JAKARTA FAMILY

LOVE BINDS

Nazhan and his lovely bride, Nurhidayah

Mum looking as preety as ever

With Cikgu Zaharah Salleh

With Tante from Jakarta

Kak Warni, Abang Amir and Cikgu Zaharah Salleh

The Men In Batik

Immortalising the moment of meeting up together

With my cousins Sap, Lin, Janah and Ratna

We met with Abang Amir and Kak Warni again during a wedding invitation. We stayed over at their house during our last December trip to Jakarta. It was where I first tasted ketoprak and bubur ayam. We owe our gratitude to them for the warm hospitality showered upon us. We were glad to meet up with them again during the wedding invitation of Cik Mamad.

The couple looking their best with the bridesmaids

A family of gathering from Jakarta and Singapore

Thanks for your hospitality while were in Jakarta

When will we meet again Erda?

Ramon Rahmat, a singer and actor in the 1960s

Haji Osman Zailani, a veteran actor of many Malay dramas

Linda and soldier boy Fairuz

We can only learn to love by loving

BLACK AND WHITE

The prized black and white TV behind us.

L-R: Maz, Gayah, Jab, Me and Lina. See how we posed on the sofa.

My uncles, cousins and siblings in the stilt house

My youngest uncle's wedding. Maz and Lina were the bridesmaid.

The huge compund of the house. Everywhere was a playground

GROWING UP

Remembering the past can be painful. You can't buy the lost time nor can you bring it forward. One of my wonderful chapters growing up was having my siblings and cousins all cooped up in our huge grandma's rumah panggung or stilt house. We would tell ghost stories and traded the daily events from each other's experiences.

My childhood was free and I was like the wild child of my dreams. I created my own fun, built friendship and immersed myself in the kampung setting. You would never find me hibernating and keeping still at one corner. I would be a butterfly, flitting from one place to another and hiding myself among the sunflowers or the rows and rows of tapiaco plants on the hill slope.

There were so many things to occupy myself that I dreaded the evening sun. It meant that I had to report back home to granny and have a shower. No more going out after dusk or the hantu gulung, orang minyak or the pontianak would hide you. Tell that creepy and eerie warning to a nine year old and nothing would ever drag me after dusk from the house. You know why? The stilt house was surrounded by giant trees and the next neighbour was about 60 metres away. It could be spooky at night with no street lights. My grandma's house would be a perfect set for filming one of those haunted stories for The Incredible Tales.

However, life was less complicated back then. We survived with very little money and anything and everything could offer us simple pleasures and loud guffaws. When I say I enjoy my life back then, I really meant it... with an OOOMPH!

FAMILYHOOD & LOVE

MAZ HOLIDAY

Bali, Hanoi and Sapa were part of her itinerary while Singapore was her base. Maz and her two children, Ema and Zac, spent almost a month on her recent holiday but she was jet setting everywhere. We barely squeezed two weeks together from her 32 days of vacation before the whole family flew off to Sydney.

As usual no visit to Singapore is ever complete without a crossover to Johor Bahru. We made two trips there, buying shoes like crazy and blouses. Maz tried the naan and prawn lemak cili padi at Pandan City. She was taken aback by the quality and taste of the food. Her eyes rolled up at the smacking good taste of the freshly grounded cili padi sauteed with galangal, lemon grass and some coconut juice. The low price almost knocked her flat.

Maz also had time to attend her school reunion where she got to meet her Primary 1 classmates whom she had not set eyes for the past thirty years. She snatched some time to tailor her kebaya at Geylang. Orchard Road, Bugis and Arab Street were not given a miss. My brother and husband also arranged for her to swing her nights with Tania. Clark Quay was another place they went for some late dinner and music. My sons and nephews dragged Ema on their ghost hunt. Changi Hospital, Pasir Ris and Punggol bore nothing to make their hair stand. Ema's shrieking hyena-like laughter must have scared those apparations away!

I am so fortunate to have Tini look after my sister's family needs. She managed the cooking so well by serving different dishes daily. Whatever my sister and her children craved for, Tini would prepare the next day. They had mee rebus, mee siam, soto, spaghetti, carbonara macoroni, mushroom soup, roti jala, curry chicken, tomato rice, ayam masak merah and many more. What Tini had to do was just asked what Maz wanted to eat the night before and the dishes would be ready for their breakfast or lunch. Maz also brought home lempeyek and fried shallots all done by Tini. And a big fat NO to those who wish Tini could be on loaned into your household!

Zac loves prata for breakfast while Ema prefers thosai. There would be nasi lemak, lontong, cereal, putu mayam or toast to add to the items for the breakfast table. Maz is not a great eater and would just nibble her food. But I did see her truly eat when she requested for mussel sambal and lemak cekur manis.

We are always delighted to have Maz and her family over. It was like a family reunion for us. We will wait for Maz's visit again with bated breath.

SUMMERDALE PENTHOUSE

With Minah, the ever-friendly host

Sister Power with Killer Powered Lungs

Mum with Maz's mum-in-law. Both are tough cookies to crack!

Maz with Zac who only drinks Seasons Ice Lemon Tea

With Aishah (Minah's charming daughter) from RP

Before the make-over of Yek

The reigning Ms Boon Lay 2011. The after make-over look!

The Goddess of Love worshipped by man from all walks of life

A lucky prize winner - Hajjah Sabiah Bte Sheikh Madar

Maz and I beat the youngest contestants with our pregnated-sized balloon

A rock queen was born on the 13th floor penthouse

Smoke on the water and fire on the penthouse.....

I ain't gonna be just a face in the crowd. You're gonna hear Ida's voice

Don't be a Cassanova ok, Zac?

Maz and her outlaws.....oopsss... her sis-in-laws I mean!

LAY BOON LAY FOR ME

We received an invitation for a new-year gathering and visited Minah's and Ebby's Summerdale penthouse at Boon Lay Drive. My husband was engaged in his work while my two sons had their own plans. When you have two grown-up boys, it's almost impossible to get everyone at the same time for a night out. Thus, together with my mum, Maz, Zac and Tini we hopped into our Terios and ventured to one of my least visited places on Singapore's geographical map - Boon Lay at West Coast Town.

Summerdale is a 99-year leasehold development. We were welcomed warmly by our host. The unit was tastefully decorated with knick-knacks and decorative items from all over the world. Minah and Ebby have obviously been globe-trotting from Asia to Europe and from America to Ocenia. The view from the 13th floor spacious penthouse was fantastic, offering almost the whole town of Boon Lay. The MRT track was ahead of us while Boon Lay Shopping Centre and The Bluez were just within a walking distance. A private institution was just a stone's throw away. The flickering lights from the nearby residential blocks and commercial retail buildings blanketed the area pleasingly, especially on that cool breezy night. I could just pull out a rocking chair and whilst my time away in eternity anytime.

With a commanding view and a space to entertain, you won't actually need to dine at swanky and fancy restaurants. Ebby had made a good decision when he took up the penthouse unit. He must have had his Math right. The family's needs are self-sufficiently catered by the facilities abounding the area. Entertainment can just be at one's dwelling place, offering privacy and the warmth of a home with throw-ins like hospitality and graciousness. Not only do you save on tons of money, but offering an alternative way of entertaining your guests from one's penthouse is a novelty and refreshing idea.

I used to imagine Boon Lay as one of the a far-flung places in the western part of Singapore where you hardly can find life and entertainment but only old unwelcomed dull grey blocks of flats of yesteryear's. With no relatives staying around the vicinity, my GPS has never been programmed to direct me there. Was I being biased and prejudiced of the western parts of Singapore? Having been raised and lived my entire life at the eastern and southern parts of Singapore, I have to admit shamelessly that I was. I know little of Boon Lay, Jurong West or Jurong Extension for that matter

All this while, Yishun has been my guiding compass for everything that I need. I work in Yishun, stay in Yishun and shop in Yishun. There is no reason for me to crawl out from my Yishun shell. I think I have just been like a suaku, leading a comfortable life in a familiar surrounding and not been brave enough to catapult myself to places I have no bearing and connection of. A night in Boon Lay had forced me to reexamine how I should try to accept new places; with a more open mindset and see things from a wide-angled lens.

My perception of Boon Lay totally took a different view when my son Thaqif drove us there that night. Boon Lay lay in front of me as a bustling satellite town which had been given a new lease of life. Boon Lay's landscape is kicking, alive and shouting of its existence to its first-time visitors like me. We past Boon Lay Place. It had been closed and the entire road was lit up and drowned with music as the folks got ready to usher in the new year. The entire road was jam-packed with our foreign workers and local revelers. That was one way to integrate our hard-working foreign source of labour to the local community.

We ushered in the new year with games, Botak Jones steak and loads of fun and laughter. Most of Maz's in-laws were there to welcome 2011 and say goodbye to 2010. The penthouse was turned upside down as we neared midnight. Earlier on we had rocked the 13th floor with our ala-Bon Jovi, ala-Deep Purple performances and port-belly earth-shaking dancing. Shakira would love to learn some of the gyrating hip moves from our port-belly dancers.

There was almost an earthquake when my team members dolled up Yek with glossy lipstick and splashed his rosy cheeks with red fire cracker rouge. There were the 'oohhsss' and 'ahhhsss' from the men when they stealthily eyed his Marilyn Monroe's upturned dewylicious lips and alluring kohl-lined doe-eyes. With his infectious dimpled smile and a body to die for, Yek was unanimoulsy voted as our reigning Ms Boon Lay 2011 at the strike of twelve.

I didn't wait long enough to find out if Yek received any indecent proposals from the men around. The heat of the night seemed to blaze the penthouse when I left.

Roll in the slides.

PRATA KHANA

Tea Tarik to end the night

It had been an enjoyable night for all
Syukur, Nani and Cuai waiting for their prata

Yati with her son Yusuf. He can draw planes well.

Two brothers - Ridzwan and Yusuf

Prata had brought a Johorian to Jalan Kayu

Thanks for the prata Yati and the fish head curry. Burp...

The fish head curry we had

Ariff- our newly-wed cousin

The empty plates polished clean by the men

Ratna, Razif and Arif

Can I insert a $1.00 coin in you, mum? I want a piggy ride.

These fellows can also take your prata order!

Relaxing after some fish-head curry

The fluffy prata with curry

FRET OVER PRATA

Cousin Nani and Hubby Syukur had driven across the causeway from Kuala Lumpur for the new year. It's time for another meet-up and more food to spoil my diet plans and pile the extra kilos all at the wrong places. We opted for Jalan Kayu for some prata, mutton and fish head curry and easy parking that week-day night.

During the prata hey days of Jalan Kayu, this wheat flour pancake look-alike was sold at many stalls lining the road, shaded by mighty Angsana trees. Weary SAF soldiers in dusty boots (from the nearby Seletar Camp) and those salivating for some good prata from all over Singapore would throng this area day and night for a visit to their favourite stall. There was never a time the stalls, though many of them would vie for hungry 'Prataners' had any empty seats. In fact it was mandatory for you to queue for a vacant seat and like any true blood 'Prataners', actually would not mind waiting though the stomach could be rumbling with hunger and head fuming like Mount Bromo for an eruption any moment just drooling over the prata.

You had to try out the many pratas available before you could proclaim your top fave stall. Everyone had their favourite prata stall and would head for it automatically with tongue wagging for the mutton or fish curry. The Jalan Kayu prata was the epitome of all pratas sold in Singapore and everyone wanted to claim a stake at having eaten the one and only Jalan Kayu prata. I had been disappointed several times because the pratas or the mutton curry were sold out when I reached there around 7pm.

The prata sold at that time was never bigger than my palm, yet it was crispy, fluffy and would shred easily with a light tug on the cooked dough. It cost forty cents for a plain piece and was considered expensive back then. I preferred eating the prata with my hands than using the metal spoon and fork. Letting the curry soak, sponge and slosh the prata before putting the soggy piece into my cavernous mouth was simply heaven. It's what Colonel Sanders would say 'finger-licking good' or may be "palm-licking syiok" if he had had tasted the elliptical-shaped prata dipped in the mutton gravy or fish curry.

Your hands would smell of the strong curry gravy even after a good wash. Just avoid burping in front of your boss or go for a date after your prata rendezvous, especially when you had reported late for duty or did not exercise punctuality for your appointment. People would have known you have tucked in a few pieces of the pratas even a kilometre away when you let out the wind.

The mutton curry was another legend to write about. It was aromatic, spicy and thick. The cube mutton pieces was tender and moist. It had been cooked to absorb the combination of the myriad of grounded spices used to produce a flavourful rich taste of the best curry gravy around this part of Singapore. Your nostrils could flare and fan out like the tail on an excited male Thai fighting fish when the stall owner slid open his pot cover to scoop the dish. This high-blood pressure causing mutton meat cost $4.00 a plate. High-blood pressure causing or not, snakes of queue reminding you of a dragon dance performance on Chinese New Year would form along the road every evening. This was a common scene along Jalan Kayu daily before the introduction of the present million dollar Toto winning queues at 7-11 outlets.

Nowadays, you can find two to three shops selling prata as opposed to about a dozen during the 80's. The old prata kings of Jalan Kayu had long hung their pots and aprons due to the development of the surrounding area. You have newer owners now and more varieties of prata to spoil your palate. The relaxing no-stress environment has been given a make-over. No longer are there road side stalls where you just grab a stool to enjoy your prata with a glass of sarabat tea mixed with a falling Angsana tree leaf and shout your order at the top of your voice to the dhoti-clad mama prata. Your prata now is served in air-conditioned room with order taken by waiters who scribble your list in writing which they alone could understand.

Give me back the good old Jalan Kayu road-side days of prata stalls any time, my friend.

Bai, teh halia satu, prata kosong dua. Kuah kasi lebih. Masuk buku
(Uncle, give me one glass of ginger tea and two plain prata. Extra gravy. Add into my account book)