Strength of a woman

After more than a year procrastinating the idea of blogging, I'm getting my act together and making this happen. Too much time was wasted on worrying over what-should-I-write and how-should-I-write and when-should-I-write that I found myself...simply not writing at all. How typical of me. I have to sincerely thank my friends and loved ones for their sugar-coated words of encouragement - "you can write la", "you should write la", "I'd definitely read if you write". Yes, I let my low self-confidence kick in but I figured I should do this, for personal contentment as much as for you guys out there. So here's to the beginning of my online blabbering and hopefully, what should be, the end of my lengthy, never-ending personalised e-mail attacks on you poor sore-eyed victims.

I wondered, "what should my first entry be?" and found an answer clearly over the weekend.

Saturday, 31st July 2004, was the day we celebrated my maternal grandmother's birthday. It's an annual occassion that unites each and every member of the family. Even Chinese New Year comes second. Relatives travel north and south, all to arrive at one meeting point - granny's home in Malacca. One by one, cars will arrive like teams in a treasure hunt. All the hellos and how are yous, greeting uncles, aunties and cousins from the gate of the house right through to the kitchen. By lunch time, 70% of us had arrived. The ladies prepared lunch and we had a feast of fried yee-mee (noodles), roasted suckling pork (all the way from Singapore), beancurd, and the traditional birthday yummies of red-dyed eggs and ang-ku-kuehs (sweet local delicacy with green beans paste).

There was laughter and noise all around.

The highlight for the afternoon was my cousin sister, Chris's, graduation from MMU. Neatly framed studio pictures were passed around from hand to hand, followed by wooohs and waaaahs. Granny's really proud to see her second grandchild to wear the mortar board. The mother of seven children, 4 girls and 3 boys, she thought she'd never live to see the day her own son returned home with his degree from New Zealand. Today, she has seen beyond that and I sure do pray she gets to see her great-grandson, (my cousin nephew) Han, graduate as he completes his matriculation this year and embarks on his degree.

There was laughter and noise all around.

After-lunch activities were divided into groups of gin rummy/mahjong sessions, gossips, the afternoon nappers, my uncles plucking around 20 coconuts from the tree, and a drive to Jonker Street and Mahkota Parade in the city. I decided to join the last group, with cousins Jeffrey and Jarrod and the latter's girlfriend, Mun Mun. I wanted to explore the streets of Malacca with my new baby...my Canon IxusIIs. Even after 20 over years of being in and out of Malacca, the historical city still fascinates me.



Every walk along Jonker Street would be incomplete without a visit to the fabulous ice-kacang (shaved ice dessert) shop. The gula melaka (brown palm sugar) syrup is simply FANTASTIC! Poured on your preferred choice of cendol (shaved ice dessert with rice and tapioca flour jelly, brown palm sugar and coconut milk) or ice kacang, the thick and sweet taste topped with coconut/ condensed milk is essential to complete the trip.

When we got back, the remaining 30% had arrived and the clan was complete, excluding a few others who are in the United States and Terengganu. Everyone was getting prepared for dinner. You see, in a house of two toilets and a bathroom, it takes quite sometime for 30 over family members to take their bath, put on their best suits and for the ladies to get their make-up done. You'd see us ladies at every corner of the house armed with compact mirrors to get that mascara done in the most professional, non-smudge angles, under the dimmest of lights. The theme of the night was RED thanks to my cousins June and Jennifer. Most if not all, were dressed in shades of maroon, bright red, pink and fuschia. Boy, were we going to make a bold and bright statement at the restaurant!

Dinner was simple and delicious. From longevity noodles to the four seasons, sea cucumber with mushrooms and steamed cod fish, fried yam with condiments and steamed duck with wasabi/vinegar sauce. YUMMY! All in all, it was the presence of our family tree that added the extra spice. Top that with some silly jokes from my Uncle Tony, joy was certainly in the air.

There was laughter and noise all around.

Then came the birthday cake. For unknown reasons, the adults were in a more singing and dancing mood compared to the previous year. I'd have to say this year's family and group pictures are the best so far.

My grandmother turned 96 this year. Yes, that wasn't a typo error. She is to me, the epitome of a woman's strength. Both in and out. For her sacrifices and struggles and taking up each and every challenge that came her way all these years. It isn't a smooth ride, coming from Hainan Island to a foreign land. To be all alone, to learn the native language, to make friends, to adapt, to continue growing, to take care of, to survive. I'm sure many of you whose grandparents were from mainland China can relate to my story.

Unlike many of you, I never had the kind of relationship grandkids have with their grandpas and grandmas. I never got the opportunity to meet my paternal grandparents. I wish very much that I did. I would've LOVED to meet both my Ah Yeh (paternal grandfather) and Ah Ma (paternal grandmother). I know I would've enjoyed conversations with my Ah Yeh as I'm told he speaks perfect English and came from Shanghai. I am equally sure of the same love for my Ah Ma as she is one of the humblest, most modest women my dad has ever met in his life. I also have never met my maternal grandfather. He passed away when my mum was pretty young. My granny took care of her four daughters until she met her second husband and gave birth to three sons. He was the only grandfather I knew and has passed on more than 10 years ago.

With my granny, there's a communication barrier. We don't speak the same language and I have never mastered the Hainanese dialect. Throughout the years, I have learned to listen but my speech is still quite pathetic. Despite not being able to converse smoothly with my granny, it doesn't prevent me from seeing beyond just the talk. My love and admiration for her still remains. I gain an incredible amount of inspiration from her and I guess it's because she happens to also be an only child and I can relate to that. The way she carries herself and goes through the obstacles in life motivates me to be better and never to quit. This may sound silly but I do see a common trait - strength. I may not have it in me to nurture and bring up seven kids, but I definitely have inner strength that will grow through the years.

The strength of a woman is not measured by her age. It's not measured by her beauty. It isn't physical. Neither is it through her position in the corporate ladder. The strength of a woman comes from within. Just because a woman cries and is emotional doesn't symbolise weakness. And that fact justifies why a man is allowed to cry without feeling shame. I personally know that my very reason for crying is disappointment. Tears fall when I'm disappointed. It could differ for others. But it doesn't mean you're weak. A woman's strength is understood through her thoughts and her actions.

A couple of years ago, I bought a book from Borders Singapore titled, "The Good Women of China." The stories left me with a profound insight and I was determined to be strong and keep on going.

Now before you start typecasting me as one of those all-for-women-anti-men individuals (or have you already done that?!), bear in mind, I'm very much supportive of the male population and their efforts in life. I emphatise with the blood, sweat and tears fathers go through in order to make ends meet for the family. Most often than not, you can catch me being more of dad's cheerleader than mum's. I am aware of the challenges involved in the process of growing from a boy to man - the whole tough outlook and pressure to achieve...and I didn't need a brother in order to see that. And TRUST me, I think I've met the most psycho of mothers. The kind you NEVER would know or believe exist. I believe I am quite just in my views and am not here representing any gender in particular.

Just last week, I caught the First Lady of California, Maria Shriver, appearing on Oprah. This wasn't the first time watching her being interviewed, but I believe that the best has to always be with Oprah, as they candidly share their thoughts, being friends of many years since their days of journalism. Many of you may know Maria as "the wife of..." Arnold Schwarzenegger and to some, a member of the Kennedy family. But Maria is so much more than just her association to her celebrity cum politician husband and the branch off a tree of Presidents and Governors and what-have-yous (note: I'm NOT into politics). As a woman, she made it a point to live her life as a successful individual, to achieve her personal goals. I find inspiration from individuals like her and I thought she made an excellent statement on the show:

Mothers: Serving 24-7 on the front lines of humanity. Are you man enough to try it?

I have always believed that we are complete in our own self. We do not need someone else to complete us. Instead, it's good to find someone to complement us. There lies the distinction. We complement each other. If you go on searching for someone to complete you, I doubt you'd ever find him/ her. And what if he/ she leaves someday, separated across the miles or leaves the earth? Would you be incomplete? It isn't easy being alone. With society and our living conditions, we need support systems - peers, family, siblings, buddies, soccermates, etc. I'm not saying you should strive to be alone. I'm simply pointing out that when that particular point in the path of your life happens to be a walk through solitary, have faith and hope and above all...be strong.

Wow, all the talk on strength and I've gone on for paragraphs without even realising it! So much for worrying over what to write! By the way, in case some of you are wondering what's with The Bionic Woman, well, those close to me would know the answer. For those who don't, basically, my parents were fans of the drama. Jaime Sommers was the character's name. Do the math. It ain't rocket science. ;)