“Outside the kitchen windows was a short length of metal tubing where our bamboo galah or tekkor had to be inserted to hang out our washed clothes to dry in the sunshine.
The galah will be heavy with wet clothes, someone grumbled. How are we going to have the strength to heave the pole out of the window and into the tubing without us falling out of the window?
Tak boleh! Tak boleh! Cannot! Cannot! I won’t be able to manage that lah, moaned old Cik Aminah. I think hanging clothes on my clothesline is much easier and safer.
It’s a case of getting the right knack to do it, said Miss Hong, though she wasn’t convincing. Here, I will show you…
It looks easy now, Cik Aminah said. But you don’t have any clothes on the pole yet. Especially wet clothes which are heavier!
“But of course, despite our grievances, we were also seduced by the fact that when we flicked a switch, light shone. We turned on a tap, and as if we had waved a wand, fresh drinking water flowed. If we moved here, our access to water would no longer be subjected to the whims of the torrid sun, or dry spells. The thought was beguiling. The gas cylinders lighted up the stoves with their ringed blue and orange flames. To think that we would not have to chop any more wood, scour for coals, or tolerate smelly kerosene to cook our meals was a welcome prospect.
“Miss Hong was quick to take advantage of our fascination with the electrical gadgets. She set up an ironing board and demonstrated how the electric iron worked.
Where do you put the hot coals? Cik Aminah asked.
No need for coals anymore lah, Miss Hong said. See, this is electric. Turn on the switch and the iron gets hot and just press it down on your clothes…
What? You don’t have to scorch a banana leaf anymore to make the iron glide properly? my mother, your great-grandmother, asked.
No need. No need, Miss Hong beamed. See! The bottom of the iron is so smooth already. No need to use banana leaf.
“More ‘wahs’. We nodded our heads in approval.
And best of all, Miss Hong convinced us, each household would have its own private bathroom and water closet, instead of having to share the common bathrooms and toilets with the neighbours.
“Imagine it! A private toilet to ourselves, not having to smell other people’s big jobs! The ceramic squat toilet was hygienic and clean, no sight of any soiled waste, cockroaches or rats. This was a luxury beyond our wildest dreams. If we were to own this private bathroom and toilet, it would be as if we had risen to the level of the wealthy. The flush system received the most attention and solicited the most glee. Cik Aminah, bent with age and arthritis, kept on flushing the loo, just to see the water flow like magic into the clean bowl and swirl down the drainpipe. She fingered the soft, luxurious toilet roll instead of the sheets which we used, cut out squares from discarded newspapers. When we had stood in the drizzle or rain in the village, our toilet squares used to get damp and when we wiped our bottoms with them, we ended up with newsprint all over our backsides! If we moved into these flats and use proper toilet roll, that would be a thing of the past!
Look at this! How marvellous! How clean compared to our jamban, Cik Aminah enthused. And when we’ve done our business, the water flows to take it all away! It’s a miracle. This is pure bliss.
“It was this more than anything that persuaded us we could live in this concrete block and forgo our seaside houses. I was thinking that I would not have to deal with little Anthony’s terror each time I had to take him to the jamban. He always feared that the rats scuttling below might climb up into the cubicle. He used to scream when the cockroaches ran blithely over his feet as he squatted.
Indeed, the officers said, glad there was some positive response. When you live in these flats, you won’t have to worry about rats, centipedes, cockroaches, grass snakes or pythons. Everything will be clean, dirt free and germ free. You won’t have to worry about ringworms permeating through your naked soles. You won’t have to be victims to cholera, malaria, typhoid, or other diseases caused by stagnant ponds, dried-up wells or unhygienic sanitation…
“It was an offer of paradise.
But we are jammed in on both sides! Pak Abdul groaned, thinking of his present home, with windows all around to let in the natural light, the verandahs wrapped around his house, to allow the sea breeze in, to circulate freely. The windows here are only at the front and back. The middle of the flat is shrouded in gloom!
“Miss Hong responded, Ah! That’s what the electric lights are for. Anytime when you need them. Twenty-four hours, seven days a week. You don’t need to wait for the generator to start. If you need some breeze, just switch on the electric fans. See…
“She demonstrated by switching on the light, and the naked overhead bulb glowed. She switched on the ceiling fan and the imitation breeze blew into our faces. But for us who had lived all our lives by the sea, something significant was missing. The smell of freshness and salt was absent from the air.
Because you have electricity, you can even buy yourself an ice-box so that you can keep your food safe. No more food rotting from the heat. No more ants crawling up the legs of the meat-safe…
Wah! A fridge! Incredible. Light, whenever we want it, young Rokiah beamed at the prospect. Plus, our hands won’t be calloused from the rope when drawing water from the well anymore! We won’t have to live with smelly jambans.
Yes, teenage
