I remember that during my teens the dreams most Chinese Penangites would only bother to relate to their family and friends would be those about gods or dear departed ones and their blessings of a choon-choon* 4-ekor (4 digits) wakakaka.
* a Penang Hokkien term meaning ‘very accurately’ but contextually implying ‘very accurate forecast of the No 1 winner for the next/pending 4-digit lottery’
As they say, these choon choon see ay jee* would be stuff that dreams are made of (pun intended).
* see ay jee in Penang Hokkien means 4 numbers (digit) or empat (4) ekor
While Christians, Muslims, Buddhists, Sikhs and Hindus undoubtedly would prefer to have dreams about pious matters, the non-Christian and non-Buddhist Chinese were, like the CIA, FBI and our dear SB, more interested in practical ‘intelligence’ than theological or holy issues, or to be more precise, which 4 numerical digits would emerge as the next prize-winning numbers for the 4-ekor lottery.
* note I am writing this post in the past tense as I’m recalling what happened in my youth
I’m not too sure whether those 4-ekor kakis (enthusiasts) were adherents of Confucianism or Taoism? Hmmm, probably not!
Maybe I’d be daring and classify those 4-ekor kakis as animists as they would not hesitate to consult the local Oracles, any Delphic nook, rock or ghost wakakaka, for the choon choon see ay jee.
Gods or ghosts, immortals or inanimate objects – Malaysian gamblers of all ethnicity aren’t discriminating so long as the supernatural/occult forecast matches the 1st prize draw in the equine stakes.
However, the story I am about to tell you is a bit unusual as it involved a very pious Buddhist sweetie who naturally would not be an 4-ekor kaki as Buddhism discourages gambling or any shortcut and illegal activity towards accumulating material rewards.
The tale of how a divine being spoke very precisely to Ginny, the pious Buddhist sweetie, has to begin with a man who I shall refer to (for convenience in this tale) as Thor ;-), and why not a Norse nickname, just in case you ask? You’re lucky I haven’t assign him a moniker like Heimdall or Mundilfara wakakaka.
Thor was well past his mid-20’s and could possibly be in his late twenties or even early thirties, but he was that sort of bloke who not only had an unknown background but a rather mysterious persona. One wasn’t quite sure what his real name was, how old he could be, who were his family and where he came from, etc?
But what we did know was that he was a jobless drifter without any personal property save the clothing on his back (plus probably a spare somewhere), a rusty bicycle and a religious icon in the form of a small porcelain statuette, the last of which I will come to eventually in the story.
However he possessed the gift of the gab, a smooth talker so to speak, full of humour and irrelevant information. But not once in his conversations with us did we ever get to know his future plans or learn about a relative, lover or close friend. I had never heard him mention any female friends, not even once. No, he was definitely not gay, as this was to be made abundantly clear a couple of years later.
Most unusual for a drifter, a man on the wild side of the street, he wasn’t a smoker, drinker or womaniser. But his one weakness was his addiction to village-style* gambling.
* village-style gambling consists of, but not restricted to just, mahjong at the back of a kopitiam (Malaysian Chinese coffee shop), p’arh-kau, jeegor-t’iap, charp-aw and various other Chinese card games, belangkas** and blackjack. A typical village-style gambling in say, blackjack, would be played by around 50 people in a secluded bamboo grove beside the Ayer Itam River – the dealer used 3, 4 or 5 decks of cards at the same time in order to accommodate the number of participants.
** to know what belankas is, refer to my previous post Makcik Puteh & Belangkas
Being the homeless drifter, Thor would stay anywhere he was accepted, sleeping in the corridor or lobby or even in the kitchen of someone’s house.
His only source of income (he mostly lost in his gambling) was being hired as a casual ‘medium’. If you still aren’t too sure what a ‘medium’ is, especially in the Penang context, please refer to one of my previous posts Encounter with a God.
A ‘casual’ medium is one who did not practise the trade or profession with regularity. Normally, believers or devotees who wanted to ‘consult a spirit’ could easily engage the ‘regular’ medium at a temple, shrine or even private chapels, but not so with a ‘casual’. Another term to describe a ‘casual’ in the trade would be ‘free lance’ (but not ‘part time’) medium; the term ’part-time’ would still imply a degree of professional regularity and thus certainty for a client to engage the medium. With a ‘casual’ medium, prior arrangement was essential.
Thor was a ‘casual’ medium for the simple reason he preferred it that way, either because of his intrinsic easy-going nature or intention, being the born drifter without any commitment to whoever, whenever, wherever, whatever or whichever.
Unfortunately, as a jobless drifter of semi-vagrant status, he projected a mien of thuggish toughness, when in reality he was a friendly, humorous and happy-go-lucky bloke. But one mustn’t commit the mistake of believing he was an angel or a male version of Margery Meanwell, the original goody two-shoes – nay, far from that, though one would realize he wasn’t a bad chap once one got to know him.
But yes, Thor wasn’t the sort of bloke a sweetie would want to take home to see dad and mum, though in this, fate played an ironical role to prove me wrong - well, that was what I eventually gathered before I left the village after completing my secondary schooling, and which was to confirm he wasn’t in the least gay at all … but that’s another story.
Now, each village medium usually, though not always, engaged with a particular deity when he/she went into a state of ‘trance’. In Thor’s case, his ‘special’ deity or speciality was Sun Wukong*, also known by the very disrespectful name of Kau Tay T’ian (Monkey God).
* Wukong means 'aware of voidness' where in Buddhism, it implies achieving spiritual insight leading to inner peace and wisdom. Sun Wukong is a member of the Buddhahood and not, as incorrectly believed, a Chinese 'god' per se though I use the term 'god' or 'deity' here loosely (for convenient flow of the writing)
Even today the latter name is considered to be very very rude, and only tolerated, just barely, when used by little naughty boys, like kaytee once was, wakakaka.
In fact, Sun Wukong’s official divine title is an awesome Qítiān Dàshèng or ‘Great Sage, Equal of Heaven’ (Chay T’ian Tai Seng in Penang Hokkien). There’s an interesting story behind the exalted title of ‘Equal to Heaven’ but I don’t intend to be diverted from the story here into narrating it.
Well, when Thor stayed at someone’s house on and off in his nomadic ways, he would also place his personal statuette of Sun Wukong on the devotional altar of his host’s residence*.
* I know of some Chinese families (outside Penang) who would not permit any boarding of strange divinities on their family altar as they consider that highly intrusive and even offensive, but Penang Taoists and Buddhists were and presumably still are fairly liberal on matters religious
The icon was a small porcelain figurine some 25 cm high, depicting Sun Wukong in all his glory, dressed impressively in colourful ancient Chinese martial garb and carrying his powerful rúyì-jīngū-bàng or ‘will-following golden-banded staff’, a magical fighting staff plucked (or rather, stolen) from the watery world of the Chinese Poseidon, the Dragon Lord of the Eastern Ocean.
Sun Wukong’s fighting staff has a famous pedigree. In the famous Chinese classic, Journey to the West, we are told how Sun Wukong obtained (seized without so much as a ‘please, may I’) this magic staff from the Dragon King of the Eastern Sea.
Apparently, one of China’s semi-mythical characters, Da Yu, who was renowned for flood controls in China during the Xia Dynasty more than 4,000 years ago, created the staff for measuring sea water depth as part of his flood control efforts. Either arcane fact or popular myth endowed the ancient staff with magical properties where it was able to vary its shape and length to keep track of the rise and ebb of floods.
After Da Yu passed away, it was said he left it in the sea, where it became the 'Pillar holding down the sea', and by default, the property of the Dragon King of the Eastern Sea.
Trust Sun Wukong to (mis)appropriate the 'Pillar holding down the sea' for his personal use. When he seized it, he actually removed the only thing controlling the ebb and flow of the ocean's tides. I wonder whether that has any connection with the existence of today’s tsunamis, tidal waves and whatnots? Anyway, enough of digressions from the main story. Let’s get back to Ginny and her family.
The man of the house was of course Ginny’s dad. He was a wonderful, kind and compassionate elderly man (60+), friendly, tolerant and accommodating to everyone. Though virtually a near impoverished taxi driver, his generosity and compassion towards all was renowned, which resulted in Thor staying at his humble village shack for an unprecedented (for Thor) 20 months.
I had written briefly on Uncle in an earlier post Makcik Puteh & Belangkas where I related: ..... just another 50 metres away from Pakcik Daud’s house there lived a family with almost exactly the same 'hero-rescue-damsel-from-drowning' drama. The only difference was the couple were Chinese. Ah Ee (Auntie) was married to a brute of a farmer who too abused her in the most horrific manner. [...]
Following the same script she went to the pier to drown herself but was rescued by another hero, Ah Chek (Uncle), who happened upon the almost-tragic scene when he was cruising around in his taxi looking for passengers. He certainly picked up one that late night who became his life partner. They lived together in de facto but very happy life. [...]
Looks like my village was full of such compassionate and wonderful heroes.
To be fair to Thor, he didn’t sponge on Uncle for any meals nor did he abuse any other facilities. Each morning on waking up he would tidy up his spot and disappear for the day until night returned, no doubt engaged during the day in village gambling, bullsh*tting or if we want to be kind, telling amusing stories, or being consulted as a medium.
Occasionally, on stormy days when the rain and wind were particularly severe, he was forced to remain in Ginny’s house when he would then regale everyone with his experience, encounters and episodes. He was a born story teller. And what made his stories all that more appealing was his background as a drifter, supposedly a man of the backstreets with the kind of experience mainstream society would not be familiar with.
So when Thor squatted (lodged) in Ginny’s house, his Sun Wukong figurine was there too, on the devotional altar. Ginny, as the only daughter of the house, was expected to conduct the daily prayers and offerings, in the mornings and evenings. Very seldom did/do Chinese males pray at home nor were they expected to. I suppose they must be considered as either hopeless on devotional matters or just plain unreliable in ensuring regular votive offerings were offered to the household gods with faithful regularity. I can speak with some authority on this issue wakakaka.
Thor was no different in this regard, perhaps further encouraged into nonchalant neglect of regular prayers to Sun Wukong when he saw how devoted Ginny was and thus dependable in conducting the necessary daily religious rites.
She quietly embraced reverential responsibility for the new member of the divine fraternity ‘residing’ at her dad’s house. As the months passed, Sun Wukong gradually became her favourite deity. Who but only Ginny knew how this happened, but one day she revealed a glimpse of why she was so devoted to the deity, telling me she felt as if Sun Wukong had been with her family for eons.
Now, if you recall my episode in
Well, much as the pre-deified Sun Wukong was notorious for his maverick, mischievous and monkeying ways ;-), once he was revered as a god he turned out to be one of those immortals with stern and ferocious don’t-f*ck-around-with-me attitude. Some blokes just take their divine positions too seriously wakakaka.
Yes, Sun Wukong has never tolerated the frivolous, and gambling would certainly be humongously frivolous to him. No villager has ever been known to ask Sun Wukong for 4-ekor (4 numbers), at least those know what would be in store for them if they were so foolish as to ask.
And Ginny was the ideal worshipper as she was a sweet simple lady, a devout Buddhist with no avarice in her heart. Poor as her family was, she lived a simple but happy life, devoting herself to her father, brothers and of course the worship of the gods in her house, including Sun Wukong.
Now it would appear that all then was honky dory for Thor and Ginny's family at her house for the nearly two years he parked himself there, until fickle Fate decided to stir things up a bit. Ironically, it all started with a friendly mah-jong game.
On one lazy Saturday afternoon - sun shining mildly through the protective shield of benevolent drifting stratocumulus clouds, gentle breeze to mitigate against the humidity and heat, birds chirping, kaytee quaffing iced kopi-aw provided by sister Ginny - Thor, two of Ginny’s brothers and yours truly were fooling around with a friendly mah-jong game al fresco beneath the canopy of a beautiful jambu air tree (wax apple - syzygium samarangense) just beside her house, with honey bees buzzing around the cottony jambu blooms.
No money was involved in our game. With two of the players being Ginny’s younger brother and moi, just kids in their early teens, the no-real-money-for-fun stake was only natural. Where would we find money to gamble, nor could we, if we had money, afford to waste/chance money on gambling. The game was just a means of whiling away the time while indulging in kongsamkok* (idle talk).
* literally, talking about the ‘Romance of the 3 Kingdoms’, one of the four Chinese Classics – its episodes being favourite past time discussions for the more senior Chinese
Playing mah-jong with strangers without any agreed rules or rule book (usually available at all Chinese kong-kuan or social clubs) to govern the conduct of the game can be perilous as ‘rules’ of the game would vary from place to place, or more correctly, from ‘club’ to ‘club’. Though Thor was acknowledged by our group as the ‘expert’ on rules of mah-jong, somehow the elder of Ginny’s male siblings differed with him on a technical point during the course of the friendly game.
To cut the story short, their differences turned into such a heated argument so much so that the normally placid easy-going tidakapa (apathetic) Thor went ballistic. Over such small issues were friendship destroyed.
Needless to say, by that time the game was already long abandoned, with Thor then rushing into the house to pack up his meagre possessions. He left with a huff and puff, jumping on his bicycle to peddle away. Just as he was about to leave the garden gate, he stopped and returned to the house – he remembered his Sun Wukong. He retrieved the statuette from the altar.
But what he did next shocked everyone. After more than 20 over years I still recall that scene vividly. Just outside the house Thor, in an inexplicable fit of rage, hurled the porcelain figurine with enormous force on to the ground.
It shattered – well, what do you expect - and so did Ginny’s heart. She was totally devoted to Sun Wukong but Thor’s unexpected and senseless act of desecration brought home the painful truth that she wasn’t the owner.
We never saw Thor again though we heard about (not ‘from’) him from time to time. Why did Thor do such a crazy thing? Perhaps he knew his act of desecration would hurt a family member of the house he had stayed with for 20 over months and wanted to cause such a hurt, perhaps he was just unstable - as they say, only the gods knew.
That night Ginny went to bed with a heavy heart, sad that Thor would smash a scared icon, one she was personally devoted to. Eventually she fell asleep.
Though I wasn’t related to her family I was accepted as a member, and of course she had a soft spot for naïve kaytee wakakaka, a kind of favourite kid brother, one to whom she would from time to time confide her most inner secrets, frustrations and aspirations. Guess I was a good listener ;-).
Now what I am about to tell you next was told to me by Ginny herself. That night following Thor's act of desecration, she dreamed of Sun Wokong appearing before her. I had and still have no reason to disbelieve her as I know Ginny to be a very pious Buddhist. She wasn’t and isn’t the type to ever tell a lie.
As I said, Sun Wokong was a very stern god who wasn’t given to joking or teasing mere mortals. He came straight to the point on why he had come to Ginny in her dreams, with very precise instructions for her, as per the following:
(1) On the following Saturday Ginny was to punt on a 3-D number* given by him - according to Ginny, Sun Wukong stated the three numbers to her in a very clear voice, in her dream of course
* just for the purpose of rendering Ginny’s story easier for me to narrate, let’s give that 3-D number a notional ‘678’
(2) The bet was to be NOT MORE than 5 sens & Ginny was NOT to cover for eventualities of the number coming up in other than the 1st prize*
* I’m not sure about this but I believe in those days (some 20 years or more ago) 10 sens on a 3-D number would receive a dividend of RM65 if it was the top prize. Punters could also insure against their favourite number coming up in the 2nd or 3rd placing (in horse racing parlance, ‘place’ as different from ‘win’) by tripling up the bets. This meant that if Ginny was to cover all three bases (for the 1st, 2nd or 3rd prize winning number), she would have to pay 15 sens for a 5 sens bet. Anyway, in her case, for a 5 sens bet her dividend would be RM32.50 provided of course the notional ‘678’ came up as the top prize. If ‘678’ is drawn as 2nd or 3rd placing she won’t win, since Sun Wukong's very precise instruction was for her NOT to insure for a ‘place’
(3) The next day after the race day, with her winnings (RM32.50), she was to go to Pitt Street (now Jalan Masjid Kapitan Kling; Hokkien is Kuan-Im-Teng-Cheng) to a specifically named shop dealing in religious icons and other paraphernalia of worship.
(4) In that shop there would be an icon of Sun Wukong identical to the one Thor had smashed. The price for the icon would be RM25 – Ginny was to pay that price without bargaining.
(5) Then Ginny was to take the icon to the nearby Kuan Yin Temple for the ‘tiam gnan’ ceremony*
* for an explanation of what tiam gnan means see my post Dream No 1 - the God couldn't speak!
(6) The ang pow for the ‘tiam gnan’ ceremony was to be RM7.50, or what was left of the RM32.50 winnings after paying for the icon (note: the fee for the ‘tiam gnan’ rites was informal because there was no set fee for the service; it was up to the patron)
(7) The icon was to be taken back home and placed exactly on Sun Wukong’s previous position on the family devotional altar.
We can deduce from above that Sun Wukong, as mentioned, didn’t like gambling, and had only reluctantly provided Ginny with his ’numbers’ to gamble and win a fixed small sum to achieve a singular objective, for her to regain a Sun Wukong statuette to pray to. There was neither flexibility nor extra winnings permitted in her 3-ekor punt.
We also can note that the above divine instructions (as told to me by Ginny) were clear and unambiguously precise as to what Ginny had to do. These were in stark contrast to the way the humorous and quite mischievous Tua Peh Kong had toyed around with lil’ Hamlet in my previous post Dream No 1 - the God couldn't speak!
Well, to end the story, Ginny punted 5 sens on ‘678’. That evening ‘678’ was the top winning number. She never had any doubts that she would win the bet. Needless to say she went on to complete the rest of Sun Wukong's instructions.
When I visit Ginny’s house, as I did when I came back to Penang in March 2008 to vote in the general election, I couldn’t help but look up at her devotional altar. I saw Sun Wukong in all his splendour, and staring down sternly (wryly smiling?) at me, perhaps mocking me to ask him for a lucky 4-D number?
Wakakaka, I decline to accept his challenge!
As I never tire of quoting Shakespeare in his play, Hamlet, Act I, Scene V:
"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy."
1 comments:
Nice to read. Always enjoy reading your write-ups.
Post a Comment