JYSim for jobless-yokel Sim

I have to say I’m no fan of Ang Pau-s, ok, with the exception that when they are distributed during Chinese New Year. For occassional Ang Pau-s given for a specific reason, upon acceptance you will have to force yourself to politely decline (even though sometimes you just felt like saving the energy and just pocket it). After several attempts you keep that money-filled packet, only to be pecked by your parents how much money it contains. Worse, during some specific occassions when several Ang Pau-s come all together at once, you will have no choice but to remember which Ang Pau is whose and how much it contains (for ‘repayment’ sake, according to Dad). Back home Mum will lament on how pampered children are nowadays and how Grandma gave her only $ 1 when she went to college (back then we still use $). Not only that, you’ll be forced to record how much money each individual gave and list them out on a sheet of paper to be laminated and attached to the study table notice board.
I’m not saying I dislike the money, but well, maybe I’ve not been through hard times, they sometimes become quite a nuiscance to me. With all the labour and paperwork to be done, I’d rather not have any at all. The other bad thing is that some face-centered relative will give exorbitant amounts equivalent to Mum’s 1 week salary, and I’ll be so flushed and paiseh because most of it was due to my Mum’s frequent phone calls to Grandma telling her she’ll have a doctor grandson soon. Well, for your information I’m the first grandson on Dad’s side to go to university on a scholarship (my cousin went before me, but he’s on his own expenses), and, not glorifying the medical career (there’s nothing glamorous about it either), I’ll be the first doctor in a few generations of businessmen, artists (my Dad), sawmillers and housewives, that is, if I don’t go insane during the 7 long hard years of my medical studies. Btw, I’m the one and only Chung Ling boy in my Dad’s side, that’s something to be proud of.
I know that giving Ang Pau is a Chinese way of blessing the future scholar as well as (in European standards) giving him / her a hug and saying ‘best wishes’. However, specifically on the money, I don’t think I deserve THAT much money because I’m not that good a person. I’m lazy, lazy, and lazy. The Ang Pau-s you gave me will practically lie on my table for weeks without being opened and checked (and God knows whether my maid will snip off a RM50 note). After reluctantly counting the money I’ll need another 3 weeks to get my bank book and march into Hong Leong to bank in the money. Once I even left my Ang Pau laying on the floor of the guest’s house.
Then come the Ang Pau packets. Some good-willed relative will write inspiring words on the back of the packet, which made it indisposable. Usually after sneaking out the money we just throw the packet away (except for HSBC or Citibank’s packets, which are worthy of 2 minutes’ admiration on the design and generous gold print). But try letting Mum see those packets with Dr. M’s quotes laying in the garbage she’ll give you another 5-hour lecture on appreciating your friends and family members. And some are very inspiring indeed you feel like keeping them for the next 7 years and exhibit them in your memoir when you’re 70. But can the flimsy red paper last for even 3 months?
Well, there’s a saying in Buddhism, it’s not exactly like this but it goes like ‘everything you gain without hard work and labour will eventually have to be repaid back to its rightful owner’. So, by accepting one week’s salary today, and if any of my relatives fall sick during his / her lifetime, I’ll have to be flown in from wherever I am and take care of him / her until he / she recovers (or, sadly, passes away), FREE OF CHARGE. Not that I’m not willing to share in future, but well, sometimes we just need to take time off, and let go all the responsibilities. And for reference’s sake Dad has 9 siblings in total and Mum has 6. My relatives are smarties in short, they pay in advance and they get free medical care upon my graduation till they’re 108.
Farewells, on the other hand, are both expensive and unhealthy. Plagued by past famine experiences (of our ancestors in ancient China), food penetrates deeper into our souls than giving a damn about what they’re doing to the Budget and the Khairy-MCA issue. Mention food in a famed restaurant and you’ll see families united, friendships re-forged and opposing political leaders shaking hands. In fact, a minute farewell yesterday nearly took my life. A close relative offered me his portion of chicken (which I suspect is allergic-prone), and I return home with a nasty rash. My body flushed and swelled up like a giant tomato and there’s this burning sensation in my neck. The emergency-department MO gave me a jab, and I slept for 10 hours yesterday. After that experience I swear never to be greedy and wallop up other people’s portion, even though it’s given willingly (this part seems unrelated to the title today).
Anyway, I’m not opposing to our Chinese 8-course banquets and farewells, they’re actually a really good opportunity to get to know people you’re acquainted, and a certain amount of housewives’ gossip among your aunts are entertaining enough to last a few weeks. However, in lieu with how precious time is today (a 8-course dinner will take up a whole evening, which I can spend writing a blog, reading ‘Les Miserables’ and watching a movie), we can reduce the courses to 5, and spare the sharks, oysters, and abalones. One thing we lack in Chinese banquets is dessert, which is usually a simple ‘liquefied peanut butter’ (according to a Caucasian) or light syrup with…where’re the condiments? (this is again a little unrelated, i apologise).
Again, to all those I know, I know your blessings by heart and there’s no such need to send me off (and make me cry) at the airport since I’ll be returning in July (if conditions allow). I apologise should you expect me to treat you and I haven’t, and remember - eating less is always better than more. Thank you for all the books and sweaters and paper slips and glass bottles and pens and gloves and money, I guess I won’t be spending them while I’m there, maybe just on air tickets during unexpected circumstances i.e. a relative passes away, somebody got injured etc. Hey, i’m not cursing anybody, but we’ll eventually fall from the stairs or get involved in a minor accident or *beep*. And 70 years later we’ll leave one after another and those with an inch of extra longevity will have to go through the trouble of attending endless funerals of ex-classmates and friends.
Long live friendship, and family members!

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