Awang Goneng's Blog, page 2

Pök Téng Rises to the Occasion

Diary of Pök Téng II (as faithfully recorded by Tuang Wingsteak)
24th December, 1951
Photo of monsoonal coast courtesy of Ajidul.
Kalu tèngök ggining bumi Teganung ning buléh tahang jugök luahnya. Dari Tanjong ke aröh Ladang tu napök pohong ppisang tinggi lönjöng, pohong mminja dok nnari ddalang anging. Napök sura Tok Sheikh, Sura Besör, Sura Haji Mat Litör, rumöh cikgu Khalid dekat jambang ija.

Tanjong ning lèpèr rupanya, bila seperöng betol-betol baru napök Bukit Besör jaoh sayuk, sebelöh sana Masjid Putéh. Napök Kapong Ttani sebelöh Kölang, kubor luah sapa ke Sekölöh Paya Bunga. Pah tu sebelöh ning sekali lagi ada napök Tanjong Kapor, Tanjong Batu Satu, Tanjong Paya - besör jugök Tanjong ning - barulah napök Ladang sikik lepah könar batu satu.

Sebelöh Keda Payang napök pasör, pah tu balék sana nung ada Kapong China. Tu töh Mat Ppala Kerah dok jjalang kèdèk-kedek nujju ke aröh panggong Mak Ming. Banyök sunggoh pohong, banyök sunggoh orang dok jjalang gi mari. Ppala kita mmusing sikik, kelabu mata, tapi kena wak mmölèk ning sebab kalu jatoh gölök ning bbawöh nyanyelah sape-sape hök kena ddamör ppala.

Kita serabuk perok sunggoh hari ning, kalu kira ggitu dök buat setarang kerja ggining. Awang kite tu takdök kerija setarang habok tapi dok agah nök bbining. Kita dok wak dök je, tapi napök nye macang galök pulök sari dua ning, nye dok nnèwö keliling rumöh Mèk Jènak tu, macang kucing jatoh anök, nye hungga ssana hungga ssining, nök keléh jugok budök ttina garék tu. Hör, tu dia dok ddiri ccacang ddepang sasör rumöh mèk tu, kerising kerinyih dok ccakak apa dök taulah, suka gelèkèk dua-dua orang, takdök aröh nök kata. Awang kita pong dok wak jangöklah sökmö, bböjèng rambok apa serba, sapa kkelik macang lapu nye buboh minyök. Baju tu dök söh nök katalah, dok gösök siang malang, said naik ccadöng nye buboh kanji. Tapi pitih takdök sekèpèng harang, nök bbining guane?

Kita le ning serung kalu panjak tinggi-tinggi ggining. Tapi muséng anging nniup ning örang dok mitök tulong sangak takot buöh nyör jatoh ddebök atah rabong. Kemarèng Mök Song tu nasib baik dök kena pelepöh nyör atah ppala, kalu kena tu nök geröh sunggohlah, bicuk nnötöng. Tapi kalu döh tahu kita dok tinggi sayuk ning dök söhlah dok gi masok bbilik air tu kerèk sangak sebab kita dök larak nök ppaling kelaing döh, bukang sengaja nök tèngök, tapi kalu ssilak napök buléh jadi ttimbér mata!

Susöh nök cari pitih wak beli pape muséng ggining. Minggu lepah dapak jugök samah dua ambék upöh gi ppasör, tapi tu pong habih takdök sekèpèng döh sebab kemarèng habih sakör, hari ning berah pulök tingga dua butér je. Berah hancor pong maha ddö'öh le ning, döh nök wak guane, beli dua tiga cètöng pong tahang jugok dekat seria.

Mamak tu pulök dok mitök kita sapa bbuéh mulok, tulonglah catah pohong nyör tu takut ttipa atah rabong malang nnari. Tulah ambe dok atah pohong nyör ning denge gölök ning, kita asöh takdi di batu ttepi sura. Kita pong ada bawök badik jugök selék ddalang kilah ning takot jjupe ulör ccelöh daung ni. Kalu dia keluör sèkör ambe kena catah selalu, dök léh tunggu-tunggu. Kalu tidök aku dok tèngök mung, mung dok tèngök aku, göbör jugök tu.

Bukang nye kita panda sangak tebang pohong nyor ni, tapi kita dok tèngök Bachök dok buak tu napök mudöh je. Tapi dök léh serunglah, kena buak hanelang, tapi kena tèngök bbawöh jugök sekali sekala. Tadi nök naik tu bismillah bbaik döh, selawak dua tiga kali. Satu lagi bila kerabak tinggi-tinggi ning kena paka seluör pèndèk, pah tu paka kaing ssahang lluör ikat kemah keming, ppala pong kena barot semutar macang orang Barat dok mari jjua ppasör. Nasib baik jugök teringak nök pinjang seluör kecik Awang kita tu takdi, takot orang lengök tèngök kang napök kötèng-kotèng malu je.

Bila naik tinggi ggining baru napök pe'el budök-budök lari cerida ddalang kapong dok ngusék örang ppuang gila tidor atah sura. Nye petöng batulah, nye dok tönyèrlah kat örang ppuang tu, ssiang ke dia. Dia pong dok layang budök-budök tu ba'ape? Tapi dia örang gila kang, kita dök léh dok ikut èrè dia sangak, dia jjalang atah anging, kita hök dok jjalang atah tanöh ning lah patut nye dök layang dia. Betol jugök lah kita ning pong dök ppijök ttanöh le ning, tapi kita dok panjak pohong nyör, bukang dok ssaje.

Lama sunggoh kita dök makang umbok nyör, orang rumöh mesti keponang kalu kita dök wak balék ke dia. Pah tu pucok nyör ni buléh wak bukuh ttupak, pelepöh dia kalu jemör buléh wak bakör akök. Lama sunggoh kita dök makang akök, masa nniköh anök Kelesong dululah gamöknye. Tulah kita dok ingak, kalu Awang kita tu jadilah nniköh takdirnya, guanelah kita nök cari akök banyök-banyök. Kalu anök orang laing adelah jugök rasa nök cari kerija, göhék tèksi ke, ambék upöh angkat berah ke, nök gipong pitis buléh nniköh derah sikik. Takdök setarang niak nök wak ggitu, dok harap ke mök pök die je. Tu dia dok kerising kerinyih macang kera kena belacang ddepang rumöh mèk dia.

Bila napök dia dari sining rasa macang nök gi sèkèh ppala dia, tapi dökkanglah kita nök tingga kerija ning, dok tinggi langgok ccelöh buöh nyör.

Parök jugök tebang nyör ni, tèngök tangang kita ning habih bbèce, betih habis nnelah sebab dok ggatong ke batang nyör tu. Kita tèngök Bacök wak ggitulah, dia ppaok ke batang nyör denge dua belöh kaki kemah kkeming, pah tu dia ggatong ke batang nyör sebelöh tangang, sebelöh tangang lagi dok tetök batang nyör lepah sekaki, sekaki, dia tohok bbawöh satu satu. Pah tu dia gelösör turong, catah lagi, sapalah habih dia turong bbawöh pohong, tinggal akör je.

Nnelah jugök betih kita wak ggining, dök apalah sebab kita bese sökmö döh wak kerja ggining, sapa keluör orak merèh, dok akat sasök Wang Ngöh ttepi pata tu. Kerija kita ggininglah, kena buléh buak serema, bukang macang orang kerija pejabak, dok ccökoh je atah kerusi, nnuleh ddalang bok.

Nasib baik jugöklah kita paka seluör katök Awang kita takdi sebab ada dua tiga èkör kerengga masuk ddalang seluör, kita dang kerènyèk dulu, kalu tidök terok mbènglah, bukangnya buléh lömör minyök rima!

[For translation, go here.]

Diary of Pök Téng

We have found the diary of Pök Téng, as faithfully recorded by Tuan Wingsteak, an Englishman who left the colonial service to go native in Kuala Trengganu's Ujong Tanjong in the 1950s. He spent his life among the fishermen and enjoyed especially his conversations with Pök Téng, a local odd job man and native sage. We are fortunate that Tuang Wingsteak recorded some of his conversations with Pök Téng in a notebook, found in the glove compartment of his Austin Riley that was donated to the Trengganu Museum (yet to be built) by his next of kin in England when his pen ran out of Quink and he himself finally deceased. Tuang Winsteak, as he was known in Kuala Trengganu, wrote in Jawi in his notebook,
in Pökténgspeak:

December, 20th 1951.
Monsoon in Kuala Terengganu courtesy of Malaysian artist Anuar Dan
Bila dengör ömbök dderu tu naik kemarok pulök, nök makang ikang sarök. Tapi le ning, muséng tutop kuala, ömbök kasör, orang dök kelauk. Napök nye kena dok derumöh je lah, dok makang ubi török. Kalu nök makang pisang tu kena jaga lah sikit, kalu kena pisang dök mölèk tu naik mmulah perok, betang demang. Orang rumöh ambe kata pisang bakorang tu baik kalu beri orang baik demang. Dia tohok sebutir ddalang bara api takdi, pah tu kita makang masa tengöh panas berasap, hilanglah rasa luga, rasa macang nök mmaing rödak pulök.

Muséng turong air ulu ning laok mengaung siang malang, macang bbunyi rima je ssepék ccelöh batang buloh. Kemarèng ada budök pasör tu jereloh ddalang pasir rebih ttepi pata, nasib baik dang ppaok ke dahang pohong bbaru. Kalu dök habislah dia hanyuk ke Pula Rèdang, dudok denge Tuang Puteri, dok dengör Mökyonglah tiap-tiap malang. Tapi ssiang jugök ke dia habih nnelah peha sapa ke lutut. Dia dok nnönènglah di dahang pohong tu takdi sapa orang gi ambek denge perahu jalor buat naik ddarak.

Nök gi dok ttepi pata pong gerung le ning sebab anging kuat bawök masok macang-macang benda atah tebing. Kalu ssilap dok ccakong ttepi pata tu kena buöh rengas, ssiaplah sariyang pulök dok ggaru punggong. Le ning napök nye kenalah gi buang air ddalang rök sebab takut tèngök tebing dok rebih. Lagi pong anging nniuk kuak sangak, ssilap buak, kaing ssahang pulök kena tiup di anging, ssèlok lah napok seluör kkatök.

Kerepok lèkör pong takdok setarang muséng ggining, maklong sajalah muséng ömbök kasör ning örang dök gi kelaut, Mök Song pong dök gètèl kerepok.. Hök ada kerepok kering je, tapi nök görèng minyök nyor takdök setitik hharang, habis Sèmèk tu nye buat minyök rambot. Napök nye kena gi ppatalah ambik pasir halus dua tiga cètöng nök buboh ddalang kuali, bila panah tu mölèk jugök buleh görèng kerepok. Natilah dulu, hujang dok turong ning, pasir pong tengöh basöh jjerok.

Mölèklah dok derumöh petang ggining, kalu ada rizki dapak makang ubi kayu denge nyör parok. Lepah kena air kawa segelah gök jatoh ddebing selalu lah, tidor sapa ggarék .

* * *

Kita ssètök sapa jatoh ppale dari nyör kömèng, ingaknye guroh bbunying dari lauk. Bila buka mata baru napök bumi gelak gelemak, api lak dari atah Bukit Tteri nnyala lik-lik dari jaoh, bunyi dari Sura Haji Mat Kerici tulah yang jadi ambe ssètök. Budök-budök pasör le ning takdök kereja serema sebab ikang dök naik, nye dok kkupol ddalang sura, pah tu nye beratang pukol geduk. Habih rèng nye pepöh kulit lembu tu, dengör sapa ddarak.

Dalang dok jjalang balik tu jeremböng denge Mèk Munöh dok tengöh kutip kayu api ttepi pata. Kita teringat nök kkabör kerepok hok ambe beli dari dia dulu tu dök mölèk. Kita kata ikang tu gatal tapi sebab anging kuat dia silap dengör, nye bedal ppale kita denge peranyöh.

"Bukang ambe kata mung Mèk, tapi kerepok tu yang gata." Tapi bila muka dia masang ccatung tu dia wak dök je apa hok ambe cakak.

Bila balik nök cerita guane ke orang rumöh, döhlah ppale mèröh mmerang, nye ddenyuk pulök macang kena sengak ikang ddukang. "Ba'pe yang muka mung bekök nnötöng, tu Yaténg?" orang rumöh kita tanye sambil tangang dia dok ayök tepong nök wak kuih bèke.

"Döh nök wak guane," kita jawak. "Bila jjalang ttepi pata ta'di kita ssèmbak tali sauh Wang Mang. Jatoh gguling bating, teratok ppala bbira wakaf."

"Tulah mung dök semayang ggarék," dia jawak. "Orang gi semayang mung dok nnètèr ttepi laok!"

[For translation, go here]

Before You Grow Old

We are all gulity, sometimes, of bungling around without knowing where the head is or where hangs the tail. Dök tahu ppala èkör is normally used to describe such caper, when a person goes on blabbing out of their depth, or when a person intrudes in the middle of an argument and takes the wrong end of the stick, so to speak. Cats sometimes do this when they chase their own tail, but perhaps they are not all that clueless, perhaps they are having fun, it's hard to say. We'll have to think about Wittgenstein and his lion here.

The head (ppala) and the tail (èkör) are chosen here because they indicate direction, the head being on top in a person and in the front in an animal. If a person had a tail it would no doubt be placed in a part generally described as his back, but in an animal the tail is definitely its rear. So a person who does not know the head from the tail, dök tahu ppala èkör, does not really know the flow.

But you could do worse than chase your own tail. Take the kid who kicks the bin and pelts the dog and runs the stick on the picket fence at the bewitching hour. Dök jjuruh haröh, which is several grades below the clueless, for here is a deficiency in the department of pe'el. Now pe'el is from the Middle Eastern area, فعل (fe'el), which means behaviour.

"Tengok pe'el tu!" are words of warning, "Look at that behaviour!" and the pe'el could run a gamut of things - söngör for one, goes beyond funny. A söngör boy is funny beyond the bounds of acceptability. He pulls faces at Pök Su, the village elder, he laughs and jumps over Mèk Som's basket of kerepok lèkör, he giggles as he taunts all and sundry. A söngör person is never an adult and is almost always a boy. Then there's the headless chicken of a behaviour, nanör that is, a runner here and there sans direction or purpose, incorrigible behaviour beyond naka, beyond söngör and eventually heading for the Henry Gurney School.

"Dök jjuruh haröh sunggoh budök tu," lacking in decorum (jjuruh) is he, lacking in direction (haröh) is that boy, and really, really so.

"Lekat pah ttua, kö'ör!" Kö'ör is an anxiety word, a fear that something will be so. Until adulthood that is – lekat pah ttua, when – God forbid – they become part of kaki hanyar, the flotsam and jetsam of our ordered society.

Selamat Hari Raya

How nasi himpit is made.

Come Raya morning, chaos rules. It is the same today in our household: time is flying fast and there is no sign of that button for the baju, and the shirt's unironed, oh woe is me.

And then I hear the genta, long clanging sounds from far away, atop the hill, and Raya resonates down to us down below, through closed shops and houses in Kuala Trengganu. Children half awake from a full night of weaving and running in the dark and looking at faces lit up in the yellow light of Chinese lanterns that fold up like bellows but are now stretched to their full length by the weight of candles.

There are ships among houses, no, not sailing ones, but close, too close to the stairs of the house of Pok Wè or Wang Semail, and other people who have money to take to the shops for crepe paper and glossy sheets in bright colours. Bamboos split into uprights and longer ones, joined together in horizontals, curved in the bow and papered over to be ship shape. We have seen them coming in, navigating the narrow neck of Ujung Tanjung and Seberang Takir across the water, the Hong Ho and the Rawang full of goods from Singapore. Now we have them made up from bright paper made bright by the lights of flickering kerosene lamps, in the front yard of some houses, trailing from mast to stern with twirled crepe of pastel colours, and perhaps a flag up there, no, not of Trengganu, but an unwashed kain lepas – a long sheet of workman's shoulder rag – to flutter into the winds the news that it is the night of Hari Raya.

We are tired now but the day's fresh as the dew, and hearken now to the sounds of Bilal Deramang and his companion Bilal Sa'id in two voices, one sonorous the other gruff, oh how beautiful and sad, the tugging in the heart sounds of the Takbir! And klaaang! and klaang! go the genta, an old bell on Bukit Puteri. The maidens living up there in the mist of legends must have been klaaanged from their slumber.

Now Father's looking smart with the apex of his handkerchief sticking out from the little pocket on the left breast of his baju, a place where the folded handkerchief with the bunga rampai potpourri sticks out in full aroma on wedding days, but Hari Raya isn't a potpourri day. Today it reeks of attar that came back with pilgrims from Makkah; his middle is wrapped in not quite the finest, but a good enough songket of Trengganu, bought from the shop of his friend Ustaz Su. And he wears his well-creased trousers to match the shirt, and that is the signal for us all. We are now ready to go.

Hari Raya is always a problem for me as I have trouble keeping the sampin tightly wrapped in the middle. It slides down the slippery trousers of some silky material, bought from the shop of our Tamil friend Abdul Hameed, and when the middle wrap starts to slide down, it needs to be readjusted and re-folded, and then twirled into a holding belt in the middle. It will be a great embarrassment if it comes down to rest on the floor around the shimmering trouser legs in the Masjid Abidin in the middle of prayers.

Around the Masjid, under the henna tree and the entrances towards Kampung Daik and another near the row of taps opposite the Lay Sing photo Studio are already teeming with people. Ku Haji Ambak and his sons in Middle Eastern garb, the paterfamilias with a round hat that seems to have been woven from some exotic straw, and their long robes brushing against other people in more familiar bajus tucked into the middle songkets glinting in the morning air. What a merry feast of Trengganu colours.

I always have my eyes at this time on the magnificent house that stands outside the mosque for that's our stop after prayers. There will be men handing out coins to children at the gate of the mosque and we'll be handed ten cents if we're lucky, but in the house of our uncle Ayah Pa and his wife Che Da (it's her family house actually) there'll be beleda with a crusty coat of sugar in the plate and ketupat to dip in peanut sauce and probably a cake laid out on a tray, made by a company called Big Sister, and there'll be buah ulu and laksam and maybe some nasi dagang too with the coconuty meat of the ikang aya (tuna).

The shops are closed but the mood is high. Adults exchange greetings and pleas for forgiveness for transgressions during the year, and the day's just about to start and it will end with us all bloated in the chair. There is a good view of the mosque from our uncle's upraised house, into the compound where the bilal will probably be seen in conversation with the imam, where people who are mosque regulars are still walking here and there. And there, outside the front mihrab tip of the mosque are the long stone pillars standing in rows, memorials to the royal family's deceased members.

The middle wrap of some fancy cloth is abandoned now and hands are dipping into the lower pockets of the Malay baju now jangling with coins and rustling perhaps with a dollar note or two. The lights are now fading into asar, time for the afternoon prayer, and we will soon be imbued in deep melancholy – of songs that endlessly sing the Hari Raya, of sounds that are gone but still droning from afar, lilting back and forth in memory, and lights and colours here and there.

As I sit here now thinking of that I see Mother now after her days of preparation in the kitchen, her face smiling, not basking in the joy of herself, but in vicarious pleasure from the enjoyment of seeing her children on Hari Raya.

Our beloved and departed family members, may Allah bless them all.

And I wish you all, my dear readers, a happy and blessed Eid ul Fitri.

Passing of A Friend

I have to record with great sadness the passing of my dear friend Tengku Ismail Tengku Su at the Royal Brompton Hospital in London at approximately 4.30 pm London time yesterday, Saturday 13th August.

Tengku Ismail was in the Intensive Care Unit of the hospital for more than a month after suffering two heart attacks. He was here on a mission for his beloved Terengganu, to exhibit some of his songket collection at the Royal Weave exhibition at the Prince's School of Traditional Arts in July and for a presentation at Asia House.

He was given an emergency angioplasty procedure and stenting at the Royal Brompton to clear a clogged artery but recovery eluded him. For much of his time in hospital he was under induced sleep and even another angioplasty done later gave only minimal help to the damaged left ventricle of his heart.

His brother Tengku Yusof was by his bedside at the time of his passing.

I shall always remember Tengku Ismail as a very pleasant and cheerful man with much love for Terengganu handicraft, especially the weaving arts. He was responsible for the preservation of many Terengganu traditional houses which he brought together to his Pura Tanjung Sabtu resort in Kuala Terengganu.

He had an encyclopedic knowledge of the genealogy of the Terengganu royal house and was responsible for a beautiful facsimile reproduction of the Trengganu edition of the Tuhfat An Nafis, the original copy of which was kept by his family. He brought a copy of the Tuhfat to present to Prince Charles, the Prince of Wales. In a rare moment when he was awake in his hospital bed, Tengku Ismail asked me to write a dedication in the book he brought for the Prince, but the Terengganu Duke of Songket - as he styled himself - never recovered from his illness to make the presentation.

His leaving us in this blessed month of Ramadhan is especially poignant for me as I remember in my childhood days that it was in this month that my mother would rush to the Tengku's parents' house in the precinct of the Istana Maziah to order for each of us a hand-stitched suit of Malay baju for Hari Raya. His late father, Tengku Su, was known for his tailoring skills and it was from him that Tengku Ismail inherited his interest in handicraft, design and weaving.

He was a student here in the early 1970s and coming back here gave him special joy as he was keen to revisit his old haunts. His legacy will be his works of design for the Terengganu royal regalia. He had friends throughout the world and his mild eccentricity made him an especially endearing man.

He turned 60 in hospital surrounded by friends. The Yang di Pertuan Agong DYMM Tuanku Mizan Zainal Abidin and the Raja Permaisuri Agong Tuanku Nor Zahirah visited Tengku Ismail in his hospital bed earlier this month.

Tengku Ismail's funeral service will take place at the East London Mosque on Monday 15th August before burial at the Garden of Peace in Ilford. May Allah grant him jannah and place him among the righteous. Alfatihah.</>

NOTE 15 Aug.: Bureaucracy took time to process documents needed by Tengku Ismail in his to final journey home. His funeral will now take place on Tuesday 16th August at the place stated above.

Tengku Ismail Tengku Su

My dear friend Tengku Ismail Tengku Su is still in hospital here in London after undergoing an emergency angioplasty last week.

He was here on an invitation to the Prince's School of Traditional Arts and the Asia House, to give a presentation on the Royal Weave - the Trengganu songket - a subject close to his heart. This is a trip he has been working on very hard and the result was a stunning display here in London of this weaving heritage that Trengganu so excels in. Indeed, Tengku Ismail has often referred to himself jocularly as the Duke of Trengganu songket.

He was taken ill very suddenly after his return from a trip to Istanbul and was immediately admitted to the Chelsea and Westminster hospital. He suffered a heart attack soon after he was admitted to the Royal Brompton Hospital awaiting further medical intervention.

He is now on an induced sleep to give his body adequate rest after a chest infection last week. Please remember him in your prayers.

UPDATE

My Dear Friends:

Thank you for your prayers and to those who have emailed asking about his condition, this is the latest [21/7]:

Our dear Tengku is still in a very serious condition and has been induced back to sleep to conserve his energy for the fight. He is now back on the ventilator as his heart is causing some concern. Please do continue your prayers for him.