9) My Grandpa I Never Knew: Victory and Goodbyes

Planters, European planters, predominantly British, returned eagerly to reclaim their rubber plantations around Sungai Petani or SP as she has been fondly known since her founding days in 1912. The mere mention of names like Harvard Estate, Scarborough Estate and UP Estate would always stir up endearing childhood memories amongst Sungai Petani’s older generation.

Undeniably, SP is a relatively young township, its location was specifically chosen by W.G. Maxwell, Kedah’s 1^st British Adviser, to replace the old coastal town of Kota Kuala Muda as the center of administration for Central Kedah. SP is strategically located between Kulim & Butterworth in the south and Alor Star in the north, right smack in the middle of the State of Kedah.

Kedah or Kodaram is the oldest state in Malaya/Malaysia boasting of the thriving Indo-Buddhist civilization in the surrounds of Bujang Valley dating back to 100AD, while the ancient Kedah Sultanate could trace her beginning to the 9 Indian Princes that ruled the region. The Sultanate was actually founded from 1136AD when the last of the Indian Princes, the 9^th Prince embraced Islam and took the name of Sultan Mudzafar Shah I. The legendary cruel fanged Raja Bersiong, Kedah’s very own “Dracula” was the 5^th Prince to rule the region.

Prior to 1912, SP was just a small riverside Malay village, Penghulu Him, along the Sungai Petani river with another a small collection of huts upstream inhabited by some early Chinese migrants around Pekan Lama today. Apart from being the administrative center, SP was also chosen to be a new market township to support the burgeoning rubber industry. Metaphorically, SP was built on rubber which explained the strong Indian community presence in the town till today.

The advent of railway and the strategic stopover at SP the same year entrenched SP as the key commercial and administrative/military town in Kedah. The structure of the original 1912 train station has been transplanted to the Jubilee Park since 2013. The town’s police station along the Jalan Ibrahim at the junction to Pekan Lama was built on 1916, and she still stands guard today. As a testament of SP’s prosperity, HSBC Bank built an impressive Moorish-design building in 1921 and has been open for business since 1923.

SP also boasts of her iconic clock tower which was built in 1936 by a local philanthropist, Mr Lim Lean Teng to commemorate the Silver Jubilee (25th anniversary) of the marriage, in 1893, of King George V, then Prince George Frederick Ernest Albert the Duke of York, to Princess Victoria Mary of Teck, who became his consort with the title Queen Mary.

It has been oft said whenever three or four Englishmen get together they form a club and make a race track and, of course, a golf course. Hence, it was not surprising when the British officers and planters did just that within the year of the founding of SP in a bungalow opposite the old general hospital. They went on to formally set up the SP Club and moved to her present location in 1922, a decade later. That is how SP Club was founded, and her club house still stands proud today.

It was the tales and buzz of a new nearby town being established on the Malayan Peninsula that attracted and fascinated Kai Chang since the first day he set foot on Penang Island until the day he finally ventured to Sungai Petani in 1925. Now that War was over, and the European planters were back in droves, it was back to business as usual, to build a future for his children.

Kai Chang woke up unworried for the first time in a long while before dawn. It was chilly, misty and still dark with gentle wind whispering through the trees. He reverently lit some joss sticks and knelt down before his ancestral altar and offered prayers and thanksgiving to his ancestors and the Heaven. Then he dragged out the sacks of Banana money onto the backyard and set them alight. They burst into a ferocious bonfire flame clawing angrily at the darkness and searing away the blanketing mist.

He stood and watched the bonfire silently, absorbed in deep contemplative thoughts, trancelike until they were all but burnt ashes. Good riddance. A gush of cool wind sent shivers down his spine and shook him from his trance. He grimaced, turned and walked back into his shop to wash up. And the sun had begun to peek over the horizon burning away the mist and chasing away the darkness of the night to signal the dawning of a bright new day.

Kai Chang made his way to the RAF Aerodrome at today’s Ibrahim Secondary School. He joined the throngs of mostly men folk making their way to the Aerodrome eager to witness the formal surrender by the Japanese Imperial Army to the British Army and the handover of their katana and arms. The procession was cheery, high-spirited and animated, and boisterously cacophonic.

Kai Chang crossed the street to HSBC Bank building which was used as the HQ by the Imperial Army and beside it, the wretched bungalow where the dreaded Kempeitai interrogated and tortured many victims. The town’s clock tower stood witness to the many going in and a few coming out. Those who never came out were just herded across the field at the back towards the lime kilns along the river and executed. Some 130 met their fate there. Kai Chang was grateful to be alive despite living across the very corridors and jaws of death.

They passed through the town’s administrative center, Union Jack aloft, then the garden where some horses left by the Japanese officers were nonchalantly grazing, thereafter up a slope. They passed by St. Theresa School, Christ the King Church and Father Barre’s Convent to join those who had arrived earlier at the Aerodrome. They waited expectantly in high spirits. Some kids were play acting in the Zero planes left in disrepair.

A bugle called to attention. Ranks of Japanese soldiers paraded onto the field and stood to attention before the British ranks. God saves the King was sung as the Union Jack was raised. Formal surrender documents were signed by both commanding officers followed by the ceremonious handover of his official katana. Arms, mainly Arisaka rifles and bayonets sheathed in scabbards were neatly laid down by NCOs and common soldiers, followed by the Katana swords by officers. The ceremony was militarily formal and somber.

The Japanese prisoners of war, officers, NCOs, rank and file common soldiers, were then marched off to be imprisoned in guarded barracks behind barbed wires. Their shoulders slumped and heads hung low in defeat, their eyes avoiding the stares of the gathered townsfolk in shame, led by their commanding officer, they marched listlessly towards their imprisonment. Gone were their fiery tempers and condescending arrogance. The gate as if the very gate of Hell clanked shut.

A hushed silence descent upon all present, both in relief and unbelief momentarily, and then suddenly a deafening roar of exuberance erupted as it dawned on everyone that the dreaded days were finally over! The damned war was over! The atmosphere was electrifying, celebratory. Men cried unabashedly not from grief but relief and joy.

Later that afternoon, a work detail of some 50 Japanese prisoners of war were marched with shovels towards Bakar Kapor where limestone was burnt in those days to produce cementing mortar. The kilns had been long abandoned, the place shunned. A dirty, dark and gloomy place strewn with weather bleached skulls and bones. Some claimed insatiable malevolent spirits still roamed menacingly there angry and bitter from the injustice suffered. The place reeked of putrefaction and death. The place was haunted.

The work detail was charged with the gruesome task of searching for the bodies or skeletons of those summarily executed by the Kempetai for a proper burial. They scoured the mud bank and searched along the abandoned riverbank where the sweet stench of death still pervaded. They found many bones and skulls but no skeletons wholly intact. Many had been washed away by tidal waters and some eaten by voracious crocodiles and even carnivorous monitor lizards. Whatever bones or skulls they found were respectfully washed in the river scouring away the mud and dirt before reverently laid down on a piece of white cloth.

Those who lost family members and friends stood appalled and aghast by the horror. A few frantically tried to identify their lost loved ones but to no success. There would be no closures as none of the victims were identifiable, only stubborn bitter memory. Not too few fainted in shock. Some wailed hysterically. Others wept silently and the rest if not all present were in tears. It had finally dawned upon the local populace the atrocities perpetrated were committed right under their noses, and the victims were family and friends not some unknown dead Commonwealth soldiers.

Not too few vented their anger on the Japanese prisoners of war. They broke through the thin guard barricade and set upon those at the periphery. Shrieks of pain and fear pierced the grieving riverbank. Guards quickly intervened and dispersed the mob. The Captain had to fire a shot from his pistol to stop the frenzy and restore order. The angry mob reluctantly gave up their quarry and retreated away leaving not too few injured bloodied Japanese prisoners of war sprawled on the ground, groaning and bleeding, none fatal though.

Kai Chang ignored the commotions. He was just too absorbed with the grim task on hand. He continued to respectfully clean and wrap the bones in white linen. Tears welled up his eyes each time he picked up a bone. His hands shivered uncontrollably in grief. It could have been one of his friends. He then followed them in a solemn mourning procession all the way to their proper interment and final resting place at Sungai Pasir Chinese Cemetery. They were also migrants like him and many were his friends. He said his final goodbye.

Streaks of lightning clawed angrily across the already darkened sky followed by ponderous cracks of thunder. Suddenly, the turbulent heaven went eerily still holding back her angry torrents. A windless lull descended upon all who gathered for the final send-off. Then it started to pour in the earnest like never before that evening as if Heaven too was weeping inconsolably to mourn the dead and distraughtly to cleanse the town from the stench of death.

 

8) My Grandpa I never knew: Surreal Occupation

Night fall the night the bicycle infantry left town to give chase after the retreating British Army was the quietest and darkest as townsfolk cowered behind closed doors still in shock and wreaked in fear. The lives they had known were shattered and the future they had toiled to build turned uncertain. Everything was dark, the street was ink-black and even the nocturnal orchestra was silent. Kai Chang was no different. He could only stare ponderously at the ceiling wondering whatever future beheld. The atmosphere inside Lam Seng was hushed and depressed.

He heard soldierly footfalls on the corridor of shop houses. They stopped. They were staring at Lam Seng’s signboard in front of his shop. He heard muted mutterings. Raw cigarette smoke twirled and wafted into Lam Seng. His heart was throbbing into his throat. His anxious mind was conjuring fear. The wooden door panels which separated them suddenly felt unconvincingly thin and flimsy. He needed to know why they had stopped in front of Lam Seng and what were they up to. He treaded silently towards the door so as not to attract any attention and placed his ear against it. He could not make out their muted conversation outside. He needed to know. He took a cautious peek through the crack between the panels. He held his breath to calm his nerves. He could only hear his own galloping heartbeats.

Two stern faces in the shadow occasionally lit up from cigarette glows. On their shoulders silhouetted against the starlit night were Arisaka rifles fixed with the fearsome 15-inch steel type 30 bayonets. After what seemed to Kai Chang an eternity, one took a long pull of his cigarette, exhaled unhurriedly then carelessly flicking the butt away. The tip glowed when the butt somersaulted in the air before hitting the pavement. He cleared his throat and spat. He smacked his companion’s back, and they resumed their patrol and walked off nonchalantly toward the Police Station further down the road. Kai Chang finally exhaled in relief. Despite the anti climax, everyone slept fitfully that night.

One fateful morning after the fall of Singapore, early March 1942, townsfolk were awakened by violent banging on doors. Armed soldiers were summoning everyone to gather immediately in the town square beside the Clock Tower, everyone, men, women, adults, children and even infants. No one was exempted. There were soldiers stationed at the back lane in case anyone tried to escape, bayonets ready to direct them in the right direction.

They congregated at the town square surrounded by armed soldiers. Townsfolk stood in fearful silence. The soldiers stood in proud attention. Kimigayo crescendo-ed that morn instead of God saves the Queen as the Rising Sun flag (Kyokujitsu-ki) instead of the Union Jack was being raised in tandem, followed by three arrogant shouts of Banzai by the Japanese present.

Then the men were separated from the women and children. One by one, they were checked against a list of names and interrogated in what the Japanese called Daikensho or the Great Inspection but better known after the War as Sook Ching or the Purge. There were two hooded quislings beside the interrogators. A nod from either one, or if the victim’s name was listed on the list, they would be dragged away into a temporary holding barb-wired pen for further interrogation by the dreaded Kempetai, and most were not seen alive after that, only eye-less maggots infested heads did appear mysteriously impaled on the riverbank at Bakar Kapor, unrecognizable unless one was familiar with forensic facial reconstruction. Fortunate few survived the terror. Defiant ones recounted ruthless interrogations, inhuman degradation and bestial humiliations while most were just utterly broken, living dead. Their eyes opened unseeing, to look into them was to see darkness, hollowness and abysmal hopelessness.

For the rest who were not singled out had their names and some personal particulars recorded. They were then instructed to bow respectfully whenever they meet any Japanese soldiers. A few flippant youngsters were slapped for failing to bow properly. After which they were given a stamp of approval on their garments and issued ration cards. Many kept their garments unwashed to preserve the stamp for their lives depended on it. Quite a number regretted for being stamped on the dorsum of their hand as the stamps faded almost immediately from sweats.

Everyone acquiesced or attempted to do so, with the new situation, masters, anthem, flag, language and even new Banana money. Life was bearable with some semblance of normality of pre-invasion days. Food, at least staples, was still available though not abundant and the atmosphere or the temperament of the Japanese soldiers, administrators and even the Kempetai was not too fiendish neither were they very friendly, just barely tolerable.

The situation soon deteriorated rapidly with news of setbacks and losses on the various Pacific fronts. The sleeping giant had finally stirred from his slumber after the unprovoked bruising at Pearl Harbour to fight back. Fighting back hard the US did. Tokyo was fire-bombed with incendiaries in the Doolittle Raid in Apr 1942. The retaliatory Raid prompted Japanese planners to expand the sphere of control outward away from Japan to the Midway Atoll in hope to preventing future raids. The invasion of the Midway Atoll two months later ended in a disastrous crippling of the Imperial Japanese Navy, losing four of her main aircraft carriers, Akagi, Kaga, Soryu and Hiryu. The Japanese began to turn more temperamental and short fused.

Basic essentials soon became scarce. Even rice, the staple, was not spared in the rice bowl state of Kedah either. Many went hungry as had to resort to the less nourishing more abundant wild tapioca. Prices of essentials skyrocketed, if available, and the value of Japanese Banana money plummeted. A sackful could only buy a “cupak” of rice. People resorted to barter trade. The Banana money was good only as fire starter, and may be toilet paper. Life was no longer just tolerable but fast becoming difficult even to survive, and many did die from starvation and disease.

To Kai Chang, the welfare and wellbeing of his family took priority over all else. No doubt, he hated the Japanese for causing the death of his parents. However, he knew he had to suppress his hatred for his family’s sake. Somehow, he managed to keep his peace and allow his love for his family to prevail over his hatred of the Japanese, and kept his family safe throughout the 3 years and 8 months of Occupation. If he had the choice, he would have preferred to join up with Spencer Chapman.

Fortunately, he did not have to go into constant hiding like one of his fellow Foochow, Ooi Kim Chin, in the neighbouring town, Guar Chempedak. Kim Chin had to constantly hide amongst the locals in the surrounding kampongs each time the Kempetai went out rounding up suspects. Clothed in sarong and songkok, tanned Kim Chin blended easily with the local Malay community. He was even nicknamed “Awang” to avoid suspicion and arrest. Unbeknownst then, Awang’s eldest son would be take the hands of Kai Chang’s adopted daughter in marriage after the Occupation. By another twist of fate, divine appointment no less, the familial tie was further strengthened when his eldest son married Awang’s youngest daughter, the author’s parents.

Kai Chang did however do what he could in passive resistance. He heard of hardships on certain trains bound for Thailand. He was told that they were Commonwealth prisoners of war and deceived volunteers destined for a railway construction from Thailand into Burma. He and a few of his close friends wanted to help. They would put aside and gather whatever ration they could afford, hide them in the store at the back of Lam Seng and wait patiently for the distance train whistle.

They would collect the ration and sneak into the bushes beside the railway tracks, always in darkness, till the train come to a total halt. The train’s steam engine needed to be replenished with water. They would quickly shove the ration through whatever openings on the freight wagons, ignoring the human stench and stealthily disappear into the night. And yes, the prisoners and volunteers were being transported in bare rudimentary freight wagons. Only after the War did they learn that thousands perished in the construction of the infamous Death Railway.

Spencer Chapman formed and spearheaded the Anti-Japanese resistance Force 136. Force 136 was mainly active in the vicinity of Ipoh. It collaborated with the left leaning Malayan Peoples’ Anti-Japanese Army (MPAJA). A key figure in the MPAJA was Ong Boon Hua, a fellow Foochow and most probably a distant relative who later gained notoriety as Chin Peng post-Occupation as the leader of the Communist Party of Malaya (CPM). Instead of being disbanded when the Japanese surrendered unconditionally after the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki on 16 Aug 1945, the MPAJA continued their arms struggle under CPM right through Malayan Independence in 1957 and Formation of Malaysia in 1963. CPM finally gave up their struggle, laid down arms and disbanded in 1989, and was filed away in the footnote of history when Chin Peng passed away in 2013.

Prior to the return of the British forces in Sep 1945 after the Japanese sudden capitulation in Aug 1945, MPAJA did attempt to stamp their presence throughout Malaya. During those uncertain days, Kai Chang once again feared for his life and the lives of his family. He was a card carrying member of the Kuomintang, a Nationalist, arch nemesis of the Communists. In China, but for a short cooperative lull to resist the Japanese, their common enemy, both had been each other’s throats for supremacy since the fall the Qing Dynasty in 1911. The Communists prevailed and was victorious, and by 1949 gained full control over Mainland China. The defeated Nationalists was pushed onto an island stronghold of Formosa, renamed Taiwan.

Kai Chang’s fear of reprisal was short-lived for the MPAJA did not attempt to establish their presence in Sungai Petani as the Japanese garrison continued to guard the town till the British returned. Probably, they could not muster a force large enough to take over and garrison the town, and probably, most of the local Chinese populace was Nationalists.

Life quickly went back to pre-War normalcy. When the British soldiers marched through Jalan Ibrahim back to their barracks and Aerodrome at Jalan Pegawai, Kai Chang was amongst the exuberant townsfolk enthusiastically welcoming their return, cheering vociferously. He was so elated and grateful, and most importantly so relieved. He smiled for tomorrow he would have the pleasure of burning the sacks of Banana money to cleanse his soul and rid his memory of the wretched days of Occupation, so surreal.

 

Ah How’s Bak Kua

Ah How’s bak kua is made from fresh and prime pork marinated with traditional secret ingredients infused with the finest whisky, pre-dried naturally to soak in the goodness of the Sun & Wind, before being grilled over medium charcoal ember by Master Chef himself. It’s simply heavenly yummilicious.

 

7) My Grandpa I never knew: Wretched Invasion

In their desperate last ditch attempt to slowdown the Imperial Japanese Army onslaught, the British Army detonated a few well placed explosives to destroy both the train and road bridges as soon as the last train chugged across the Petani River. Dull thuds of explosions shattered the silent night followed by the loud crashing of both bridges which reverberated ominously throughout the already frightened and bewildered town. The rear guard sappers hastily boarded the last truck avoiding eye contacts with the few local onlookers to hide their shame and fear.

They had their orders; blow up and speed south. The British Army was withdrawing to the next defensive position of Kampar bypassing Penang which had been deemed indefensible without air cover and to be abandoned. Daily aerial bombing by squadrons of Japanese Ki-48 Kawasaki light bombers (codename “Lily”) based out of Saigon with reckless impunity broke the British High Command’s resolve to defend Penang, the Pearl of the Orient.

No sooner had the sappers retreated, Kai Chang was awakened from his restless sleep by the rumble of light tanks, trucks and bicycle infantry, the vanguard of the Imperial Japanese Army had arrived. Their bicycles, confiscated from local populace, had yet to turn rickety as the war was still in its early days. Oddly, they were not smartly uniformed or marching in any disciplined battle formations very unlike the retreating British Army before them. However, their appearance may be deceiving for they were not parade ground soldiers but already veterans of numerous battles in China on a warpath. Odder still, the Imperial Japanese Army was as if in a hurry, eagerly rushing after a funfair, rather than warfare, that had left town without them.

Japanese engineers immediately set to work constructing a makeshift bridge over the river. The British attempt to slowdown the Japanese advance was proven futile for the river neither deep nor wide and could be easily forded. Even the much feared guardian crocodiles had swam away downstream. By mid afternoon, the first bicycle infantry had already crossed the river and forming up on the opposite bank in small mobile units ready to give chase. By the next day, most of the Imperial Army was already charging or cycling south towards Penang. They left behind a few grumbling soldiers, quite reluctant to be left behind, at the Police Station to guard the town until relieved by the military administrators and police.

Hot on the heels of the bicycle infantry, the administrative section and Military Police or dreaded Kempetai moved into Sungai Petani and quickly established themselves at the HSBC Building and the adjacent town’s Administrative centre. The abandoned RAF aerodrome became the base for a squadron of Zero fighters which provided air cover and strafing support for ground actions from Kampar till the capitulation of Singapore.

Many of the non-combatant administrators were rather friendly and spoke mandarin to the local Chinese populace. They would however pretend to turn serious and nasty whenever any Japanese officers were in the vicinity. Kai Chang discovered that they were conscripts from the Island of Formosa or Taiwan, of Chinese descent like himself. They set about registering the local populace and separating suspected sympathisers and anti Japanese elements from the rest for further interrogation by the Kempetai.

The Kempetai on the other hand were violent and ruthless, sadistic maniacs. They were to be dreaded at all time and avoided at all cost. They immediately set out to round up hundreds of Chinese educationists and Kuomintang sympathisers who were then subjected to brutal interrogations and bestial tortures. For the unfortunate ones, some 130 of them were quickly whisked away and summarily executed on the riverbank at Bakar Kapor. Their decapitated bodies were unceremoniously dumped into the river and severed heads impaled on stakes along the riverbank to serve as a harsh reminder of the fate awaiting those who dare to oppose or even suspected of opposing the Imperial Japanese Army. Kai Chang too lost one too many friends to the katana of the damned Kempetai.

The Japanese bicycle infantry proved to be extremely mobile and versatile in deployment. They advanced rapidly down the Peninsula, even after wearing out the rubber tyres they continued relentlessly south on rickety metal rims to link up with the Imperial Army’s left flank by January 1942 for the final push for Singapore. They were not slowed down or plagued by the stretched and limited fuel supply faced by their mechanized counterpart, or needed to traverse over proper roads or bridges. They relentlessly pursued the hastily retreating British cycling over and around strong defensive positions along the Malayan Peninsula all the way to the fortress of Singapore. British positions at Kampar, Slim River, Muar and Gemas fell in quick domino succession.

The Causeway linking Johor and Singapore was blown up on 31 January 1942 in the final ditch attempt to delay and thwart if possible the Japanese conquest. The Imperial Japanese Army set up artillery positions on high grounds along two coastal fronts of Johor facing Singapore and started bombardment of the Island. Two beachheads on the North East & North West coast of Singapore were amphibiously attacked and secured despite heavy losses. Sheer tenacity and ferocity of the defenders was no match for the firepower brought to bear, and they were soon overwhelmed.

A sense of doom and apathy pervaded and descended upon the British High Command when both beachhead defences were overrun. Apart from sporadic pockets of minor engagements or individual heroic, all hope and organized defence just petered out. The guns finally went silent when General Percival surrendered unconditionally to General Yamashita at the Ford factory at Bukit Timah. The conquest of the Island Fortress of Singapore was over in 2 weeks. The Malayan campaign was over in 2 months.

The rapid capitulation of the once mighty and invincible British Army against a rag tag army of bicycle soldiers shorter than their ubiquitous “Arisaka” rifles would continue to be debated by military historians till today. Against Yamashita’s 30,000 Japanese soldiers, Percival had 130,000. Yamashita’s forces were over stretched throughout the Malayan Peninsula while Percival’s were concentrated on the island fortress of Singapore. Whilst it was true that Percival had no aerial support, but the odds were stacked in his favour. Sadly, instead of holding out, stalling and bleeding Yamashita’s attack through battles of attrition, Percival lost his nerve and capitulated. Had he steeled his nerve, Yamashita’s attack into Singapore would go into the annals of history as Yamashita’s Charge of the Light Brigade of the Malayan Campaign. Plainly, Percival just failed to call Yamashita’s bluff.

Overall, occupation by the Imperial Army was rather uneventful. Kai Chang, like the rest of the compliant and frightened civilian population in Sungai Petani, was spared from the atrocities meted out by the dreaded Kempetai. The Kempetai were relatively more subdued in the State of Kedah, along with Perlis, Kelantan and Terengganu, which were nominally placed under direct Siam Administration as a reward for their cooperation and non-intervention. Reversing the 1909 Treaty of Bangkok, the four states were returned and amalgamated into the Province of Syburi of the Kingdom of Siam.

In Kai Chang’s case, it was also probably due to his aromatic coffee which proved more popular over “ocha” tea amongst Japanese soldiers. Kai Chang would have preferred to brew poison instead, had it not been for the welfare and safety of his family. They took precedence above and over all else regardless. He could only but seethed in silence.

 

Simpliciously Foochow

Foochow or Fuzhou could trace their ancestral roots back to the fertile Henan province during the Three Kingdoms (Wei, Shu and Wu) era. Henan literally means south of the river or the mighty Yellow River or Hwang Ho. The province was a fertile plain and its fertility was both a blessing and curse. Crops were lush and abundant, attracting the envy of its neighbours and constant ravages of war.

Foochow are of ancient Han Chinese stock, industriously hard working, tenaciously loyal and stubbornly proud, just hardened in the forges of their tumultuous history. They migrated south to present day Fuzhou city, Fukien province to escape famine and death, and from constant warfare and threats of war seeking peaceful utopia.

Their mass migration occurred during the reign of Emperor Yong Jia (Jing Dynasty-308 AD) and Emperor Guang Qi (Tang Dynasty-887 AD). They settled peacefully in the 10 districts around Fuzhou City, namely Min Hou, Lian Jiang. Yang Tai, Zhang Le, Fu Ching, Min Qing, Pin Nan, Gu Tian, Ping Tan and Luo Yuan amongst existing local Min populace.

They considered each other familial as members of one family. They spoke in similar yet subtly distinctive intonated dialects, e.g. Hock Chew, Hock Chia, Hock Chiang, Heng Hua etc. The dialects were all parochially improvised from the core Foochow dialect, which in turn, was an assimilation of ancient Wu and ancient Chu, probably as spoken by Lui Bei, Guan Yu and Zhang Fei of the Romance of the Three Kingdoms, with the local Min language.

Foochow are considered clannish, often to the extreme. In the olden days, marriages outside the clan were frowned upon, even ostracised. Trades and businesses were always kept intra-clan. In disputes, Foochow always stand together with the clan, always, regardless of the rightness or wrongness of the issue on hand. Sigh.

Both my paternal and maternal grandparents were truly and purely Hockchew. They heralded from Min Hou district. They migrated to Malaya during the early 20^th century, however neither came through Sibu nor Setiawan, the two main destinations for early Foochow migrants back then. My paternal grandparents came through Ayer Itam, Penang to settle in Sungai Petani, Kedah whilst my maternal grandparents through Bangkok and Haadyai, Thailand and finally Guar Chempedak, Kedah.

Another area kept distinctively clannish is food. Foochow culinary fares are very different, a unique sort of North-South Chinese fusion. Their ancestral Northern wheat-based cuisine was over time intricately fused with those of the Southern rice-based ones. Generally, Foochow cuisine taste rather light, never overpowering, as compared to that of some other Chinese cooking styles, and often have a mixed and balanced sweet and sour taste, never spicy though.

Hong Chow Chew soup is an indispensable dish in most Foochow celebrations, e.g. birthdays and New Year, and most essential post-natal diet. It can be cooked in various ways together with poultry or pork or seafood and Mee Sua (air-dried and salted hair thin vermicelli). Hong Chow Chew is basically the red rice wine of the Foochow, the elixir of life for all true blue blooded Foochow, a must have for all Foochow. Sweet, full bodied, fragrant and pack with a mild punch. Its residual is never wasted but used to flavor meat dishes or soup. Many would initially find its color unpleasant but are usually and easily converted by its heavenly taste.

Hong Chow Chew is fermented using red yeast rice or red rice koji. The rice acquires its bright reddish purple colour from being cultivated or overgrown with the “Monascus purpureus” mold culture, and “Monascus” in turn is used to produce Monacolin, a statin drug which inhibits cholesterol synthesis. It is now no wonder, Hong Chow Chew is reputed to be a healthy hearty nutritious rice wine, good for hearts, potent cholesterol buster.

Snack foods such as dumplings, Hua Pa, Mo-Mo and in particularly Kong Piang, are also an important part of and uniquely Foochow food culture. Kong Piang are hard wheat tacks once trooper’s staple, charcoal oven baked to perfection over 400 years of history. Being dry, Kong Piang last without preservative. When threaded together through a hole in the middle, Kong Piang could be transported with great ease. Today’s Kong Piang are enjoyed as snack rather than staple, and are filled with fragrant fried shallots or spiced minced pork. Their taste alone is heavenly and definitely worth dying for. Kong Piang to Foochow is like “Lembas” bread to the High Elves in the LOTR.

Other typical Chinese fare like mooncakes, fish balls, wantan wrappings and nian gao to mention a few are prepared and cooked very differently by Foochow, and are distinctively and uniquely Foochow. Interestingly, Foochow mooncakes are thumb-size biscuits. The ubiquitous fish balls with pork filling are actually Foochow fishballs. Foochow wanton are wrapped in air-dried paper-thin wrappings made of mallet mashed pork (Yenpi) and Foochow Nian Gao is not golden yellow but translucent white with lard fillings. Bet you didn’t know that. Even the world renowned “Buddha Jumped Over the Wall” is reportedly of Foochow origin, a commoner’s fare. Bet you didn’t know that either.