Low key affair fortieth

Triple Espresso German Chocolate Cake with Vanilla Caviar Cream and Mixed Berries that I baked for my fortieth last week.

A simple no-fuss recipe because I was very busy yet I wanted to keep up with the tradition of baking for myself that I started a few years ago.

Wish you were all here too. Yes, you. Especially you.

Mama grew up with me

My mom became a mother at the tender age of fifteen. We basically did our growing up together, she living her youth and I was pretending to be an adult. At times I do feel terrible, like I robbed her of her youth and made her grow up extra fast when she wasn't exactly ready for it. I was not the easiest child to raise especially when she was still a kid herself. But through it all we've made it, all the forty years of it. For that I thank you Mama, for giving me life, for the live we lived and most of all for the unique relationship we share.

Happy Mother's Day Mama.

14,484 days

May I always live up to the spirits

of these great women of Islam, 

and also my grandmothers, 

Zeynab and Fatima.

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.