Uncle is going to come back from Penang on Friday. And of course I know I’d be skinned alive for eating out on Saturday with Kapasitor family BUT I’m willing to risk that.

However, that’s not my point.

How else can I define my celebration if it does not involve multiple cleanings in a stretch of two weeks? We will be asked (shouted at actually because all of us will be appearing at the stairs when grandma first called our names and then gone with the wind once she turned around) to gather and be assigned to our roles. Me: taking out the plates, washing them (under the hot scorching sun. This is part of the un-cool part of living in a kampung-like house. And our store is located outside the house). It will include me disappearing for a half an hour sometimes since I pretended to take out the plates while I was actually sleeping. Thi hi hi.

My brothers will be assigned to tebas rumput, wipe the fan, contribute to air pollution by performing open burning while the smaller kids are in charge of running around the house, tripping all over everything while having ice-cream and showing it to our faces all day long. And then we, the older ones, get screamed at when we ‘advised’ the kids not to bother us. Well, this scenario is mostly familiar when the uncle from Penang comes back and what I’m going to share is about that.

I’d be slaving under hot sun and proceeded to carry the plates, cups, saucers and all sorts of things ( I was conned. When grandma says plates, I naively believed what she said so and believed it will be just plates. Some people will just never learn (points to meself)) to the kitchen before having to wipe them all from dripping water. By this time, usually it has reached mid day and having a bigger family now with the addition of another two families, the cooking process starts by then and the kitchen can no longer fit us. My other cousin of the same age will be running like a mad woman around the kitchen with a knife in her hand. It’s a real miracle to find that I’m still alive provided that the knife always seems to be in close contact with my skin almost yearly. God, thank you for letting my sour breath fill the atmosphere until now and allowing me to type this blog while having to wait for someone alone in the living room because that person does not have the key. Heuhfhfoh.

Oh where was I? Right.

The kitchen will be full of people while I will also be occupying a small portion of the kitchen as I have to walk up and down up and down the stairs to arrange the plates saucers bla bla bla bla. Then grandma (by this time we will call her mandur aka supervisor behind her back) and check my work. Usually, there will be something wrong with it. Like ‘the saucers should be tilted 37.5 degrees to the west and the plates should be in coordinate 43’ 00’. And I grumble. If she says nothing, then I’ll look at her in utter disbelief as if someone has really said that ‘ Honey, the world is really flat you know. Sorry for the misunderstanding’. We are so totally used to hear her grumble that failing to hear one does seem to leave a huge gap in our lives. So it didn’t matter. We HAVE to hear her correct us.

The day will seem to crawl and the worse is yet to come if we have to masak rendang or ketupat. We still cook food outside the house especially during celebrations because we are blessed with a lawn but on a hot day during ramadhan, when you have practically chase a whole school around the yard, going near a fire does not seem as the most enchanting thing to do. But someone has to do the deed and thankfully, it’s a different person every time.

We’d be so flat out on that day that every one of us will just be crawling on the floor during iftar or being abu jidar (with our backs pressed to the wall). The kids will also be doing the same thing, not because they are tired but because they are recharging for some fireworks (legal ones) after maghrib. But we’d be smiling because in the end, we will have a huge feast with every one and all the sweat, sore throats and sore bones felt worth it.

Yes, I’m still walking down the memory lane. And the time will start tomorrow. Spring cleaning everyone!