The Promise and Popinjay Soap Part II

Funny how a mention of word could trigger such memories. Someone mentioned the Popinjay Soap on one of my Facebook post yesterday, and that has led me to thinking of Tok Nani and her green  Popinjay soaps. And I started telling the story, bit by bit it blossomed into the post before this and now this one too.

Someone asked me if my Tok Nani or any of us kept in touch with her biological family. Well no, she lost contact with them right from the beginning. She wasn't told that she was adopted until after her marriage, even though people wondered why she looked so different from the rest of the siblings who are younger than her in looks and color. They were all dark skinned and with sharp features. And double eyelids. While she had flat onion shaped nose, eyes that were not quite slits but distinctively oriental. And her skin, creamy soy milk-like, which breaks out with freckles whenever exposed to the sun, something I inherited but my mom doesn't.

Years later, when the flashes of memories finally clicked with the whispers she heard as a child from the nannies, cooks and drivers, she asked around about her origins, but for some reason the adults weren't too keen in talking about it. A few nuggets of informations that she managed to gather here and there say that she may have a younger sister who were also given up just before her parents went back to Japan.

Sometimes during the late 50's or 60's one of my uncles met a lady who was the spitting image of my grandmother, she took to him really well, treating him like a son even though she was some VIP wife in the northern state of Penang. Perhaps she knew something, maybe she had some answers. Too bad my uncle didn't pursue it.

By late 70's and early 80's when my mom and some of her siblings started pursuing the search, most of the elders that may be party to the information has already passed on. Some of her (adopted) siblings and children remain steadfast that she's their biological sister though.

She may have been raised in a typical Penang Jawi Pekan family with strong roots in the Indian Muslim cultures. She may have lived her live steeped in the Mami lifestyle, instilling the values into the lives of her children, grandchildren and great grandchildren, but there's no mistaking her origins.

disclaimer : this story was written based on stories I heard from my late grandmother, uncles and aunt. while no fictionalization was added, I can't guarantee that all facts are accurate. Like I said, too bad I was born a few decades too late.

The Promise and Popinjay Soap

My late maternal grandmother was adopted at the age of four. It was in the turbulent days of post Great War. Not out of poverty, not due to any dire circumstances. It was all because of a promise. A promise made between two good friends. Two who were of different religion, race and nationality. Two men who became friends from working together, yet trusted each other more than blood brothers. A promise between a man who kept losing his child and another one who longs for one.

She only had two vivid memories of her Japanese biological parents.

One was that they use Poppinjay soap in their household, and that's why she uses them for as long as I can remember. Every visit to her Kampung Melayu house I will see rows upon rows of the green soap, she was buying and stocking up on them like they were going out of fashion.

The other was that walk from the their house to the waiting buggy, and the long drive up the avenue-like driveway to her new home, the whole journey shaded by trees on both sides of the path. She was dressed in a red flouncy dress. Her straight hair falling to her chin.

That was the day they gave her up to their best friend, to keep to the promise they made even before her birth. They kept to their promise out of love no matter how difficult it must have been.

In memories of my Tok Nani, Kechik Fatimah binti Abdullah, her biological parents and the family of Mamak Chelom who raised her like a princess, believing that she brought with her good fortunes.

disclaimer : this story was written based on stories I heard from my late grandmother, uncles and aunt. while no fictionalization was added, I can't guarantee that all facts are accurate. Like I said, too bad I was born a few decades too late.

Tea with Honey and Vinegar Smoothie

Oolong Tea with Honey and Date Vinegar Smoothie

Ingredients

3g oolong tea
350ml hot water
2 tbsp honey
1 tbsp date vinegar
4 cups ice

Directions

Steep tea in hot water for 15 minutes. Strain tea and leave to cool. Put all ingredients in smoothie maker or blender and whizz. Serve immediately.

Serves 2.

MH370 : Who has the right to sensitive confidential information

I strongly agree that valid points and informations MUST be shared. With the relevant investigating team, and NOT with the general public who will only use such information to further speculate and and create more theories leading to more tension not only among the people of Malaysia but also internationally.

While we can't possibly stop them from such obsession, the governments and the military and private bodies involved in the SAR should not keep on feeding this 'authorized and unauthorized journalists and spokespersons' addiction. Unauthorized insider informations 'leakage' should be dealt with with utmost severity.

Looking at #CNN lately, we know how 'credible' these people can get with lack of valid information.

#rememberingMH370

MH370 : Have a heart, be kind

Alright people, I am going to say this once and get it over with.

I have thought and thought and this is what I think.

The family and friends of the passengers and crew of #MH370 have every right to grieve in any way they wish to. It's their loss, it's their tragedy. They are the one with their world crashing down on them, their children will no longer have a parent, parents losing a child or a whole family, a spouse is gone, a lover no more, a co-worker won't be coming back to work. It's their personal tragedy, we are only concerned citizens, there's a vast difference between the two, don't mix them up. Don't delude yourself into thinking you are a stakeholder too.

If they are going to cry and wail, let them, if they want to start blaming people, it's up to them, it's all part of the grieving and healing process. We have no right to criticize them, telling them to move on. It's happening right now, they are experiencing it now. Just let them be. Have a heart.

Imagine yourself in their shoes, you are sad, angry, confused, you can't even comprehend your feelings, then you have a reporter shoving a camera in your face, asking you how you feel, pretending to care when all they want is a good angle for a story. Failing which they will plant ideas into your head, saying this and that to get a respond from you, angering you into a more traumatic respond. How will you act if you are in their shoes? Calmly? It's easier said than done.

Now, will the media, both international and local stop sensationalizing everything? Leave them in peace at this very trying time. Stop instigating them to turn this into a 'terrorist-hunt' just because the pilots are Muslim and Malaysia is a Muslim country. Have you no shame taking advantage of such tragedy? For what? Ratings? World policing?

What you are doing now, and with the field-day the media is having, turning this into a 'circus-pantomine-talkshow' is just plain cruel and not helping at all.

Don't even let me get started on those politicizing every angle of the tragedy, you people are lower than scum!

As for the rest of 'wannabe-journalist-but-stuck-on-FB' people, straight-jacket and muzzle yourselves already! Remember karma bites back, sooner than you may care to realize.

There, I've said it. This is my personal view, and I choose to be humane.

p/s: so I realize I may lose a few friends over this, but like I said before, if you can't accept my differing opinion, we must have not been friends in the first place.