The Harmony Silk Factory Read Free Page A

houses burning down.
     
    · Children therefore did not “play.”
     
    · They were expected to help in the manual labour in which their parents were engaged. As rural Malaya was an exclusively agricultural society, this nearly always meant working in one of the following: rice paddies, rubber-tapping, palm-oil estates. The latter two were better, as they meant employment by British or French plantation owners. Also, on a smaller scale, fruit orchards and other sundry activities—such as casting rubber sheets for export to Europe, making gunnysacks from jute, and brewing illegal toddy. All relating to agriculture in some form or another. Not like nowadays, when there are semiconductor and air-conditioner plants all over the countryside, in Batu Gajah even.
     
    · In the cool wet hills that run along the spine of the country there are tea plantations. Sometimes I wonder if Johnny ever worked picking tea in the Cameron Highlands. Johnny loved tea. He used to brew weak orange pekoe, so delicate and pale that you could see through it to the tiny crackles at the bottom of the small green-glazed porcelain teapot he used. He took time making tea, and even longer drinking it, an eternity between sips. He would always do this when he thought I was not around, as though he wanted to be alone with his tea. Afterwards, when he was done, I would examine the cups, the pot, the leaves, hoping to find some clue (to what I don’t know). I never did.
     
    · So rural children became hardened early on. They had no proper toilets, indoor or outdoor.
     
    · A toilet for them was a wooden platform under which there was a large chamber pot. Animals got under the platform, especially rats, but also monitor lizards, which ate the rats, and the faeces too. A favourite pastime among these simple rural children involved trapping monitor lizards. This was done by hanging a noose above the pot, so that when the lizard put its head into the steaming bowl of excrement, it would become ensnared. Then either it was tethered to a post as a pet, or (more commonly) taken to the market to be sold for its meat and skin. This practice was still quite common when I was a young boy. As we drove through villages in our car, I would see these lizards, four feet long, scratching pathetically in the dirt as they pulled at the string around their necks. Mostly they were rock-grey in colour, but some of the smaller ones had skins of tiny diamonds, thousands and thousands of pearl-and-black jewels covering every inch of their bodies. Often the rope would have cut into their necks, and they would wear necklaces of blood.
     
    · Poor villagers would eat any kind of meat. Protein was scarce.
     
    · Most children were malnourished. That is why my father had skinny legs and arms all his life, even though his belly was heavy from later-life overindulgence. Malnutrition is also the reason so many people of my father’s generation are dwarves. Especially compared with me—I am nearly a whole foot taller than my father.
    · Scurvy, rickets, polio—all very common in children. Of course typhoid, malaria, dengue fever, and cholera too.
     
    · Schools do not exist in these rural areas.
     
    · I tell a lie. There are a few schools, but they are reserved for the children of royalty and rich people like civil servants. These were founded by the British. “Commanding the best views of the countryside, these schools are handsome examples of the colonial experiment with architecture, marrying Edwardian and Malay architectural styles” (I quote directly from Mr. Unwin in this instance). When you come across one of these schools, you will see that they dominate the surrounding landscape. Their flat lawns and playing fields stretch before the white colonnaded verandahs like bright green oceans in the middle of the grey olive of the jungle around them. These bastions of education were built especially for ruling-class Malays. Only the sons of very rich Chinese can go there. Like