Nyonya Janice Wee reminisces halcyon times growing up at Rambai Road in Katong
Splish splash splosh.
Little globs of water glistened in the filtered light.
I sat, safe and dry in my grandpa’s house in Rambai Road, watching the blobs of water merge until they became so heavy that they slid down the glass pane.
The radio played BBC News Channel in the background. My aunt would strum her guitar and sing. In the late afternoon, Ah Kong will take out the big tin of biscuits and we’d have tea with biscuits.
Those are my vague memories growing up in Katong.
An only child, I was lonely. My parents, grandparents and uncles doted on me. I still remember See Chek drawing a picture of a cat. He penciled fine lines like cat’s fur with a myriad of colours. I was fascinated how green, orange and some other colours put together made his drawing look so real.
Mama only knew Malay, so my Ah Kong taught me enough Malay to get by. He’d speak to me in English. The only exception was when he handed me his recipes.
He was an amazing cook. When I asked, he gave me the entire recipes – ingredients, directions – the works – in Malay.
These didn’t include standard measurements. It was “a handful of this, a pinch of that, just enough this, a bit more of that”. Yet his cooking was always perfect.
His chicken wings were amazing. According to my mum, that was the only thing I’d eat each day. I beg to differ. I still recall the Mars Bars cut into quarters sitting in the fridge, which I’d coax him into letting me eat.
Daddy and Mummy were both teachers. After school, they spent lots of time with me. I had everything a girl could ever want, except a companion my age to play with. I nagged my parents for a sister. Mum hired an older girl to play with me. I only found out years later that she was paid to be my friend.
Finally, my sister was born. Initially, I was ecstatic. Then I realized we couldn’t communicate. I could speak English, Malay, and an adulterated form of Teo Chew. But “ga ga goo goo”?
She was adorable though. I loved her dearly, both then and now. Unfortunately, a six-year age gap takes decades to bridge. We led separate lives. She had her friends her age, I had mine, but at the end of the day, we have each other’s backs.
She’s grown up, as have I. We have much more in common now as the years march on. My baby sister is my confidante.
