I was not going to write about Raya anymore today, to be frank. I was pretty content to leave it for another year before I let it get to me again. But it is still in the air. My homesickness is still affecting my moonlady-ness. Or is it the other way around?
I still reward myself with one Batang Buruk each time after doing dishes. Thanks, Tuan Nor! And dinner tonight was the Raya leftovers. Not to mention that all sms updates from family and friends today revolved around who went Raya-ing where. Well, I guess I’ll indulge a tiny wee bit more.
Baju Raya-wise this year is a re-run for all of us, The Johnsons. Yes, I am stating the obvious, rather obviously. I am glad, nonetheless, that Kitreena still thinks of the world about her dress that she herself hand-picked at a place in Bangi last year. She did make a comment about the sleeves getting shorter when she had it on yesterday.
I should just let her wear this Baju Raya whenever she wants from now on, Raya or not Raya, before it shrinks on her. While the long sleeves may never be short sleeves, as I hope she never grows hands longer than 50 inches, I can almost see the dress becoming the most beautiful Jackfruit Wrap within the next two years. Imagine a purple karong nangka, with beads, labucci and glitters summore!
Kitreena has grown and gone through quite a bit between mid-July and this Raya, you see. Since we got her a T-scooter when we came back from Malaysia, she has been a rider. A good one at it too, I must say. So good that it inspired me to get a T-scooter for myself! Yes, these days I send her to school riding it! I see no other mothers riding anything else but their big fancy cars. I guess that’s why Kitreena’s classmates thought I was a cool Mom! Woo hoo!
And within the last 2 weeks Kitreena has also been riding her bike without the training wheels. This girl is funny when it comes to milestones. She had been riding her bike (training wheels and all) since her 3rd birthday. Yeah, pre-Edrick era! Recently when we saw that she could balance on the T-scooter well, we nudged her into losing the training wheels. She got so scared and was so not willing to try that she totally abandoned her bike!
We then coaxed and cajoled her with a pair of roller-blades. Within just two hours of putting the fresh-from-the-shop pair of RBs, she was already gliding down Pokrovsky Boulevard leaving me green with envy! (I have mine too since 2003, but had been too scared to fall on my big 72kg butt back then. I admit that I am now so motivated by the jealousy towards Kitreena’s ease at picking up the speed and balance, I’ve signed up for ice-skating class! Yes, my butt is almost 15kg lighter now. And yes, I digressed!)
To cut another of Kitreena’s riding stories short… one late afternoon about two weeks ago, Daddy just lost patience with his daughter’s fear. He took the training wheels off of Kitreena’s bike, put her helmet on and just forced her to pedal it! As though she had been practising all these years in secret, Kitreena just rode off! Yeah again, gliding down Pokrovsky Boulevard leaving Daddy with his jaw dropped to the ground and Mommy with her eyes rounder than a rounder’s field!
We should not have been surprised, really! Kitreena had done the very same thing when she started to walk. As a baby, she was extremely cautious and got tremendously easily frustrated when she kept on falling. So cautious that she refused to even try to walk. It took her 2-3 months before she got tired of sitting and crawling. One day, she just picked herself up and started walking!
I hope she wouldn’t just pick our car keys tomorrow and start driving around Moscow looking for the Malaysian Embassador’s house. After all, she was very disappointed yesterday for not getting her Raya’s servings of Keputat! Did I tell you she wanted spaghetti with Sambal Tumis Udang for her school lunchbox today?
Aaahhh my Malaysianized Canadian monchie!
While thawing out the goulash beef which I bought some time ago in a very ambitious attemp to make Russian Goulash (of course the ambition remains an ambition), I grabbed whatever spices I had accumulated over the last 2 months here in Moscow. And with only two stalks of lemongrass, some old old old old frozen galangal, some onions to substitute shallots, and can you believe it… no kerisik, I dumped everything into the slowcooker and prayed really really hard that the next four hours when I opened the cooker, I would have a Krazy Lazy Beef Rendang.
Glossary for Neil:
And while doing dishes this evening, I noticed how I have learned to put the gloves on. It is almost automatic now that my hands would reach for them gloves before touching anything in the sink. For the truth is, I have come to appreciate my only pair of hands and have begun to pamper them as much as I possibly can. The diamond ring and the wedding band… they probably last longer than my hands. So the rings can stay on my fingers when I do dishes. Or laundry. Or when I shower. Or when I do anything. Or nothing. They stay. Just like I stay banded to The Banana Bread man.
And there are tons of Malaysian female students here in Moscow whom I think would benefit from such an international organization. But I saw none. If there were any, they could not have missed me in my bright pink Baju Kurung and should have given me a nudge asking me, “Hoyy! Tak puasa kah?” when I was sipping on my coffee at the refreshment table. I would have told them anak bulan Syawal sudah kelihatan beberapa malam sudah di Bukit Pokrovsky.
Hmmm… you know what, I should keep the rest of this story of courage for my novel. Look for Enida’s bestseller on the shelves, will ya? Chewah, bestseller, cik main! Hehe. If you can’t find it in the autobiography section, then you won’t miss it in the fiction! Tajuk novel akan diumumkan dalam beberapa bulan akan datang. Most likely it will be plagiarized from a movie title: Enemy At The Gate.
Do you have someone with whom you can stay back, sitting at your kids’ school corridor for an hour or more just to get your daily laugh stock talking silly girls’ talk like how’s best to pluck our underarm hair, and whom you can confide in, telling her what a terrible mother you think you are only to discover you both are doing the best that you can? I do.
Do you have someone who reconnects with you effortlessly, reading your mind as well as reading your blog while leaving insightful and funny comments that never fail to remind you of your own childhood and your humble beginning, keeping you humble in a subtly humble way? I do.
Questa è Enida 