LEFT BEHIND

 

I rang the doorbell, with a tray of homemade apple crumble in my hands. A kindly looking gentleman wearing a soft peak cap opened the door and ushered me into a room. 

A very familiar room where we used to drink coffee and exchanged stories. A room where I could admire the lovely green garden outside. She baked delicious  scones that we ate with freshly whipped cream and jam. I could still hear her laughter.

Now the table was laden with loads of interesting crafting bits. 

"You can take whatever you like, the rest I will give to charity." he said.

So I went through every box and every bag. Knitting wool, patchwork fabric, card making stuff and more. Finished projects. Unfinished projects. All up my alley. 

As I touched the fabric and every small thing I could feel the hands that once touched them. There was a bag of little woollen caps that she had knitted for preemies. She was there cradling every cap.

After a while, he came back into the room and gave me a box to put the stuff in and then walked me to the door. I gave him a hug and he asked me, 

"Can I put the apple crumble in the microwave?" he asked.

"Yes, scoop whatever you want and put it on a plate and warm it up in the microwave. Do not put the whole aluminum tray into it." I replied.

I bade him goodbye and when he was out of sight, I cried and cried all the way home. 

WALKING DOWN NOSTALGIC BOULEVARD

It is very strange when lovely images of our childhood pop up when we least expect it. How long these images have been locked in the recesses of my brain amazes me. The best part is I can always check with my siblings regarding the authenticity of such memories as more often than not we share the same memories.

What is childhood without books?

When Mike showed me the youtube video of Paul McCartney's The Frog Chorus, I was over the moon. Then suddenly, amidst the frogs croaking there was Rupert the Bear appearing from behind the foliage. This is one bear that I'm all too familiar with.

My brother had an Annual and I used to pore over it with delight. There was this scene where Rupert and his younger visiting cousin (I think) were standing under a soursop tree. And the little one took a bite of a ripe soursop and said it was sour! I laughed because obviously the writer must not have tasted a ripe soursop because it is the most glorious and sweetest fruit ever! I was only 6 then and already engaged in critical analysis.

Another wondrous book that he had was the Story of Little Black Sambo who went into the forest in his Sunday best only to be accosted by 4 angry tigers.

 Finally in an effort to ditch them Sambo climbed up a tree. The four tigers chased each other around the tree. The midday heat was simply unbearable so the tigers melted and became tiger butter. That is hilarious!

So Sambo's mother Mumbo collected the butter and made pancakes. The pancakes were most delicious and Jumbo (Sambo's father), Mumbo and Sambo tucked in happily with Sambo eating the most. (mumbo jumbo - political correctness was virtually absent then)

So imagine my delight when I found fudge at the Galway Christmas market that is named tiger butter fudge!

The next category of good memories is food. Malaysians generally love food and get very creative over food. In fact, we often go for long drives just to taste some special cuisine. We not only love food, we love to cook too.

When it is cold outside, I feel peckish. So I think of food. Not any type of food but food connected with certain occasions. Who can forget yesteryear's Quality Street Sweets?

And when our father brought us to the cinema he would buy us a packet of Peanut treets. We could also choose the cut fruits that were displayed on a block of ice. Ivory coloured apple or pear halves, sometimes oxidised at the edges. Each piece of fruit had a toothpick jabbed into it.

 Then when we were sick, we would get a special treat. Mum would buy us golden puffs or Bluebird chocolate toffee and that really aided recovery and brought such comfort to the sorry soul.

I guess the memory that captivates me most is the prized turkey or was it the goose? I can't remember. Anyway someone gave us a big fowl, as big as the one in the window in Mr Scrooge's village. We had no oven then, so we brought the fowl to the local restaurateur and he agreed to roast it for us. After 4 hours, a few of us sisters walked down to the restaurant to collect the turkey. It wasn't quite ready yet but what a sight! It was a huge brick oven with an open fire and the chef was generously basting it  with rich thick sauce. The aroma was like heaven and that was how I remembered the whole episode.

It's funny how different present day cookie tins or food tastes like. I'm glad that I'm ancient enough to have enjoyed what is vintage and what is now.

SONGS AND MEMORIES OF THE PAST

When Fran Molloy tagged me on facebook, inviting me to post a picture of 

favourite album,I simply couldn’t decide on which one. The game was such that 

I had to tag other friends to invite them to post the same as well.

Finally, I settled for Romanza which is Andrea Bocelli’s first compilation released

internationally in 1997. It means a lot to me because that’s the beginning of my 

foray into the world of Italian classical tenors. 

Needless to say, that invitation sent me into music overdrive so to speak. 

Inevitably, I walked down the hallways of the past as I listened to my all time favourites 

of the 80s and 90s. 

Believe me, it was not only nostalgic but totally refreshing as images flood the brain and 

soul, especially when I hadn’t heard those songs for years.

Great songs carry great memories. I guess that’s why much research has been done on 

music-evoked autobiographical memories. (MEAMS)

So I started to check out you-tube and as if the site could read my mind, there was 

a whole list of familiar songs.

One of my hot favourites is That’s why (you go away) by Michael Learns To Rock. 

(MLTR) When I heard it in the 90s, there was no you-tube then and I never saw

the video clip. Now that I can see the images, I thought it is so clever how the lyrics

are juxtaposed with the images.

Songs by MLTR, Alphaville, Blue, Toto and Westlife  remind me of the fun we had

in the classroom. Using music to teach the English language gives students a break 

from grammar and more grammar.

My students were ever so creative and would come up with enactments of the lyrics 

of the songs. They put in great effort and would even create their own props. There was

a group that sang ‘Lemon Tree’ by Fool’s Garden and they actually brought a

tree trunk into the classroom with handmade paper lemons dangling 

from the branches.

Another beautiful song is ‘Cat’s in the Cradle’ by Harry Chapin where a father has no 

time for his young son- only to discover that the son as an adult no longer has time for

him. I remember vividly how a group of students performed this song in four distinct

 acts with different students playing the roles of the child, the ten year old, the college 

student and the father as an old man. I thought it was spectacular. I still have the video 

cassette of that performance and since I no longer have the player, I will convert that

 to a compact disc.

Thanks to the internet, I am now able to see the different layers of meaning behind the 

lyrics. Take ‘Big in Japan’ by Alphaville for example. In the 80s, I thought that it was 

about hopeful  musicians making it big in Japan. But now I know it is also about a young

couple trying to live and love without substance abuse. The venue of the song 

incidentally is Berlin Zoo and  the fact that I have been to the zoo twice makes it even

more special.

I also never knew that ’Forever Young’ by the same group was written during the

Cold War, where the singer is ‘hoping for the best, but expecting the worst; are you

gonna  drop the bomb or not?

When we hear a very familiar song from the past, somehow the location, the people and 

the season associated with that song appear vividly in the mind’s eye. Not unlike

how smells and tastes evoke memories as well.

I had just baked an apple tart due to the overabundance of apples on my tree. 

My daughter took a whiff of the tart and told me it reminded her of the same tart 

that used to be sold in church for fund-raising when she was still in her primary 

school years. She remembered that I steered her away from the  table because money 

was tight then and buying that tart would be a luxury. 

I had clean forgotten that episode but she remembered it well. 

Different circumstances in a different time zone.

And it’s not only the past that songs and images evoke.

I know when I visit Africa next year, images of Tarzan swinging from tree to tree and 

Toto’s Africa will have a heyday in my mind.

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PRINTED IN THE NEW STRAITS TIMES MALAYSIA 18 SEPTEMBER 2016  http://digital.nstp.com.my/nst/books/160918nstnews/index.html#/23/