Food is symbolic of love when words are inadequate.
– American speaker and author, Alan D. Wolfelt.
I’ve never prayed so hard for the sun to shine the whole day as I did last Wednesday.
I wanted the day to be as sunny as possible for one simple reason: I was drying leftover rice in the sun.
For weeks, my niece, Ah Hong, had asked me to make one of her favourite childhood snacks — bubble rice crackers, also known as ‘bee pang’ in Hokkien.
She shared with me a long list of her favourite childhood snacks that she would like to savour again when she returns to Kuching for a short holiday.
‘Bee pang’ was one of them.
To make the delicacy, leftover rice is first dried in the sun.
After that, it is deep-fried and mixed with syrup before being pressed onto a pan.
It is then left to cool before being cut into shapes.
Until last Wednesday, I was unable to dry the leftover rice simply because it had rained, especially in the afternoon on days when I was taking a break from work.
Last Wednesday, I decided to use a tray made from bemban (Donax canniformis shrub) instead of my usual iron tray.
I spread the rice grains thinly on the tray which I put on top of my car.
Since I was drying the car seats, which had just been cleaned by a professional washer the previous day, I thought it was a brilliant idea to kill two birds with one stone.
Later, as I saw clouds forming in the sky, I decided to drive my vehicle back to the car porch.
I feared that if it rained suddenly, my car seats would be wet again.
However, to my surprise, the sun continued to shine the whole afternoon, I was happy my prayer had been answered.
By then, I had moved my tray of rice to the cement pavement in front of my house.
Before going into the house for a glass of water, I turned the rice over and over again to ensure it was evenly and thinly spread on the tray.
I wanted it to be complete by the time the sun went down.
When I came out of the house a few minutes later, I was shocked to find a group of pigeons lingering near the tray.
There were rice grains also on the cement floor, signs some of the birds had eaten and stolen the rice.
When I clapped my hands, all the pigeons flew away.
But some came back after a while and continued to linger near the tray.
In the end, I had no choice but to sit in front of my gate with a long stick tied to the gate.
Whenever a more daring bird tried to go near the tray, I moved the stick up and down, hitting the ground hard in the hope of scaring it away.
As I did so, I laughed to myself.
In a longhouse, I had watched when I was young, how the villagers guarded the padi that they were drying on mats on the verandah.
I never thought that 40 or 50 years down the line; I would imitate what they did in front of a single-storey house in Kuching City.
I did not understand their purpose of guarding the padi on the verandah until that day.
I did not know that people had to guard whatever food they were drying in the sun.
If the padi and other food were unguarded, birds or even animals would steal them in the wink of an eye.
I also had a good laugh when I observed the antics of some of the pigeons.
They were like naughty kids and some were fearless.
They tried very hard to get close to my rice again and again. They were not scared of me but my stick.
In case some busy neighbours were watching me, I decided to appear busy by munching some ‘kuaci’ (sunflower seeds) as I sat on a stool in front of my gate and kept watch on the rice in the tray.
Bored, I wrote on the WhatsApp to some family members.
“Sayang rice crackers tak jadi nanti. All are eaten by pigeons (Scared there will be no rice crackers.)
“Wonder what the neighbours think of me as I sit outside here. The sun is very hot. I have to keep turning the rice. And the pigeons are back. They fly away when they see me and keep on making noises.”
A few minutes later, I sent another WhatsApp message.
”The two rascals are back again.”
My son disapproved of what I was doing.
He sent me a picture of a man shaking his head and rolling his eyes.
My niece, Bella, sent me a picture of a little girl laughing while my nephew, Ah Kiong, sent me a picture of a toothless woman laughing until she almost fell.
Ah Hong, for whom I was drying the rice, only responded with a “Waa…” I guessed she was too busy to reply properly.
Needless to say, I was happy that my rice was really dry at the end of the day.
I’ve bought some ‘gula apong’ (sugar from the sap of Atap Tree).
Now, I am looking forward to making my rice crackers.
The views expressed here are those of the columnist and do not necessarily represent the views of Sarawak Tribune.
