my next fic ambition: swimming with shit
Sep. 5th, 2010 02:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
catskiltThere is an article in the Straits Times today about Singapore's last surviving village, Kampung Lorong Buangkok, with pictures of the quaint green houses and pink doors. While reading it I felt like going to visit it to see what it was like since it's going to be pulled down soon to make way for ~modern developments~, but my dad said "Yah you young people can go see it, I don't really care." So I said, "Were there lots of kampungs (villages) in your childhood? Did you go to them?"
Apparently he had visited many of them, in fact, both Chinese and Malay villages, which then sparked a string of memories that I shall title: Singapore in the 1960s (or 'Swimming With Shit').
Eating on top of stilts
Dad: So I had a friend who lived in a Malay kampung, and I went there for Hari Raya (Malay festive occasion).
Me: Why did you go there for Hari Raya?
Dad: He invited us. Anyway, we went there, and we had to climb up into the house because it was on stilts. You know, so chickens could be under it.
Me: Yup.
Dad: There was so much food, we sat on the floor and ate and ate and ate. Best food in the world.
Me: LOL.
The house above the (very dirty) sea
Dad: There were houses last time that were very very near the sea. In fact, some of them were built right on the sea itself.
Me: Mmm, bayfront living.
Dad: Yeah. During low tide it wasn't nice, but during high tide the water would rise and surround the house...
Me: So it felt like you were on a boat.
Dad: Yup. Except that the water was very dirty so you couldn't see through it. Anyway, we would go there and everything we ate, we just threw into the sea.
Me: What?
Dad: Chicken wings, everything. We would throw it into the sea and then the fishes would all come and eat them up.
Me: No wonder the water was so dirty.
Dad: Everything went in there. Food, toilet things, everything.
Swimming with shit
Dad: Sometimes we'd even go swimming.
Me: Ooh.
Dad: There was a little beach by the sea. Or maybe I should say a strip of mud. There were so many dead branches and sticks in the mud, every single sharp thing you can think of, but we went through them barefoot, ow ow. We would wade through the mud until we got into the deeper sea. Then we'd dive down and then baaahhh there was the shit right in front of us, we'd quickly dive down deeper but when we surfaced the shit was right in our faces.
Me: Okay, um...
Dad: So we'll bat it away, and then we'll swim out further but we would meet with more shit! Wah!
Me: How could you swim in it?!
Dad: Just, swim lor. It was nice!
Me: What, swimming with shit?!
Dad: No, swimming in the sea was nice! But there were really lots of shit. All sizes and shapes and all sorts of colours. Green and brown and...
Me: Okay I think we can end this here.
Dad: Okay.
Me: It would make a really good book title, actually. Swimming With Shit.
At the farmhouse
Dad: I had a friend who lived on a farm, it was a very nice big farm. So when we all went there, his dad slaughtered about a hundred of those little birds...what do you call them? Um. Ah yeah. Quails.
Me: A hundred?!
Dad: There were a lot of us!
Me: Animal rights' people of today would have been so angry.
Dad: Oh well. What to do? Anyway he slaughtered a hundred of them and fried them and they came out in a heap on plates. And I tell you, those were the best quails I've ever had. What you eat now in Hong Kong is rubbish compared to those quails I had at the farm.
Me: But he killed a hundred...
Dad: Yeah, lots to eat :)
Fishing through the toilet bowl
Dad: We used to fish too. Those days when there were thunderstorms...ah, you combine that, thunderstorm and high tide. So imagine that, you have a thunderstorm and high tide, and at the end of it there is SO MUCH FISH. Because, you know, those bacteria life things? They would be on the surface of the water and all the fish would be wanting to come up and eat them, so what we did was that we dropped a line through the toilet bowl.
Me: You fished through the toilet bowl?
Dad: Yeah, it was a hole. Anyway, when we got a fish we'd pull it out and then my friend's dad would step on it with his slipper.
Me: OMG, the animal rights people are screaming.
Dad: And then that night we'd have BBQ fish!
Me: I wonder how you guys didn't die, eating stuff that used to swim in a sea full of shit.
Dad: Yeah. I dunno. We used to eat everything and we were swimming in shit and we got cuts and bruises but we never got poisoned or anything. I dunno. We were tougher back then. Now you get a little bit of oil slick in the sea and the whole coast gets closed down. Last time we were swimming in oil, we would come out with patches of oil all over our bodies...
Me: Okay, let's stop it here.
Dad: Okay.
Spearing the swordfish
Dad: I even went to a fish farm once. There were all these keylongs there and the guy brought us to one keylong where there was this long fish swimming around...what do you call them? It had this long, sword-like thing...ah swordfish! Anyway it was swimming round and round and the guy had this spear. He was leaning on it waiting, and then when the fish came up to him he threw the spear down and it pierced the fish right through the middle.
Me: Whoa!
Dad: He brought it out and showed it to us and the fish was still alive.
Me: Animal rights.
Dad: Yeah well, I mean, he killed it eventually. Anyway that was the life back then.
Me: Yeah. I'm glad I don't have to swim in...
Dad: Shit.
.........Despite everything, I love it when my dad tells me stories :)
Apparently he had visited many of them, in fact, both Chinese and Malay villages, which then sparked a string of memories that I shall title: Singapore in the 1960s (or 'Swimming With Shit').
Eating on top of stilts
Dad: So I had a friend who lived in a Malay kampung, and I went there for Hari Raya (Malay festive occasion).
Me: Why did you go there for Hari Raya?
Dad: He invited us. Anyway, we went there, and we had to climb up into the house because it was on stilts. You know, so chickens could be under it.
Me: Yup.
Dad: There was so much food, we sat on the floor and ate and ate and ate. Best food in the world.
Me: LOL.
The house above the (very dirty) sea
Dad: There were houses last time that were very very near the sea. In fact, some of them were built right on the sea itself.
Me: Mmm, bayfront living.
Dad: Yeah. During low tide it wasn't nice, but during high tide the water would rise and surround the house...
Me: So it felt like you were on a boat.
Dad: Yup. Except that the water was very dirty so you couldn't see through it. Anyway, we would go there and everything we ate, we just threw into the sea.
Me: What?
Dad: Chicken wings, everything. We would throw it into the sea and then the fishes would all come and eat them up.
Me: No wonder the water was so dirty.
Dad: Everything went in there. Food, toilet things, everything.
Swimming with shit
Dad: Sometimes we'd even go swimming.
Me: Ooh.
Dad: There was a little beach by the sea. Or maybe I should say a strip of mud. There were so many dead branches and sticks in the mud, every single sharp thing you can think of, but we went through them barefoot, ow ow. We would wade through the mud until we got into the deeper sea. Then we'd dive down and then baaahhh there was the shit right in front of us, we'd quickly dive down deeper but when we surfaced the shit was right in our faces.
Me: Okay, um...
Dad: So we'll bat it away, and then we'll swim out further but we would meet with more shit! Wah!
Me: How could you swim in it?!
Dad: Just, swim lor. It was nice!
Me: What, swimming with shit?!
Dad: No, swimming in the sea was nice! But there were really lots of shit. All sizes and shapes and all sorts of colours. Green and brown and...
Me: Okay I think we can end this here.
Dad: Okay.
Me: It would make a really good book title, actually. Swimming With Shit.
At the farmhouse
Dad: I had a friend who lived on a farm, it was a very nice big farm. So when we all went there, his dad slaughtered about a hundred of those little birds...what do you call them? Um. Ah yeah. Quails.
Me: A hundred?!
Dad: There were a lot of us!
Me: Animal rights' people of today would have been so angry.
Dad: Oh well. What to do? Anyway he slaughtered a hundred of them and fried them and they came out in a heap on plates. And I tell you, those were the best quails I've ever had. What you eat now in Hong Kong is rubbish compared to those quails I had at the farm.
Me: But he killed a hundred...
Dad: Yeah, lots to eat :)
Fishing through the toilet bowl
Dad: We used to fish too. Those days when there were thunderstorms...ah, you combine that, thunderstorm and high tide. So imagine that, you have a thunderstorm and high tide, and at the end of it there is SO MUCH FISH. Because, you know, those bacteria life things? They would be on the surface of the water and all the fish would be wanting to come up and eat them, so what we did was that we dropped a line through the toilet bowl.
Me: You fished through the toilet bowl?
Dad: Yeah, it was a hole. Anyway, when we got a fish we'd pull it out and then my friend's dad would step on it with his slipper.
Me: OMG, the animal rights people are screaming.
Dad: And then that night we'd have BBQ fish!
Me: I wonder how you guys didn't die, eating stuff that used to swim in a sea full of shit.
Dad: Yeah. I dunno. We used to eat everything and we were swimming in shit and we got cuts and bruises but we never got poisoned or anything. I dunno. We were tougher back then. Now you get a little bit of oil slick in the sea and the whole coast gets closed down. Last time we were swimming in oil, we would come out with patches of oil all over our bodies...
Me: Okay, let's stop it here.
Dad: Okay.
Spearing the swordfish
Dad: I even went to a fish farm once. There were all these keylongs there and the guy brought us to one keylong where there was this long fish swimming around...what do you call them? It had this long, sword-like thing...ah swordfish! Anyway it was swimming round and round and the guy had this spear. He was leaning on it waiting, and then when the fish came up to him he threw the spear down and it pierced the fish right through the middle.
Me: Whoa!
Dad: He brought it out and showed it to us and the fish was still alive.
Me: Animal rights.
Dad: Yeah well, I mean, he killed it eventually. Anyway that was the life back then.
Me: Yeah. I'm glad I don't have to swim in...
Dad: Shit.
.........Despite everything, I love it when my dad tells me stories :)
