Monday, July 20, 2015

IT’S A MALAY THING. OR IS IT JUST US?

When you come to our house on any day during Syawal, you’ll find that my mother would have prepared some kind of dishes, Johor favourites or otherwise, elaborate fare or simple ones, for you and your family or your extended families or friends who tagged along for the visit.
If you call ahead a day or two before the visit, you’ll give her enough time to buy the ingredients and cook a storm in the kitchen.  If not, she’ll boil spaghetti and toss it in Prego’s Carbonara sauce, which she has in stock at home.
Yes, she’ll go out of her way to make sure that you are fed when you come to the house; never mind the fact that you told her not to susahkan diri nak masak bagai when you called to inform her of your impending visit.
She reminds me of her aunty, who she stayed with her teenage years, whom I addressed as Tok Itam. If we dropped by her house unannounced at Jalan Parit Besar in Batu Pahat, the first thing she would say after the customary greetings, hugs and kisses will be “Apa aku nak bagi kau orang makan ni?” She’ll tinker in her kitchen and a few hours later, lunch will be served despite telling her kami singgah sekejap je ni.”
(This is the same grand aunt who, when we were much younger, told my mother to bring us back to the kampong often after she found my brother and I chasing after a turkey in her backyard).
Whenever we asked why she needs to do all that, my mother will say, “orang kan datang nak beraya.” So much so, people expect to be feasted when they are at our home.
Well, I can understand if it’s the first day of raya where you’ll be cooking special dishes for the family and you share the Raya fare with those who come for a visit on that day or if you hold an open house when you invite everyone to your house. But individual visits, even if it is at the tail end of Syawal?
We had a discussion over this. My nephews and nieces tell me it’s not just nenek who is doing this but it’s a Malay thing.
“When you go visiting your Chinese friends during Chinese New Year, your Indian friends during Deepavali and your Christian friends during Christmas, what do you eat? Oranges, nuts, muruku, cookies and cakes only, kan? Orang Melayu saja yang jamu makanan berat-berat ni,” one niece said.
When I raised the halal issue, she said they can always cater to meet the requirements of their Muslim friends.
“It is a same with buying new clothes for Raya,” a nephew said. “You need a minimum of two Baju Kurung, one for the first day of Raya and the other for the second day of visiting.
“I visited my Chinese friend during Chinese New Year. She was wearing a T-shirt and a pair of cut-off jeans that didn’t look all that new. So, this is another Malay thing,” he said.
“And this thing about house-cleaning, kita buat se tahun sekali saja ke?’ another niece said, while her husband attending to one of three table fans at our home.
I remembered having to polish my mother’s brassware collection every Raya. The work is tedious and that alone can take up the entire day. She never used them except for family engagements and weddings. Most times, these brassware are kept locked in a display cupboard but we still had to polish them before Hari Raya.
Or maybe it is just us?” I asked them.


You can only find woven ketupat shells nearing Syawal
(file pix)


Wednesday, July 15, 2015

SELAMAT HARI RAYA AIDILFITRI 1436H

Kian Berlabuh Tirai Ramadhan …
         Lambaian Syawal Kini Di Nanti …

Saya ingin mengambil kesempatan ini untuk memohon keampunan di atas segala perbuatan dan percakapan saya samada di dalam keadaan sedar atau tidak. Jua, di halalkan segala makan dan minum.

Sesungguhnya, yang baik itu datangnya dari Allah SWT dan segala keburukan, kesalahan dan kesilapan itu datangnya dari diri saya sendiri. 

Semoga kita dapat perkukuhkan ikatan silaratul rahim yang sedia ada, insya’Allah.

Tulus Ikhlas


Fauziah Ismail

Saturday, July 11, 2015

A YEAR AGO TODAY ... I'M BIONIC ... well, not even close!

“She can now stick a fridge magnet on her right arm.”
“Bionic woman … ”
“Oooh, boleh sepak muka orang sampai ke dinding ni …”
"She 
“She still has her humour intact ...” after telling them that the doctor had to graft the humerus bone. Humerus … humour … get it? No? Never mind.
Yes, my office mates poked fun at me. I was away from the office for almost a month. I had popped in prior to the surgery (on the pretext of sending in the medical chit although the aim was to get out of the house) and a few times after (same reason and on the way from the hospital into the city).
When the surgeon finally agreed to discharge me, he gave a month supply of painkillers and medicated plasters. I took home the two ice packs.
His nurse asked that I see him in two weeks to get the staples off.
It was painless when the nurse took the staples out. The wound was healing nicely. But I asked that she bandaged it loosely (I was going into the office and later do a spot of shopping) instead of spraying alcohol after the staples were taken out.

The surgeon asked that I gradually wean myself off the arm sling but advised that I used it when I’m in public. “So people will not run into you,” he said.
He didn’t prescribed physiotherapy, saying that he was confident I would be able to exercise on my own, but asked that I undertake light exercises first. “The plate may pop out,” he said. I wasn’t sure if he was joking there.
The arm sling was my trusted accessory.
I wore it one and a half months after the surgery.
I didn’t have problems getting into and out of the Baju Kurung. But I needed help with the tudung as I needed both hands to pin it into style. And one time, I was using the instant shawl but gave up on it because the Syrian instant tudung didn’t look good on me.
I started lifting heavy stuff six months after the surgery. I could still not lift my right arm fully back then.
And I wanted to travel again. Bali was beckoning me back for the third time. “Oh you can. My patients tell me that they didn’t have problems going through the security scanner,” the surgeon said when I asked him when I can start travelling again.
He didn’t tell me when I can start travelling but by looking at my appointments with him, I could actually start planning my holidays and assignments abroad.
Two months after the surgery, I took five days off from work to go to Bali. Then in October, I was in Germany for an assignment. In December, I took my niece and nephew to London and Paris.
Six months after the surgery, I went to see the surgeon for what I thought could be the last time. I said this because at the visit, he had talked about taking the plate out.
“That soon? It was like yesterday you operated on me,” I told the surgeon.
No aches. No pain. In fact, I haven’t taken any of the painkillers he had prescribed me. There is no numbness of the fingers or the entire arm.
A year has since passed and I have my right arm back to normal.

Saturday, July 4, 2015

A YEAR AGO TODAY ... I'M BIONIC ... well, not even close!

There was phlegm in my throat. Lots of it. I couldn’t breathe.  I could hear the gurgling sound as the nurse used the suction to suck it out. Once it was cleared, I breathed in as deep as I could.
When I woke up, I was at the recovery room outside the operating theatre. I had an oxygen mask on. “Kenapa ni?” I asked the male nurse seated at the table next to me. “Kakak kurang oxygen,” he said. I asked him for the time.
Half an hour later, I was back in the room. It was 2.30pm. I was hooked up to the oxygen next to the bed. I asked the nurse how long I would have to be on it. “Sampai pukul lima atau enam. Kalau okay, tak payah guna lah.”
I had the oxygen mask on until about four.
My mother and brother’s family came at about 4.30pm. My niece will be spending the duration with me at the hospital.
The surgeon came right after to check on me. The surgery went well. He showed me the x-ray which showed where he placed the six inch plate and screws. He asked if I was in pain. I said no.
I asked him when I can be discharged. “Maybe tomorrow. We’ll see,” he said.
Well, I wasn't convinced that the doctor will let me out so soon. I anticipated a long stay there, maybe a week. 
That was why I agreed to go out with some friends to Mahbub at Bangsar the night before the surgery. I sought permission before I went out. The nurse checked with the doctor and I got the green light. I was reminded however not to eat anything after midnight. I stayed out until 2am.
So, beside the anesthetic, I was possibly tired from the night before that I was dozing in and out of sleep. 
My sister and her big family came after the break of fast. All of them were from JB. And my cousin and her family from Subang Jaya also dropped by. I caught snippets of their conversations. I don’t know when they all left.
The nurse came in at 9pm to administer antibiotics.
Early in the morning, the surgeon came for his rounds. He was surprised to see me awake. “Any pain?” he asked.
I told him I had a tough night because of stiff shoulders. He prescribed ice packs.
I asked again when I would be discharged. “Let’s wait a day or two.”
The entire time I was in the hospital I was flipping the television channels. I watched all the cooking shows (yes, our TV stations air at least two cooking shows, one in the morning and the other in the afternoon) and serial dramas.
The surgeon suggested I finished the antibiotics first before I can be discharged. A day before I was actually allowed to leave the hospital he asked, “Why do you want to go home so fast?” I told him I’ve run out of television shows to watch!
He signed me out the next day after the last antibiotics was administered.
I continued to be on leave until after Raya.
When I saw him at his clinic after the Raya holidays, he asked if I want to be on extended medical leave. I was bored staying at home. Even with arm in sling, I went for terawih prayers. I actually went home for a few days. I went Raya shopping at KLCC with my niece and nephew. We went for break of fast outside.
“Doc, if I can go shopping, I can go to work.” He laughed.
* to be continued