By C C Pung
Justice of Peace
It’s Ramadan again.
In my younger days in Papar
when I had Muslim neighbours and school mates, Ramadan was a time to look forward to free Malay kuih.
It’s a must have for Muslim families as they prepare for Raya.
I don’t remember any Ramadan bazaar which is ubiquitous these days.
Over the years, I notice these bazaars have been getting bigger.
I guess it is because of a change in lifestyle as cooking at home became less popular, and commercialisation.
But one thing was constant for me, my food expedition at the Ramadan stalls.
But not any more.
My enthusiasm has declined because I no longer feel ‘close’ to the festive atmosphere and it’s run-up to Raya.
Growing up with Muslim neighbours, school friends and workmates, the Ramadan-raya spirit used to rub on me and I felt ‘on’, and making my rounds at the Ramadan bazaar was simply a happy feeling.
Nowadays, I’m told implicitly that I’m unclean, and that I may not be welcomed at Islamic gatherings and festivities.
It’s been said that my Muslim friends can’t greet me ‘Selamat Hari Krismas’ because Islam propaganda I can’t be extending any ‘Selamat’ wishes to non Muslims.
I now worry about saying the wrong things or uttering well wishes with the wrong vocabulary.
An old sage once advised ‘when unsure, avoid’.
I love satay and ketupat, especially the ones with skewers from coconut fronds; beef satay made with water buffalo meat from earlier in the day, chicken from a bird which may be running about a few hours ago, and ketupat diligently wrapped in coconut leave pockets of beras kampong.
Bazaars today offer varieties, but truly authentic cuisines are few and far between.
With bazaars in popular spots in great demand and charging hefty rental, culinary skills and authenticity are being compromised.
But there are no shortage of gems here and there.
Ramadan bazaars of the old days are my experience of growing up in multi racial Papar.
They were lovely.
Like any septuagenarian, I
love the days gone by and are nostalgic about it, dreaming of reliving it.
It’s hard when there are those who see as their business to remind a non Muslim like me that I’m ‘unclean’ and that the same air I breathe may be too contaminated for them.
Ramadan is indeed part of the good old days.
