The Woman Who Breathed Two Worlds

by Siak Chin Yoke, Selina

  We sat in silence, my son and I, me taking air in slow, laboured gulps, while he looked on, his hands around mine. I savoured the warmth of those hands, hands which had formed inside my own belly. Thanking Kuan Yin for answering my prayer, I wept.

  After I regained a little strength, I asked Weng Yu what was happening in the world. I heard that the war had taken another turn: the Japanese had just attacked an American port; now no one knew what would come next. There was despair in Weng Yu’s voice. He told me things could get worse; everyone was worried the Japanese would attack Malaya.

  I paused to take in the vision on a chair, of a man with the hint of dimples on his cheeks. I thought of Peng Choon, the husband who had helped make my life in Malaya what it was.

  ‘Japan boys come here is fate. Use your brain, Big Son, work hard. Your life you can change. Some things you cannot change. They are fate.’

  With those words I turned away from the sad eyes of my little prince and looked out of the window. In the distance were my beloved hills, blue from the shimmering heat.

  EPILOGUE

  Hours after my mother-in-law passed away, Malaya entered a state of war. Overnight Japanese forces landed on a beach in the north-east of the country. No one knew what would happen next, and we scrambled to make arrangements as best we could. Despite the turmoil, crowds gathered for the three-day wake, which was presided over by wailing priests, who beat a gong every hour. In keeping with the air of mourning, my sister-in-law Dora made wokfuls of Nyonya kueh in all colours except red.

  At the funeral, traffic in Ipoh stopped, just as it had when my mother-in-law’s good friend Siew Lan McPherson was sent off years previously. Beneath the shadow of weeping needles, part dragon, part lion, carved into the rock she had so loved, hundreds paid their respects to the matriarch who had brought Nyonya kueh to town. Even her rival, the woman known as Heng Lai Soh, came, full of tears and sorrow.

  My husband sobbed inconsolably. He had been with his mother when she took her last breath, had held those hands, calloused by toil. ‘Mama would have given her life for me,’ he said with voice breaking, ‘yet for too long . . . I was ashamed of her.’ The recollection burnt his cheeks. He was full of her stories – we all were, because in death she loomed even larger than in life. For once my husband regretted the mah-jong and cards that had tempted him, instead honouring the Chinese ancestors who had arrived in boats with eyes painted on their prows.

  When my turn came, I recalled a story my mother-in-law had told our daughter Lai Hin. It featured Hang Tuah, the warrior with the magic sword whose courage had always inspired Mama.

  Hang Tuah served many Sultans of Malacca over the course of his life. The final ruler had sent him to Mount Ledang, home to a beautiful princess the Sultan wanted to marry. Mount Ledang was a haven in the clouds which the princess had no wish to leave. Not wanting to embarrass the ruler, the princess gave Hang Tuah a list of the gifts the Sultan would have to bestow. She asked for a golden bridge to link Malacca with her home in the clouds, a bowl of blood drawn from the Sultan’s firstborn son and seven jars of virgins’ tears.

  Hang Tuah knew that these wishes could never be fulfilled. The taste of failure was bitter; the warrior fell on his knees and wept, howling so loudly that everyone around him ran away. Unable to face his Sultan, Hang Tuah never returned to Malacca. With a tremendous roar, he flung his magical keris into a nearby river before disappearing into thin air, never to be seen again.

  My mother-in-law told this story repeatedly in her later years, perhaps imagining her soul rising like Hang Tuah’s. She believed we each had power, if only we could harness it. ‘We also have magic sword,’ she insisted. ‘Just must find first.’

  Unlike Hang Tuah, my mother-in-law succeeded in her final mission on earth. I shall never know whether she realised that others had helped to repay my husband’s debts, most of all the old man known as the patriarch. The effort had been collective, but Mama remained its driving force to the end.

  Throughout the cremation, a cooling breeze blew, as if even Ipoh’s hills were bidding the grand old lady farewell. She would have loved this touch of mountain air – ‘breath of the gods’, she had always called it.

  Our lives changed after she passed away. Barely a week later, before we even had time to sort through her belongings, Japanese bombs fell over Ipoh. They looked innocent in their downward drift, like a series of eggs floating from the blue skies. But once they touched the ground, they shook the earth with a force we had never known. Those droplets ushered in a less gentle age, which I’m so glad my mother-in-law was spared.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  The main character in this novel was inspired by my feisty Nyonya great-grandmother, whom sadly I never met. She was much discussed in our family and I am indebted to my mother, Chin Fee Lan, for the stories she told me when I was growing up. What my mother said made me yearn to find out more. This novel is one of the results.

  This story took a year to write and another year to edit. I carried out extensive research in Malaysia, where I was hosted by family members who agreed to be interviewed. Aunts, uncles and cousins spent many hours with me. In the process they revealed family secrets which fed my imagination, thus allowing me to create a richer tapestry of characters. Though I cannot mention everyone by name, I must especially thank Aunt Chin Mei Leng and Uncle Foo Khong Yee for putting up with me for months, when I ate too much and was unsociable. Not only was my aunt a reader of early drafts, but she was also my chief investigating officer, connecting me to anyone whom she thought could help. Then there was Aunt Lorna Chin, who invited me to her restaurant, Sri Nyonya, in Petaling Jaya, where she showed me how to make some of the kueh described in this book using old family recipes.

  My late grand-uncle Chin Kee Onn was the first writer in our family. The same matriarch inspired his novel Twilight of the Nyonyas, on which I have drawn for colourful details about Nyonya weddings. I am also grateful to Dr Ho Tak Ming for his authoritative tome When Tin Was King, which tells the history of Ipoh, my home town. Dr Ho’s book, as well as his time and patience with my questions, made my research much easier.

  As with any debut novelist, I relied on plenty of beta readers. Thank you to Oksana Kunichek, Kirstin Zhang, Alex Catherwood, Nadine Leavitt and SJ Butler for reading parts or all of this manuscript and for the feedback you gave. If I have forgotten anyone, I apologise; the omission is unintentional.

  My developmental editor, Nathalie Teitler, helped me grow from being a first-time writer who had never written fiction to the author of an epic family saga. She was instrumental in helping me shape this story; my novel would certainly have been poorer without her.

  My agent, Thomas Colchie, and his wife, Elaine, were the first people in the publishing world who were excited by my manuscript. Thank you for remaining undaunted and for not giving up the search for a publisher.

  When I disclosed at writing workshops how long my debut novel was going to be, there were gasps of disbelief. I would like to thank Amazon Crossing, and especially my editor, Elizabeth DeNoma, and her team for choosing this story, for their belief and their support.

  Last but not least, a very big thank you to Svetlana Omelchenko: first reader, trusted critic and muse to whom I owe too many creative ideas to count.

  GLOSSARY

  • Air well Open-air courtyard found inside many traditional shophouses and houses.

  • Amah Servant whose primary responsibility is to look after one or more children.

  • Ang moh Red-haired person or Caucasian.

  • Angkoo A type of Nyonya kueh.

  • Attap Thatched roof that used to be seen on Malay-style wooden houses.

  • Baba Male descendant of Chinese traders who settled in South East Asia with local women.

  • Baju panjang Long tunic, usually worn with a sarong.

  • Barlay A raised wooden platform popular in older Chinese homes for sitting on or sleeping.

  • Batek Beautifully patterned cloth that is t
raditionally dyed manually.

  • Belukar Cleared land which has reverted to jungle.

  • Betel nut Seed of the areca palm. A stimulant, it is chewed and traditionally offered to guests.

  • Bidan Malay midwife.

  • Brinjal Aubergine or eggplant.

  • Catty (s), catties (p) Traditional Chinese measure of weight equal to 604 grams.

  • Champor-champor A mixed bag.

  • Chapalang Slang with negative connotations for a person of mixed race.

  • Chiak pa boey? Literally ‘Have you eaten?’ (Hokkien). Traditional Chinese greeting meaning ‘How are you?’

  • Chiao-Ling Jiaoling.

  • Chiki Nyonya game. Similar to mah-jong but uses cards.

  • Chiku Sapodilla fruit.

  • Chin-chuoh Marriage in which the bridegroom moves in with the bride’s family.

  • Curry Kapitan A thick chicken curry with plenty of chillies and coconut.

  • Dying person’s head Chinese curse phrase.

  • Ee Maternal aunt.

  • Erhu Southern fiddle; also known as the Chinese violin.

  • Fatt shi Taoist priest.

  • Five-foot way Open verandah in front of shophouses. Usually five feet wide.

  • Good heart Exclamation equivalent to ‘Good gracious!’

  • Green pea Mung beans.

  • Gula melaka Palm sugar, often in syrup form, made by boiling the sap of the palm tree.

  • Gunong Mountain (Malay).

  • Hokkien The dialect of Chinese from the Fukien Province in South China.

  • Ice kachang Dessert of beans, jelly, syrup, peanuts and condensed milk on crushed ice.

  • Kachang Peanuts.

  • Kampong Malay village.

  • Kamsia ‘Thank you’ (Hokkien).

  • Kangkong Water spinach or convolvulus.

  • Keris A curved dagger used by Malay warriors.

  • Kling Person of Indian descent. The term is considered pejorative and no longer used.

  • Kong-kong Maternal grandfather.

  • Kuan Yin The Goddess of Mercy.

  • Kuay-teow Flat rice noodles.

  • Kueh Cake.

  • Kwangtong Guangdong.

  • Laksa A noodle dish in a spicy soup base with prawns or chicken.

  • Lalang A type of weed.

  • Mah-jong Game traditionally played by four players for money using tiles.

  • Makche Aunt (Malay).

  • Menangkabau Matrilineal culture in Western Sumatra famous for its fierce women.

  • Nasi lemak Malay dish comprising coconut rice, sambal, cucumber, egg and peanuts.

  • Ngi ho? ‘How are you?’ (Hakka).

  • Ngi cho ma kai? ‘What are you doing?’ (Hakka).

  • Night soil Human excrement.

  • Nyonya Female descendant of Chinese traders who settled in South East Asia with local women.

  • Orang Asli Generic term for the indigenous aboriginal peoples of Malaysia.

  • Otak-otak Nyonya dish of parcels of fish in a creamy paste, wrapped in banana leaves and steamed.

  • Padang Playing field.

  • Pak Maternal uncle (Cantonese) or uncle (Malay).

  • Pekalongan City on the northern coast of central Java, Indonesia, famous for its batek.

  • Petai A bean with a distinctive taste and smell, popular in South East Asia.

  • Picul Unit of weight in South East Asia equal to one hundred catties, or approximately 60.4 kilograms.

  • Pinang The Malay word for the betel nut or areca nut palm tree.

  • Po-po Maternal grandmother.

  • Puan Malay for ‘Mrs’.

  • Pulut Glutinous rice (Malay).

  • Rempah udang Type of savoury Nyonya kueh featuring prawns in a spicy paste.

  • Rickshaw A vehicle with a hood capable of seating two, pulled by a running coolie.

  • Sah Kim Third maternal aunt (Hokkien).

  • Sah Koo Third maternal uncle (Hokkien).

  • Sambal Spicy paste made of dried shrimp used as condiment or cooking base.

  • Samfoo A blouse and pair of loose trousers worn by Chinese women.

  • Sampan A small passenger boat made of wood.

  • Sarong Large tube of fabric worn around the waist by men and women.

  • Sarong kebaya Intricate top worn by Malay women, usually of sheer material, with sarong.

  • Sau Hakka for ‘Mrs’.

  • Sayang ‘Love’ (Malay).

  • Selamat pagi ‘Good morning’ (Malay).

  • Seri muka Type of Nyonya kueh with an olive-green top and glutinous rice base.

  • Sinkeh A newly arrived Chinese immigrant.

  • Siow-chia ‘Miss’ (Hokkien or Hakka).

  • Sireh set Set that contained all paraphernalia required for betel nut chewing.

  • Soh Cantonese or Hokkien for ‘Mrs’.

  • Sui-hak An agent who recruited labour in South China.

  • Swatow Shantou.

  • Tai Fatt Shi Head priest.

  • Tai-tai ‘Madam’ or ‘mistress’.

  • Tau foo Tofu.

  • Toa Pek Eldest paternal uncle (Hokkien).

  • Toa Mm Eldest paternal aunt (Hokkien).

  • Towkay Chinese word for ‘boss’, taken to mean a rich tycoon.

  • Tsin-sang Cantonese or Hakka for ‘Mr’.

  • Tuan ‘Sir’ or ‘master’ (Malay).

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Photo © 2014 AM London

  Of Malaysian-Chinese heritage, Selina Siak Chin Yoke grew up listening to family stories and ancient legends, always knowing that one day she would write. After an eclectic life as a theoretical physicist, investment banker and trader in London, the heavens intervened. In 2009, Chin Yoke was diagnosed with cancer, the second major illness she had to battle. While recovering, she decided not to delay her dream of writing any longer. She is currently working on her second book and also writes a blog about Malaysia at www.chinyoke.wordpress.com.