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Feels Like Home To Me

October 14, 2003 by Enida

This is probably my very last time in Be’s office. We are finally going back to Oman next Tuesday. Finally! Can you imagine yourself living in a hotel and driving a rental car for 16 months? Well, okay. It’s not all that bad. Really. That is if you know when exactly you are going home. But imagine you are dragged month after month, delayed from going to the place you call home. Mr. McGee pun would get angry, (you wouldn’t like me when I’m angry) I tell ya.


And tonight we had our definitely last supper at Restoran Indonesia here in Calgary. Did I ever tell you about the restaurant, by the way? I probably did when I wrote about some cultural performance I got to see some time ago. So, I had Ikan Lombok Kechap (Ikan Masak Kicap ler tu), and Sawi Tumis tonight. Hmmmm. Not that I can’t cook all that, but we are in the process of mengosongkan peti es. Echeh! Alasan.

I bet you know the feeling when you are just sooooo tired of your own cooking. I was on the phone with Cik Nan couple days ago and she was feeling the same way. So, we tortured ourselves talking about Mee Bandung, Mee Rebus and Mee Hailam. Boleh buat sendiri. Anytime. Especially me, here in Calgary. Supermarket T&T cik main complete lagi. Segala maknenek ada. Sajer je memorbidkan diri. Ahak.

So we are going home. Hmmm. Sometimes I don’t even know what that really means. I have been “away” for far too long, that I am not quite sure where I belong anymore. People say, home is where the heart is. Well, that too is in the grey area now. I am somewhat floating. And so is my hope. I guess.

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After All These Years

September 26, 2003 by Enida

The phone rang at 5.23 this morning. I was in bed, but of course. My heart raced like mesin jahit tengah laju gitu, I tell ya. Ever since that pukul-3-pagi call from my sister with the news about my Mom kemalangan June this year, it’s just hard for me to bring myself to the phone anymore. Not between midnight and 6 am, at least. Well, the call was from Mom. Her voice sent floods of thoughts of Dad to my mind. I was ready. At this age, I know I am vulnerable. The only thing I don’t know is…how much that vulnerability could prepare me.


“Is everyone okay?” was my very first question.

Yeah, everyone was okay. But Mom said, they had a guest who wanted to speak with me. Huh? At 5.30am? 7.30pm Malaysia time masa tu. That guest had better be a VIP, I murmured. Mom chuckled. Anyway, remember my first love that I mentioned in the

last entry? The one yang datang dalam mimpi the other night. Uh, no…it wasn’t him. The guest was his brother! Now, you would ask “Apa mimpi?” too, if it happened to you. Wouldn’t you?


After all these years, six altogether, I am still remembered rupanya. And missed. The last time I saw him, he was still in Tingkatan Lima, SPM year. I was down, miserable, and old. Hah. At that tender age, he was there for me ever so caring, listening to my sob stories. Though he knew, antara his big bro and me there was no more possible titik temu, he was there. Godsent.

I promised to come and visit him again the week after that, six years ago. But that was a promise I could not keep. I offered him neither an explanation, nor apologies until this morning. Eight thousand miles and six years later. I had been thinking of him, of his family off and on. How can I not? Every so often ada je mimpi yang datang. And I am not the kind yang percaya mimpi either.

The point is, I had been thinking and remembering. Cards every year. Some ‘tembak’ calls sekali-sekala. Ahak ahak.(Cik Nan has been calling me a “stalker” ever since I told her about this darkest secret of mine!) Naughty me! But I have not been brave enough to face his family’s frustration about the whole jodoh issue. He is happy now, I heard. I asked. So am I. I couldn’t ask for more. Baru je semalam terkenang lagu lama:

Kepentingan sendiri
tidak diingini
bahgia kekasih
saja yang diharapi

There are stories waiting to be told sebenarnya. Between Ijai and me. Selasa depan I will call. Now, that’s a promise I intend to keep. Come hell or high water.

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Mama Mia

September 24, 2003 by Enida

I was putting Kitty in her crib tonight when I realized that I have been wishing all these wishes. I wish my mother could see how much Kitty has grown the past ten months. I wish my mother could adore my lil Kitty when she gives Vel (her teddy bear) hugs and kisses every ten minutes or so, macam kan lama nor tak jumpa. I never had a soft toy when I was a lil girl. I still don’t! Huh, I should get one lah tomorrow. IKEA ada satu bear ni besor for only CAD$19.99. Echeh!


I wish my mother could know how blessed I am to have Kitreena in my life, and blessed have I been to have a good mother. Cik Nan was right, to have a daughter is to reconnect with our Mom…to have a legacy, a warranty of some sort. That, that deep-seated soul has found a home. Hmmm I’m sure my Mom knows. I should just keep counting my blessings, I suppose. God will take care of the rest.

I wish, more than anything though, to go home to my mother. To claim and reclaim her sweet, warm embrace. And to make up for all these years. Years when there were thousands of miles between us. And years when she was too busy taking care of the whole family. It must have been hard. No! I know it was hard. I was there, I saw it all.

Eight children was a houseful. Mind you, we survived living in a tiny house with only one bedroom. Satu bilik, which didn’t even have a door, and five children. Hah, bayangkan lah tuan-tuan dan puan-puan. The room was so tiny that it only fit one queen-size bed and a gobok. The katil had both end-boards rrrrrright to the walls! The only space left was for us to stand in front of the gobok to use the mirror. Sikat rambut, sapu bedak, cabut uban and other hairs applicable. Heee hee.

Then we moved to a bigger house. Two bedrooms. And I remember it was then that Dad bought Mom a washing machine. Semi-automatic. What made it fully automatic was the machine called Mom. Automatically, every morning it ran and we all had clean bajus to wear. (I still moaned and groaned when Mom wouldn’t allow me to put my kasut sekolah in the machine! Oh why me? Why me? Why? Grrrr!)

It wasn’t long before we moved again to the army quarters. Eight months, to be exact. But those eight months ada kisah tersendiri, I tell ya. Kisah cinta lah, apa lagi? My first love, woohoo! Speaking of whom, last night came into my slumber. I wasn’t really thinking about him during the day or anything. Well, it’s not like I have control of who comes into my dreams or who doesn’t, eh?

The army quarters, sambung balik, was even bigger. Three bedrooms. But only two were utilized. I remember moving my single army-style bed to the un-utilized room when I wanted some space for maself. I have always been a semi-introvert, actually. I do need my own quiet corner to recharge. Mom saw that right through me. But it was Dad who would chase me back to the girls’ room, to learn to share. Space then became a luxury for me. Not anymore a necessity.

Could that be why I left, I wonder. To have my own ‘space’, to have some distance between us. To go, to wonder, and to then come home. I’ve never tried to reason my choice to anyone. Not even to maself. I take it as a flow, so I go. Anyway, the bottom line is, I am wishing on a distant star tonight…that Mom is doing well, missing me, and be well kept from the secret that I am coming home soon. I just want to show up at her door and give her my biggest hug ever.

La mia Mama è la mia casa .

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Sense & Sensibility

September 15, 2003 by Enida

“Opportunities always look bigger going than coming.”
– Unknown


Betul jugak kan? In fact, often we look at opportunities as burden…to be lifted, rather than lifting. But boy! Am I glad I took the opportunity to pegi tengok “The Treasure of Indonesia” cultural performance baru ni at University of Calgary.

All of us, Be, me and Kitty were down with something yesterday. Flu bug gamaknya. But mengenangkan we had purchased FOUR tickets (with the hope, originally, to heret my ma & pa-in-law or Hani & Kees to join us), pegi lah jugak dengan berat kaki dan hati.

It turned out to be one of the best performances we had ever seen in our life! Kitreena bertepuk tangan almost sepanjang the whole show…when she wasn’t sleeping. The moment the singer nyanyi lagu Begawan Solo, Kitty looked at me with the huh-why-isn’t-it-mommy-singing look, gitu.

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Sweet September

September 12, 2003 by Enida

September always reminds me of kisah-kisah lama. Kisah kekasih lama, that is. Ewah! It’s not that I try to forget those days. I just don’t…forget. Selective memories punyer case lah jugak tu. I have nothing to complain about. People say, sometimes you have to make some wrong choices before you make the right one.


I used to tell my students that there are virtually no mistakes in life. They’re only lessons waiting to be learned. And that it’s okay to fall. Falling is good. Falling is fine. Because only when you fall that you learn how to get up. (Now, falling is not the end of you. Not getting up is.)

Like any month, September comes and September goes. Perhaps I should romanticize July from now on.

Should I really?

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There’s A Child…

September 11, 2003 by Enida

…in every man.


I just realized as I was showering yesterday (I seem to think better in the shower for some reason), that I am now taking a lot better care of myself than before. I mean, ever since Kitreena. It’s like taking care of two little children pulak sometimes. Contoh lah kan, everytime I de-wax Kitty’s ears, ahak ahak…I check mine as well. And why is that, I wonder.

Perhaps because of the

deprivation I was talking about not very long ago. I said, I grew up feeling deprived of so many things. And I am not playing any ‘blame-game’ either now. It’s just…so hard having to share one mom and one dad with seven other siblings. Of course I am not the only one feeling like this. Mereka dan keluarga mereka, all of them feeling the same way.


I berani bet a dollar to my shoes lah, each and every one of my adik-beradik has, at some point of time, felt the way I did. Tapi tu lah kan…it’s a matter of choice. I chose to feel deprived, and I believed that I was deprived of attention, understanding and meaningful time with my parents. But then again, who am I to say. Having eight children was my parents’ choice. And it was a valid choice. Was it not?

And it is now MY choice to ‘unchoose’ the feelings, probably by taking care of that little Enida in me. (Good thing I named Kitreena’s middle name the same too. Smart move, Enida!) Bak kata John Gray, embrace that little child in you, pat her on the back, smile at her, weep with her, love her. Sounds like an excuse to pamper myself, eh? But hey, if not me…saper lagi?

At this age – I am thirty-something by the way – in case you haven’t noticed, you have VERY selective memories. Again, it’s by choice, you choose to remember the past events that have significance on the man or woman you have become. If you are a successful person, you’d stress on the experiences that have enriched you, that have made you whole, that have made you big. And if you are not, you might be a little vindictive. Then, haaaa, only then…you love the blame-game!

As for maself, perhaps it was the deprivation that had shaped me, turning me into the Enida that I am. I have yet to measure my achievements as grand, no! Not even near. Tapi kan, what is success…really? Do you take into account the amount you have in your savings account. Echeh! Having fun with the pun lah pulak kan! Honestly, how does one get five stars in terms of life’s successes? How and when do you truly know you are a successful person?

I have seen quite a few countries (uh, what is globe is bahasa ek?) But I haven’t seen Egypt and I haven’t menjejakkan kaki to Peking (Beijing lah tu) where my mom’s Popo was from. And woii, I don’t know if I ever jejak Kashmir where my papajee’s grandparents were from. I have a degree and am working on a second one, in the field that I actually was originally interested in. And oh, am I having fun doing it or what! Mothering a child, I reckon, is an achievement on its own. But it’s a Work in Progress as it is.

So what is success?Cliché as it may sound, I measure success with how happy I am. I am my own picture of happiness. Thanks to the deprivation, of course. Bak kata Kahlil Gibran: “The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.”

Now, will it ever get any truer than that?

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Something About Thirty-Something

August 27, 2003 by Enida

“If better is possible, good is not enough.”
–Unknown


There’s something about being thirty-something. Something wonderful, though not easy to describe. You are pretty much set up. Established, personally and professionally. You have found your foundation, and so you are founded. Gitu. No matter whether you are single, married or under the “DSBG” punyer classification.

You are somewhat a little toned-down. Laid back, running around no more. Analogically speaking, you are now the blue flame. Not too big, not too small. No smell, no smoke, no mess. Burning, and once in a while you feel like you are burning out too. No?

It was Be’s birthday yesterday. He turned thirty-something plus-plus. Hee hee. No XXL size of celebration or anything. Just dinner at mom’s since Bruce and Scott were coming down from Airdrie. It’s not like Be has time to have a birthday anyway – work is taking years out of that poor lo kong of mine.

The tough part of being thirty-something, by the way, is getting a birthday gift for another thirty-something. What do thirty-somethings need? What are their wants? At this stage, the one thing you never have enough of…is time. Hai meh? No time to have a hobby, no time to have some time away, no time to exercise, no time for anything anymore.

And I know, a 2-Fuseaux Horaires TIMEX can’t give him those extra hours he so much needs. But what’s there to give to a thirty-something? Something wonderful of course. So I have for the last nine and a half months. “The best you can give someone is not your time, but your energy.”

I need a break. Or something.

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Love Takes Time?

August 25, 2003 by Enida

You might say that it’s over
You might say that you don’t care
You might say you don’t miss me
You don’t need me
But I know that you do
And I feel that you do
Inside

Echeh! Perasan. Well, did any of you out there miss me at all? The thing is, I missed writing more than you missing my writing. Miss me ke? Echeh! My Kitty is, as of today, nine months and fifteen days old dah. And I last wrote on February the second this year. Mak aiiii! Where did all the months go?


My Kitty…is actually my Kitreena. My pipi. She was born on November 10 last year, three days after I wrote the November to Remember entry. Nantilah, when I have gradually regained my momentum kang I sure will write about D-Day Kitreena decided to finally see us in person ek?


I am fine and dandy – in case you’re wondering. Still in Arbour Lake, Calgary. But we are leaving in a month’s time. Back to the ya habibi ya maulana ya kandang unta where we DO call home. That, too…I will cerita the later-later loh hor? Hopefully this entry will give me the inertia to write and to stay writing.

Hah, since tersebut perkataan inertia…teringat lah pulak iklan Reebok tahun 90’an dolu-dolu. “A body at rest tends to stay at rest. A body in motion, tends to stay in motion. Reebok bok bok bok bok!”

Will you stay reading?

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Feb Buku

February 3, 2003 by Enida

Gong Xi ya Gong Xi! Xing Nien Kuai Ler!


Pehhh! It’s already the second day of February pun. My ma-in-law (who is 72, by the way) is so right. It takes a while to get to 30 when you are 20. But once you’re there, the next thing you know is people making fun of your birthday cake burried under too many candles!

You must we wondering…what am I talking ’roundabout’ nih kan? Tajuk this entry is Feb Buku. Feb as in this month, February. And Buku is buku lah. You thought I had a story on sabun Fab buku tu ke? Hee hee hee. No lah. I wanted to write about books sebenornyer. How I love books and how I fell in love with books. And about how…when nothing else can, books make me feel superpositive.

I love books. That, I am sorry, I can’t deny. Love is love, no explanation. I fell in love with books since I first saw one, I guess. I remember my first book which I shared with my elder sister. I told you I have an elder sister who was born in the same year and is only 10 months older, didn’t I? Nanti lah.

As goofy as it may sound, the title of my very first book was “Si Awang Labu”. Muah hahaha! And this is no acah-mat-labu joke, ya know. It was a hard-cover book dengan ejaan bahasa Melayu yang lama, siap dengan ‘e-tanda’, okay. Green in color, the cover bore a clean sketch of Awang Labu with a pencil on one of his huge ears.

It wasn’t a sad story, but I remember feeling sad reading it. (I could read when I was three years old, BTW.) Sebab the book describes Awang Labu in a very negative way.

Si Awang Labu kaki-nya pendek.
Si Awang Labu tĕlinga-nya bĕsar.
Ini kalam (old word for ‘pensil’) kĕpunyaan Si Awang Labu,
sayang-nya dia tidak pandai mĕmbaca dan mĕnulis.

Apa tu?
I guess it was the attitude of those older generations of writers, eh? The book went on and on pasal Si Awang Labu pegi skolah but he got so frustrated with how he wasn’t able to read and write in class. He ran away and tried to find his way home, came to a ‘Y’ intersection, but didn’t know which way to take because he could not read the road-sign. Duh!

The story ended with him crying at the junction waiting for somebody to take him home. Oh tedah! Mana tak meleleh my airmata mengenangkan nasib Si Awang Labu. But being a child who had been instilled with positive attitude right from day one, I dismissed all Awang Labu’s inabilities.

And now, writing about it makes me think…perhaps the writer WAS smart afterall. Pandai dia guna reverse psychology kan? He/She (can’t remember) probably told all the bad things about Awang Labu so that children wouldn’t want to be like him. The tak pandai membaca and menulis part, that is. If you were born with short legs and huge ears, what can you do about it lah kan.

Unless you wouldn’t mind going all the distance…for cosmetic surgeries. Iyewwww! Skin deep, beauty is.

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New Year New Me

January 25, 2003 by Enida

Really?

New year new me? Yeke? Well, it’s kinda neat to have welcomed myself to a new club. The big THREE. Ooh la la! But did you notice that the older you get, the more things you don’t know for sure? It surely is the case with me.

Like the word welcomed I used in the paragraph above. I wasn’t definitely certain that there was such a word. Ye ler, past tense of come kan ke came? My 2-month old baby pun tau tu. Ewah! And past perfect tense of come…again, is also come. I could have assumed the word welcome works the same way.

Malas nak pikir banyak-banyak, I grabbed my dictionary and voila! Past and past perfect tense of welcome is welcomed rupanya. I told ya the older we get the more we’re not sure of. Well, it’s not like you care about my grammar all that much pun kan?

Or do you?

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