ditch was one source of fish for my bait of earthworms.

On this platform my grandparents would sit and chat with other womenfolk and her sisters. On this platform too I picked up Javanese without being asked.

My first cousin had a swing slung from the ceiling joist. We would take turns. On one occassion, it was my grandad's turn. He was playing with her in her swing of "kain pelekat" when he declared "something smells fishy". Thinking that it could be dead fish which I caught, he started searching with - of all things - his nose. To his dismay it was my cousin's poop on his nose. On another note, my grandad was frantically looking for his smokong pipe everywhere only to be told that it was stuck between his teeth. Frustrated, he picked up an axe and that was the end of it.

My sibling and I spent days during school holidays recovering from asthma here. The proximity to the kitchen - where my grandmother spent most of her life satisfying our hunger - was the main reason.

Another very poignant moment was tha parting of uncle's first wife. She was very young. Suffered from breast cancer. My grandparents would have nothing to do with hospital medicine so they stole her from her ward and brought home. A mattress of "kekabu" (similar to cotton but grows on huge trees) lined her deathbed. I know not how long she suffered. The timber slats for the platform were removed to be used as bedpan. My only memory was of her lying there motionless with her eyelids covered with coins.

In the backyard, behind the main house, was a barn for the generator and we cooked during festivities. To the left was a pond filled with "nipah" (sago plant). Behind it was the rubber processing plant. Water from this facility would collect in this pond. We had two presses ("beris getah" as it was pronounced): one provides coorugation after passing the first which was a flattener.

Behind the cooking area was the outhouse. This was just two planks over a ditch which acts our border with "okah" the chinese neighbour. There were nipah leave walls on all sides enough to hide our modesty.

On the way to the outhouse would be a lime or lemon tree. Green round fruit. Probably satsumas. Best pressed and mixed with sugar. I spent, at one time, hours in the toilet since I ate a mountain load. Parallel to it, beside the ditch was a slanting old "rambai" tree. Another favourite fruit that caused me hours in the outhouse

Just after this tree and before the outhouse was the chicken coup.

Beyond the outhouse were the rubber trees. Halfway to the end, a ditch was dug as a form of irrigation measures. I was told that the durian trees which I foolishly felled were planted 2 generations before my grandad. I spent nights with uncle accompanied by screaming mosquitoes waiting for the king to drop. We had a simple hut then. We lit up the night with fire stack and threw crackers to fend off purported tigers (I saw or heard none).

This magnificently long house was covered with woven nipah attap until the advent of zinc. No ceiling until the arrival of asbestos sheets.

A lengthy essay - from the morning to sunset - using only my thumb to type.

If I had erred or missed my sibling should correct me.

I would love to build a model of this "rumah emak tua" and that of "rumah abah" as was requested by my cousin. Time will tell.

Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device via Vodafone-Celcom Mobile.

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