21. How to...Beratang

In these credit-crunchy times it is important to beratang, something we’ve probably forgotten in these Me-times of the Me-generation and the growth of the individualistic, also known in Trengganuspeak as jamang aku-mung. Beratang can be used in many areas of life, as in beratang kereta (car-sharing), and beratang gatéh if your transport of choice is a tandem and the pedal-power is shared by you both. You can also beratang your efforts to make light work, as in beratang rèng or to increase its effect, as in beratang tumbok when two or more people get together to knock the daylights from say a shoplifter caught in the act.

In days when Cik Kalèh ruled the roads, you could not beratang his tèksi (i.e. a Trengganu trickshaw) with your mates and, like the Three Musketeers, pay one fare for all because you were all going to Kolang. But as the Kalèh transport was probably the only one in town that had an early version of the muzak — a transistor radio dangling on the handlebar — you could all beratang dengör (listen together) the latest version of the Trengganu hip-hop (rödat).

Though you can eat your food with someone who is without, and whilst the cost of a desired object can be spread, beratang is more a togetherness word than a burden spread. You can all eat together from one plate just as you can all watch together from the sideline (beratang keléh) as someone is knocked senseless by another in the crowd.

Makang Belang Jjalang* No. 1

If a trip is fuelled through the stomach, I have to thank many people. My cousin Azmi and his wife Na in Kuala Terengganu, and all their 3 wonderful children (Hafiz, Farhan & Aisyah) took us to feasts and snacks galore. In the mornings there was nasi dagang, and roti kaya with old-fashioned tèh susu, and lunches were an array of things in many places: nasi kerabu here and ikang singgang and belacang pounded with buöh kerining there, and then nasi benör at a town centre restaurant, and fine dining at the delightfully named De luxe Paradise later. In the afternoon Mi would say, “Let's go for some ikang celok tepong somewhere by the shore," and in spite of our protests, he took us there, and we did not regret it even a little. I made friends with many cats there, all fattened by eating ppala ikang, and Kak Teh couldn't take her eyes away from the shore. As a footnote I must add my thanks here (for the trip to the De Luxe Paradise) to Abang Lèh and cousin Yöh. I am delighted to add here too Abang Lèh's confession that he is actually the cousin of our famous teksi man Cik Kalèh (see GUiT), and of course I couldn't believe my ears. Thanks too to cousin Dah (see, 'Fish on a Bicycle', GUiT, p. 81) and Abang Muin for the sumptuous family reunion at their hacienda.

We were regalled with beluda (see, 'Beluda Hands, Singing Head', GUiT, p.75) courtesy of the wonderful Cik Gu Mat of the Persatuan Sejarah Terengganu. It was he who took us on the Beluda Trail that you probably saw on RTM1's Galeri Perdana, and we were fed beluda made by the talented Kak Pöh who also showed how beluda was made for RTM1's 'Galeri Perdana' and for Astro TV who were following yours truly. Cik Gu was (and still is) a wonderful man, he pored through GUiT and took note of the comestibles, and then he popped up at my public appearances in Kuala Terengganu and proferred me rokok arab and apék-apék and roti paung packed neatly in tupperware. Overwhelming kindness is hard to forget, and hard to get over, and I thank you Cik Gu.

I'd also like to thank Toh Puan Rosita, a fine lady of Terengganu, whose dining table heaved with many cakes of old. She brought back many tasteful memories, and she brought some delightful company too, my old classmates from Sultan Sulaiman Secondary School, and my class teacher from standard 4, Mrs Yeoh (wife of the eminent artist Mr Yeoh Jin Leng). In Kuala Terengganu my former classmate Toh Swee Choo (I hadn't seen her since the '60s) organised a reunion at another classmate's house (thank you Datin “Jöh” Khadijah) where I met Chua Chee Peng, Tan Yam Poy, Wan Fatimah Abdullah, Yusof Abdul Rahman, to name but a few — friends I hadn't seen since the day I left SSSS and Kuala Trengganu. Another person from my past, Dato Wee Cheng Huat, was also there. As Mr Wee he was my Form Teacher for 2 years at secondary school.

And then, another day at the Restoran Kuah Singgang (where I had the belacang with kerining), I was reunited with my SSS classmates Muhammad Embong (the boy from Lorong Jjamil, see 'To Each A Quarter', p. 145, GUiT), Omar Abd Rahman (who left SSSS to come back as its headmaster, and then later, as Trengganu's CEO), and Hashim Sulong, a friend from Kampong Kolam a stone's throw from the Istana (see GUiT, everywhere) who was also himself a talented artist at school. On the same day I heard on the phone a voice from the trishaw of many, many years ago, Lim Chee Hian (who, as C.H.Lim in GUiT, p. 166 supra, travelled with me and H.C.Tay to school, in Pök Mat's teksi). Another day I nearly had a heart attack when my cousin Mi said “Your old school teacher has just phoned, and he's coming to see you now.” It turned out to be my old Maths teacher, Mr Soh Kim Yew, who came all the way from Ipoh. I could still hear his voice, “I'm going to see your father!” for my unsatisfactory homework. When he arrived we hugged each other, and then he said it again, but in impeccable Trengganuspeak, “Aku nök gi jjupe pök mung!”

I trembled with laughter.

I'd like to keep KL for another time, but as it's food I'm talking about, I must thank my wife's people in Bangi (Lilah & Wan, Ajie & Nisah, Prof & Kak Chik, and Mak of course) for food aplenty — always — on their tables, and for our many trips to stalls, cafes and food centres; and also to my sister Wan Asma for being unstinting at the dining table, and for troubling to make me beleda and puding kkuöh as Cik used to make it, with agar-agar and with its milky sauce, and for the stirring hasidöh and the jjala mas that she packed for me to take back to Londra. To my nieces Kak Chik and Kak Long, and Cik Mun and my nephew Cik Mang, thanks for the many trips to Nasi Dagang Ulik Mayang, and to the Mamaks, and to various other food centres.

And thanks too to my brother Mil (Wan Abdul Rahim Kamil, GUiT, p.11) and wife Norlia for the food and the broadband whenever I called.

----------------------
*Eating on the trot.

Mat Sprong Ngilla Sapa Ddarak, III

Earlier episodes: I, II.

Ddarak macang-macang geröh buleh jjadi: nyiör buleh jatoh ddebök atah ppala bila dok tengöh jjalang, kaki buleh ssembak akör kayu, betis buleh ketik llipang atau patuk dulör, kalu kerengga, semuk gata tu mmalah nök kata je.

Bila bunyi seeeer! keluar dari belakang rök pohong kedudok ddalang gelak, suara kasör jereköh tubek tiba-tiba, lepah tu bbunyi pulök bising bbangör. Mat Sprong nnocak derah-derah dari tempat dia dok ccacang, seluör dia ngeccik sikik kena pacör.

“Ba’ape yang mung dök jjuruh sangak ning? Mung dök napök ke aku dok ccakong belakang ning?” Suara serök keluör dari balik pohong kedudok, hök daungnya kena ngeccik bau hacing pperök tu keluar sorang tua paka kaing batik lepah sela sepinggang; Mat cepak-cepak angkat balik zip seluör. Cik Kaleh suloh denge lampu picik.

“Eh, Pök Soh, mitök maaf bbanyök, ambe dök buleh tahang sangat takdi, dah ketek-ketek benör,” kata Mat.

“Mak, ddarak ning mung kena uting mmölek sikik, jangang dok pacör ikut dang je!” Pök Soh kilah kaing mmolek, muka penöh tanda tanya.

Mat ppaling ke Cik Kaleh. “Ninglah hök aku dok cerita kat mung tu, hök nama Pök Soh tu,” dia kata.

“Takdi aku dok derumöh kering mölek-mölek ada, keluör sekejak je, hujang dök ribot dök habih basöh jjerok!” Kata Pök Soh lagi, selamba.

“Mitök maaflah Pök Soh, ambe denge Leh ning mari nök jjupa Pök Soh jugök, nök tanya pasa ngilla tu.” jawak Mat, ssipu-sipu.

Pök Soh jjalang dulu balik ke rumöh, Mat denge Cik Kaleh ikut dari belakang, muka Cik Kaleh kkeruk sebab dök buleh tahang nök suka.

Sapa ttanga, Pök Soh ambek air dari ppayang, jiruh kaing ssahang dia. “Guana aku nak cerita kat bining aku ning, mesti dia tömöh aku kecing ttikör,” dia kata sambil dia retak kaing dia ke udara.

“Mung katalah, döh nök geröh, nök wak guane!” sapok Mat.

* * *

Cik Kaleh denge Mat dudok bbawöh lapu pang. Pök Soh keluör paka kaing baru, batik Wang Mang dari Ttanjong Pata. Dia bawök naik jari dia ke muka sambil kkeruk hidong; dia nasihat Mat: “Laing kali kalu mung nök kecing ddalang rök janganglah makang peta!”

Mat denge Cik kaleh dök tahang, terus suka kik-kik!; bini Pök Soh keluör dari belakang tabir. Pulok lepa, ggenang, tepong bukus ssusong atah pinggang, ttepi talang ada dua gelas kopi o.

Tiba-tiba dari ddalang gelak, jauh dari belöh matahari naik keluör bunyi hök buat Cik Kaleh naik seria.

“Oook, ook! Ooooooooooo....” bbunying lagi.

Mat Sprong döh ddebör dak-dak, tapi dia cuba wak dök je, tangang kanang dia pegang bungkus kecik lleher, azimat hök dia dapat dari Tok Bbageh masa di negeri Sekebong Bunga. Semangak dia naik sikik, mata dia dok keleh ke tepung bungkus denge kuih ggenang.

“Ggininglah Mak, “ kata Pök Soh. “Mung dengör bunying setang tu takdi. Tulah hök wak Mök Soh mung dök jjuruh aröh tu, tidor dök lelak, mandi dök basöh, makang pong dök, minung pong nök kata dök kena.”

Mök Soh lenggök ke atah, leher dia kkeduk, muka ceköng sebab kurang tidor. “Ggininglah kita le ning, bila lelak mata je bbunying setang tu dari belakang rök balik atah kubor tu.”

“Oook, ook! Ooooooooooo....” bunyi tu mari balik, macang orang gila dok ngilla, macang anjing lekak ccelöh pagör.

“Gi Soh, ambek kelepèr aku cceloh pitu tu,” kata Mök Soh ke laki dia. Pök Soh ikut selalu, dök banyök soal.

“Höh Mak, ambek ni, mung buak belanja,” kata Mök Soh.

“Dök payöh, natilah dulu,” kata Mat. Dia tarik tangang dari pitis hök Mök Soh hulor tu.

Bila dia tengök peranga Mat, Pök Soh ambek pitis tu dari tangang bini dia. “Ambeklah Mak, kang mung nök buat belanja dulu,” dia kata sambil tangang dia masuk kköcek seluör Mat. Pah tu dia ciung jari dia dua-tiga kali.

* * *

Jjalang balik Cik Kaleh göhek teksi dia ikut Jalang Paya Bunga, pötöng ikut Jalang Ceröng Lanjut, dök lalu ikut jerak Cina. Mat dok nnengung bbawöh hood, mata dia kelik-kelik dok ikut angang-angang di ppala.

“Ba’ape tadi mung Mak?” tanya Cik Kaleh bila teksi lalu bbawöh cahaya lapu kuning Jalang Pejabak Jang Besör.

“Ba’ape Leh?” jawab Mat, kkejut, bangung dari khayal.

“Takdi mung buak macang lebai, tak mboh pitis hök Mok Soh beri.”

“Kenalah ggitu, Leh. Kerja mata gelak ning dökleh lah buak löklak sangak, macang göhek teksi,” kata Mat. Cik Kaleh cerlöng sapa ppinör mata.

Kemudiang dia ccakak balik. “Mak, takdi aku tengök jalor kaing Pök Soh tu.”

Mat dök kata apa. Mata dia dok sölör bayang-bayang balik pohong ru.

“Aku tengök jalor patat kaing hök kena kecing mung tu, ada tiga jalor kuning, dua ija, tiga kuning,” kata Cik Kaleh.

“Apa kena ngenne denge apa-apa ni, Leh?” tanya Mat.

“Döklah, aku ingak mölek nombor tu kalu aku gi tikang ekör.”

Noteh: Cerita ning rekaang semata-mata. Kalu ada orang atau tepak hök sama macang ddalang ning, tu kebetolang je.

Mat Sprong Ngilla Sapa Ddarak II

Part II of the latest exploits of Trengganu's most famous private dick, Mat Sprong. For Part I, go here.

Mat Sprong göbör perok, dada ddebor dak-dak. Dalang hati dia ada dua perasaang dok nnoneng: nak tahu ccapor denge takut. Di leher dia ada ggatong kaing kuning bbalot satu benda kecik, diikat denge tali hitang keliling tekök — macang ddalang cerita hindustang bila orang muda nök gi ggomo denge pok sauk. Kadang-kadang dia berasa serabuk, tapi kerja kena buak jugök sebab pitis takdok sekepeng ddalang pokek.

Bila lepah pejabak polis, Cik Kaleh pèro teksi dia ke kanang, takdök orang laing setarang habok, dök napok ssatu benda, cuma nnatang kecik sepuluh dua-belas ekor dok terbang ddalang cahaya malap lampu teksi Cik Kaleh, bunyi ggateh dia kerek-kerek dddalang gelap.

“Ba’ape yang mung bawök aku ikut Jalang Jèrak ni Leh, bukang mung tau aku dok tengöh seria perok?” Tangang Mat kketör sikik-sikik, ppeloh nneleh dari ppala dia, panas sejok, panas sejok.

Mula-mula Cik Kaleh buak dök, dia gateh teksi making jauh masuk ddalang malang pekat, gelak gelemat. Krek-krek! Krek-krek!

“Aku dök tau Mat,” kata Cik Kaleh tiba-tiba bila teksi dia lalu ddepang pokok sena dekat jalang bekok.

“Apa yang mung dök tau Leh?” tanya Mat, ppala dia ppaling kkiri kanang sambil dia dok ngellik bbawöh hood. Dari jauh bbunying macang burong hantu, ook-ook. Ddepang jalang sekor bewök nnitah, macang beroya darak. Cik Kaleh pèro kkanang cepak-cepak, Mat masuk ccelöh jari hood teksi sapa ppala dia keresök. Mat dök kata apa-apa, dengör suara Cik Kaleh je ddalang gelak, “Hisy nnatang bewök ning, kalu aku langgor mapuh kerah kang!”

“Mak, aku dök tau mung paka azimak,” tiba-tiba Cik Kaleh tukör tajok. “Aku dok tengok dari takdi dok koteng-koteng bbawöh dagu mung macang buah gomok. Mung ingat aku dök napok.”

Mat lepas selalu jari dia hök dok urut tali azimak di keliling tekök. Mula-mula dia nök buat dök je bila dengör kata Cik Kaleh tapi dia tahu kalu dia wak ggitu making lama jjadi making parök.

“Tapi ba’ape yang mung bawak kita lalu kot Jalang Jèrak malang-malang nnari ning, mung dök takut ke?” tanya Mat.

Making masuk jauh ddalang gelak making bising bbunyi kerek-kerek ggateh teksi Cik Kaleh ddalang keadaang senyap sunyi. Dari jauh napok api di tiang Wailis; bunyi burung hantu uuuuuk, uuuuk! making dekat. Perut Mat making kecut, tapi Cik Kalih molek-molek ada, ketör pong dök, sejuk pong dök.

“Kang mung suroh aku bawök mung gi ddarak? Kot ninglah dekat,” dia jawab.

Mat ngelloh panjang, mata tengök ssana sining, mmusing ligak. “Nasib baik aku ada paka azimak ning, Leh, kalu tidök habih macang-macang jenis polong keluör nngusek. Tapi mung gohek dderas sikik aku döh nök kecing ketik-ketik!”

“Aku tau mung takut Mak, tapi mung jangang pacör kecing ddalang teksi aku nati sia maja orang takmboh naik setabok,” Cik Kaleh angkat suara dia, bbunyi macang ggaung dalang gelak.

“Leh, mung jangang buak beraning. Bila kita sapa ddarak aku nök tunjok kat mung nnatang jing hök dok usek aku. Lepah tu aku nök bawök mung gi rumöh ttina garek hök upöh aku selesa masaalöh dia ning,” jawab Mat.