Long before Ngiu Kee and Electra House, my parents would proudly shop from nothing less then The Sarawak Trading Company. I presume The Sarawak Trading Company must have been a purveyor of high quality items as mum would vouch for the quality of the imported leather footwear and apparel from England.
Baju melayu or 'baju teluk belanga' proudly tailored in Kampong Gita would be the primary apparel for raya. The teluk belangas came in the colours of the rainbow and more. The men and their sons of each family would usually have their teluk belangas in matching colours. Dad, Piruz and I were no exception. Different colours each year. The shopping for songkok or 'topi melayu' as we called it in kuching then would be from India Street and usually during the last few days of posa.
The shopping expeditions for raya clothes would normally be completed as early as one to two weeks before raya. The teluk belangas on the other hand were often delivered on raya eve itself. On one or two occasions they were even delivered on raya morning itself. There were just not enough tailors in the kampong to cope with all the orders for baju kurungs and teluk belangas.
Our raya shopping trips would bring us to India Street, Ngiu Kee in Electra house, Khoo Hun Yeang Street and also Carpenter Street. Years later it would lead us to Sin Ah and Jen Hing tailors. I recall having a woollen t-shirt with red and black stripes, a brown cotton shirt with a printed motif that I remember was so comfortable. Chequered shirts in strong red, green or blue were my mum's favourite choices for me and cotton shorts in various colours. Our raya attire would not be completed without socks and black or dark leather laced shoes. Mum took pride in her taste and choice of clothings for us, remarking that we were always outstanding. Mother's love!
How I wish I had as strong a say in my children's dressing as my mother had over ours. I often jest about my son Mark's loose jeans which would drop below his hips and the boxers showing. Arrrrgh!!!! And kids these days would prefer tattered converse canvass shoes over a black leather pair. My sons Mark and Adam would have their own say over their haircut and styles too. In contrast when I was their age, I had no say at all. Haircuts would mean trips to the village barber, Pak Tinggal, whose wooden 'salon' was located next to bicycle shop at the junction near teh entrance to Kampung Gita. I guess times are different and I have to move on, unwillingly.
The first pair of long trousers I owned were a grey slack pair which my parents bought for me for raya in 1973, matched with a white long sleeve cotton shirt with two pockets. I can still recollect putting them on every night before raya. Hands in the pockets, admiring myself in the mirror from all angles. Man, I was hip personified...hehehehe!! And my first jeans were a pair of TEXWOOD, when I was in form three! I could not afford an AMCO. AMCO was The brand of jeans then! I do believe my sister Betty had a red or maroon corduroy AMCO. Well, I could not resist the AMCO temptation and did 'curi pakai'. Sneakers came in the form of North Star from Bata at the time. No adidas for me until I was in university, purchased with my first scholarship funds.
As posa came to a close the whole cycle of activities like visiting and cleaning the cemetaries; watching the 'anak bulan', declarations of raya by the 'mohor', beating of the 'bedok', etc started all over again. This time around the beatings of the bedok would normally have a much more upbeat mood to it. Either that or it was probably just the raya mood.
A chore assigned to me on the eve of raya was to catch the chickens and bring them to the 'tok imam' to be slaughtered. Part and parcel of that responsibility was holding the chicken while the tok imam conducted the ritual. There was a year when the 'mohor' only announced at 10pm that raya was the next day while most people had anticipated that raya would fall a day later. There was complete pandemonium, chickens being rounded up and brought to the 'tok imam'. Imagine the ruckus that ensued, chickens everywhere in the middle of the night.
The three chinese shops in the kampong normally closed by 8pm. But on that occasion it had to be reopened till well passed midnight to sell curry powders, coconut cream and assorted condiments. It was quite a scene at Chop Hap Joo, one of the three shops; the kampong folk lining up with their 555 book at midnight racking up stuff at the last minute.
These three shops played quite a part in the lives of the kampong folk. The shopkeepers who went by the names of Hap Joo, Teng Wak and Oh Nga, regularly donated to the kampong folk during weddings, funerals, and to the surau during rayas, awal muharam, mauludil rasul or maulud nabi as we called the occasion then.
Hap Joo in particular, also provided employments to the handicap youths in the kampong, as delivery boys or shop assistants. There was a particular deaf and mute chap, that stood out, whom I remembered only as 'Mat Bebek'; an extremely pleasant boy who delivered rice, sugar, flour, groceries and gas tanks.
Preparing the home and getting it squeaky clean and ready to receive guests on raya day was tough work but amidst the raya songs playing on the radio and the 'takbir' from the surau next door made all the hard work fun. Polishing the wooden floors and stairs with wax and coconut husk brushes was something I remember doing on nights before raya. The ladies would be busy with new curtains to be fixed and new cushion covers to be fitted. And of course the familiar smell of fresh paint which stemmed from mum's hobby to paint the house, especially the living room for raya. Until today I still associate the smell of fresh paint to raya.
Mum and Nek Smah would be busy till late into the night cooking for raya. There were some serious cookings that went on before raya then. Our raya spread would typically be chicken curry, beef kurma, mutton dhal cha, yogurt (tairu) salads, sweet pineapple chutney. Just as well that raya is only once a year because the amount of ghee that went into the dishes and the 'nasi minyak could send one's cholesterol and blood pressure sky high. In addition we would have lemangs, Hj Samat's satay (or my grand uncle's Wa Mat's satay), plain and glutinous rice ketupats, biscuits and assorted cakes. Fizzy drinks, carbonated drinks that came in various labels -aeroplane, ships, etc - which were replaced in later years by Green Spot and then the F&N range, Coca Cola, etc.
Sparklers or bunga api, firecrackers especially the 'mercun padi' ruled the night of raya. All these sparkling fires and fireworks added more colours to the already wonderland of rainbow coloured bulbs that decked the houses and streets lined with pelitas and decorated archways. Rising above the din of the meriam buluhs, bustling sounds of excited children and harried adults was the nostalgic takbir raya which signalled raya has finally arrived...."Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar......Allaaahu Akbar; Allaahu Akbar Wallillah hilham...."
It would be well past midnight before we slept, our raya baju all neatly laid out ready to be worn next morning. I suspected the ladies would continue cooking way pass midnight perhaps till 3 or 4 in the morning.
To be continued...with berjarah raya.
Apologies for grammatical errors as my 'editor' is still on raya leave in Kampung Gita. Inaccurate information is entirely due to my memory failure.
[Editor's note: The editor was able to refresh her own memories of the beloved Kampong Gita over the past week, and managed to visit Hap Joo (though his daughter now mans the shop) for fizzy drinks and 20cent ice-cream with Azie]
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