Buah cempedak di luar pagar,
ambil galah tolong jolokkan;
Sayalah budak baru belajar,
kalau salah tolong tunjukkan.
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Leng Chai’s pantun on his Facebook status yesterday sure reminded me of a girl in my class when I was in Grade 5 at the All Saints’ School in Taiping. I can’t recall her name, but I remember her brother. Her kind-hearted brother whom I never met.
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Our class teacher, Miss Khoo Sin Nya, in the first few days of class that year was asking the whole class one by one of our father’s occupation. For her record, of course. And this girl, a painfully quiet girl, was almost in tears when it was her turn. Miss Khoo, not known for her sweet temper, lost her not so sweet temper when this girl (let’s just name her Bibah, okay), when Bibah would not say a word.
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We, the rest of the class, were waiting confusingly patiently that it was probably the quietest the class had ever been. The suspense was just too much to bear. I had to close my eyes for the fear that Miss Khoo would bang her table with the giant blackboard ruler (with a handle). Though I knew I wouldn’t jump and start melatah like my Toksu… I was very very nervous on behalf of Bibah.
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For thunder’s sake, just answer the teacher lah Bibah, begged I, in the deafening silence. The question was, ‘What does your father do?’ What was so hard about it? I dared to bet that everyone was dying to know what Bibah’s father’s occupation was. And what was so secret about it. Bibah’s old man could not have been a spy, could he? After all, this was Taiping in the early 80’s. Or was he a… errrr, hmmmm. Eeeeshhhhh! Enida! Don’t! I slapped myself on one cheek.
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Silence.
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Suspense.
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And then…
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“Jolok buah.“
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More silence.
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I remember the faces looking at Miss Khoo, to find Miss Khoo looking back at Bibah. And she was looking at us all in one swipe.
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“Jolok buah? Apa buah? Buah klapa ka, buah nangkak ka, buah dooriyen ka?“
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“Buah kelapa sawit, teacher,” Bibah was trembling in what sounded like a relief that she was understood. And she wasn’t laughed at.
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“Cakap laaa baba you Peladaaaanggg! Aiiiyohhh! Itu pun tatau ka?“
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For the first time I saw Bibah’s sweet smile. I think the whole class smiled with her.
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“Tapi…“
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Bibah’s tapi sent the whole class into another swing of nerve-wrecking silence. Miss Khoo looked up from her record book and looked at Bibah with the biggest eyes possible probably was ready to attack Bibah for not telling the whole truth.
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“Tapi saya duduk dengan abang saya, baba saya sudah tua. Abang saya askar, teacher. Dia tolong jaga saya dengan adik-adik saya. Mak saya dah meninggal.“
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Bibah didn’t cry.
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But I know someone who did.
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Glossary for Neil and Jimmy:
jolok = poke
buah = fruit
apa = what
klapa/kelapa = coconut
nangka = jackfruit
dooriyen = durian
kelapa sawit = palm
cakap = say/tell
peladang = farmer
tapi = but
“Tapi saya duduk dengan abang saya, baba saya sudah tua. Abang saya askar, teacher. Dia tolong jaga saya dengan adik-adik saya. Mak saya dah meninggal.” =
“But I live with my elder brother, my father is old. My brother serves in the army, teacher. He (brother) helps taking care of me and my younger siblings. My mother has passed away.”
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And then, there are songs that keep me in. That keep me in me. That keep me down. To earth. Away from the heavens where I thought I have been to. And back. There are songs that keep me real.
Cakpong cakpong!
Questa è Enida 