Don't speak unless you are spoken to

* Please pardon me for indulging in some 'down the memory lane' stories this week. Our wedding anniversary is coming up this Friday but hubby had gone for a 6-day trip in Thailand. It's almost a custom for us to 'explore' a new place of interest during our anniversary, but this year he's gone on the Bangkok-Chiang Rai- Chiang Mai trip with his parents because I don't have any leave to spare and have just started working in a new place. I hope hubby will have a good time in Thailand - I've been to Bangkok several times and had a blast in Chiang Rai (Anira, do you still remember the good old days? Hehehe). Now, if my memory served me well, I think one of the first photos he'd seen of me was taken in Chiang Rai. It would be nice if I could 'guide' him around Chiang Rai just like he 'guided' me around Kuching last year (he'd been to Kuching before, but that was my first time).  Maybe some day we'll get to play 'tourist guide' to each other in other places, insya Allah.

But first, let me share the story of how we first met...

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Ayah called me at work one Tuesday morning. (I remember it was Tuesday because Mak and Ayah used to  have their weekly mengaji session with Ustaz Asyraf on Tuesdays.)


"Kak, hari Khamis ni balik rumah awal sikit. Ada hal"
"Hah? Kenapa? Ada apa?"
"Ada orang nak jumpa"
"Hah?"
"Laa, yang bagi gambar tu lah. Kak dah tengok belum gambar tu?"
"Dah"
"Macamana? Ok tak?"
"Ok apa, nama pun Kak tak tau..."
"Nama dia Amin"
"Ooo"
"Jangan lupa, Khamis ni balik awal..."

I took a day off that Thursday. Apparently Mak and Ayah had invited this 'Ustaz Amin' over for dinner with Ustaz Asyraf, 'the introducer' on Thursday night. Mak asked me to cook some dishes.

When I first heard of the arrangement, I almost freaked out. My first thought was - "this is WEIRD". I mean seriously, do people still 'berkenalan' through arranged meeting by the parents in the new millenium? I almost had a flash of a scene a'la P.Ramlee's 'Pendekar Bujang Lapuk' - the guy chatting with both my parents and Mak would excuse herself, "duduklah dulu nak ye, nanti makcik buatkan kopi..." And Mak would ask me to serve the coffee and all... Ha ha, yes, something like a scene from life in the 1950s.

I'd never met this guy - virtually or otherwise. No sms, no email, no chat, no call. All I knew was when I was away in Kelantan, acting as my best friend's bridesmaid, Mak and Ayah had given 4 photos of me to Ustaz Asyraf in exchange of 2 photos of Ustaz Asyraf's friend who is 'age appropriate' to be introduced to me with view towards matrimony. It turned out that this friend of Ustaz Asyraf's also happened to be the nephew of Ustaz Farid - a family friend who once had given away a house to help Ayah paid his debts to a bank and since then had always been deemed in the highest esteem in our family.

So yes, thanks to the photos, I had an idea of how this 'Ustaz Amin' looked like. I knew his age - 31. I knew that he got both his bachelor and master degree from Al-Azhar University in Egypt. I knew that he almost got engaged once but it didn't happen. But I had no idea of him as a person. Is he warm or cool? Is he shy or outgoing? I had no idea of his taste, of his likes or dislikes.

I had no idea what to cook or what to wear or how to present myself on that fateful Thursday night...   

- to be continued -

Tok sah nak mengarut nak kahwin dengan orang Jepun

Back in 2004, I sometimes used to tease my late grandmother, Tok.
"I'm going to Japan, Tok. I'm going to marry a Japanese and then we'll go to Japan."
"Haish, tok sah nak mengarut nak kahwin dengan orang Jepun kapir..."
"Being Japanese does not necessarily means they are non Muslim. I'm going to marry a Muslim Japanese."
"Orang Jepun pun ada yang Islam ka?"
"Of course! I'm going to marry Mohammado Amino Nakasone..."
"Hish, aku tak suka anak cucu aku kahwin orang Jepun kapir..."
"No, I'm not going to marry a non-Muslim lah Tok. Not all Japanese are non-Muslims. He's a Muslim. His name is Amino Nakasone..."

And it would go on and on.
Tok would pucker her lips in distaste, her face all crumpled and it was kind of fun to tease just to see her reaction.

Anyway, it wouldn't be difficult to guess why Tok had a thing against Japanese, as she was there to experience the harsh and brutal living condition during Japanese occupation of Malaya in the 1940s.
Still, despite having alzheimer's disease, long after the occupation was over, Tok could still sing the 'song of submission' that the children of her time had to sing for the Japanese army.

"Miyoto kaino suru akite
yokodi kotakoku kagaya kiba
ten shino shi hatsura koto
kiba uwa odorou oyashima"
(note: I'm not exactly sure of the actual lyric, but the verses above are more or less how it sounded to us)

Tok almost always sang "Miyoto kaino" in full spirit, complete with her hand waving in the air like a conductor. It was kind of contradiction really - for somebody who abhorred to be associated with Japanese to sing the song of submission with such passion.
 
Anyway, on the day we got married, I grinned sheepishly as I introduced "Amino Nakasone" to Tok. 
Tok's immediate response?
"Hang tok sah nak mengarut nak kahwin dengan orang Jepun..."
Ha ha.

I miss...

(in no particular order)

- Cold Stone Creamery
- Kodomo no Kuni (a recent trip to Critterland brought back lots of memories from the Children Land)
- unpretentious Uniqlo stores (located anywhere from pekan koboi to Ginza)
- great customer service
- fresh sushi, especially halal Unagi sushi (apparently unagi is non-halal in Sushi King)
- Calpis
- vending machines everywhere, and with lots of non-carbonated drinks options
- everything Anpanman (I almost couldn't believe it when Humaidi went "Ang.. Ang... Angpangmang..." the other day - must be triggered by seeing Huzaifah's old Anpanman toothbrush we found recently)
- extra courtesy reserved for pregnant mothers and mothers with small children
- Momiji

Yeah, I know.
I miss Japan. 

Back again

Honestly, to re-blog after so long is not an easy thing to do.
There are so many things I've thought of sharing, but somehow I didn't know how.
I'm back at work now, so maybe being away from the children and back with more adult might help.
Better, I'm now in a new place in which I can blog, no longer in the office where not only Blogspot but even Gmail and Yahoo mail were blocked.

3 months of being a SAHM went by almost unnoticed. Okay, not exactly unnoticed. For one, I now am a firm believer that the best way to find energy to cope with three boisterous boys is to be  a SAHM. No kidding. And along the way, I've lost some weight too (some of which unfortunately had been regained once I started having a helper again about a month ago).

I've grown accustomed to having Haniyya looking for me first thing in the morning. My absence would cause him to wail "Ayah.... Abu....".  And Humaidi too would greet me with a still-heavy-lidded-almost-unopened-eyes-grin as he asked "Ibu, nak kopi". No, he's not asking for his morning coffee. By 'kopi', he's referring to chocolate flavored milk. When Huzaifah and Humaidi started showing their preference for chocolate flavored milk, rather than plain milk, they referred to the chocolate milk as 'kopi'. Probably to differentiate it from the white plain milk. Huzaifah now call it 'susu coklat', but Humaidi still call it 'kopi', despite my numerous attempts to correct it.

As for Huzaifah - he could simulatenously be a darling and a little devil. One of the tasks I enjoyed most was taking the laundry from the ampaian. I would ask Huzaifah to help me and he would insist on taking all the children-sized garments, "Yang besar, Ibu punya. Yang kecik, Ujai punya. Ibu jangan ambik yang Ujai punya, ok?"

Yet, at times he could really drive his father and me nuts by pulling a vanishing act in public area. We had to search for him all over Mines Shopping Mall in two separate occassions - both finding him at kiosk selling toys but in different parts of the mall. He watches "Lou and Lou: Safety Patrol" on Playhouse Disney, so I sternly reminded him from time to time that he has to be with an adult all the time when we go out as wandering by himself is a 'safety violation' (my brother Amirul said 'safety violation' is a big word for a kid, but thanks to Playhouse Disney, Huzaifah knows what it means). Unfortunately, Huzaifah sometimes is too fidgety to stay in a place for long. So I guess we still have a long way to go before he could be really disciplined on this. Any tips anybody?

Anyway, one of things that almost never fail to make me smile is how freely Huzaifah gives hugs and saying "I love you, Ibu". Be it for buying him the long-awaited Thomas the Tank Engine set, or taking him out for a play time at Critterland or simply preparing a toast spread with margarine and sugar.

The other day, when I returned home from work, after all the salam and excited greetings of "Ibu dah balik", I relaxed on the sofa. The boys almost immediately reached out for stuff I discarded on the table - Huzaifah put on the tudung, Haniyya the serkup, Humaidi the socks. Something tugged inside. I miss the boys at work - not feeding them at lunch, not having Huzaifah asking "Ibu tengok apa tu? Ujai nak Thomas/Oso/etc..." while I browse the Internet. I supposed seeing them putting on my stuff was visible proof that they missed me too.

Oh, but if there's one thing I don't mind about going back-to-the-office - is the chance to perform my Zohor and Asar solat in peace, without having anybody climbing on my back, or trying to get into my telekung, or pulling on my kain while I pray. Heh.