Na-mi-to-fu Mo-jo-jo-jo...

Normally, i dun go for Ching Ming, but lately my dad has become quite queer. Yes, a lot of bad luck has come his way and suddenly he's free-thinker mind has gone a bit Chinese. First of all, i was in his car as he was taking me to Taekwando, and i saw a bracelet in the passenger seat's pocket, i asked him who's it was, and to my surprise he replied its mine. He continued, its prayer beads, naturally i did what any teenager in this situation would do - i stared at him thinking, right......

To make things even stranger he then took the beads out put it around the driver's stick, then he turned on his Monk Chanting CD and chanted some made up prayers: na me to fu, ba na na, mo jo jo jo. My dad could obviously see that i thought he had lost his mind, so he then reached into his pocket and pulled out a credit card of hell, just to prove that he was serious. Sheesh, y can't he just go into the church like normal people!?

So that's how it was next thing i knew it was Sunday and we were driving off to Melaka. I had tried to get out off this situation the night before but it went something like this:

Me: Dad, hmmm we're goign to Melaka, i got lots of homework to do, i'll prolly have to stay up til late in the night....
Dad: Fine then dun go!
Me: I didn't mean it like that daddy...
Dad: I understand, u got work to do. So dun go!
Me: Fine then i'll go!
Dad: *snickers*
Me: Thinking *dang! reverse-psychology again!*

So that's why i ended up going to Melaka.

The trip there wasn't really long actually, there was only one which was very jammed on the way which was around Nilai Memorial Park. The queue going into that place was horrendous, looking inside just made me my lips form an 's'. The scene at that memorial park was worse than what i see at batu caves! but who cares i din have to go there =D

It took about one and a half hours to reach Melaka. When we entered the city my dad started driving around trying to recall the bearings of his old town. Eventually, we got lost. But luckily my dad had a little bit more memory of the town than the hair on his head and managed to get us to his cousin's hawker stall.

Dad's cousin was a nice lady, she made char koah teow for all of us and refused to let us pay and didn't accept our angpao. The hawker place itself i felt was very nice. It was shaded and in the middle of the hawker centre was a GIGANTIC tree that covered the zinc roof of the shop and kept it cool. My dad said the hawker stall has been here for yongs (kiwi slang). Unfortunatey though i can't say the food was as enjoyable as the setting. My aunt had put in extra siham and prolly put in extra effort, but....it just wasn't wonderful, sorry. PS 10 years ago my aunt was in depression and attempted suicide 4 times, she's OK now tho =D

After food, my aunt came out on her motorbike and led us all the way to my uncle's house.

On first sight my uncle is...well...a...big man, oh who am i trying to kid, he's FAT! He looks like the average uneducated Chinese - naked except for a pair of pants and proudly showing off his 'beer belly'. Despite his looks though, he's a friendly man, his wife is a nice lady too and when we came she was sticking the sate meat onto the sate sticks. My uncle as i said is uneducated and works as a welder in a shipyard. My aunt on the other hand does all sorts, such small income businesses as coconut milk, putting meat onto sate sticks, getting siham out of its shell. Basically anything that robots labour will soon replace.

After a friendly chat we took my uncle along with us and drove off to the cemetry. We visited my grandmother's grave first. Oops i forgot to explain, u see, my grandma's grave and my grandad's grave isn't together. Why u ask? well to put things short, my grandad was a rich man in his time and had 4 wives SIMUTANEOUSLY! Therefore, since my grandma was the 2nd wife, she's not buried together with my grandad. PS my grandma commited suicide (2.2.1969) , my grandad died shortly after (23.4.1969), my dad was only 16 when this all happened.

Anywayz back to the main story. The graveyard was like a desert with many carved stones, red earth and specked with a tree here and there. When we went to the grave we were quite lucky that they weren't many ppl. Getting to the grave itself was somewhat complicated. Just imagine, this graveyard is the biggest in Melaka, and Melaka is the most historical city in Malaysia. What does this sum up to? - A lot of graves.

When we reached my grandma's grave we did the traditional thing, the food and cleaning had already been done by my uncle early in the morn. So what we did there was pay respect. Even i, stood in front of her grave and gave my 3 kowtows. I think to me, religion is one thing, tradition is another.

We then sent my uncle back and then headed off to Chen Hoon Teng temple to pray to my grandma and grandad's talismans. -incomplete- (i realize this blog is very long and i might never finish it, so dun count on it)