Monday, February 23, 2009

A Ballad of Pak Tam Chung

By Patrick Ng Pak-Kay

Hakka folk of Sheung Yiu
Hailed from Guandong’s Danshui, farther afield
In the days of yore
Wedlock united clans of different locales -
“Sense of place” came to the fore
In how the union was known by all.
Settling in Pak Tram Chung, the Hakka
Were amicable with the seafaring Tanka.
Radios were to the latter a boon
Only since the early sixties, in case of typhoons. (10)
Batteries were bought from Sai Kung bazaar
(Transmission really ranged that far)
As the then colonial government
Needed to make various announcements.
Pak Tam Chung was humid and hot.
And in summers past, grandma’s lot
At night was to fan children to sleep
After which her own slumber wasn’t deep
As smothered inside stuffy mosquito nets
With no plumbing or electricity just yet (20)
The weather was the be-all and end-all
Rustics were at nature’s beck and call.
Solace in religion was sought
And Roman Catholicism coexisted with folk faiths
As villages of different persuasions wrought
A rural chapel, also shrines of another spiritual way.
Sai Kung was the Catholic fathers’ earliest base
In Hong Kong, where, in Cantonese, they presented their case
So, Yin Tin Tsai island had its old chapel, bearing witness
To a history of worship and church largesse (30)
Flour and schooling for fisher folk-poor, but good Catholics nonetheless.
In village life, strife was rare -
Save bickering between mother and daughter-in-law;
And gambling troubles for me there.
Gossip filled the leisure hours-jaw-jaw
About weddings and funerals, the usual fare.
A corpse would be buried for years five or seven
After which the bones-“gold” in local jargon -
Would be exhumed and to an urn transferred:
An umbrella would be held over the grave when it occurred. (40)
“Pray, time to get up” would be intoned
Air and sun would dry the spread-out bones
Before consigning of “gold” to a new, portable home.
Dry-soil burial-plots were deemed premium,
To ensure an eventual clean-picked outcome.
Of course, “Feng Shui” plots were keenly sought -
Except by the Catholic clan of Sheung You, who had a Christian God.
“Ching Ming” in late Spring was not observed-
Though “Chung Yeung” was when dog and chicken meat were served
To filial progeny honouring their ancestors. (50)
Chickens roamed everywhere in the outdoor quarters,
Odour of avian feces was the order of the day,
Droppings for fertilizer would be scooped up and saved;
Ash at the stove would be mixed with human “produce”,
Pre-eminently eligible for a similar use.
Daily regimen entailed rising before the sun did,
Supper at five, and eight would mandate sleepy eyelids.
Babbling brooks in the vicinity,
Would be used to do laundry;
Men would take their baths there - (60)
But for reasons of modesty,
“Bath enclosures” womenfolk would require
Indoors, to where they would retire.
Soap bars were available at the bazaar,
Bathwater was heated at the stove in winter,
Firewood would be turned to cinders –
As collectables from the hillsides thither.
A single village school, “Pui Choi Primary”
Educated children in the vicinity;
But for education at secondary level, (70)
To Kowloon or downtown Sai Kung they had to travel.
Public health was overseen
By Springtime’s government vaccination teams;
Diseases were treated by folk experience -
The Chinese herbal deliverance.
Big-bus service commenced in the fifties,
Servicing the section from “Yau Lei Store”
To the pier in Kowloon City;
Public light bus was to follow, a decade later,
What is now “Wong Chun Chun Thai Restaurant” it did reach, (80)
To closer ties between Kowloon City and Sai Kung it did cater –
Goods were traded, such as animal feed,
Between the two townships, to meet a mutual need,
Many Hakka settled in Kowloon City,
Also Chiu Chow traders, prominent in rice commodity;
Commerce besides in poultry-farming and agricultural produce;
Also kerosene, and stoves for its use.
Cordial business relations between Chiu Chow and Hakka,
With Cantonese serving as their Lingua Franca –
Transport links had enabled the brisk barter. (90)
Further back in time, things were far grimmer –
Wartime tumult saw determined local guerillas
Struggle against Japanese occupiers
Who, once, Sheung Yiu village commandeered
For barracks, though control of Sai Kung wasn’t keenly sought –
With an implacable hostile populace, a war was better not fought
Over land of limited strategic import.
The will of the occupiers was lukewarm
In Sai Kung, where even the then colonial Governor
Had briefly hid, in the wake of the invasion storm - (100)
Sir Mark Young had the support of the “East River” Militia,
Whose spirit was, decades later, to be memorialized
In stone at a calmer, scenic Tai Mong Tsai.

In the memories of strife were thus,
The chronicling of traditional wedding is equally a must –
The extravagant rites, rituals and elaborate fuss.
As a gambit, the ministering, match-making matron’s liaising
Might consist in voluble, artful praising
Of the prospective bride’s attributes and qualities
To the face of the would-be groom’s parents, (110)
In line with the customary code of proprieties.
The other direction’s intercession errand
(If done to both houses’ approving satisfaction)
Would then complete the auspicious pact –
The young girl being now “spoken for” in folk fashion,
Thanks to the match-maker’s no lack of tact.
A “betrothal gift” the maiden’s home would then receive,
Courtesy of the groom-to-be’s household
Which, later on, on the big day would in turn receive
He bride’s dowry, arriving with the bridal sedan to unload. (120)
The actual nuptial proceedings took time to unfold –
Grandly three whole days and three eves, all told.
Day one was spent gladly expecting the bridal sedan
Amid fanfare of cymbals, gongs and cornets to dazzle and confound,
To arrive on the shoulders of hired porters.
The reception protocol and the protracted feasting would demand
Much ado with busy bustle throughout the quarters –
The slaughter of livestock and the cooking thereof,
With children running, playing, and score of roundtables to take care of,
Not to mention heaps of firewood and the fetching of water – (130)
Pots, pans, woks on roaring stoves, the hotter the better,
Fit for a village to feast through Hakka-style nine-coursers,
Amid the din and the cacophony of clacking tiles-
Games of mahjong and tin-gau: Whole-hog hollering being a must –
As de rigueur as the tender staid new dame’s maidenly weeping, upon embarking on her sedan trip (fate to trust),
Bidding irrevocable farewell to parents and assuming a new surname,
Tears of the bride belied the groom’s gang of lads,
Happy Hakka “hill ditties”, blared out at the reception –
Rustic lyrics of courtship as sweetly cloying as (140)
Those dumplings to be consumed by the groom to his satisfaction
As officiated by the “lucky aunt” appointed for the occasion –
A matron deemed usually blessed in health, wealth, sons and grandsons.
Day two’s evening would make the bridal chamber scene of nuptial consummation,
And day three would see the commencement of the bride’s new life –
Obeisance rituals, tea ceremony, and kitchen duty for the new wife.
Village elders welded authority considerable through informal,
Men of the intelligentsia enjoyed a respect most traditional.
Catholic priests exerted influence through the Sheung Yiu chapel,
Whose convenient access was provided only since the late forties (150)
By the “revival bridge”, obviating the need to ford this
“King’s creek” hazardously on foot, next to the present
“Fat Kee store”, whose namesake resident
Of the locale, Ol' Guy Ah Fat, a public-spirited draughtsman,
Drew up the bridge-plan and contacted the local government,
Requesting steel bars, cement and other resources,
And arranging for casual labourers to join forces
In the construction, paying them not in cash,
But in kind, namely, stacks of rice stashed
By the post-war colonial administration. (160)
The ‘king’ who was honoured by the creek’s name
Was the mountain deity, in pantheistic tradition,
Who still has a shrine beneath huge banyan trees,
Where offerings are still in evidence, though his claim
To souls is now answered by fewer, but the chapel, formerly of the Holy See,
Is now also converted to a canoeing facility
For the sporting benefit of caritas boy scouts,
As the diocese congregation has long since moved out,
Leaving a shadow of local spiritual clout.
Spirit-appeasing theatre shows were a tradition before the war, (170)
When at night on the fourteen day of the seventh moon,
Aggrieved ghosts were said to rise up from the earth’s core,
And to wander aimlessly, pitiful souls in sore
Need of consolation in the form of offerings of food,
Burnt, neither-world ‘money’, and theatrical spectacle,
In the mid-summer night breeze, an eerie mood
Prevailed, where red candles flickered,
And colourful banners fluttered,
And actors and ‘actresses’ (of the male gender)
Wailed to loud musical accompaniment (180)
Under a hot, noisy, crowded make-shift canopy,
Losing themselves in the magic of the moment,
These troupes of theatrical artistes used to ply
Their itinerary on boats, touring here and there,
And were particularly in demand that time of year.
The Wong clan itself, originally of Sheung Yiu village,
Had already moved to “Guo Lo Long” (“crossroads cottage”)
Back in the thirties, preferring to let
Out the original premises at “Sheung Yiu” because they couldn’t get
Fresh water for domestic use in winter there, (190)
When the hillside streams dried up seasonally,
(Even though ‘Wong Yi Chau” nearby had a well for their water cares,
Its capacity was too modest for feasibility.)
So on to “Guo Lo Long” they moved –
A hundred-year-old, large stone cottage,
Still lived-in to this day, now sometimes dubbed “Honeysuckle cottage”.
Situated at the concourse of (formerly) vital trails,
Before the ‘thirties it had never failed
To thrive as a crossroads multiplex mall
Containing various shops, for buying and selling to be done by all, (200)
Including also an inn for the traveling weary,
Making it the heart and soul of the vicinity.
But from the thirties on, half was re-requisitioned for the clan’s private dwelling use,
And from the sixties, this bustling ‘crossroads cottage’ fell into disuse,
As lime-, brick- and tile-manufacturing sunk into terminal death-drive –
The mainstay livelihood of the Wong clan.
But “Guo Lo Long” was to be miraculously revived
On just the cusp of the twenty-first century,
When a Wong clan descendant reclaimed the property,
Refurbishing the building back to hospitable utility. (210)



Patrick Ng


Sunrise over Pak Tam Chung

The bridge

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