Questa è Enida

I am just a few minutes away from having to go upstairs – Kitreena’s bed time. Cicero is not home at the moment. He is with the guys, for a second make-over. Hmmm buat hal lagi, kena lah haul-over, bukan make-over. Frankly speaking, I don’t quite understand computer viruses. All I know is that there is no immunization. Walaupun dah kasik Norton 2003, kena jugak lagi kasik 2005 and whatever latest when the time comes. Ada 459 virus ke haper on Cicero. If he were a person, dah lama kena tanam six feet under.

This is quite neat, typing and writing on the laptop again. After so long. Menengok jugak sebenornya laptop-laptop dalam gobok kaca kat Carrefour semalam. Ada hajat tu okay! Mentang kat tangan ada pitih nya. Cukup lah kalau nak sambor satu hp laptop yang standard version tu je. Echeh! Dahlah boros, berlagak pulak aku ni. Repent, repent.

I spoke too soon. I posted Ralat Sifar panas-panas, straight from the oven. That was before I went again to Muscat Grand Hyatt on the final night of the Malaysian Food and Culture Festival. Saja to bawak Kitreena and Bibik to see the joget. Plus I forgot the camera the night before. All I thought of was makan-makan sampai pengsan (borrowing Dizzy Lizzy’s prinsip hidup – I admire her passion…doing anything sampai pengsan punya).

So, there were some other jogets. Finally, Malaysia was proven to be truly Asia. Indian, Chinese, and even the much awaited Ngajat. But I must say, the bonus was the Sumazau dance. Oh how I miss Sumazau. I took pictures, of course. Be was a little skeptical when I said malam sebelumnya that Kitreena would probably love the show. He didn’t think Kitty’s attention is long enough for something like that. Hmmm. Soheh now that Kitreena’s MY daughter. She is the nasi and my the kuah has tumpah all over her lah. Really.

She watched the show like never before. Well, never pun before. Not only she watched, she danced along. I should have taken the camcorder with. Kitreena was watching very attentively, except for masa the fashion show baju batik jarang. (The guys should have worn an undershirt lah at least, so that tidak menampakkan sesuatu yang girang atau perky. It was 17° Celcius that night.)

The whole Malaysian thing was great! Congratulations to all yang menjayakan nya. We want more! My only ralat zero point nya is…if I didn’t make it back to Hyatt the second time, I would not have known that they did have all the dances. Everybody paid the same rate: RO 11.900 per person for those four nights. All I saw was the Malay dances, whereas people who came the night after and probably the first night were given a lot more.

Raso lah termongak eh.

I realized this long time ago actually…that I can get all teary and emotional just watching orang menari tarian Inang. Silly me. I was in grade one when I had my first musical turn-on – watching my seniors’ melodrama performance. It was then that my ears flung open to Ahmad Jais and Rafeah Buang’s ”Ku Siram Selasih”. Strange but tarian traditional can get me stimulated (read: going). Not just the Malay dances, Tionghua‘s & Indian’s do the same thing to my brain.

Two years ago, though, I blamed it on my pregnancy when I got extremely patriotically emotional at the Calgary Indonesian Cultural Night. Tari Piring, Tari Endang, a plate of Gado-Gado, a bowl of Bakso Sapi and two or three Kleenexes later, I admitted to Be that I was homesick. I even shocked myself when I could recall most of the lyrics of Begawan Solo. I was brought up listening to Ayam Den Lapeh and Bugih Lamo. What is Begawan Solo.

Last night I was neither homesick nor pregnant, but smoke got in my eyes all the same. Came Tari Trendak Johor je, my nose didn’t know whether to get runny or stuffy. It went kembang-kempis profusely bila menengok those youngsters having fun on the stage. I really miss good ole days when I was THE Cabaret Girl on campus. The popular-for-all-the-wrong-reason girl, I was. Le Femme De Jogette!

Grand Hyatt Muscat is having a ‘Malaysia Truly Asia’ promo – Food & Cultural Festival – from February 7 – 11. We went on the 7th, cik main kobar. But the first night was just the launching night – private dinner reserved for the Malaysian delegates. I heard the news about this festival on the Oman radio. There was even a phone quiz thing. The question, though, was too mind-bonking! What is the largest city in Malaysia? D’uh!

I should not have trusted that Oman radio DJ. She is known for giving either misleading or incomplete information. (You should listen to how she baca berita. News on people wounded, or people get hurt in a car-bomb somewhere…would sound like somebody just won a trillion dollar lotery! Tak kena langsung intonation and rythm nya. Some people just don’t realize that our voice does reflect our ‘depth’.)

Anyway, the whole show was good. But one would wonder if it was truly Asia. There was no Chinese, Indian or the lain-lain dance. At all. There were the Johor Zapin, the Mak Yong/Gamelan, the Joget and Inang. Even some modern Arabic influenced Balkish-ish dance. All Malay dances, though. No tambi in white sarongs menari with sticks, or siew cher in qipao with long ribbons or kipas tangan. I was kinda longing to see some Kanang Anak Langkau look-alike dancing some Ngajat, if possible. Nope. I became quite ralat for the kesifaran of these other dances.

The food was okay too. I was quietly surprised to see a couple of English ladies berebut scooping up some cencaluk. They knew what cencaluk was, and seemed fond of it too. Of all, I was a bit disappointed with my Pengat Pisang. The bananas were pisang muda meh. So kelat loh. Good thing I had some Kuih Bangkit to sagat my lidah with afterwards. The teh tarik was menarik.

Dear Nikki and Ahmed Peter…

May you find more warmth
in each other’s arms
on these snowy days.

May you find more sweetness
in your being together
this bitter freezing season.

May you find every reason and excuse
to stay close to one another
in the heat of the fireplace…or argument;
or in the cold winter…or war.

May you find each other’s strength
that makes you weak in love;
the weakness that makes you strong
and human.

For you are a better I when you are a We.
Happy Fourth Anniversary.