A Sweep of History

Olney...dedicated to the heritage craft.

In a world of mass-produced goods, there is always a special place for handcrafted objects.

Warren Olney is a craftsman dedicated to the art of handmade brooms, and it was a pleasure to chat and learn from him when I met him at a fair.

Born and raised in Pasadena, he is now based in Oregon. He learnt to make brooms from his father, and that was the start of his lifelong passion. He travels all over the country displaying and sharing his knowledge of this American heritage craft with the public.

When asked how long it would take for one to be a good broom-maker, Olner was modest in his answer and said: “I’m still learning.”

The brooms are made from the sorghum plant, grown in Texas, and he uses an interesting-looking broom-making machine. Like many objects made with personal attention, the handcrafted brooms are built to last. One customer told Olney that the broom that he bought from him had lasted 17 years.

At the same time, these brooms are valued not only for efficiency and durability, but also for its link to history. When talking about the subject, Olney likes to take the listeners on an imaginary trip to the pioneer days when salesmen brought their household wares on peddler wagons. “Each wagon specialized in one type of goods. For example, one would be selling brooms, another tin plates,” he elaborated. He writes about the history of broom-making on his website http://www.broomshop.com.

Olney is teaching his grandchildren who are in their 20s the craft of broom-making, and he hopes that they will expand their interest in the craft in the future.

I guess I always have a soft spot for handmade brooms. One of the items from my childhood in Singapore was the broom that my grandmother made to clean the yard. Of course, unlike Olney, she was an amateur, a resourceful homemaker. And being in the tropics, the coconut tree provided the material for the broom. She used the stiff midrib of the coconut leaves to make what is known as penyapu lidi, or stick broom.

Learning history through household objects: always so colorful and enjoyable.

Olney enjoys discussing the history of broom-making with the public.

The brooms are made from sorghum.

The note explains that this is one of the first brooms made in the pioneer period, and that it would be found next to the fireplace.

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Memories of Whitney Houston’s Concert in Singapore

(pic:tvline)

I remember a year in the 1990s, when it was announced in the media that Whitney Houston would be performing in Singapore, there was an excited buzz among her many fans in Singapore and Malaysia.

A fan myself, I was happy to be able to attend the concert and to see Whitney perform.

When Whitney walked onstage, I could see that she looked as beautiful in person as she did in the videos. Like all true talent, she brought her own brand of magnetism to the room.

I remember there was an announcement that the air-conditioning in the venue would be switched off because Whitney had concerns about its effect on her voice. I suppose it could be due to the contrast between the cool air of the air-conditioning and the hot, humid air on the outside, something that could effect discomfort to the throat in tropical countries.

The fans didn’t mind. It was a fast-paced concert; Whitney thrilled the fans with her hits. She saw a group of young men and women near the stage who looked like African-Americans. Curious, she asked them: “Where are you guys from?” She didn’t quite catch the answer, and asked them again. “Cuba! Cuba!” they all shouted together.

At one point, an assistant came out with a small towel. Whitney perfunctorily wiped her face with it, then playfully threw it to the audience who jostled to catch it.

Soaring voice, incredible range, beautiful songs. Thank you for all the music.

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Hari Raya in April

Sometimes, the beauty of Eid comes to greet us in different ways.

When I was in Singapore earlier this year, my cousins hosted a small, informal gathering where we gathered with our aunts, uncles and members of the younger generation.

One of my aunts cooked Hari Raya, or Eid, food – ketupat, sambal udang Palembang and curry, knowing that I probably would not be back for Hari Raya.

“Eat up. Hari Raya in advance,” they all quipped.

This Hari Raya, I am again away from family and my cultural home. But the memory of the Hari Raya dishes that I had enjoyed at that gathering in Singapore sustains me; because the food was made, shared and enjoyed together with generosity and love.

And that, I think, is one of the timeless blessings of Hari Raya.

Selamat Hari Raya/ Best Wishes for a Blessed Eid.

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Empathy for Rude People? No Way.

Being the recipient of rudeness is a bummer.

On my recent stay in Singapore, I encountered several instances of rudeness displayed by the service employees.

Here are two instances: one, at a downtown shopping mall, I approached the information desk where the girl manning it was reading a magazine. When I started with “Excuse me…”, she barked “Yah..” without looking up, as though I was interrupting her reading while she was lying on the sofa in her living room.

Another was a dreadful episode at Terminal 3, Singapore International Airport. My friend and I were placing our order at the coffee/toast stand. Another customer returned to the counter to retrieve something. So I move away from my friend to make space for him.

Then another of the workers, a woman carrying out some task behind the counter nearer to me, said “What?” to me with such a harsh tone and an ugly expression that I was shocked, and was caught totally off-guard.

I didn’t escape rudeness when I was up in the air. The Singapore Airline (SIA) flight went smoothly until a stewardess rolled her eyes when she couldn’t hear me. Since I paid a pretty good sum for the airfare, I wasn’t about to let such treatment go. I wrote a letter of complaint at the SIA website. I must say SIA’s response was prompt and very professional.

And rudeness persisted even after I crossed the International Date Line. At the San Francisco International Airport, I was at the immigration counter manned by an officer with the name tag Zhu. She pointed out that I had omitted to fill in a small section of the customs form. And then she added “Didn’t you read?’ After an 18-hour flight, that sarcasm really went down badly. Why couldn’t she be more professional: just ask me to complete the form, and skip the juvenile remark.

There are some motivation/inspiration writers and a school of thought that say that we should try to feel empathy or compassion for people who are rude; maybe they had a bad day or face some problems. Well, I’m not capable of being magnanimous to such individuals. They have no consideration for my feelings; why should I consider theirs.

To me, rude people, like racists, are crude individuals who are on their own sad little power trip. The world can do with less of their negativity and sour spirit.

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Can’t Sleep Without a Hair Dryer

A hair dryer lulls this woman to sleep. (Pic: msnbc)

Strange, really strange behavior. That went through my mind when I saw a clip of a new TV series “My Strange Addiction” recently.

This series will feature people with unusual addictions, and what got my interest going was a woman named Lori, who could not sleep unless her hair dryer is lying next to her.

It began at the age of eight when Lori started sleeping with a hair dryer running. Since then she likes the comfort that the hair dryer gives her, even though it has caused some burns on her arms and some romantic relationships.

Well, I know that there are many people who like to have something fuzzy or furry like a teddy bear to take to sleep. In Asian countries like Singapore and Malaysia, many children and some adults are addicted to sleeping hugging a bolster. In fact, the Malay name for a bolster is bantal peluk, which literally means hugging pillow.

But a hair dryer: now that is new.

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Birds Make the Best Music

The mynah can be trained to sing and speak; and ours was the darling of the neighborhood. (pic: photos8.com)

It has to be one of the best sounds in the world. I’m referring to the singing of birds.

The rearing of songbirds has traditionally been a well-loved pastime in Singapore and Malaysia. Enthusiasts spend hours training the birds to sing a tune, and pampering the adored creatures with special food and tricks to make them better crooners.

The mynah or burung tiong is particularly treasured for its singing ability. In my kampung or childhood home, we had a mynah named Gincu, the Malay word for lipstick. It was trained to sing, speak and do a little jig. Whenever it noticed a passer-by, it would say in its wonderfully clear voice “Gincu tabik tuan” which means “Gincu salutes you, sir”.

Despite his limited vocabulary, Gincu was a popular guy in the neighborhood; more popular than some of the humans who lived there!

Today, personally, I’m not comfortable with the idea of birds being caged. But I still love the chirping and singing of birds. In spring, when the day is sunny, different birds come to my backyard and the surrounding ones with their own little melodies.

To me, that’s the beauty and highlight of spring.

I found these birds and their friends in the backyard one morning.

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The Life of a Malay Wedding

Iqbal and Haslina arrived in traditional Malay costume for the bersanding ceremony, the day’s main event.

A wedding is like a microcosm of life. Family, friends, hope, past, present and future all meet on that special day.

On my recent trip home, I was fortunate to attend the wedding of my cousin’s daughter, Haslina. It was wonderful to meet again so many people who have been a part of my life, including former neighbors whom I have not met in years.

Though the Malay community in Singapore lives in a thoroughly modern city, much of our heritage still permeates our lives. For instance, weddings still remain big, community affairs. This dates back from the kampung (which means village) days when all the neighbors and relatives pitched in to help with the preparations and celebrations. And relatives from Malaysia, and sometimes Indonesia, made the trip over to spend a few days with their relatives on the island.

The number of guests can easily be between 500 to 1,000 people. We have a large extended family, and my cousin Rashid is active in the community, so his guest list was quite extensive. There was a constant stream of guests from lunch time till dinner time.

Malays have been pretty adaptable people and have found ways to merge or synthesize the new and the old. In the old days, tents were set up in the front yard for the wedding celebrations. Today, most Singaporeans live in high-rise flats and apartments. To accommodate the number of guests, the spacious lobby of the apartment building, or what is known locally as the void deck, is utilized as the wedding venue. I think this is a uniquely Singaporean feature.

The newlyweds taking a little rest.

Weddings used to be the launching pad for budding musicians who entertained the guests. Today, live music is not such a common feature of weddings. Haslina’s wedding had a band which played Hindi songs, and it was really fun listening to the popular hits.

On Haslina’s side, we celebrate our Malay and Indian Muslim roots, while the groom, Iqbal, celebrates his Pakistani traditions. And this was seen in the costumes and the two groups of musicians and dancers, the kompang and the bhangra, that heralded the arrival of the couple.

Haslina and Iqbal make a wonderful couple, adding another branch to our kinship tree. And thanks to my cousin Rashid and his wife Masita for giving me an opportunity to get close to my heritage and all the folks that I cherish.

The sounds of the kompang (Malay hand drum) musicians bring excitement at a wedding as they signal the arrival of the bride and groom.

The bhangra musicians arriving. Bhangra, a dance and music which originated in the Punjab region of India and Pakistan, is popular at weddings which celebrate a connected heritage.

Family and guests gathered to watch the bhangra dancers. (Watch the video clip below.)

The band entertained the guests with classic and new Hindi songs.

The “kitchen” area is the unseen HQ of a Malay wedding, serving briani rice and side dishes to a constant stream of guests.

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Dedicated to Vote

I have always been amazed how women all over the world make a strong commitment to vote.

I continue to be fascinated by the fact that across generations, even in countries where women are perceived to have a low profile in public life, women make the effort to make their way to the polling stations, and often stand for hours to make their voices heard.

My thoughts on this issue were awakened when I thought of my grandmother and grandaunt. Like many women from their generation,they were not highly educated and their lives revolved mainly around domestic concerns.

But when elections came around in Singapore, they were tremendously eager to participate.

On election day, you could feel the excitement in the household early in the morning. I remember watching my grandmother prepare for the event in the same manner as though she was going to a wedding. She would carefully select a kebaya (traditional Malay blouse) and a sarong from her cupboard. And before she left the house, she would don a matching selendang (scarf), and a dab of her favorite cologne. I imagine her friends did the same. At any rate, they were always the first to arrive at the polling station, well groomed and fresh.

Many years forward, I watched clips of Iraqis voting in 2005. I am against the war in Iraq, but I was still amazed at the womenfolk’s dedication in going out to vote, in what was said to be the country’s first democratic election in 50 years. And this week, the world saw the same enthusiasm from the women in Iran.

I believe the reason for this dedication is that for some women, voting is the biggest, or in same instances, the only chance for them to impact public life, or to have a say in it.

In general, women take part in the bluster and  intrigue of politics in much smaller numbers than men.  But women are experts at running daily lives, including navigating the nooks and corners of life  that are not glamorous but necessary for normal functioning. Perhaps intuitively, they know that whatever decisions made by the elected government will have repercussions that seep deep down into these nooks and corners.  And they will have the main responsibility to deal with them, away from the public eye.

And so, to all women voters in the world, past, present and future, and especially to those who have to walk longer or harder to get to the polling stations, we salute you.

Iranian women voting in the city of Qom. (Pic from TPM, Newscom/AFP)

Maasai women voting in western Kenya in 2008. (Pic from BBC News)

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Musings in June

The month of June, in many parts of the world, spells vacations and flowers. It  marks the beginning of the months when flowers are blooming bright and strong, courtesy of the summer sun.

Flowers are one of nature’s finest gifts to us. They not only enliven the home, but can also improve our emotional health. Behavioral research shows that the presence of flowers in one’s surroundings triggers happy emotions in both men and women.

Flowers have a long-term positive effect on a person’s mood, and being in the presence of flowers promote increased contact with family and friends.

Talking about flowers, I have observed that it is not so common nowadays to find people with floral names. Some time back, we could come across or meet people named Rose, Lily, Daisy or Dahlia. I guess today, these names sound old-fashioned, and maybe uncool to some.

It’s the same in my Malay culture, although I think the floral names went out of style earlier than the Anglo-Saxon ones.  Names like Melati or Melur (jasmine)and Cempaka (frangipani, also know as plumeria)  are now associated with ancient times or what we call zaman purba. And for some people, these names often recall fictional characters in Malay movies and novels set in the old days. If you are a fan of old Malay movies, perhaps these names remind you, as they do for me, of actress Latifah Omar who was so good in her roles as the kampung (village) beauty.

The best things about flowers is that they are a universal language of beauty. And so, I’m sharing photos of flowers from both sides of the Pacific. The daisy  and godetia are from my garden in California, and the other two were taken at a beach resort in Bintan Island, Indonesia.

I love these daisies for the cheery color, and the flowers bloom continuously.

The spider lily could be found in many gardens in my old neighborhood in Singapore. But with development, they were not easily seen. I first heard the name of the flower when I was a kid. It fired up my imagination as I began to wonder and imagine that the spider had a hand in creating or weaving the flower. Thus, when I saw the lily in Bintan, it was charmingly nostalgic.

Flowers and water: an unbeatable combination for tranquility.

I discovered the godetia flowers this year. It is actually a wildflower, and the pink hue adds a sparkle to the garden.

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March Musings

The iris in my garden has just bloomed. They are always the first flower to appear, signaling the arrival of spring and warmer weather.

But this March  finds me crossing the Pacific Ocean, and back in Singapore and Malaysia visiting friends and family, and taking care of some matters.

It has taken a while to get used to the heat, but there is always the refuge of air-conditioned malls and eating places. It has been wondeful catching up with all the important people in my life, and meeting some new ones as well.

I spent two wonderful days at a close relative’s wedding .  Besides the gaiety of a wedding, I find the festivity to be a microcosm of the different cultural and generational influnces that are part of my extended family, and society. I will be posting photos and videos of the wedding soon.

So far, I have been mainly in the cities, and some of the initial effort involved getting used to the crowds. And needless to say, it has been superb sampling all the local food again. I have to slow down on a couple of days, as I still have many more dishes to go!

At the same, I’m always amazed at the food sellers and others who continue to keep the traditional food and trades alive and thriving, amidst all the modernity that continuously sprouts around them. I will feature these “unsung heroes” in my blog soon, as well.

Journeys to the place where you grew up often offer a bag of emotions and reflections. It is a good way to welcome spring, even if the season does not exist in the tropics.

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