First Contact

Let me tell you about my ‘First Contact’.

On a walk down 'memory lane', one would invariably come across the topic of the fairer sex. My incipient interest in girls began from an action by my friend Richard, a village bloke who also taught me how to smoke.

Being older, obviously Richard was more attuned to the yang-yin philosophy. He set the social pace for our group by daringly writing to a girl in my kampong (village) and introducing himself to her. He even did the unthinkable as well, asking her for a date ... gulp.

Now, I had known that very girl since we were toddlers. In fact we were playmates for a number of years. Let’s just called her Girl, shall we!

To me, Girl was just an ordinary neighbour, a casual kampong friend who sort of fitted in my everyday background without being too obvious. We may say that she was more or less always there yet most times I wasn't even conscious of her presence. But to Richard who lived in another suburb and who looked at her with fresh (and certainly more mature) eyes, she was absolutely gorgeous.

Richard proudly informed the gang that Girl had replied to his letter. This was the age of pre-email correspondence between pen-pals, so I was rather miffed that I hadn’t thought of it, that was, writing to Girl. It was the correspondence per se rather than Girl as a female that I was interested at this stage.

Well, I mulled over Richard’s success, with silly me then thinking it might be a good idea to join in with a bit of corresponding too.

So I emulated Richard and wrote a letter to Girl, ridiculously introducing myself to her as if I didn’t even know her, whom I played with and saw virtually every day over the years. In fact, Girl came to my house regularly because her mum and mine were friends.

Well, what do you expect? I was only 12 and that was my first letter to someone, anyone and not just a girl.

Bad idea – ‘cause Girl was so shocked when she received my letter, she dobbed me straightaway to her mum. Perhaps she was under the impression my perception of her had changed from mere platonic to new passionate.

Girl’s mum, whom I addressed as Ah Ee (Auntie), had a reputation in my kampong for her caustic blistering sarcasm, and she certainly let me have some of it a few days later when she passed by my house. I so happened to be in the garden hitting a few shuttles with my badminton kaki (member).

“Kaytee”, she mocked in her shrill voice, “Looks like you have become an excellent writer of letters.”

I didn’t know where to put my face – my guilt fell suddenly and swiftly on my conscience like a very hungry reticulated python, knocking out my breath while constricting out what little I had left in my body, with the full realisation of Ah Ee’s piercing remarks - all within 0.025 of a second.

Hmmm, strategise, strategise, quick! I decided the optimum, nay, the ‘only’ avenue left for me under those immediately threatening circumstances (to my dignity) was to brazen out her sarcasm, by pretending I didn’t hear her biting comments.

So I did the Oscar winning act and demonstrated village courtesy by responding sweetly, “Ah Ee, cheah par ar boey?” in traditional Penang greeting ('Auntie, have you had your lunch/dinner?'), hoping to put her off balance, and then continued “Ah Ee korng har mmee ah?” meaning ‘what did Auntie say?’

Oh, you should have seen my innocent angelic eyes, and I can tell you ;-), at that moment butter wouldn't have melted in my mouth.

Maybe my tactic worked or she wasn’t all that worked up as to blast me out of the water – actually she did like me very much before and even after that incident. She just smiled wryly and kept going.

Phew! I was so embarrassed, with the realization dawning on me then that I made one hell of a boo-boo. Since that day, Girl and I avoided each other like the plague. I was so embarrassed that she thought I made a pass at her, and she too must have felt that way, besides dobbing me to her mum.

In terms of a real interest in girls per se, that was just a spurious warning for me, but nevertheless for a 12-year old kid it was First Contact with an 'alien' force, where I was zapped real good for my insipience!

Postscript:
Years later Girl grew up and married a local boy, the son of the village grocer. Damn it, Richard had been right all along. She was absolutely gorgeous (to my by-then grownup eyes), a beautiful pony-tailed angel.

All of us losers consoled ourselves by suggesting that perhaps she had BO, and she probably married her husband - nah, we never did like him, the wimp - out of pity.

... sob sob ...