Memoirs of Margaret Chan

Margaret Chan – yes, that’s what my friends used to call me. They decided that I had been mistaken for a Chinese too many times that I needed a Chinese name. They taught me how to say, “Wa emsi Teng Lang. Wa Honna Lang”. I don’t know how these words are spelt but they are Hokkien for “I am not Chinese. I am a Malay.” So, when that didn’t work, they named me Margaret Chan and I masqueraded as Margaret Chan when it suited me and I acquired quite an impressive volume of Chinese words –enough to carry a conversation.

I believe Margaret Chan was concieved in my mind when I was a mere toddler. People used to comment to Mak, “Laaa, anak sapa ni? Lain sangat. Anak nyonya mana?” And Mak used to play along and say, “Aha, anak Ah Nui kedai depan tu...dia suruh bela!” So, for a long while, especially when I felt slighted and entertained thoughts of running away from home after a quarrel with Kak Cik or when Mak favoured Lilah more, I really thought I was Ah Nui’s offspring.

Ah Nui helped her mum in that small shop by the big brick house across the road. It’s near enough for Mak to trust me to go and buy little things like matches and salt or sugar. I’d always take the opportunity to play ‘tikam’ and I remember having to stand on my toes to reach over the counter to pay her. And what a messy counter it was – full of buku tiga lima, old Chinese movie magazines and jars of asams and Hacks and Kiss Me. I always wondered how Ah Nui and her old mum knew where everything was among the clutter.

I didn’t have many friends then apart from visiting cousins, not even among those little girls whose mothers chased after them with their bowls of steaming porridge every evening. But I remember a regular visitor – a Chinese boy – a bit older than me, I think. He used to come to the house to escape the wrath of his mother. From the whisperings Mak had with Tok, I gathered that his mother was suffering from what I now know as post natal depression – but I heard Mak described it as gila meriyan. And I remember trembling with excitement hiding with him under the huge platform that Pak made in the kitchen, or in that small room under the stairs. Nowadays whenever I went home, I’d remember the boy whose name I never knew whenever I looked under the pangkin or in that small room that we now store old shoes. I never knew what happened to him or whether his mother ever recovered.

Anyway, when Pak got the transfer to Yan, we lived in front of Ah Gek’s house and Ah Gek had her nieces with her. One of them, Hooi Yong, was a classmate of mine. Very clever girl and we’d play hide and seek or do our homework together. But most of the time, she had to help Ah Gek, especially during Chinese New year, to sew up the hems or make kueh kapit. And sometimes, Poh Choo would join us. Thus my knowledge of Hokkien increased and at Chinese new year do’s where we all donned our brand new dresses with stiff petticoats underneath, no one was none the wiser about my ethnic origins. Poh Choo and Hooi Yong with their slightly darker skin looked more Malay than me.

Margaret Chan then moved back to Alor Star when Mak went to Mekah and acquired some new friends in the big house that Pak rented out to a Chinese contractor and his family. Thus besides learning the tulang belud from Tok, I also learnt how to play Chinese checkers with his two daughters who went to Keat Hwa. It was the year the song Pu Yau was a hit and I’d belt out the song with such emotions in the bathroom when Tok was having her afternoon nap.

Then, the big brick house across the road had a new occupant. Gaik Hong came to live with her grandparents and since then our friendship grew. At noon, when I waited under the big tree for the school bus, Gaik Hong would ask her trishaw man, Ah Chang to stop and give me a lift. We were like sisters going every where together. Almost every year when I go back, we’d have a reunion and last year, Gaik Hong made it to the party looking as lovely as ever. There were so many others from the primary school of SNC. Some of us proceeded to do our Form Six at Sultan Abdul Hamid College – our first direct contact with the boys whom we only used to see cycling the opposite direction to their school. Again, friends like Teng Boo, Wah Long, Hong Choo remained friends until now and four years ago we celebrated our 30th Anniversary.
Reunion of SNC friends

At ITM the Margaret Chan side of me didn’t quite lose her identity, nor forget her Hokkien for she found her soul mate in Fatimah Abu Bakar who at that time was more well versed in Hokkien than in Malay. And my dressing too alternated between the kebaya and cheongsam tops. Such was my split personality. I wasn’t complaining then and am not complaining now.

My first posting was to Penang and I lodged in Green Garden with Aunty Lucy, a stern looking lady with a no nonsence look about her. But I took to her instantly. Her small terrace house was spotless and she adopted me like a daughter she never had. Mak came all the way from Alor Star and was horrified to see me living in a house with a big altar in the front room. But seeing how Aunty Lucy took care of me, she didn't mind one bit. In the evenings I’d accompany Aunty Lucy to her temple nearby and late, late at night, together with Frieda and Uncle Boey from across the road, we’d drive along the esplanade and stop for some rojak or laksa Penang. Sometimes, when I stayed back during the weekends, I’d read stories to Darren, a young blind boy who visited Aunt Lucy. It is sad that now I have lost touch with Aunty Lucy and the Chinese family that adopted me during my stint in Penang.

Chinese New Year at Leicester Square

Yesterday I was in China Town, Leicester Square and was delighted to see the transformation in preparation for the festive period this weekend. There were lanterns and lanterns everywhere and of course the smell of oranges that for me will always remind me of Chinese New Year celebrations with my friends back home.

To all my Chinese friends, Hooi Yong, Poh Choo, Ek Ti, Adeline, Mui Ngoh, Bee Em, Ngoot Chooi, Wah Long, Kee Wan, Hong Chu and Teng Boo, Julie, Siew Phaik – Xong Xi Fa Cai....Ang Pau Gia Lai..hehe! And yes to Caroline and Annabel too if you are reading this.

And not forgetting my newfound cyber friends – Lydia, Mumsgather and Lilian – have a wonderful time with the family on this wonderful day!

Happy times with Aunty Lucy, Frieda & Uncle Boey

And last but not least – Aunty Lucy and Frieda and Uncle Boey, where ever you are, thank you for adopting me.

Knowing all of you has indeed enriched my life.

And of course, my little friend under the stairs – keep well.

HAPPY CHINESE NEW YEAR!!