Monday, January 19, 2004
( I'll be editing this post constantly, and I will highlight additions in italics for the moment, so feel free to reread, coz it ain't completed yet. )
I was going through old photos with my mom when I got hold of a photo of dad when he was my age and on a training course in Melbourne. There he was, standing in the South Lawn of melb uni, a place where I usually had my lunch, 24 years ago. The excitment of his new surrounds, the longing for his love who was seperated by miles of land and sea, and the anticipation of the years to come were all deeply set in his benign smile. It was the start of his life away from the comfort of his family and an opportunity for exploration. I caught a glance of his youthful enthusiasm, the playful nature that all teenagers exuded in pictures. In his place, 24 years down the line, his daughter once again walks the very same grounds, pondering about her own future, going through the rigours of education and training in hopes of paving her own future like her father before her. I found myself pondering about how he felt at that point of time. Did he miss home as much as I did ? He definitely was pining for my mother cause the photo was address to her with a msg which I never got to read because she snatched it from my hands. :) Did he ride the same trams I did and hang out on Bridge road like I do? It was all rather unnerving.
His childhood was an undiscovered enigma. I always knew that my dad had a rather harsh childhood, growing up without a father and with very little money. But I never really had the opportunity and time to discover how this man I love and respect so much came to be the person he was today.
My family tree is one of the most complex and confusing structures around. I have tried, on numerous occasions, to explain it to friends but most of them just give up trying to understand me. My grandfather was a village headsman ( I think) in the village of Anxi, in Fujian, China. At that time, the Communist were trying to draft the village men into the army and it was my grandpa's duty to enlist the men in the village. But hard times made it impossible to tear the menfolk away from their improvisished families and their land which had been wrecked by years of war and civil strife. Disenchanted with life, and feeling the guilt of having to seperate friends from their loved ones, my grandpa decided to go overseas to seek his fortunes and give his family a better life. Biding his wife and 4 children farewell, he sailed to Malacca to seek his father, who had set up a rice trading business. After working with his father for a few years, grandpa moved his business to penang. He rented a room in a crumbling shophouse on Beach Street. Occupying one of the rooms of the shophouse was my grandmother, who was newly widowed with her son and living with her husbands family who stayed in the very same shophouse. And so it was that this dilapidated and dark shophouse on the narrow street became the backdrop of my family saga.
My grandfather fell deathly ill from overwork as he struggled to set up his business. My grandmother was at that time working as a washerwoman to make ends meet. But despite her heavy workload, she took on the responsiblity of nursing my grandpa back to health. And as they say, the rest is history. He fell in love with her, a hardworking, brave girl left alone in the bustling island town of Penang with the death of her husband. He decided to marry her and repay her kindness by giving her back the security of a family life that was tragically wrenched from her. But there was one hiccup, his wife in China had gotten wind of the news and wasn't too happy about her husband taking on another wife. Armed with her children, she made her way down to Penang to try and dissuade him. I wondered out loud how it was possible to love two women at one go and still keep the household bickering to a minimum. My dad replied that his father ruled the household in a no-nonsence, typical china man fashion. Everyone was kept in their place, checked by a strict command and their dependence on his role as the sole bread winner of the family. Both women also held their peace because of their common love and affection for their husband. Grandfather explained to his wife that he had married my grandmother not only because he loved her, but because he owed his life to her. Upon hearing this, my step grandma's hurt and jealously melted into a grudging gratitude for my grandma. ANd as time went by and she settled into the house, the two women grew to love and respect each other as sisters and they remained close for the rest of their lives.
My dad was born into a household with numerous siblings. 4 boys from my step grandma and 3 boys and a girl from my grandma. In addition, his mother's first husband's family was also occupying the same premises and he called the children in the other family "brothers and sisters" out of respect. He was a born sportsman and spent many days running around his father's farm grounds. ON one occasion, he was being chased by his half brother and he ran straight into a pond which was disguised by numerous lily pads. For one moment he was merrily racing around, and the next, he was wondering where the ground had disappeared to. LUckily his half brother ran for help and one of his other brothers pulled my dad, sputtering and drenched, out of the pond.
HIs father died when my dad was at the tender age of 7. One night, after the family had a hearty meal, my grandpa settled into the chair in the living room to read the papers when he suddenly stiffened and fell out of his seat. He died of a heart attack at the age of 50 odd, leaving behind a large family. My uncles were working as labourers and had to fend for their own families. The task of raising the large household fell onto the shoulders of my 3rd uncle or sah Beh as we called him.
Sah Beh was a man in his late twenties who worked alongside his brothers as a labourer. But behind his well muscled and tan exterior lay a determined head and a shrewd business mind. He was denied a formal education but his intelligence helped him pave the way to financial success. He started an egg business. He began selling eggs, lugging the crates on foot. His money was divided among his halfsiblings who were still at a tender age and his mother and step mom. From there, he bought himself a bike and increased his sales. Slowly, agonisingly, he clawed his way up the social ladder. He built himself a business empire selling furniture and eggs and he took care of his family. Even till today, he is the father figure of the Tan family and my dad looks up to him more than any other member in his clan. I recall his words when I told him I was going to med school. Instead of the usual gushing about my ability, he looked at me and said ," It is good that you have the opportunity to help people, but when people cannot afford your services, you should still help them all the same. " His words lay the deepest impression on me. He was a man of wealth, but he never forgot his humble beginnings.
Even though his brothers and sister have grown up , he still looks after everyone. THe whole family helps him run his business. When my family returns to Penang, he takes it upon himself to ensure that we have a place to stay and a car to use. Queerly enough, he seemed to take a liking to me, though I saw him like once a year and couldn't speak a decent sentence of hokkien, something he would always berate my father about. He often invited me to seat with him and my father in his private room and there, he would unfurl pages of our family history. With a lots of help from my dad, I managed to make sense of his Hokkien, thick with a mainland chinese accent. He would often remind me of the need to understand and remember my roots. He would take my family to the Tan clan house to pay our respects to our ancestors. And there, he would proudly point out his children's photographs which hung among those who graduated from universities. "One day," he told me. " You could be up there. Keep working hard. "
My grandma had been adamant about putting my father in an english school. My grandfather had been aghast by her decision. He was a Chinese, he would never allow his son to be educated in a foreign language. But my grandma was firm. " All your children are chinese educated, " she pleaded. " Why not try one in an english school. " Seeing my grandfather's resolve wavering, she tossed her trump card. " He's the youngest and your last son, there is no harm in trying something different."
I was going through old photos with my mom when I got hold of a photo of dad when he was my age and on a training course in Melbourne. There he was, standing in the South Lawn of melb uni, a place where I usually had my lunch, 24 years ago. The excitment of his new surrounds, the longing for his love who was seperated by miles of land and sea, and the anticipation of the years to come were all deeply set in his benign smile. It was the start of his life away from the comfort of his family and an opportunity for exploration. I caught a glance of his youthful enthusiasm, the playful nature that all teenagers exuded in pictures. In his place, 24 years down the line, his daughter once again walks the very same grounds, pondering about her own future, going through the rigours of education and training in hopes of paving her own future like her father before her. I found myself pondering about how he felt at that point of time. Did he miss home as much as I did ? He definitely was pining for my mother cause the photo was address to her with a msg which I never got to read because she snatched it from my hands. :) Did he ride the same trams I did and hang out on Bridge road like I do? It was all rather unnerving.
His childhood was an undiscovered enigma. I always knew that my dad had a rather harsh childhood, growing up without a father and with very little money. But I never really had the opportunity and time to discover how this man I love and respect so much came to be the person he was today.
My family tree is one of the most complex and confusing structures around. I have tried, on numerous occasions, to explain it to friends but most of them just give up trying to understand me. My grandfather was a village headsman ( I think) in the village of Anxi, in Fujian, China. At that time, the Communist were trying to draft the village men into the army and it was my grandpa's duty to enlist the men in the village. But hard times made it impossible to tear the menfolk away from their improvisished families and their land which had been wrecked by years of war and civil strife. Disenchanted with life, and feeling the guilt of having to seperate friends from their loved ones, my grandpa decided to go overseas to seek his fortunes and give his family a better life. Biding his wife and 4 children farewell, he sailed to Malacca to seek his father, who had set up a rice trading business. After working with his father for a few years, grandpa moved his business to penang. He rented a room in a crumbling shophouse on Beach Street. Occupying one of the rooms of the shophouse was my grandmother, who was newly widowed with her son and living with her husbands family who stayed in the very same shophouse. And so it was that this dilapidated and dark shophouse on the narrow street became the backdrop of my family saga.
My grandfather fell deathly ill from overwork as he struggled to set up his business. My grandmother was at that time working as a washerwoman to make ends meet. But despite her heavy workload, she took on the responsiblity of nursing my grandpa back to health. And as they say, the rest is history. He fell in love with her, a hardworking, brave girl left alone in the bustling island town of Penang with the death of her husband. He decided to marry her and repay her kindness by giving her back the security of a family life that was tragically wrenched from her. But there was one hiccup, his wife in China had gotten wind of the news and wasn't too happy about her husband taking on another wife. Armed with her children, she made her way down to Penang to try and dissuade him. I wondered out loud how it was possible to love two women at one go and still keep the household bickering to a minimum. My dad replied that his father ruled the household in a no-nonsence, typical china man fashion. Everyone was kept in their place, checked by a strict command and their dependence on his role as the sole bread winner of the family. Both women also held their peace because of their common love and affection for their husband. Grandfather explained to his wife that he had married my grandmother not only because he loved her, but because he owed his life to her. Upon hearing this, my step grandma's hurt and jealously melted into a grudging gratitude for my grandma. ANd as time went by and she settled into the house, the two women grew to love and respect each other as sisters and they remained close for the rest of their lives.
My dad was born into a household with numerous siblings. 4 boys from my step grandma and 3 boys and a girl from my grandma. In addition, his mother's first husband's family was also occupying the same premises and he called the children in the other family "brothers and sisters" out of respect. He was a born sportsman and spent many days running around his father's farm grounds. ON one occasion, he was being chased by his half brother and he ran straight into a pond which was disguised by numerous lily pads. For one moment he was merrily racing around, and the next, he was wondering where the ground had disappeared to. LUckily his half brother ran for help and one of his other brothers pulled my dad, sputtering and drenched, out of the pond.
HIs father died when my dad was at the tender age of 7. One night, after the family had a hearty meal, my grandpa settled into the chair in the living room to read the papers when he suddenly stiffened and fell out of his seat. He died of a heart attack at the age of 50 odd, leaving behind a large family. My uncles were working as labourers and had to fend for their own families. The task of raising the large household fell onto the shoulders of my 3rd uncle or sah Beh as we called him.
Sah Beh was a man in his late twenties who worked alongside his brothers as a labourer. But behind his well muscled and tan exterior lay a determined head and a shrewd business mind. He was denied a formal education but his intelligence helped him pave the way to financial success. He started an egg business. He began selling eggs, lugging the crates on foot. His money was divided among his halfsiblings who were still at a tender age and his mother and step mom. From there, he bought himself a bike and increased his sales. Slowly, agonisingly, he clawed his way up the social ladder. He built himself a business empire selling furniture and eggs and he took care of his family. Even till today, he is the father figure of the Tan family and my dad looks up to him more than any other member in his clan. I recall his words when I told him I was going to med school. Instead of the usual gushing about my ability, he looked at me and said ," It is good that you have the opportunity to help people, but when people cannot afford your services, you should still help them all the same. " His words lay the deepest impression on me. He was a man of wealth, but he never forgot his humble beginnings.
Even though his brothers and sister have grown up , he still looks after everyone. THe whole family helps him run his business. When my family returns to Penang, he takes it upon himself to ensure that we have a place to stay and a car to use. Queerly enough, he seemed to take a liking to me, though I saw him like once a year and couldn't speak a decent sentence of hokkien, something he would always berate my father about. He often invited me to seat with him and my father in his private room and there, he would unfurl pages of our family history. With a lots of help from my dad, I managed to make sense of his Hokkien, thick with a mainland chinese accent. He would often remind me of the need to understand and remember my roots. He would take my family to the Tan clan house to pay our respects to our ancestors. And there, he would proudly point out his children's photographs which hung among those who graduated from universities. "One day," he told me. " You could be up there. Keep working hard. "
My grandma had been adamant about putting my father in an english school. My grandfather had been aghast by her decision. He was a Chinese, he would never allow his son to be educated in a foreign language. But my grandma was firm. " All your children are chinese educated, " she pleaded. " Why not try one in an english school. " Seeing my grandfather's resolve wavering, she tossed her trump card. " He's the youngest and your last son, there is no harm in trying something different."
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