A funeral in Penang for my maternal grandmother brought the family together again - it was a time of reminiscing, and to my surprise, a time for looking at the roots of my maternal family. I suppose it is a mark of a certain age when one is willing to look into the past and seek out one's heritage and family origins. Relatives that I hadn't met for more than 10 years, but who I remembered well from my childhood days were together again. Dad got involved in drawing a family tree of the Ooi family. The patriach of the day, my great-grandfather Wooi was a rubber tapper made good, who had founded several churches and schools in Penang. Of his 6 children, there is only one still living, and apparently still in relatively good health in Sydney. Of his children, I have clearest memories of my grandmother (of course) and her younger sister, known to friends as Nonya and Putih, respectively. No one now knows why, except perhaps it was a family joke about their skin tones. The Ooi sisters were redoubtable women who, perhaps as daughters of a rich man, did not have any qualms about making their opinions known. I was exposed to Grandma's gentler side, as she was my caregiver in my early childhood while my parents were working. Grandma was a fun-loving person, who was always on the go and was always at the shops or at the movies. Unfortunately, it is still one of my most vivid memories of myself throwing a huge tantrum after watching Mary Poppins - I remember her embarrassment of having a screaming 3 year old acting out in front of an unsympathetic crowd, and the heady sense of power that the brat that I was felt at that time. That was probably the last movie that she brought me to.
The Oois came from Xiamen, and were the envied segment of the family in China. Grandma married into the Yeoh family, but the Yeohs at that time, were an impecunious lot, as the Yeoh great grandfather had died early, leaving Grandpa Yeoh to fend for numerous young siblings. Uncle Bob told me that Great-great grandfather Yeoh was apparently a high ranking general in the Chinese army, whose sons had been killed in the wars, and he had sent his youngest son to Malaysia to continue the family line in relative peace. The Yeohs were also from Xiamen, and apparently had Arabic roots as traders from the Middle East had intermarried with local Chinese and taken on the family name of "Yang". These origins explained the dark and almost swarthy appearance of my uncle and some of his generation, and perhaps a kind of a throwback in my own kids!
Going back to Grandma's old house brought back a lot of memories - there was the old marble table where we had many delectable meals whipped up by Grandpa Yeoh's younger unmarried sister. I remember going at daybreak to the beach at Gurney Drive to dig up clams, then bringing pails of our spoils back and she would cook them immediately for us. The garden was still full of local plants used for cooking - limau purut, pandan leaves, curry leaves, lime plants, set alongside with my favourite swing. The smell of the limau purut immediately brought back memories of Grandaunt Yeoh's famous Penang Otak that is nothing like the skinny Singapore version, but large and generous, pyramid-shaped and rice-bowl sized creations.
I also got a kick out of walking through Georgetown, looking at the old-time Mama stalls, stumbling over the cracked pavements and dashing through the truly hairy traffic.
The face of Penang is changing, but thank God the food is still good. We didn't have much time to scout around for food, but there were still little kopitiams along Gurney Drive next to the hotel, and we could still indulge in the ubiquitous Penang Char Kway Teow.
Breakfast was a delectable affair - Meehoon soup with White Pomfret, and a lovely jasmine tea that had an unusual sweet aftertaste.
Many of my happy childhood memories are still in Penang - we used to fly up every year, but stopped this after my mother passed away. With my Grandmother's passing, it seems to be a chapter closed, although we have phone numbers and e-mails of miscellaneous relatives scattered over Malaysia, Singapore, Australia and the UK. The old house is likely to be sold. There is a little pang there, as there were many happy days spent in that old timber house. My children will never have these memories, nor will I have the secrets of Grandaunt Yeoh's cooking genius although I suspect a kindred spirit across the many years. I was just listening to this song today by Casting Crowns, and it encapsulates my thoughts about the passing of our lives.
Who am I that the Lord of all the earth
Would care to know my name
Would care to feel my hurt
Who am I that the bright and morning star
Would choose to light the way for my ever wandering heart
Not because of who I am, but because of what You’ve done
Not because of what I’ve done, but because of who You are
Chorus:
I am a flower quickly fading, here today and gone tomorrow
A wave tossed in the ocean, a vapor in the wind
Still You hear me when I’m calling
Lord You catch me when I’m falling
And You told me who I am
I am Yours
I am Yours
Who am I that the eyes that see my sin
Could look on me with love
And watch me rise again
Who am I that the voice that calmed the sea,
Called out through the rain
And calmed the storm in me
Not because of who I am, but because of what You’ve done
Not because of what I’ve done, but because of who You are
Chorus:
I am a flower quickly fading, here today and gone tomorrow
A wave tossed in the ocean, a vapor in the wind
Still You hear me when I’m calling
Lord You catch me when I’m falling
And You told me who I am
I am Yours
I am Yours
