Uncle Sam
My 3rd uncle was a very humble man. He was independent and carefree, and always had a smile and a good take on any situation. Sometimes he smoked one too many cigarettes, but his life was one of simplicity and unpretentiousness. He knew the simple pleasures in life, though trips to Genting may not be a down-to-earth enjoyment. Life was never really good to him, if you were to analyse his life, but he definitely made the most of it and faced it with admirable positivity and practicality.
He used to work in the Meteorological Department, and had an impeccable command of the English language. Compared to most of his family members of his generation, his English was definitely the most techinically astute. Being a Chinese in government service did not really hamper his job development, and he was at a rather high position when he retired. He was entitled to a state pension and even though he was not rich, could lead a comfortable little life of his own doing all the things he loved. Unfortunately, besides smoking, he also liked to eat all the oily and unhealthy food, maybe too unbridled. His job used to take him on excursions deep into remote places and the like, often having to journey deep into forests to reach meteorological stations. As such, he was a man made for the wild. He could go camp and rough it out in the jungles for days on end, and return with a bounty of river fish or forest fruits.
Many years ago, he took me to a small lake behind a famous restaurant in Petaling Jaya. That was a rather filthy and unkempt place, at least to a clean-loving me at that time. I think my brother was around too. I remember he caught some white fish which he said would not last very long, and 2 shrimps too. There was one special fish and it was the soon hock. He said that it was a delicacy and maybe after 5 or 6 years it would grow to a size that the restaurant would need. 1994, I think. I left that solitary fish (the rest died quite soon after) in a large Horlicks jar and when I left KL for Singapore, (start of school…. ugh…) I made sure my dad would help me feed it and change the water every so often. Unfortunately, my dad had to leave his workplace for an extended trip once and as there would not be anyone to tend to it, he “poured it into the drain outside the house”. But the soon hock is a hardy fish, as my uncle says, and I never once doubted that that little soon hock of mine would survive. It had lasted at least 2 months in “custody” anyway…
2003. I had gone back to KL for a Dip in Telecommunications and Electronic Engineering with an exchange to Deakin University (Electronics) at KDU College. After a semester of pure bliss (and endless mamak sessions a few humid nights a week), I accepted Leicester’s offer and withdrew from my course. That was when 3rd Uncle (or Uncle Sam* as I refer to him in jest when I talk to my mum) asked me if I wanted to join him on a little fishing trip on the not-so-high part of Bukit Tinggi (opposite the famed Genting Highlands). I was wallowing around in KL at that time tying up some administrative loose ends and bidding my slow farewell to a land I had originated from but left very early in life. This very brief sojourn, as it turned out, would only last 5 months. Sometimes I wonder when I would have another long rendezvous with my beloved capital city and its outskirts. He drove me to Bukit Tinggi and he went up some highland roads, into small kampung vicinities, and stopped along a river at a point which he considered favourable for fishing. He had with him 2 fishing rods and a large net (with a tiny hole.. oops!) and we went about setting up. I never once touched the earthworms he dug up (self service okay….) and he helped me poke it with the large curved hook. This was my first proper fishing outing, with the rod. All 19 years of me. We were left high and dry (don’t mind the pun) as the fish did not take the baits. The water was so clear they could see us, Uncle Sam explained, and their reactions were faster than our hands’, even with that net-with-a-small-hole. We packed up and left in pursuit of a better place further upstream, and found it at a side road somewhere higher up in the kampung-land. There, the water was fast-flowing and gushed past rocks. I hopped about on those rocks looking for a good footing and a good seat to rest my butt on while waiting for the fish to take my bait. It helped that the splashes of the water prevented the fish from seeing this potential enemy, and for once, I felt a tug on my fishing line. I reeled the fish in, and hey presto! It was a white little fish with faint multi-colour sides, and it was a lively one at that. Fresh. Haha. We didn’t have very good business that day, and returned with only around 5 fishes for addition into his rather new aquarium. But it sure felt good to be able to personally source for your own fish collection, free!
Food alond the way was cheap, and the milo-peng** fantastic after being exposed to the elements for a few hours. We then went to a pasar malam at Sunway at night to source for some great nasi lemak before he dropped me off at Taman Bahagia LRT station to take the 50 sen Putra bus ride back to Number 27 Jalan DJ22/4, my large and bloody stuffy room. The ceiling fan could spin at number 5 (maximum) and you could still feel hot air descending upon your bare sweating chest at night.
That reminds me of the time around April when it was 清明节… Uncle Sam took me on my first time 扫-ing墓, all the way up in Ipoh. I stayed at a cousin’s place and had a great weekend dining on cheap 怡堡鸡丝沙河粉 and I think prawn mee. Even the wantans were like 16 for 3 ringgit or something like that!! I will return, someday. The entire ChingMing festival was an eye-opener for me, and I finally took in the life my Mum used to do every year. And I actually clocked a few hours in a cemetery (another first). Relaxation and discovery, what a good trip. He even took the old country roads, which I love to bits!
How fitting was Uncle Sam to introduce me to this. But then nowadays a lot of people are cremated instead of buried, so perhaps this will be even less of a significance to my children in future.
*pronounced similarly as “wham”
** iced Milo! Ahhh.. missing it now…
He used to work in the Meteorological Department, and had an impeccable command of the English language. Compared to most of his family members of his generation, his English was definitely the most techinically astute. Being a Chinese in government service did not really hamper his job development, and he was at a rather high position when he retired. He was entitled to a state pension and even though he was not rich, could lead a comfortable little life of his own doing all the things he loved. Unfortunately, besides smoking, he also liked to eat all the oily and unhealthy food, maybe too unbridled. His job used to take him on excursions deep into remote places and the like, often having to journey deep into forests to reach meteorological stations. As such, he was a man made for the wild. He could go camp and rough it out in the jungles for days on end, and return with a bounty of river fish or forest fruits.
Many years ago, he took me to a small lake behind a famous restaurant in Petaling Jaya. That was a rather filthy and unkempt place, at least to a clean-loving me at that time. I think my brother was around too. I remember he caught some white fish which he said would not last very long, and 2 shrimps too. There was one special fish and it was the soon hock. He said that it was a delicacy and maybe after 5 or 6 years it would grow to a size that the restaurant would need. 1994, I think. I left that solitary fish (the rest died quite soon after) in a large Horlicks jar and when I left KL for Singapore, (start of school…. ugh…) I made sure my dad would help me feed it and change the water every so often. Unfortunately, my dad had to leave his workplace for an extended trip once and as there would not be anyone to tend to it, he “poured it into the drain outside the house”. But the soon hock is a hardy fish, as my uncle says, and I never once doubted that that little soon hock of mine would survive. It had lasted at least 2 months in “custody” anyway…
2003. I had gone back to KL for a Dip in Telecommunications and Electronic Engineering with an exchange to Deakin University (Electronics) at KDU College. After a semester of pure bliss (and endless mamak sessions a few humid nights a week), I accepted Leicester’s offer and withdrew from my course. That was when 3rd Uncle (or Uncle Sam* as I refer to him in jest when I talk to my mum) asked me if I wanted to join him on a little fishing trip on the not-so-high part of Bukit Tinggi (opposite the famed Genting Highlands). I was wallowing around in KL at that time tying up some administrative loose ends and bidding my slow farewell to a land I had originated from but left very early in life. This very brief sojourn, as it turned out, would only last 5 months. Sometimes I wonder when I would have another long rendezvous with my beloved capital city and its outskirts. He drove me to Bukit Tinggi and he went up some highland roads, into small kampung vicinities, and stopped along a river at a point which he considered favourable for fishing. He had with him 2 fishing rods and a large net (with a tiny hole.. oops!) and we went about setting up. I never once touched the earthworms he dug up (self service okay….) and he helped me poke it with the large curved hook. This was my first proper fishing outing, with the rod. All 19 years of me. We were left high and dry (don’t mind the pun) as the fish did not take the baits. The water was so clear they could see us, Uncle Sam explained, and their reactions were faster than our hands’, even with that net-with-a-small-hole. We packed up and left in pursuit of a better place further upstream, and found it at a side road somewhere higher up in the kampung-land. There, the water was fast-flowing and gushed past rocks. I hopped about on those rocks looking for a good footing and a good seat to rest my butt on while waiting for the fish to take my bait. It helped that the splashes of the water prevented the fish from seeing this potential enemy, and for once, I felt a tug on my fishing line. I reeled the fish in, and hey presto! It was a white little fish with faint multi-colour sides, and it was a lively one at that. Fresh. Haha. We didn’t have very good business that day, and returned with only around 5 fishes for addition into his rather new aquarium. But it sure felt good to be able to personally source for your own fish collection, free!
Food alond the way was cheap, and the milo-peng** fantastic after being exposed to the elements for a few hours. We then went to a pasar malam at Sunway at night to source for some great nasi lemak before he dropped me off at Taman Bahagia LRT station to take the 50 sen Putra bus ride back to Number 27 Jalan DJ22/4, my large and bloody stuffy room. The ceiling fan could spin at number 5 (maximum) and you could still feel hot air descending upon your bare sweating chest at night.
That reminds me of the time around April when it was 清明节… Uncle Sam took me on my first time 扫-ing墓, all the way up in Ipoh. I stayed at a cousin’s place and had a great weekend dining on cheap 怡堡鸡丝沙河粉 and I think prawn mee. Even the wantans were like 16 for 3 ringgit or something like that!! I will return, someday. The entire ChingMing festival was an eye-opener for me, and I finally took in the life my Mum used to do every year. And I actually clocked a few hours in a cemetery (another first). Relaxation and discovery, what a good trip. He even took the old country roads, which I love to bits!
How fitting was Uncle Sam to introduce me to this. But then nowadays a lot of people are cremated instead of buried, so perhaps this will be even less of a significance to my children in future.
*pronounced similarly as “wham”
** iced Milo! Ahhh.. missing it now…
posted by cheez~ at
12:20 pm
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home