I AM ZADE: AMRI ROHAYAT

Through the Lenses of a Sister

Amri Rohayat, screen writer, director, founder of Pekan Frinjan, co-founder of Neohikayat and source of inspiration for young indie writers. I knew nothing of all that. All I knew was that he was my big brother. The only one I’ll ever had. This is the story of our adventure together, written as a tribute to who he was to me – my Abang.

LEPIH – where it all began

Abang was born on 2 October 1968 and I was born in September 1969. So literally we were only 11 months apart and we both have the same birth mark. We were both born in my grandparents’ house (known as ‘Rumah Tok’) at No. 96, Jalan Pekeliling, Kuala Lipis, Pahang. A quaint little wooden house on the slope of a small hill surrounded by fruit trees. To get to the house, one has to walk up a man-made stairs with uneven steps.

I called him ‘Abang’ (big brother) and he called me ‘Adik’ (little sister). But he’d refer himself as ‘orang’ whenever he spoke to me or to other relatives. When he spoke to my parents, he’d call himself “E”.

Mak originated from Pahang (but my great grandfather, Tok’s father, came from Sumatera). Abah came from the north. He’s been teaching in Pahang for a long time and remained in Pahang til he retired.

If you drive down to Kuala Lipis (locals mentioned it as “Lepih”) today, you’ll get to a Petronas fuel station at the junction between going to Kampung Tempoyang and going straight to Lepih town. Rumah Tok is just behind that station. It’s not visible from the road, hidden by a lush of trees. There used to be a small slaughter house just behind the station which was torn down when they started building that station. That’s where we used to get fresh supply of cow or buffalo meat, right before they were taken to the market!

Due to no other residential area nearby, we were left with no other choice but to befriend each other. Heh. No, really. He was the only friend I had until he went off to boarding school. Of course, we had our good days and bad days. You know, the usual siblings stuff.

We grew up in Rumah Tok surrounded by love, culture and happiness.

I would say that our early upbringing in Lepih has provided us with a good foundation in terms of religion, culture and multi-racial tolerance. Mak and Abah giving us the freedom to explore our surroundings with just the right degree of discipline have helped us grow up in a supportive environment.

It was a fun and active childhood because we spent most of our times outdoor.

Carefree Life

No.96, Jalan Pekeliling (photo taken in 2002)

Rumah Tok was surrounded by fruit trees. From the front yard up to the back. Next to his lot was a small rubber plantation. We knew the area very well. We’d play in the rubber plantation most of the time because it was fully shaded.

When we were being naughty, we’d pour the latex from the collecting cups and took out the dried latex from the bottom of the cups to be rolled up into a ball. Sometimes we did it just for fun. When Tok got to know about it (because the owner complained to him) we got the slash from his sash (a piece of long cloth that he’d wear across his shoulder). So we stopped pouring the latex but we’d still play in the plantation.

We’d collect the seeds and turn them into games.

There’s one game where we’d put one seed into each palm and tried to break one of the seeds by clasping our hands tightly. The winning seed was called a ‘Gurka’. Until now, I still don’t know why or how come it was called as such.

At times we’d play domestic. The seeds would become our meal. We’d place the seeds in coconut shells pretending to cook something. Abang was the Ayah and me, the Mak. Abang would go around picking leaves off my grandmother’s plants pretending that they were fish. Wan, as we called her, planted a lot of ‘puding plants’ species around the house. So we’d have many kinds of fish. Sometimes, he’d come back and said “There was no fish at the market today. Only vegetables” and I’d answer “Laaa…So what’s there to cook?” then he’d say “Cook whatever there is”. Hehe. I think we picked that up from my Tok and Wan.

Fruit season was our favourite time of the year. Tok had a lot of rambutan trees. We’d be up and down the rambutan trees picking rambutans for the elders. Tok had this special type called the ‘Gula Batu’ (rock sugar) because it was sweet and the texture looked exactly like the rock sugar. But Abang didn’t like to climb the trees. So most of the time I was the one climbing and he’d wait on the ground, while directing me to go here and there and yelling at me if I couldn’t see the rambutans which usually were hidden by the thick leaves. Then I’d throw some rambutans at him out of anger.

Tok also used to plant corns in a few places. He would make holes in the ground with a long pole, sharpened at the end like a pencil. We would then put the corn seeds in the holes and covered them up with soil. When the corns were ready for picking, there would be some with incomplete seeds. Tok said I must’ve planted those because at that time my teeth were still not complete.

Tok also had a durian orchard across Sungai Jelai, not too far from his house. When it was durian season, we would all walk down to the river. While the elders went across, we would stay at the riverside, bathing in the cool water accompanied by Kak Muna, my cousin who stayed with us. When we got older, we’d follow Tok across to help him picked durians.

We sold the durians on the roadside, just beneath Rumah Tok. Kak Muna was the head of finance so she’d set the prices and we’d call people to stop. We’d also collect rambutans, tied them up with rubber band or ropes and sold them at 20 sen. Sometimes we’d put the rambutans at ‘Kedai Panjang’ a sundry shop near Clifford School which is a walking distance away from Rumah Tok.

Our business acumen did not just revolve around selling fruits. If you’ve seen the film Seniman Bujang Lapok, there was a scene when a Chinese man came to buy used newspapers and bottles. Remember that? Well, there was this Chinese man whom we called ‘Apek’ who would come to Rumah Tok on weekly basis to purchase those kinds of things. Because the family was fond of eating rice with kicap (black soy sauce) we’d have the bottles kept so that we could sell them to the Apek. He bought the bottles for 5 sen each. We’d also rummage through the house to find used aluminium products. Once, we found an aluminium pot at the back of the kitchen and sold it to the Apek. We got 30 sen for the pot. That was gold for us! Later that night, Mak told us that Wan was still using the pot! But all was well because we used it for sale. Hahaha.

In the mornings, when we woke up early enough, we could follow Tok to town. He’d drive his Morris Minor and parked outside the rail sidings. Then we’d cross the rail tracks to the Kuala Lipis rail station. Tok would buy his Utusan Melayu from the vendor at the station. Then he’d take us to a Chinese restaurant just outside the station, for breakfast. There was a Malay man selling roti canai at that restaurant. The restaurant owner sold only drinks and toasts. Tok would order hot Milo for us, pour the Milo onto the saucers and we’d sip the Milo from the saucers. Then we’d head on to the post office where Tok would pay his bill. Afterwards we’d go to the market to buy supplies for the day.

Tok didn’t eat frozen fish. He’d buy fresh fish from local vendors and also vegetables. His favourite was red spinach. When it was cooked, the soup would turn red and we’d drink the soup as if it was syrup. Tok also reared his own chicken. Whenever he felt like having chicken for meal, he’d slaughter the chicken himself. Yeah, we hardly ate frozen food then. Probably that was why we were very healthy when we were kids.

Mak would order fresh cow milk from a Punjabi who reared his own cows in Batu 2 (second mile). Every night, the Punjabi would come to deliver the milk. Two bottles of freshly squeezed milk. Mak would heat the milk until it simmered and made us drank it before we went to bed. I hated the taste of the milk even after Mak put some sugar in it. But Abang liked it.

Kuala Atok – place of more adventures

Before we were of school age, Mak would ‘export’ us back to Kuala Atok where her elder sister resided. Mak Long as we fondly called her, was like a second mother to us. Kuala Atok was a small village in between Kuala Lipis and Raub. Pak Long, her husband, was a retiree from the Royal Malay Regiment. They tended a piece of paddy field just next to a small stream. Well, at that time I thought the stream was quite big but when I visited the place again some time ago, I realised that it was just a small stream.

We’d have the time of our lives when we were in Kuala Atok. Such freedom! We’d accompany Mak Long and Pak Long to the paddy field. Abang was brave enough to get into the field and helped them to plant. I didn’t dare go in for fear of the big fat leeches, especially when I saw blood oozing from Pak Long’s leg once when he was bitten. Ewww! So I’d just sit by the side. Mak Long gave me a task that is to pull a string which tied some empty cans together. Every time I pulled the string, the cans would knock into each other making a loud noise to scare the birds away. But most of the time I’d fallen asleep. Who wouldn’t? It was out in the open, under the shades of trees with gentle breeze blowing softly. I bet anyone would have dozed off to sleep in that condition.

When they finished working in the field, Pak Long and Mak Long would take us to the stream for a bath! The moment that we had been waiting for. But it was frustrating sometimes, when we went to the stream quite late in the evening. Then we didn’t get to spend much time splashing around. Mak Long had never allowed us to go to the stream on our own, without any adults. So we had to wait for them to complete their chores or went there with my cousins whenever they were home. If my cousins were home we could go there early in the morning and bathed until late noon. At times Mak Long had to shout for us to come home.

Gasoline lamp (photo credit: www.irjune.blogspot.com)

When it got dark, we’d watch in awe as Pak Long pumped the gasoline light. We’d shout with joy when the dark suddenly turned bright once it was lighted. Those were the days when such a simple thing could bring much joy.

When it was harvest season, we’d watch Pak Long work to split the paddy from its straw. Then Mak Long would get a few ladies from the village to help her pound the rice. They’d use two types of mortar i.e. the big one and also the small one. Harvest season turned into a feast for the villagers.

Us kids would just make ourselves busy around the elders. Sometimes they’d get us to help. Sometimes they’d just shoo us away. But I’ll tell you what, freshly pounded rice flakes tastes so good! And no, we don’t eat them with milk like corn flakes. We ate it just like that, mixed with some sugar.

Bigger and merrier feast in the village were weddings! Weddings in the village involved almost everyone from as early as two weeks before the big day. They would make all sorts of preparations together, especially cooking and setting up the ‘balai’. Balai is a makeshift cover for people to cook, usually set up at the back of the house and for guests to eat, at the front. In the olden days, the balai was set up with wooden stilts and zinc roof. At times they use tree trunks or bamboo for the stilts. Nowadays setting up balai took only just a few hours using steel pole and canvas.

However, those were merry times. You’d see how everyone from the village converged to help each other for many days and many nights just to celebrate a wedding.

For me and Abang, those times only meant that we’d have more friends to play with and more food to eat!

-to be continued-

I AM ZADE

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Wednesday 26 April 2017

AMRI ROHAYAT - Part 1

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