A new home, a new different world

When I was six, my dad bought a piece of land somewhere closer to the center of the village and bought a second hand plank from Singapore to build a house on that land. I knew that they were overjoyed as it was my dad’s and mom’s hard earned money. As a small kid, I didn’t really know what difference will it make. Only a little excited, that we’re going to move to a bigger house with rambutan orchard across the street and lots of other houses nearby. At the same time, I was a little sad and nervous.

Sad because this mean I had to leave my old playground. A very big ‘Jambu Bol’ trees that my brother tied a rope at one of the branch where I used to climb and swung myself while pretending that I’m a tarzan, a wooden bridge that cross a canal that water the paddy field where I used to fish, using a bamboo twigs that my brother made for me. And until now, I remember vividly how I will throw away that fishing rod whenever my bait was caught by an eel rather than fish. I would scream my heart out and ran away when I snatched the rod and find that creature on my hook. I don’t know why, until now snakes and eels, really scares me. My brother grumbled a big deal every time this happened because that means he has to do another one for me. I was nervous too when I think that there will be a lot more other people. Will I be able to find my own secret kingdom and play without them seeing me?

After two months of hard-work, the house was almost completed. Only that they didn’t have enough plank for a wall for the kitchen. So, they decided to use the plank in the house that we stayed at that moment. My eldest brother had to demolish the wall in one of the bedroom where I was sleeping, two nights before we’re scheduled to move to our new home. At dawn, my dad will light a camp fire beside the broken wall of my bedroom to chase away mosquitoes and any other insects. And for that two nights me and my sister almost didn’t sleep but keep on talking and giggling all through the night while thinking that we’re camping out in the woods.

That very day came, I sat on my dad’s motorbike and he brought us to our new home and that was in the middle of 1980’s.

Putih - 1978

I was a very shy little boy. The sight of strangers will only drawn me to the back of the nearest family member. Probably living quite far from the rest of the villagers made me feel inferior or maybe I’m lack of curiosity.. My house to the nearest neighbour is about half a mile. So, it’s hardly anyone else beside my family that I see, and our house is the 2nd last house of the village and it’s not the road that people pass by everyday. I guess, that could be a contributing factor of this little shyness that I possessed.

I don’t have any friend as a little boy, and funny enough I don’t have any imaginary friends too. The only friend that I had was a billy goat that was as huge as a calf. Who only listened to me and my parents but keep chasing, kicked and butted the rest of my siblings around the house whenever he was escaped from his rope. I called him ‘Putih’ (White), because unlike any other goats, he had quite a delicate and almost white fur. I used to ride him round the house and the nearest bushes during the day, and as a token folded my legs and let him butt my kneecap with his head as a gesture that we’re playing. I loved putih very much that most of my time was spent with him. I would sometimes bring my food on the plate and eat beside him while he was busy gnawing on the grass (probably thinking that we’re having a nice conversation while having our meal).

Putih became very fierce after some times that the sight of anyone else beside us (me and my parents), will only make him wanted to butt them. This has worried my parents and after much thought, they decided to sell him off to one Pak Haji who wanted to do ‘Aqiqah’. I was histerical when the news came and for the next few days, I rode him till I fell asleep on his back for several hours, only to wake up and wept again, knowing that we’ll have to depart very soon. And strangely enough, Putih became less aggressive and most of the time will be beside the staircase where I was sitting, looking blankly at the road infront of the house.

The day came.. Pak Haji came with a lorry to transport Putih .. and again I was more than histerical when I saw him tugged the rope and Putih didn’t even struggle. I thought I hated Putih for a while for wanted to leave me that he didn’t make any effort to escape. Then I saw a glint of tears at his eyes and immediately knew that he was sad too. When the lorry drove off, I chased it for a few yards then fell on my knees and wept for the lost I can’t replace...

Then.. the 1970's

I was born in a small village and spent my early years in a two rooms wooden house very near to a paddy field. My mom work as a rubber tapper and my dad was an overseer in a company called Malacca Oil Palm Plantation. We may not be rich, in-fact we're poor, but the love that was given to us by our mom and dad could surpass any luxury the world could offer. I felt richer.. and happy; that at times when I looked back.. I always cried to realise how lucky I am.

We have a beautiful small house, surrounded by a lot of trees and some bougenvillae that my mom planted whenever she got time to do that. Across the street facing to our house, there are bamboo trees that often gave me both beautiful sight and eerie feelings. I always like the smell of it after rain and in the morning and the sight of a rain or dew drops on their leaves. I couldn't explain quite how, but I felt at ease whenever I looked at it.

At the back of the house, there's a well that we use for bathing and washing. It often reminded me of how fun it was, throwing the pail in the well and pull it up, felt the water splash on my chest and feet, the clattering teeth and shivering body from it's coldness. On some days we even had fish that got into the pail; that my brother will catch and put them in the 'tempayan' with all other fishes that were caught before.

On most weekends, when my sister and brother was not schooling, we will spent the morning at the well washing our clothes, especially their school uniforms, school shoes etc, My sister will do the washing, my brother will pick the water and I will stay in the basin, playing with the water while pretending that I'm swimming in a pond or a lake with my brother every now and then will pour the water from the pail onto my head.