THERE'S a bittersweet, almost ethereal-like lens that we look through when we recall our simple Asian childhood. Where innocence collides with maturity, and superstitions meld into traditions.
Recalling the simple games and the stories mum told us to keep us in check: of beings that lurked above us who'd catch us if we were naughty, or the poochandi man — a scary-faced entity who'd catch unruly children — that magically turned deviant little children into models of propriety.
The stories we hear and the narratives we form from our early years leave a lasting impact on our lives. I still live in my childhood home in Klang, and my house still has that familiarly unfamiliar feeling of time passed and preserved.
A lot has changed in this place I've lived for most of life. In fact, very little material evidence of my actual childhood remains. But the memories? They remain very much vivid.
The history, folklore and family dynamics (and dare I say, politics) remain entrenched in my mind, and like a sleeping giant, all it needs is a little prod to unleash those dormant memories again.
I strongly suspect that author Kopi Soh feels the same way. Looking after the Ashes throws open the window where we peer into the lives of a large extended Taoist-influenced Peranakan family that Soh recalls being a part of.
The semi-autobiographical tale of love, family, tradition and superstition forms the backbone of Soh's memories and influences that she still admits to following to this day.
So welcome to the Cheah family, whose foibles, antics and lives are witnessed through the eyes of Swee Lian, daughter of Jimmy Cheah Chye Huat and Ong Gim Suan, and granddaughter to Rose Khoo Bee Choo (Ah Ma) and Johnny Cheah Huck Boon (Ah Kong).
"The Cheah family's story isn't your typical 'Chinese from China' story; although our unique subgroup is considered 'Chinese', we don't speak the language," writes Soh in her foreword, continuing: "For me, Swee Lian's tale is an important one to tell because my people, the Baba-Nyonyas (Peranakans) are slowly fading."
The future of the Peranakan language and culture hangs in the balance today, points out Soh. To ensure the continued existence of these people, she decided to share their stories through this book. Drawing from her own memories, these stories are very much her stories to tell.
CHILDHOOD NIGHTMARES
One of the most vivid memories I remember from my growing up years are the horror stories and childhood scares I experienced. It isn't any different for Soh as well as the protagonist, Swee Lian.
Both Soh and Swee Lian lived in a world where clipping finger nails at night was strictly forbidden; where pointing at the moon would result in one's ears getting chopped off, and children were forced to stay indoors during sundown for fear of encountering evil forces.
Mothers with newborns had to take special care for fear of meeting the Chinese ghost See Loh Bun, who takes the form of the head of a woman with intestines that trail behind it (not unlike the penanggal), whose favourite victims include pregnant women, women who have just given birth and young children. Of course, Malaysia being a multiracial country, the superstitious Cheahs also had to take into account the ghosts of other races!
There are tales of Swee Lian playing with the Spirit of the Coin (the Asian version of the Ouija Board) in a bid to learn a little more about her future, encountering mass hysteria at her school, and witnessing a frightening case of exorcism at a Taoist temple. But her story takes an even more frightening turn when her parents travel to Thailand in search of a supernatural solution to their financial woes.
Swee Lian's father brings back a Luk Thep, which literally translates as "child angels", with the belief that it'll bring good fortune if they're pampered by their owners as if they were children. Swee Lian and her family adopt Didi and treat the doll like a new addition to the family.
The "ghost child" Didi somehow connects supernaturally with the young impressionable Swee Lian, and the latter would have clandestine conversations with the doll in the dead of the night. Thankfully, the connection is cut off when Swee Lian's grandmother insists on the doll being given away to the nearest Thai temple.
FAMILY SECRETS
Make no mistake, Looking after the Ashes isn't by any means a horror story. Local lore, superstition and ghostly encounters aren't the only stories that Swee Lian recounts. Far and above recollections of Hantu Kum Kum, Pontianak, yellow spirits and the Luk Thep, tales of family secrets, loyalty and love form the backbone of Swee Lian's story.
Swee Lian grew up with the same bias practiced by her wealthy family and the oft-bigoted lens they used to view servants and those who were not of their status. Her mother faced that biasness when she first married into the family.
"Perhaps she put a love charm on him," pondered Tua Kor, her father's eldest sister. "According to my Ma, she knew what my Da's family thought about her," recalls Swee Lian. "She resolved to work hard and be the most filial daughter-in-law to my grandmother, the matriarch of the family."
Then there's the touching story of a servant's loyal friendship towards Swee Lian. In order to bribe the servant Ah Hoon Cheh to give her an extra batch of red bean cookies, Swee Lian strikes up a friendship with the old lady.
When Ah Hoon Cheh finally discovers the extent of Swee Lian's treachery, she remains steadfast and risks her safety to get medicine in the middle of the night for the young girl.
Another story that brings tears is about another member of the household, the Chinese spinster Choo Choo Khor, who was sold to Swee Lian's uncle's family at the young age of 13.
Choo Choo Khor is often looked down upon and treated like a second-class citizen compared with her married peers. One night, Swee Lian finally discovers the depths of Choo Choo Khor's pain and despair, and the horrifying secret she'd carried since she was a teenager.
Many stories, many secrets with a lot of mythology, old-school wisdom and fierce love — these are the things our childhoods are made up of. Soh's tales of living in a world where talismans, mediums and fortune tellers were part of every life, where matriarchs ruled with an iron fist, where food was the ultimate love language shown by angry mothers, and where ancestors were revered and worshipped — these are stories we recognise from our own childhoods.
I remember the stories I grew up with and the family skeletons ensconced within the four walls of my house. It's been a while since the walls of this house contained the riot of noise that my entire, 6-person family generated. From the 90s, the steady outflow of my siblings to jobs, marriages and lives elsewhere began.
But, whenever we return like homing pigeons, we're pleased to discover just how easily we fall into our raucous conversations, while the laughter of my nephew and three nieces feels the same to me as ever before. It's a good thing these walls can't speak, because they'd never get a word in.
Read this book and celebrate your untold family stories.
LOOKING AFTER THE ASHES
Publisher: Penguin Random House SEA Pte Ltd
Author: Kopi Soh
Pages: 194