Chapter 5: The Lady from Lumpoho

My grandmother's maiden name is Lotimboi Binte Gumpai. She was a petite woman, typical of the small built rural Dusun women in those days. It is speculated that she married my grandfather  in 1927 when she was 14 years old. By then, my grandfather was in his mid-forties. In those days, it was fairly common for indigenous maidens to marry at such young age!

13.8.1913 - 28.1.1981

After marriage, they lived in a traditional bamboo house in Kampong Pulutan, Menggatal. She had two children with my grandfather. My mother was born a year after marriage in 1928 and my uncle two years later.

In 1950 when she was 37, her husband (my grandfather) passed away at the age of 68. Unlike many Kadazan women who remarried after the spouses passed away, she did not marry again and remained a widow for the next 31 years. She passed away at the age of 68 in 1981 in the same place where she had spent all her life after her marriage.

Though married to a Chinese, she was in all respects a typical rural Dusun woman. She preferred to walk barefoot in the farm. She chewed the betel and smoked the leaf-wrapped local cigar. On the other hand, she assimilated a lot of the Chinese culture and she could speak fluently in Hakka. She also learnt to cook many Hakka dishes.

These are photo's of my grandmother at her younger days. Though a Dusun, I had never seen her dressed in any other way than in the traditional Chinese blouse.

I remember the time when she smoked her cigar in the company of her grandchildren, some of us would find the strong cigar smell unbearable. She told us that one of the reasons she smoked the cigar was to keep away the mosquito when she worked in the field and the orchard.

Ingredients & tools for betel chewing.

She was very enterprising. In her own small piece of land, she planted many kinds of fruit trees - durian, rambutan, langsat, tarap and bambangan trees. During fruiting season, she would gather some of the produce from her orchard and brought them to sell in the local tamu in Menggatal town. Sometimes, to maximise profit, she would approach the nearby durian orchard owners to buy their durians and cart them in two large baskets suspended on a long pole to sell in Jesselton (later renamed Kota Kinabalau after the formation of Malaysia). In Jesselton, the produce could fetch much better price than in Menggatal. During the non-fruiting season, she tapped rubber to supplement the family income.

Her interest to market local produce never ceased even after her two children had grown up, married and started their own families.

When my then GF first visited KK back in 1978, she was taken to a tamu in Menggatal where my grandmother used to market her produce. She is seen at the left. The tamu has not changed much in 1978!

Once every two months, she would drop by to our house in Harrington Road (renamed Jalan Istana) to spend an afternoon with her daughter and her grandchildren. The grandchildren had always enjoyed her visits because of the fruits and goodies which she brought along. One of the things I remember vividly was that her "presence" lingered on for a couple of days even after she left. This is because of the spots of red colour spits left on some patches of the compound. Sometimes for the fun of it, the grandchildren also chewed the betel to see whose spit was redder!

To sum up about my impression of my grandmother: she was a gentle and patient woman who kept much of her thoughts to herself. Of all the occasions we met, I had never seen her raised her voice in anger or raised her hand on her grandchildren even when they were naughty! 

Sometimes, I still missed her. I wished I had known her more....

Bambangan

Langsat

Tarap

P.S. Natives who resided to the north of Kota Kinabalu (Inanam, Menggatal, Kiulu) called themselves Dusuns. The Dusuns usually settle near to the jungle fringes. The Kadazans reside mostly in Penampang and Tambunan. After the formation of Malaysia, the term KadazanDusun was adopted to refer to both Dusuns and Kadazans.

Phrase of the Month: When I Speak, You Listen

Malaysia is never short of  morons. Some even believe that O-level pre-degree holder must listen to the degree holder. Are they more mature or more superior? Well, sometimes even baby has more maturity than degree holder.

Fortunately, we also do have plenty of talents to make us laugh, really laugh.

So Listen.

Chapter 4: The Pulutan Connection - Part 2

As a young boy growing up in the 1950s and 1960s, the greatest excitement in visiting my grandmother's farmhouse was the stream that ran beside it. It was a magical place, full of adventure and wonder, and easily the highlight of every trip.

Back then, travelling from my old house at Harrington Road (now renamed Jalan Istana) to Pulutan felt as time-consuming as flying from KK to KL today. A couple of days before we left, my mother would make a trip to the town to buy some items - small treats for the cousins, dry food supplies and perhaps a few pieces of fabric for my grandmother or aunt to sew new garments.

The day before our departure, my mother would go through her checklist to ensure nothing was left behind - gifts, daily change of clothes, toiletries like toothbrushes and combs. One of the most important item was the baby sling - a simple sarong used as a wrap carrier for my younger brother, who was just over a year old at the time. Unlike the wide varieties of stylish and ergonomic baby carriers available to mothers today, our version was basic but practical. A baby stroller was completely out of question - it was a luxury far beyond our means.

Despite the long journey and all the preparation, the excitement of visiting the farmhouse and playing by the stream made every effort worthwhile. The memories remain some of the most cherished from my childhood.

Sarong as baby wrap carrier.

The trip normally started at 10 in the morning. We first had to walk about 2Km from our house to reach the bus station in the town with each carrying the designated items. Then at the bus station, we would board a bus bound for Menggatal or Tuaran. As usual, the bus stopped at a road junction a short distance before reaching Menggatal. We then walked the 2.7Km graveled road to arrive at our final destination. More often than not, we had to walk. At very rare time, we might take the pirate taxi that plied the route. During dry weather, we had to endure the tons of dust generated by moving traffic. Somehow, in those days, such challenges never diminished our desire to go and enjoy ourselves at my grandmother's house.

By the time we finally reached at my grandmother's house, it would have passed lunch time around 2pm. But as soon as we arrived, we wasted no time to start doing what we had been dreaming most, i.e. to be in the stream. We would normally spend long hours in water and would reluctantly go back to the house after being yelled at repeatedly or after much threatening with caning with rotan.

As depicted by cartoonist Lat,  most kids living in the kampong by a stream or river did more or less similar things!

The stream that had given us so much good memory has changed significantly over the years. The flow now is so much reduced. This is probably the price of progress and development!

Chapter 3: The Pulutan Connection - Part 1

When Serene suggested I write about my childhood memories, one of the first things that came to my mind was the idea of  revisiting some of the places where I had spent parts of my early years. I hope that returning to these places would help refresh old memories and give me a sense of how they had changed over time.

Recently, with the help of my cousin Yee Sze Moi, I had the chance to revisit the kampong (village) where my mother spent her childhood before marrying my father. The place has undergone so many changes that, without my cousin's guidance, it would have been nearly impossible to find. What was once familiar has now been transformed almost beyond recognition.

2005 view

2011 view

Coordinates: 6⁰ 00’ 36.78”N, 116⁰ 10’ 17.57”E

Vast expanse of flat land (once used for wet padi planting) to the east of the house. A stream traverses at the west of the house.

Vehicles are now able to be driven right up to the door step. In the past we had to walk an earth track to reach the house.

But the moment I stepped into the land on 09.01.2013, certain familiar features in the landscape confirmed without a doubt that I was at the right place. Setting foot there after a 32-year absence stirred a flood of memories and a deep sense of nostalgia. 

It was almost surreal to imagine that the very spot where I had parked my car was once where my fiance -  now my wife - stood proudly carrying a basket full of durian freshly picked from my grandmother's farm. That visit in 1978 marked the first time she had ever set foot in Sabah!

The last time I visited was in January 1981, when I returned to attend my grandmother's funeral. She had passed away alone in the old house she loved so dearly. In the years  leading to her death, her children and grandchildren had gradually moved away - with each pursuing careers or seeking better opportunities elsewhere. Though she had been invited to stay with her grandsons, she chose to remain behind, unwilling to leave the land that held so much meaning to her.

Tragically, her passing went unnoticed for several days. It was only when one of her grandsons visited the old house that her body was discovered. My mother was deeply affected by this loss, and I believe the emotional impact stayed with her for the rest of her life.

Since then, the land has been sold to a neighboring landowner who has taken great care to improve and maintain the area. What was once wild and overgrown in now neat and well-kept. A new house has been built on the exact spot where the old house once stood, its entrance now reoriented to fact the northwest. 

Since then, the land has been sold to a neighboring landowner who has taken great care to improve and maintain the area. What was once wild and overgrown is now neat and well-kept. A new house has been built on the exact spot where the old house once stood, its entrance now reoriented to face the northwest.

The new house verses a typical traditional looking house.

Bamboo House Memory

Bamboo was a common building material in the area, as the surrounding land was rich with bamboo trees. The old house I remember well was a large bamboo structure, much like the one shown in the photo above. Its main hall was elevated on a 12-feet-high stilts, and attached to it was a spacious balcony measuring 12ft by 18ft. The front door of the house faced east. 

Constructing a bamboo house is labour intensive. First, a large number of bamboo trees had to be cut down. The bamboo was then split into strips by forceful pounding and laid out to dry. Once the main frame of the house - typically built from sturdy tree trunks - was completed, the walls and floors were formed by nailing the flattened bamboo strips into place. Except for the main door, which was made of timber boards, the windows were also constructed from bamboo strips. The roof was usually thatched with attap leaves. One downside of this type of construction was the lack of insulation: cold night air and mosquitos could easily slip through the gaps between bamboo strips, often causing discomfort and irritation to the occupants.

The main hall of the old house measured approximately 25ft wide by 40ft long and was open-plan, without any internal partitions. In one corner stood a large bed - roughly the size of a modern king-size - made of timber boards and raised about 2.5ft above the bamboo floor and covered with a mat. This bed was used by my uncle and his wife; he was my wife's only brother. The rest of the family slept directly on the floor, with mats for bedding. Privacy was minimal - limited to the use of mosquito netting, which also served to protect sleepers from bites during the night. 

The only other piece of furniture I remember clearly was a small dressing table, complete with a mirror used for grooming and simple make-up.

Life at the Old House

When we met with our cousins, we always preferred to sleep together out in the open rather than inside the mosquito nets. It felt more fun and adventurous, even if it meant braving the occasional mosquito bites!

The kitchen was a small bamboo hut, about 8ft by 8ft, with an attap roof like the main house. The bathroom was another bamboo hut, roughly 4ft by 5ft, but without any roof at all. Inside, there was a metal tank filled up with water that had to be carried in buckets from the nearby stream - a short walk from the house. As far as I can remember, I never actually used the bathroom; almost everyone, except the adults, bathed directly in the stream.

The dining area was an open space just outside the kitchen. A rectangular timber table stood at its center, surrounded by wooden stools and benches. Beside being used for meals, the table often served as a makeshift study desk where my cousins did their homework in the afternoons after school. However, during heavy rainstorm and strong winds, this area became unusable.

The space beneath the main hall was used for storing firewood, harvested fruits and padi. It was a practical use of the shaded, dry area under the elevated structure.

A 4-foot-wide timber staircase connected the dining area to the elevated balcony. There was no handrails on the staircase, and the balcony itself lacked any protective railing. Yet despite the absence of safety features, I don't recall anyone ever suffering a serious accident - something quite remarkable in hindsight.

One of my favourite pastimes at the old house was sitting with all the kids at the edge of the balcony, enjoying the wide, open view. We would watch the changing scenery and the many activities taking place in the padi fields. The landscape transformed throughout the day and with each season, offering a beautiful array of colours and shades. It was truly breathtaking.

The memories live on!

Everybody Loves Nathan

The Complete Picture

The complete picture was made possible during the recent Christmas 2012 season. Thank you all for making the picture complete:). This picture truly makes me the happiest man!