Sleepyhead In Surrey

I started very late my training in domestic skills. As the last child, mak never trusted me to do things in the kitchen, or anywhere in the house for that matter, pertaining to that of a domestic manner. During my childhood, mak would shoo me away from the kitchen whenever I asked to join the womenfolk (mak and my two older sisters) doing the cooking. Occasionally, I would be given the chance by my sisters to do the dishes (trust them to give me their dirty work!). Only when I was fast approaching adolescence did mak give me a few necessary pointers like how to cook rice, fry eggs, and cook a few basic dishes.

I do know a little more than I used to these days. Not wanting to subsist on bread and butter while I was studying abroad did help somewhat to my increased knowledge (however minimal it is) in this area. But nothing has prepared me for today. While waiting for my abah to finish his appointment at the doctor’s mak gave me an assignment. I was to buy fresh produce from the little wet market in Cenderawasih. Even from the get go, I was nervous.

I made a mental note: half a chicken, aubergines, potatoes, plus some additional vegetables up to my liking. That did not help much. I liked fresh button mushrooms, broccoli, cabbages and cauliflower. All the vegetables that have been listed as a no-no by abah’s doctor. Banyak angin, he said. How do I choose the chicken? The plump one? The one with lots of skin on it? The botak one?

Got to the market fine. But the owner looked at me funny. Must have been the wild-eyed look I had on. There were no helpers. Everyone went on their jolly way and proceeded to the counter to pay. Guess that’s what I’ll do. Aubergines, ahh there you are. Poke, poke, poke. All of them looked dead. They don’t look this limp at the Student Union back in Guildford. I managed to grab a couple of them that looked half decent; plump and no bumps on. Next, potatoes. This one’s easy. Grab a bag, choose the ones that didn’t look like aliens were growing on them and put into bag. Now the “additional vegetables” part. The only mushrooms available were shitake. Scratch that one. Remembered mak mentioning sawi minyak once and proceeded to look for anything that looked half like sawi. There were all sorts of them. Small, short ones. Long and leafy with golden flowers. Which one was with minyak? I just grabbed the ones with the flowers because they look the most fresh. Proceeded to grab a few packets of baby corns and a couple of carrots and pronounced to myself that I was done.

Now on to the poultry section. I half expected that since this is a wet market there would be cages lining the walls filled with live chickens. At least that’s what I remembered when I went to Pasar Besar Kuantan. No chicken in sight. There was no frozen section either. I was roaming around aimlessly hoping to hear chicken sounds that would clue me in on its whereabouts. Luckily, a pakcik stopped me.

With hands and legs akimbo he said, “Ha kelam kabut macam ni. Mau apa?”. Eheh. “Ayam ada ka pakcik?”. I followed him to a counter and hey presto! He pulled out one whole chicken from a container filled with ice. So that’s where they’ve been hiding. From my conversation, or at least his questioning and me nodding, I managed to decide how much I wanted the chicken (half, whole, quarter), whether I wanted it cut into 8, 12, or 24 pieces and whether I wanted the skin off or not. Previously, I only knew to order to the guy at Atiff’s store in Woking : “10 pounds money (that means 5 pounds in weight) chicken, cut into small pieces, skin off”. Even earlier than that, I knew how to grab the plumpest chicken breast from the frozen food section at Tesco Puchong.

Waiting for the pakcik to pack the chicken, I grabbed the newspaper at the nearby stand and proceeded to the counter. One lady asked what I was buying. I must have had the wild-eyed look a second time today because I didn’t know who she was. My mind went blank and I was speechless. Lifted the paper and pointed it to her. I was about to get into the car when I saw the lady again. Next to her Atos. Now I know who she is. One of my mak’s students. That’s great. I could not recognize her face but I could recognize her car. Next time I see a person I’ll ask "Ho hum I’m Sleepyhead. And what do you drive?". Come to think of it, I could have said to her, "Oh makcik so-and-so, I'm shopping for vegetables and chicken for my mak. So rajin a daughter that I am. Next thing I know my mak would probably let me skin the chicken when I get home and later on maybe even cook a decent finger licking dish out of all that I bought today!"

The term tak lepas laku suddenly comes to mind. I remember mak always mentions this to me if she deemed my behaviour unsuitable for a lady or for a girl-lady-person. Unladylike-lah! Tak semenggah, if you will. Unmarketable and unsellable to potential future in-laws and future besans. Come to think of it, my whole behaviour this morning was tak lepas laku. If I wasn’t already attached, I would have blown my chances of impressing a potential mother-in-law. (Yes, later on mak told me that the lady has a cute looking son). With my lack of wet-market skills and my speechlessness, I was simply unmarketable in all sense of the word.

On another unrelated note, Dina Zaman's Gongkapas Times in no more. How will I survive my mornings?

Posted in: on February 16, 2005 at at 12:39:00 PM