By Sarimah Othman
Kuala Lumpur: Each time Chinese New Year rolls up, I take a trip down memory lane to rekindle my childhood. The faces of my parents’ friends such as ‘Tauke’ (boss) Bak Haw and ‘Tauke’ Seng Huat, Auntie Ang Ngau and ‘Nyonya’ Tam flit through my mind.
Come Deepavali and Hari Raya, I reminisce about Auntie Azee, Auntie Shadow, Auntie Chombi, ‘Kak’ Rosnah and others who tapped rubber alongside my mother. Then there was ‘Tande’ Maniam who was the mandor or supervisor at the estate in Penang where they worked.
During Chinese New Year, my parents would return home after work with delicacies such as ‘kuih bakul’, ‘kuih bangkit’, ‘bepang’, pumpkin seeds, groundnuts and Mandarin oranges.
During Deepavali, their Indian friends would shower them with sweetmeats such as ghee balls, ‘jillebi’ and ‘ladoo’.
And, when Hari Raya comes around, my mother would pack cookies and Malay delicacies for her non-Malay friends. She and her Malay friends would also exchange trays of goodies.
My mother and her multiracial friends were close-knit and always ate together when they took a break from tapping. Break time was at 10 am and that was when they would sit together and enjoy the food they had brought from home whilst chatting with each other. Occasionally, their boisterous laughter would pierce the silence of the vast estate.
They would usually start work at 5 am and by 10 am they would have tapped about 500 rubber trees. That was when they would take a breather whilst waiting for the cups to be filled with latex.
After the break, they would busy themselves clearing the footpaths and attending to trees that needed some “tender loving care”.
Sometimes, ‘Tande’ Maniam would stop to chat with them while making his rounds. That was the daily routine of my mother and her friends.
It was in that estate that I learned to eat ‘tosei’, ‘capati’, ‘vadei’ and other Indian delicacies that were specially prepared during Deepavali.
Their friendship was not confined to their working hours for at times during weekends they would pay each other a visit. Should any of them be under the weather, the others would come by their home to see how they were doing.
My father was also a rubber tapper but he worked in a small estate owned by Bak Haw, who also had a sundry shop at the town near where we lived. We purchased all our household essentials from his shop.
My father had many Indian and Chinese friends and could even understand and string together a few simple sentences in Tamil and Hokkien.
We even had a Chinese family living in our neighbourhood. My grandmother who stayed not far from my kampung had Indian, Chinese and Siamese neighbours.
Whenever a ‘gotong-royong’ session or feast was held, all the neighbours, regardless of race and religion, would participate. The subsequent generations of these families have now moved to the bigger towns.
My parents, grandmother, relatives and neighbours were not highly educated. In fact, some of them have gone through some of the darkest moments in the history of this nation. However, they were always open-minded and never dwelled on past incidents.
All those are just memories now. My parents have passed away and some of their friends too are no more. Without me realising it, the bonds of friendship have severed and I now only have memories of the time I had spent in the company of my parents’ friends.
I too have friends of various races. In primary school, one of my closest buddies was Ah Rin who was of Siamese descent.
In secondary school, my best friend was a Chinese girl named Selina and I used to spend the night at her house quite frequently. Selina’s house was located near a Malay kampung and her Malay friends would call her Fatimah. In fact, she was Fatimah even to her brothers.
When I started working, I struck up friendships with my colleagues regardless of their race. I have worked for decades now and I have never changed my ways.
There is no line dividing me and my Malay, Chinese, Indian and Eurasian friends or those from other ethnic groups.
Come Chinese New Year, Hari Raya, Deepavali or Christmas, they would come to the office bearing gifts and delicacies.
My husband’s extended family has an interesting mix of Muslim, Christian and Hindu members.
My colleagues at work have also told me of the friendships they had forged with their multiracial friends since their school days and which still thrive to date.
We can’t imagine a life without the diversity we are now enjoying. And, it is so hard for us to even imagine boundaries separating one race from the other.
We know only too well that it is this diversity that makes Malaysia beautiful. This unique diversity is our treasure. And, it is also the strength of our nation – Malaysia. – Bernama
(This commentary expresses the personal views of the writer and does not necessarily reflect Bernama’s stand on the matter.)
