 |
| Mum & dad [seated] with mum's sisters and their spouses at the banquet for Felicia's wedding on November 15 |
Christmas
is a time for traditions, family reunions and lots of shopping for the perfect
gift for our dear ones. This year, I
kept to my tradition of shopping for suitable gifts from as early as August
when I was abroad and all through the months before December so that there will
not be a mad rush for gift shopping at the last minute. Presenting beautifully wrapped gifts is also
part of the fun so I made sure all the packages are nicely wrapped and tied up
with ribbons by the eve of Christmas Day.
Even
though giving and receiving nicely packaged gifts is part of the Christmas
tradition, I know that some gifts need not be gift-wrapped. I’m sharing this story because I believe this
was the best gift I could present to my dad this Christmas.
 |
| Entrance to the clinic at Tiram Duku, near Gelang Patah |
Dad’s
health was unstable since his 92nd birthday in late October and by God’s
grace, he made a gradual recovery to be strong enough to enjoy a lovely family
reunion at our cousin Felicia’s wedding on November 15. Needless to say, I was simply delighted to see
him get back to his usual self.
However
in late November, his emotional health took a steep downturn because he was
naturally affected by the sad news of three funerals for senior members of the
extended family, all in the span of two weeks. Then he started to talk to me about his own
funeral wake.
One
day, dad asked me how far is Gelang Patah from JB? I told him that it’s now just a few minutes
by the Kota Iskandar highway. This
question hinted of his desire to visit the district where he once worked with
the Government dispensary there. In 2009 I shared with readers about this dispensary in Gelang Patah with photos of the
building as well as the inspiration for travel writing in my story, "Travelling" with Dad.
 |
| The signage pointing to Kampung Pok with Kampung Paya Mengkuang listed below! |
While
I’m aware of dad’s desire to visit Gelang Patah again, I deliberately asked him
why he wanted to go there. He replied simply,
“To visit an old lady.” This stirred my
curiosity because I have not heard about such a lady before. Dad seemed slow to answer when I quizzed him
so my mum suggested with a smile, “His girlfriend…”
Dad
told me to look into our telephone directory for Anuar Ahmad and the contact
number given to him when he met them at Plaza Angsana several years ago. I found a landline number and wrote it in big
bold digits on our notice board so that dad may call them later. There was no address listed there. Privately, I was concerned that if this Anuar
(I thought it was that lady’s son but it’s actually the name of her late
husband!) may have passed on – and that lady too – this revelation would be too
depressing for dad.
 |
| Kak Hasnah riding the motorcycle, leaving her warung to lead the way! |
I
assured dad that I have arranged with our elder sister to go to Gelang Patah
for a drive that coming Sunday just to see the place and its development, even
if we failed to locate Anuar and his family because we do not have a proper address. I know I sounded like a wet blanket but I
tried not to build up too much anticipation to cushion dad for a possible
letdown.
In the next
few days, I managed to dig out a few more details from dad about this old lady.
Her name is Wok and when dad was working
with the Government dispensary in Gelang Patah, our grandfather or Ah Kong, was
based in the Gelang Patah Land Office where this lady was the gardener. Dad used to prescribe and supply her with
vitamins as health supplements because she was often sick. They were good friends and every year for Hari
Raya, mum and dad used to visit her family in their home in Kampung Paya
Mengkuang. After Gelang Patah, dad was
transferred to Masai for the next 13 years and over time he lost touch with
them until that chance meeting in Plaza Angsana when they gave him their home
phone number.
 |
| Kak Hasnah riding the motorcycle to show us the way! |
I went
to an event in Kampung Pok recently and when I told dad about it, the name must
have triggered thoughts about revisiting that familiar area where Kampung Paya
Mengkuang was also located. He probably
thought that I know how to get there but I must confess that it was more than
Waze technology that got me there and back.
While we
set out that Sunday morning with much anticipation, I gently reminded dad that
we will enjoy the drive and try to locate that kampong again because with so
much development, the entire landscape has now changed beyond recognition. Before leaving, we tried to call that given
telephone number but it was no longer in service. I reasoned that with the widespread use of
mobile phones, most people have given up their landlines. The weather was bright and sunny but our next
disappointment was to discover that the building for the Government dispensary
has been demolished!
 |
| Kak Hasnah speaking to Kak Tom, eldest daughter of Mak Wok to learn the she was with her youngest daughter |
We took
a slow drive around the nearby roads to be sure and finally had to accept the
fact that we did not miss it but it was just no longer there. We were quite sure it used to be behind the
Shell station and now the area is occupied by new rows of small shops.
Then we
headed in the opposite direction to locate Kampung Paya Mengkuang. I could sense that dad was getting impatient
and restless because the area looked too different since the time he was
working in Gelang Patah and I tried to pacify him with reassurances that I will
somehow track down that destination.
We
scrutinized every passing signboard to get an idea of our location because the
Waze and Google maps that my sister was reading, did not give much help. Finally, dad mentioned Tiram Duku, the name
of another nearby village and this info helped to give us an indication that we
were in the right area. Dad wanted me to
stop to ask the warung operators but
I preferred to seek help from the any Police station.
 |
| Kak Hasnah leading us to the home of Rosidah, youngest daughter of Mak Wok |
When I
spotted the sign for Kelinik Desa Tiram Duku, I stopped the car because I felt
that the nursing staff here should have a good idea of the area. (I’m familiar with such clinics because our
parents were working with the Health Sub-Centre in Masai.) Dad attempted to get down from the car too
but I stopped him because I was just going to pop in to ask for
directions. This proved how keen he was
to find some answers!
Imagine
all the patients turning and their eyes riveted on me when I walked into the
clinic. All of them were heavily
pregnant women queuing up to be weighed and I paused for a moment because there
was no nurse in sight. In a bit, she
came out and I spoke to the nurse in Malay to ask for directions. The nurse gave me some directions and as I
asked questions to clarify what she told me, one of the patients spoke up in
English to give me similar but clearer directions. I realised that we passed that particular
junction she was referring to and thanked them before hopping back into the
car, quite confident that we were heading the right way.
 |
| Dad meeting Mak Wok again! |
I
turned the car around and drove into that junction and we suddenly spotted the
sign for Kampung Pok with other villages listed below including the elusive
Kampung Paya Mengkuang!
Mum was
quite sure that Makcik Wok’s house should be on the left side of the road, just
a short distance away so I stopped and walked around a house that had many cars
parked outside but all doors and windows were shut. I shouted, “Hello!” repeatedly but not a soul
responded. Then I went across the road
and asked a lady about the occupants of the house opposite and learnt that it
was rented to several tenants. This explained
why there were many cars parked outside as the tenants may be asleep or have
gone to work.
 |
| Dad and Mak Wok had plenty to reminisce on ... |
Mum was
still adamant that Mak Wok’s house was situated nearby so I asked mum to come
with me to ask a warung or food-stall
operator there. A few customers were
eating her food when we approached and asked for help to locate Mak Wok. The recognition of that name was instant
among customers, the stall-holder and other bystanders who know her but someone
pointed out that there was more than one Mak Wok in that kampung!
That
was when I discovered that Anuar was Mak Wok’s late husband. By mentioning Anuar, they realised that we
were after the Mak Wok wife of Anuar and not the other one. They know that Mak Wok Anuar lived with her
eldest daughter but also goes to her younger daughter’s home located
nearby. The helpful stall-holder, whom
we later learnt is Kak Hasnah, asked a young man there to help lead us to Mak
Wok’s house but (just as I suspected, the younger generation are not familiar
with who the elderly are) he was reluctant to do so.
While
Kak Hasnah was giving instructions to that young man, I was just glad to know
that Mak Wok was still alive. I was
deeply grateful that our quest to find Mak Wok for dad was going to be
fulfilled – and that was the most important thing!
 |
| Rubiah pouring tea for us to enjoy with snack of freshly fried tapioca |
So I
got behind the wheel again to wait for the young man to lead the way on his
motorcycle, relieved that I could tell dad that we were so close to finding Mak
Wok. As I watched the exchange between
Kak Hasnah and that young man, I realised that she was not getting through to
him. So instead of haggling with him, I
watched him get off the motorcycle and she hopped on the bike to lead us!
So with
her tudung flapping in the wind, Kak
Hasnah rode ahead and I followed at a safe distance. She stopped at the home of Mak Wok’s eldest
daughter, Kak Tom, and we learnt that Mak Wok was not there but in the home of
her youngest daughter, Rosidah. I said
“Hello” to Kak Tom and asked her to give a call to let them know that we are
heading over to meet Mak Wok – so that she would not get too much of a shock!
It was
easy for villagers to figure out what “across the road” or “dekat selekoh” [near the bend on the
road!] means but as Kak Hasnah hopped on the bike again to lead us on, it was
quite a distance away before we turned into a dirt track to see a few houses
built in the clearing. She wound her way
around the overhanging branches of a tree, bumped along the path to the house
in the middle, with its entrance facing away from us and beckoned me to
follow. Finally, finally we found our
way to meet with Mak Wok at Kampung Paya Mengkuang!
 |
| Mak Wok, dad and mum [seated Left to Right] with Rosidah [Left] and Rubiah [Right] |
Mak Wok
was seated on a plastic reclining chair in the porch, her knees too weak to
stand up, and when I brought dad close enough to greet her, she happily
declared, “Alhamdulillah!” [Arabic for: All praise and thanks to God!] While her legs may be weak, her voice and
attitude was strong as she recognised mum and dad instantly. Two of Mak Wok’s daughters there, the fifth
Rubiah and youngest Rosidah, were also thrilled to see us. They told us how uncanny it was that we
turned up in such a timely way because just last night, their mother mentioned
dad’s name!
“Dia selalu sebut nama uncle,” Rubiah
told us, adding that dad was one of three people their mother often mentioned
and longed to meet again. And dad was
the only one who turned up so far. Over
sweet black tea and freshly fried chunks of tapioca from their own garden, dad
and Mak Wok reminisced about the good old days and reconnected again.
At age
85, Mak Wok, a mother of five daughters and four sons, is enjoying her
retirement in the company of her children and grandchildren. This Christmas, I know that reconnecting dad
with Mak Wok again, is the best gift I can present to him. Blessed Christmas, dad!
/pl
