One Sunday, 12 days into Syawal, I was subjected to a 10-hour roller coaster Hari Raya visits, it left me spinning, not from the overabundance of gassy drinks but the overwhelming realisation that I actually survived the ordeal.
It began as early as 9:30am. I used to scorned at all these never ending raya visits and being embarrased to be seen togged in festival finery after two weeks of Hari Raya. But all that has changed the minute I signed that paper to officially announce me as someone else's property.
Now, we all know that Hari Raya visits are meant to bridge the generation gap and to foster/link/reaffirm relationships with your relatives especially now that you seldom get to meet and gather, what with the hectic work/school/social life. It's the time to reflect and seek forgiveness from each other on past misdeeds bla bla bla. At least, that is what we were taught.
And so, with years of growing up in that environment and managing one or two house visits a day, it no longer came as a surprise after 8 years of marriage that we can squeeze countless house visits in one day. This thing can only happen if it involves my parents-in-law.
After the languid, relaxed, laid back visits on my side of the family on the first week of Hari Raya, the attack came as soon as the obligatory 6 day fast is over for my in-laws. On the first available Sunday morning, while I was lazing over in bed, pondering whether I should pluck the roots of the taugehs in the fridge or to put henna on my toes, the phone shrilled rudely.
From hubby's tone, I knew it's his mom on the other end and before I knew it, found myself spending the next hour frantically tornado-ing around getting ready for the event. By the time hubby came out from his 45 minute shower and dressed, I had washed the clothes, cleaned the kitchen, ironed the baju kurungs, vacuumed and mopped the house, threw out the trash, bathed and dressed the kids and lock up the windows while picking up abandoned toys and straightening the furniture in the process. I am so good at this.
Once hubby said "Let's Go!!", I had barely enough time to put on my crystals laden baju kurung and tudung (I know it's unpractical as the weather is so hot but knowing MIL who would look down her nose at my normal baju kurungs as untasteful and begger-like, I'd rather look like a christmas tree than avoid any confrontations with her). I slapped on my make up in the lift while herding the kids, put on the lipstick while walking towards the car and managed the mascara over two traffic light stops. I should get an award for this.
We spent the whole day practically racing from one relative house to the other and spent an average of 10 minutes in each house. It was becoming more like a precised army drill with with my mother-in-law (MIL) holding the honourable position as the Sergeant Major. Armed with her little grey notebook, she has mapped out every relative's house and which area to visit first. There will be two cars, mine and my brother-in-law (BIL). Since dear BIL could not drive to save his life, his very pregnant wife (SIL) will have to manage.
So there we were, 2 couples, 5 kids (2 of which is mine and the rest belonged to BIL and SIL making it a total of 4 boys and 1 girl), one Sergeant Major and one very old Father-in-law (FIL) who walks like, in the words of Danial, The Undertaker who took forever to reach the ring amidst the dramatic hooha. My FIL is another character altogether. He didn't walk. He shuffles. All thanks to hours of watching TV instead of walking around exercising after his bypass surgery, stubborn, unhealthy diet and the ability to filter out MIL's 70 decibel nagging. The odd thing is, the more my MIL nags, the more he would get on her nerves. This trip was no different. I don't remember hubby switching on the radio that day.
The whole thing was utter madness and since I do not have any say in this, I just smiled and played follow-the-leader. Where the great MIL is involved, it's best to shut up and do not voice out any concerns, doubts or violent objections. Since she's hard of hearing, she might mistook whatever you say, albeit in good intention and think you're being rude.
The most unbelievable and absurdest thing happened at Bedok. My MIL's cousin lived on the 15th floor of a point block. Her first greeting was "Tidor????!" loudly at the person who opened the door. She would do this at every house, assuming that everyone is asleep just because they close the front door. I would be offended by this but maybe her cousins were used to her way of greeting and jested back (well, some of them do). As expected, we stayed for a short while because we have to rush to another cousin's house.
Halfway down the lift, she told us to stop at the 4th floor where the daughter of the earlier cousin lived. That was not in our itinary but she insisted that we "stop for a short while and say hello". Once inside, there were already 2 families there. There were only 2 kids from that family. We sat down and the kids trooped over to the balcony to watch the hamsters on a three deck pedestal. What happened next saw me as the only adult witness to an incident that left the youngest (and plumpest) one and only grandaughter of the Sergeant Major wailing the house down.
One kid pushed another kid and that kid fell on Matin who fell and hit Wiyah. It's like seeing dominoes falling, I tell you. Being the largest, Wiyah's plump legs hit the table where the triple deck cages were and the next thing we knew, the cages toppled, hitting both Matin and Wiyah who screamed as the hamsters were scurrying around. Luckily the cages were intact and no hamsters escaped but sawdust and water flew everywhere. I quickly grabbed Matin and hid him behind the sofa but the wailing of the dearest granddaughter is enough to make sergeant major spring into action. Right there and then, she ordered everyone of us to leave.
The homeowner (very confused with the sudden surge of guests) was going "wait, wait, drink first" and my MIL was like "No need, no need, we're rushing off now. We have to hurry bla bla bla". Her face was tight. There was a lot of commotion. It was totally chaotic and Wiyah was wailing her very own symphony. Utter pandemonium!!
Then she turned, as if she couldn't believe her eyes that we're still sitting there on the sofa goes "What are you all waiting for? We're leaving now!" My exhausted-looking SIL and I apologised profusely to the homeowner feeling rather bad about the whole thing while MIL was going on and on about "rushing somewhere and having to leave immediately". While the other two families stared at our sideshow, I quickly grabbed my two boys and herded them out.
My poor FIL who has just shuffled his way to the front gate (we somehow forgot about him and left him still shuffling on the 15th floor!!!) asked "We're going off already?". Seeing the shocked look on his face and if not for the tense atmosphere, I would have laugh hysterically at the totally ridiculous situation.
Hubby was worried that we might have offended the homeowner. He wasted no time in raising his concerns to his mom. But drill sergeant was so absorbed in her dearest grandaughter's trauma that she snapped "There were too many children in there! I got a headache seeing so many children around" She was so caught up with everything that she failed to realise that the "many children" are actually her own grandchildren.
She mollycoddled the one and only grandaughter to the point of bringing her to sit in our car and banished FIL from our car. FIL shuffled to BIL's car and the very noisy, 3 generation family finally pulled out from the carpark much to the relief of the residents living there.
This did not stop her from gallivanting to more houses. By the time we cleared the last house, it was almost midnight, my poor SIL's feet were swollen from all that driving (her clutch pedal was too tight) and Matin was irritable from the lack of sleep. I was beginning to seriously wonder if Allan Wu and all his camera crew will be waiting at our front door declaring us the $1m winner of this unbelievable race.
At home, I reflected on the day and wondered what was the meaning of these visits anyway. Where is the love after leaving a house in a huff? Where is the silaturrahim? Where is the sincere apologies and forgiveness when you come in, say hi and leave in two minutes? What's the point?Was it to cover all the houses and tell yourself, you've visited all your relatives? If you don't wish to stop at certain houses, why force yourself to go? Why hurt yourselves and others in the process?
I can foresee these events happening again in the years to come and I've come to the conclusion that if they think it's right, then, so be it. If you can't beat them, then you join them, even if you don't really volunteer for it.
As for me, I can think of better ways to spend the 12th day of Syawal and it wouldn't involve any gallivanting across the island. I'd be perfectly happy painting henna on my toenails or plucking a big bowl of taugeh in front of the TV.
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